It had been too many years since I'd seen this movie. But the other night, I saw it with a friend and remembered why I love it so much. Here is your friendship with your BFF as described by White Chicks.
Moral of the story, if you can relate, you've got an awesome BFF.
Other moral of the story: go watch you some White Chicks.
AI-generated music is often marketed as “artistic” or “educational.” But what does it really teach?
For young creators, this sets a dangerous precedent. Why learn to play guitar when an algorithm can do it faster? Why study harmony when AI can generate chord progressions in seconds? The risk isn’t just laziness — it’s the loss of depth, discipline, and the tactile joy of creation.
I have listened to several AI-generated music covers. My initial reaction was one of considerable impressiveness, particularly regarding the reimagining of classic pop hits in diverse genres with novel arrangements. Here is one good example a-ha — Take On Me
However, after engaging with several such Ai generated song covers, a sense of emotional detachment emerged, attributable to the perceived absence of human artistry and genuine sentiment, resulting in a technically flawless yet ultimately soulless auditory experience.
What does the copyright law say about AI generated music, especially in field of music covers. Who is liable for copyright in this case, AI developers, people who used AI to generate music or people who published it on music platforms?
Recent lawsuits show that the music industry is pushing back hard:
But who’s liable?
Role | Legal Risk | Why |
AI Developers | ✅ High | For training on copyrighted material without licenses. |
Users | ⚠️ Moderate | If they intentionally recreate protected works. |
Publishers/Platforms | ✅ High | For distributing infringing content. |
The grey area lies in training data. Courts haven’t yet ruled definitively on whether using copyrighted songs to train AI counts as infringement or fair use. Meanwhile, AI-generated works themselves aren’t eligible for copyright unless a human provides substantial creative input — leaving them in legal limbo.
Some argue that AI music helps people learn genres, production styles, or vocal techniques. But this “education” often lacks context. It’s like learning to paint by watching a printer — technically impressive, but creatively hollow.
True musical education involves:
AI shortcuts bypass all of this. And in doing so, they risk flattening the rich terrain of human creativity into a sterile landscape of algorithmic mimicry.
This isn’t just about music. It’s about the future of art, storytelling, and human expression. If we allow machines to dominate creative spaces, we risk turning culture into content — optimized, monetized, and devoid of soul.
We must ask: Do we want a world where art is made by machines, or one where machines help humans make better art?
