By the Zonagirante.com team @spinning zone

1. Intro — The new digital coconut

There are weeks when Spotify seems determined to make another enemy, and this one was no exception. The recent advertising guidelines from ICE, whose content ignited social media, once again placed the platform at the center of public outrage. It was the perfect trigger for many to remember everything they dislike about Spotify: its aggressive business practices, its ubiquitous presence, and its inability to understand the social environment in which it operates. And so, once again, the green giant became the bogeyman of digital platforms.

But this annoyance doesn't arise from nowhere. A quick look at its recent history is enough to understand why every controversy ignites so quickly. Spotify hasn't just made communication blunders: it has also has invested capital in companies dedicated to the development of military and defense technologies. For many, this decision clashed head-on with the "cool," creative, and youthful image the platform tries to project. That a company that presents itself as an ally of artists would allocate resources to sectors related to weaponry and technological surveillance is, at the very least, contradictory.

Added to this are the now infamous "verbal indiscretions" of its CEO, Daniel Ek, who occasionally makes statements that irritate musicians and users alike. From minimizing the value of the creative process to suggesting that artists should work harder to gain more streams, Ek has managed to instill the idea that the platform sees music as a replaceable commodity within an industrial chain. Each comment reinforces the emotional distance between Spotify and those who sustain its catalog.

Given this history, it's no surprise that any new controversy—like the ICE ad—acts like a spark in a gas tank. The discussion shifts from that specific ad to everything people have felt, suspected, or detested about Spotify for some time. Social media erupts, outrage is recycled, and the platform once again becomes a symbol of a digital ecosystem that seems increasingly disconnected from its creative community.

This is how this article begins: not from momentary anger, but from an accumulated weariness that leads us to ask ourselves, once again:
At what point did the greatest cultural promise of the 21st century end up becoming the antagonist of its own history?

2. The big idea… and the big failure for musicians

When Spotify first appeared, its promise was almost utopian: all the world's music, accessible to everyone, for a very low cost or even for free. It was impossible not to fall in love with that idea. For millions of listeners in Latin America, it meant democratization, discovery, convenience, and the feeling that music was finally within everyone's reach, without geographical or economic barriers.

But behind that revolution, which did change our habits, lay a profoundly unequal economic structure. And in that structure, the weakest link always was—and still is—the musician.

The streaming payment model isn't designed to value the artistic process or cultural diversity, but rather to fuel a system that rewards only volume. Songs become numbers, and numbers determine how much each artist receives. It's a system that privileges industry giants, the catalogs that dominate official playlists, and the hits that rack up millions of streams. Meanwhile, independent artists are relegated to pennies that arrive with luck and delays.

And as if that weren't enough, the path for that money to reach the creator is riddled with intermediaries. Before, a musician could sell a CD directly and receive the full amount. Today, to get onto Spotify, they must go through aggregators that fulfill a rather bureaucratic role: they certify, distribute, and upload the music, but in return, they take a cut of the revenue or charge fees that, for many emerging projects, already represent a significant sacrifice. The independent artist ends up financing their own entry into a system that, ultimately, guarantees them almost no return.

It's a cruel equation: more work, more expenses, more public exposure... to receive less than ever.

Thus, the platform that promised to be music's greatest ally ended up consolidating a model where creators are the ones who benefit the least. The original idea was wonderful, but the economic reality is quite another matter. And although Spotify often defends itself by saying it distributes millions every day, that figure always pales in comparison when it comes to looking at how much actually reaches a single musician, a single band, or a single song.

It is in that gap—between the ideal vision and the imperfect reality—that the relationship between Spotify and the artistic community has deteriorated. And, as we will see later, it's not just Spotify: the entire system is structured so that independent musicians have to celebrate receiving mere crumbs for their own work.

3) How is the audience pie divided in Latin America?

Part of the dilemma we face when criticizing Spotify is acknowledging a harsh reality: its power in Latin America is immense, and it's not easy to simply abandon it without sacrificing reach. According to recent data, a significant portion of its monthly active users (MAU) come from Latin America. Furthermore, Spotify has demonstrated a consistent commitment to the region, something other platforms haven't always been able to match on the same scale.

A key point to consider is their prepaid subscription model: in many Latin American countries, this approach allows users without a standard credit card to access the Premium service. This strategy has been fundamental in enabling more people to pay for music, increasing the subscriber base, and justifying more aggressive local investments.

From the perspective of Zonagirante.com (or any curator aiming for a wide audience), this matters a great deal: moving all our playlists to "fairer" platforms in terms of pricing might sound good in theory, but in practice, it drastically reduces the potential audience. Not all alternative listeners use Tidal, Deezer, or Bandcamp extensively, especially in Latin America, where the streaming market is already highly concentrated.

Of course, Spotify doesn't have a complete monopoly in the region. There's competition: Apple Music, Amazon Music, YouTube Music, and others are present, and some are already starting to gain ground in certain niches. But the scale Spotify has achieved, combined with its access model adapted to Latin American realities, makes it a crucial platform for local music discovery.

In short: yes, Spotify is problematic for musicians, but it's also an indispensable force. Its regional presence, economic strategies, and reach make it difficult to completely replace for curators who want to maximize their impact.

