"Who are the Beatles? They're not on Spotify." In another ten years the kids listening to music pouring out of their computers, mobiles and iPod touches will shrug in bafflement at the mention of the world's most famous pop group, if it remains aloof from the latest advances in the digital music revolution. Spotify is a neat little computer jukebox that may soon make both iTunes and CD collections defunct. More to the point, it's in the vanguard of a music distribution model that may resolve the battle between copyright-protective music companies and next generation Napster pirates.
For the past few weeks, private invitations to join Spotify's test phase have circulated through Britain's music and media networks. As word spread, people began begging for them, friendships were forged in gratitude. And since February everyone has been able to enjoy a site so deliciously functional it has a real shot at changing the way we listen to music.
For those yet to try Spotify (from "spot" and "identify") this is the idea. You download an application to your computer, open up the grey and white screen, type in the name of a song or a band and—voila!—you can immediately hear Alexandra Burke's "Hallelujah," or Jeff Buckley's, or Leonard Cohen's or kd lang's. There's also classical, jazz, folk; all with no downloading, no payment, no waiting. Obscure hits by Prefab Sprout or Suede b-sides arrive instantly to bring back the soundtrack to your first kiss or break-up.
The service's Swedish founders Daniel Ek and Martin Lorentzon conceived of it in 2002, but various legal battles between record companies and free download websites stopped them launching it until 2006. By October 2008, they had signed deals with the four major record labels, EMI, Warner, Universal and Sony BMG, as well as smaller independents, and started rolling out across Europe.
Spotify isn't the only free legal music streaming service, but it seems to have the best technology and, above all, has negotiated a deal that allows such a light commercial touch that you barely notice the music companies (paid a small royalty every time a track is listened to), or the brief advertisements (every 20 minutes) that provide a basic revenue stream.
More interesting is the potential this new model represents. Put simply, it could do for music what Google is doing for books. Google spent years scanning everything in sight and let the copyright arguments follow—after it had shown its power to create an unrivalled library. Something similar is now possible with music. Indeed, this model responds to how people increasingly want to listen to music: for free and without owning it in physical or even digital form at 79p a shot from iTunes. With Spotify, advertising takes the financial strain. And companies like EMI seem to have accepted that this is the future—compared with the pirate file-sharing networks it is at least a decent compromise.
The new online music jukeboxes also make possible enlightening journeys through the history of music. The modern music industry has always operated as fashion—promoting each new genre as sprung fully formed from nowhere. While you can trace the horizontal movements of Britpop or punk through collected albums, it's not been so easy to trace vertical historical lines through music without reverting to unlicensed music on YouTube.
Now, search for "Eleanor Rigby" on Spotify and you can go grazing through all the versions of apparently the most covered song in history (though you won't find the original). Or there's "Black Girl," the 19th-century folk song that entered recording history with Leadbelly (pictured, right) and has been reworked by everyone from Dolly Parton and Marianne Faithful to Nirvana. (Pete Seeger's version includes a fascinating history of the song.) We are reminded that music isn't just the latest fad. It's also about community and tradition.
Spotify itself may not survive. As is often the case with internet start-ups, the business model looks built on hope rather than solid economics. But it has blazed a trail in providing a lightly commercial and totally legal library of music, free at the point of use. Variations on this model will surely thrive; BSkyB has already announced plans to offer an unlimited music service (albeit for a subscription fee).
Now that it is easier to type the track you want on your laptop, rather than get up and find the CD you already own, bands that resist this technology risk being wiped from collective musical memory. The Beatles still haven't signed up to iTunes, because they can't agree terms with their label EMI, and so Spotify looks a distant prospect. But most big music labels have finally accepted that internet music is a revolution they can't afford not to take part in. If Spotify works, soon the only things people will be trading on pirate servers are Beatles tracks.