How Social Media is Destroying the Artist's Mindset
In the not-so-distant past, musicians were known for bravery.
It was a thing to count on us for.
We were to be fearless, and uncompromising in our vision, and art was an extension of our soul. Not a product designed to be made palatable to the masses.
We didn't create solely to be liked; we created to express. Challenge.
And sometimes even to provoke discomfort.
Think of Bob Dylan's defiance of genre conventions, Miles Davis's constant reinvention of ‘jazz’, or the raw emotion of Nina Simone.
These artists weren't pandering for approval—they were pushing boundaries, regardless of whether the world was ready to catch up.
In case you hadn’t noticed, the landscape of artistry has drastically shifted since.
There are generations out there to whom these names may not even mean anything anymore.
And the pressure to be ‘liked’ has become an omnipresent force, subtly shaping the decisions of many musicians. And social media, where the currency of success is quantified in likes, shares, and followers, has completely transformed the creative process into a quasi-narcissistic endeavor.
This isn't just a casual observation; it's a reflection of a profound shift in the way artists perceive themselves and their work.
To understand this shift, it might help to have a look at the history of social media and the advent of the "like" button.
Introduced by Facebook in 2009, the like button was initially conceived as a way to simplify interactions on the platform. Instead of writing a comment, users could simply "like" a post to show their approval. What seemed like a harmless feature soon evolved into a powerful psychological tool. The human brain, which is wired to seek social approval as a survival mechanism, began to equate likes with validation, and this digital feedback loop ended up influencing mass behavior in ways that were previously unimaginable.
For musicians, the implications were enormous. Social media became not just a platform for promotion but a ‘barometer’ of success. As likes and shares became synonymous with popularity, they also started to dictate the kinds of content that artists created.
Songs were crafted to be "Instagrammable". Music videos tailored to go viral on TikTok. And while some countries like India even banned TikTok, both IG and YT followed suit by coming up with their versions of similar formats.
Before we knew it, this environment redirected the artist's mindset subtly but inexorably to shift drastically from creating art to creating ‘content’—a critical distinction that has profound implications for mental health.
The pressure to constantly generate content that garners likes can lead to a quasi-narcissistic mindset. This isn't to say that all musicians have become narcissists (a term that generally gets overused by underqualified people btw), but rather that the constant need for external validation can create an unhealthy focus on self-image.
The pursuit of likes is an endless chase, and the line between genuine self-expression and 'performance identity' blurs before we realize it.
Over time, this can’t help but lead to feelings of inadequacy, and eventually (if left unattended) possibly anxiety and depression, as the artist's self-worth becomes increasingly tied to online popularity while the relevance of actual art diminishes every day.
Note: Narcissism, a term that is often thrown around loosely, deserves careful consideration here. True narcissism is a clinical condition characterized by an inflated sense of self-importance and a deep need for admiration, often at the expense of empathy for others. However, in the context of social media, many artists develop what could be described as "narcissistic tendencies"—a preoccupation with how they are perceived by others, driven by the algorithms that reward such behavior. This isn't necessarily their fault; it's a byproduct of a system designed to prioritize engagement over well-being.
Beyond the dangers of a quasi-narcissistic mindset, the pressure to accumulate likes on social media can also lead to a pervasive "people-pleasing" syndrome among artists. This syndrome manifests when musicians, in their quest for validation, begin to prioritize the expectations and preferences of their audience over their own artistic instincts. Instead of creating music that reflects their true vision, they might tailor their work to align with popular trends or avoid controversial topics, all in an effort to maintain their online popularity.
The risks of falling into this people-pleasing trap are significant. When artists start to focus more on what they think their audience wants rather than what they genuinely want to express, their work can become diluted and lose its authenticity. This not only stifles creativity but also creates a vicious cycle where the artist’s self-worth becomes increasingly dependent on external validation. Over time, this can lead to a deeper sense of dissatisfaction and contribute to mental health struggles such as anxiety and depression.
In essence, people-pleasing erodes the very core of artistic integrity. Instead of pushing boundaries and challenging the status quo—hallmarks of truly impactful art—artists might find themselves producing safe, unremarkable work that lacks the depth and resonance that comes from genuine self-expression. This syndrome is an added symptom in the equation of how social media, with its constant demand for approval, can undermine an artist’s mindset and overall well-being.
Contrast this with the artists of the past, who were far less concerned with being liked and far more focused on their craft. The music industry was never without its pressures—record labels have long dictated trends and demanded hits—but there was still a sense of artistic integrity that held sway.