4. The others aren't better people — they're just more subtle.

It would be convenient to think that the problem is exclusively Spotify. That if we migrated en masse to Apple Music, Amazon Music, or any other alternative, everything would be more ethical, more transparent, or fairer for musicians. But the reality is more uncomfortable: the other giants of the industry aren't exactly paragons of virtue either. They're just better at hiding their contradictions.

Take Apple, for example. For years it has cultivated an image as a champion of privacy, impeccable design, and “thinking differently.” But in practice, its relationship with successive governments has been far more flexible. In the United States, throughout the Trump administration, Apple maintained strategic corporate alliances and avoided any confrontation that could harm its business. Its interests in manufacturing, technology, and digital services outweighed any public stance on civil or labor rights.

And then there's Amazon, the silent giant that always seems to be everywhere without trying too hard to draw attention to itself. Its music service has the budget, the catalog, and the infrastructure, but the company itself is built on policies that have been widely criticized: aggressive anti-union practices, excessive labor pressures, and equally pragmatic relationships with the Trump administration when it suited them to expand operations or secure technology infrastructure contracts. Ethically speaking, Amazon Music isn't exactly the clean and responsible alternative one might want to replace Spotify.

So no, the others aren't "the good guys." They're corporations with similar priorities: growth, market dominance, cost optimization. What sets them apart is the level of visible scandal. Spotify seems to make public mistakes more often—and more clumsily—while Apple and Amazon prefer to operate with a cool elegance that better conceals their flaws.

Ultimately, changing platforms doesn't necessarily mean changing values. In many cases, it's simply changing corporate style. And that leads us to a deeper question:
Is there really a streaming space that is ethically and economically fair for musicians?
We will see it in the next point.

5. Is it time for a boycott? How do we really take on a giant like Spotify?

When a controversy like the one we've seen lately erupts, the immediate reaction is usually: “We have to abandon Spotify!”. It sounds forceful, morally clear, almost heroic. But the reality is more complicated. An effective boycott involves more than just outrage: it requires critical mass, coordination, and a viable alternative. And, let's be honest, in 2025 no other platform has the influence that Spotify has in Latin America.

We can hate their payment model, their indifference towards independent artists, their poor advertising decisions, or the company's questionable investments. All of that is valid. But we must also acknowledge that, due to sheer user concentration, visibility, and accessibility, it remains the space where their voices are most heard.
And facing a giant with that kind of muscle mass requires strategy, not just rage.

So what can we do? The first answer lies with the artists themselves: diversify. Release music on platforms that treat creators better, like Bandcamp, where there are no aggregators, where payment is direct, and where the relationship between artist and audience is driven by a community rather than an algorithm. This space has become a haven for independent projects seeking sustainability without sacrificing autonomy.

The second group consists of those of us who curate, write journalism, or provide musical accompaniment. At Zonagirante.com, for example, we've been exploring alternatives for our playlists for some time now. Believe us, we've tried. But today, if we were to migrate all our activity to another platform, the potential audience would plummet to negligible levels. It would be almost an internal exercise, with no real impact. And our work—our commitment—is to support independent musicians, but also the listeners who are still discovering them.

So yes: we're looking for alternatives. We're keeping an eye on any changing trends. We'd like to live in a fairer ecosystem. But in the meantime, we keep using Spotify because that's where our ears are. We do so with a critical awareness, with pent-up frustration, and with the hope that, if this debate continues to grow, perhaps in a few years we can say yes, streaming has evolved toward a more equitable model.

For now, what we need to do is keep pushing, keep highlighting the injustices and, above all, keep building community around those who need support the most: independent musicians.

6. Close ranks, debate, and build community

At this point, the conclusion isn't as simple as canceling a subscription or moving a couple of playlists. The debate about Spotify—and streaming in general—is deeper, more structural, and more uncomfortable. It can't be resolved with a single gesture or by clinging to the illusion of "good" and "bad" companies. All these platforms operate within the same system, a system that rewards scale, automation, mass consumption, and the concentration of power.

But that doesn't mean we should resign ourselves to the situation. What we can do is strengthen the alternatives that truly put the artist at the center: platforms like Bandcamp, which allow music to be released without intermediaries; community projects; direct subscription models between audience and creator; local networks that prioritize diversity over algorithms. These spaces exist and need support to grow.

At Zonagirante.com, we'll continue exploring ways to expand these options. We'll keep our playlists on Spotify because, right now, that's where you—our readers, our listeners—most easily find new music. But that doesn't stop us from continuing to advocate, denouncing abuses, defending independent musicians, and exploring platforms that can level the playing field in the future. It would be irresponsible to abandon a space with such massive reach without having a real alternative that allows us to continue giving visibility to those who need it most.

What we can do, right now, is open this debate with you. We want to hear your experiences, your doubts, your frustrations, your proposals. We want to know what you think about the streaming landscape, if you've tried migrating to other platforms, if you feel the current model can change, or if we're stuck in it.

We look forward to your honest feedback.
We want to be able to discuss topics like this. form community. A critical, informed community committed to independent music.
Let this article be just the beginning.

Spotify, you're so difficult to work with!