Creating from the Heart in an Age of AI

For those who know me, I am a person of reflection and thought. These past several months have been about escaping the noise and seeking more meaning in the choices we make and the lives we lead. In that quiet space, my thoughts have turned toward technology — a field that is endlessly fascinating, but also controversial, sometimes even challenging what it means to be human. Observing how AI is beginning to shape life has inspired me to share my reflections on its impact..

Of what cannot be emulated.

Recently, I collaborated with another artist on a track that he wanted me to vocally lead. He showed me a demo of an AI-generated idea built from the lyrics he had written. The AI had taken the words and created melodies, beats, and phrasing almost instantly. But as we worked to transcribe the idea and figure out how everything would sound in real life, we noticed the limits. From there, we layered my vocals and added our own creative ideas, building something entirely human together. If you bear with me, I’ll expand on this later to show exactly what I mean.

Many people still don’t know how to feel about AI. Some dive in, replacing tasks, decisions, creative processes, or even conversations with it. Others, like me, use AI as a tool to enhance what they already know — to learn, grow, and build upon skills developed over years. When I’m stuck and no one around me has the answer, I turn to AI for help. Not as a replacement for my creativity, but as a way to push myself further, to explore ideas that might otherwise remain out of reach. It’s like having a brainstorming partner who never sleeps — but one that can’t feel, can’t empathize, and can’t understand nuance.

Working on this AI song idea revealed just how limited technology still is. My collaborator faced the challenge of transcribing melodies and beats, while my challenge was recording the vocals into my DAW. I discovered that AI could neither replicate the emotion we were trying to convey nor anticipate the subtle pauses where a singer naturally takes a breath. Timing, phrasing, dynamic inflection — the little things that give a song soul — were completely missing. These human details cannot be automated. I’m confident that our final version will be far more meaningful than the AI demo because it carries our intention, our energy, and our humanity. Not to mention the authenticity of our songwriting.

In the music industry, reactions to AI vary. Many artists fear what it could mean for their careers and creative identity. AI-generated music, AI vocals, and AI mastering can create or polish a track in minutes, and for some, that feels threatening. It challenges everything we’ve traditionally believed music should be. Yet, despite the changes, it has never discouraged me from releasing my work. If anything, AI has strengthened my determination to demonstrate the value of human creativity.

Right now, the music industry needs human-created songs more than ever — almost as a rebellion against artificially generated art. Human music carries something AI cannot replicate: lived experience, emotion, personality, imperfection, perspective. A song created by a person tells a story, even in the smallest details — a pause before a line, a slight hesitation, the warmth of a voice that carries a memory. And yet, frustratingly, people sometimes dismiss our work, assuming it was machine-made despite the hours of heart and soul we pour into it. Suddenly, the burden falls on us to prove the authenticity of our creations.

I’ve seen this happen countless times. Someone will hear a track and immediately assume it’s AI, even when it’s been painstakingly crafted. That assumption can feel dismissive, rude, and discouraging. It undermines the countless hours spent perfecting every beat, lyric, and vocal inflection. It’s an additional challenge on top of the creative process itself. But it also highlights why human artistry is vital — why every detail matters, why intention and heart cannot be replicated by code.

This is why we need to take a stand and set the record straight. It’s not about rejecting technology — it’s about protecting the value of human artistry. We must create transparency, systems, and habits that help others understand where our work comes from and why it matters. It’s about educating audiences, documenting our process, and showing that the human touch is something to be celebrated, not overlooked. Our voices deserve to be heard, not drowned out by assumptions about machines.

It’s hard work. It’s tiring. And sometimes it feels unfair. But I’m not afraid. I have nothing to hide and nothing to lose. Everything I make comes from who I am, not from AI, and I will continue to stand by that with confidence. My creations carry my story, my struggles, and my truth. In a world where the line between human and artificial is increasingly blurred, authenticity becomes even more vital. The act of creating — and owning that creation — is a statement in itself.

In the end, AI may continue to evolve, but so will we. Technology can assist, imitate, and accelerate, but it cannot replace the lived experience that shapes human creativity. What we create carries our memories, choices, scars, and resilience — things no machine can replicate. As the world changes, I choose to stand firm in what I create. I will keep making music the only way I know how: with intention, honesty, and a human heart behind every sound. If that means pushing back, educating others, or proving myself more than before, so be it. I’m here for the long run, and I’m proud of what I bring to the table. I’d rather be writing music mostly from my own heart than from something that doesn’t have one.

Because at the end of the day, music isn’t just sound. It’s humanity,