Peeps like David Bowie, Joni Mitchell, and Prince made music that was true to themselves, even if it meant alienating some listeners. They weren't chasing likes; they were chasing their own evolving visions, often at the cost of commercial success.
This is a good time to acknowledge that the music industry of the past was not without its own flaws and was far from anything perfect.
Artists were often at the mercy of record labels, who could dictate the direction of their careers in exchange for financial support.
The difference, however, was that the feedback loop was slower and less direct. An artist might face criticism or praise, but it wasn't delivered in the instant, dopamine-fueled way that social media provides today. And a lot of the feedback was from 'qualified' sources (journalists, A&R) and genuine fans who were passionate enough to invest money into artists they supported by actually buying their music.
Adding another layer of complexity to this already fraught environment is the rise of cancel culture. In an age where online communities can quickly mobilize to silence voices that do not conform to popular opinion, artists face an additional layer of pressure.
Fear of backlash can lead to self-censorship, stifling creativity and pushing artists to avoid controversy at all costs. The result is a landscape where music is increasingly homogenized, and the pursuit of likes and the fear of cancellation combine to create art that is safe, sanitized, and ultimately forgettable.
Cancel culture, in its most toxic form, discourages the very kind of fearless artistic pursuits that once defined the music industry. It creates an environment where artists are punished not just for their mistakes, but often for their willingness to take risks and explore controversial ideas. Or even question events they might be processing on their own terms.
This is not to say that accountability should be discarded—artists, like everyone else, will fare better by trying to be responsible for their words and actions. But art is inherently dependent on a certain degree of ‘between the lines’. Ambiguity. Demanding it to adhere to popular opinion or choose sides is an extraordinarily questionable practice that is normalized increasingly as political environments get increasingly volatile and socio-cultural concepts more complex.
The rush to cancel can sometimes lead to a chilling effect, where artists are too afraid to express anything that might be perceived as ‘controversial’.
So, how can modern musicians navigate this new landscape without falling into the dreaded narcissistic trap or being paralyzed by the fear of cancellation?
I think the key lies in intentionality.
Social media, for all its flaws, can be a powerful tool for connection and expression. It allows us to reach audiences that would have been unimaginable in the pre-digital era. However, it's crucial to use these platforms as a means to an end, not as an end in themselves.
Artists need to strive to maintain a balance between engaging with their audience and staying true to their artistic vision. This might mean setting boundaries on social media use, focusing on the quality of interactions rather than the quantity of likes, and most importantly, remembering why they started making music in the first place.
It's also essential to cultivate offline relationships and support networks, which can provide a more grounded sense of validation than the fleeting approval of social media.
We must also foster an environment that encourages brave, fearless artistic pursuits, even when the statements made by artists do not align perfectly with our personal beliefs.
True artistry has always thrived in the tension between different perspectives. Allowing space for artists to experiment, to fail, and to occasionally misstep, without rushing to silence them doesn’t necessarily equate to endorsing harmful behavior by default.
Needless to say of course, there’s a lot of nuance involved in that last sentence.
Social media has revolutionized the music industry, offering unprecedented opportunities for connection and exposure.
However, the pervasive culture of likes and the looming threat of cancel culture have also introduced new pressures that can distort an artist's mindset.
The relentless pursuit of online validation can lead to a quasi-narcissistic focus on self-image, while the fear of backlash can stifle creativity and encourage self-censorship.
To navigate holistically between these two poles, musicians must remain intentional in their message, prioritizing authenticity over approval and embracing the fearless artistic spirit that has always driven true creativity.
Doing so might be our best chance at reclaiming artistry from the grip of external validation and foster an environment where bold, uncompromising expression thrives once again.
Categories: : mental health, music business, music education, self care
Indian-German Producer/Singer-Songwriter T.L. Mazumdar grew up on 3 continents and 4 countries.
Mentored by a series of iconic musicians like Kenny Werner, Kai Eckhardt, Dr John Matthias, and the late Gary Barone, his artistic journey has aptly been described by Rolling Stone magazine as one that ‘...personifies multiculturalism’.
Time Out Mumbai has referred to him as ‘’...amongst a handful of Indian (origin) musicians who don't have to play sitars or tablas''
He has been nominated for German Music awards Bremer Jazzpreis and Future Sounds Jazz Award, and been called ''...a major talent'' by Jack Douglas (Producer: John Lennon, Miles Davis, etc.). .
T.L. Mazumdar
Musician/Educator. Founder, HMA
Mmus (London College of Music)
BA (Pop Akademie, Mannheim)
Certified Coach & PT