The murky morals of posthumous albums
Art by Kayman Mangan
As AI keeps getting smarter, the music industry has found new ways to cash in deceased artists, raising an ethical question about whether posthumous albums honor a musician's legacy or serve as a money grab. Posthumous albums are albums that are released after the artist's death and while they can serve as heartfelt tributes, too often these albums feel more like an attempt to profit off of someone's name rather than truly trying to preserve their artistry. Now, with AI capable of mimicking voices and finishing unfinished tracks, the line between tribute and exploitation is blurrier than ever.
Mac Miller’s Circles shines a light on how posthumous albums can be done in a respectful manner. Miller had nearly finished his album when he passed and his family worked closely with his producer, Jon Brion, to ensure it stayed true to his vision. David Bowie’s Blackstar, on the other hand, is arguably how albums near death should always be dealt with. Bowie knew he was dying and he made sure his final project was done exactly how he wanted it, releasing it just before his death in 2016. This is a beautiful rendition of dealing with death and music, Bowie was able to give a final piece and farewell to his fans, leaving the music world with in a typical Bowie fashion. With abrupt passings, it is hard to differentiate between preservation and profit; these albums weren't just thrown together after their deaths, they were part of the artist's creative process when they were still alive and were intended to be released.
Pop Smoke’s first Posthumous album, Shoot for the Stars, Aim for the Moon divided perspectives on if it it honored his legacy, or used listeners' pain for (financial) gain– piecing together an overproduced album packed with needless guest features that didn't match his original style. Then came Faith, which felt even more like a label-driven cash grab, with songs that barely even sounded like him. This is the slippery slope of posthumous albums, when labels start prioritizing profits over authenticity, the artist's original voices get lost in the process. Similarly, Micheal Jackson’s Micheal (2010) included songs that Jackson had not approved for release, and some tracks were rumored to feature vocals that weren't his, leading to accusations that his estate was prioritizing profit over maintaining Jacksons integrity.
With AI in the mix, things get even murkier, AI can copy an artist's voice and piece together their unfinished work, but that doesn't mean it should be able to do so. There is a huge difference between an album that an artist shaped before their passing and one that has been pieced together from scraps just to sell records. If an artist didn't explicitly approve a project before they died, it should not be considered theirs. When AI starts manufacturing music under an artist's name, it stops being about honoring them and becomes about squeezing every last dollar from their legacy.
At the end of the day, posthumous albums should only be released if the artist had a real hand in the completion and intended for it to be released. AI-generated tracks may sound like them, but they lack the soul, emotion and creativity that we all listen to music for in the first place. If the industry keeps pushing AI-generated albums, it risks turning artists into brands rather than real people, leaving us with nothing more than hollow imitations of the artists we once knew and loved.
