For whom should you produce, for the artist or for the market?

Not every singer is an artist. And in the world of music production, that difference changes everything.

Some see the artist as a means to reach a finished product. Others recognize the artist as the very purpose of the creative process.

It’s a stance that completely transforms the way you work in the studio, the kind of music that’s made, and the impact it has on the listener.

I talk about this in the article, explaining why putting the artist at the center isn’t idealism - it’s the only way to create music that lasts.

The hidden problem of modern music production

There are those who sing out of vocation and those who sing to entertain.

The difference lies in the urgency of expression, in the truth of what’s being communicated, in the substance of what remains after listening.

Those who entertain don’t truly live what they sing.

They’re performers, a means to reach another end.

And that end, today more than ever, revolves around mainstream sales, numbers, instant virality.

Music is produced with algorithms in mind.

Tracks built to be “TikTok-ified”: catchy choruses that hook you immediately, predictable structures, standardized sounds that follow the trend of the moment.

The result? Lots of entertainment music that lasts only a season.

Songs that slip away without leaving a trace — not even in those who listen.

It’s the market that sets the rules.

But when the artist becomes merely a vehicle to reach commercial goals, when their identity is bent to fit the needs of an algorithm, we’re losing something essential.

We’re losing the art of music.

What does “the artist is the ultimate goal” mean?

When I produce, I always keep one principle in mind: the artist is the ultimate goal, never the means.

This choice changes everything.

The artist becomes the creation itself.

That person — with their story, their sensitivity, their way of interpreting the world — becomes irreplaceable.

They go from being just a cog in the machine to becoming the protagonist of the entire project.

What truly matters in the creative process is bringing out and amplifying the artist’s vision.

Making them believe in what they carry inside.

Helping them release it and share it with the world.

Only then can real music be born — the kind that touches people deeply.

Because the artist must recognize themselves in that song.

They must live it in every note, every word, every sound choice.

When that happens, the music gains a truth you can feel instantly.

And this applies to everything — from the recording studio to the stage.

It’s the artist who will bring those songs to life on stage, who will have to convey the emotion, the truth, the urgency behind them.

Singing something that feels foreign to you makes the performance empty.

The audience senses it immediately — that lack of authentic connection, that missing spark that ignites emotion.

But when the artist truly lives those songs, when every piece of music is an expression of their identity, that’s when the magic happens.

The music comes alive. And when music is alive — it lasts.

That’s why my approach is different.

Produce for the artist, not for the market

When I produce, the market doesn’t call the shots.

I know it might sound like a provocation, but it’s a deliberate choice.

My focus is on what the artist truly feels and wants to share with the world —

not on potential streams, playlists, or what’s “working right now.”

What matters is the artist’s inner richness.

The producer’s role is to make sure that richness comes to the surface.

How? Through deep listening.

And I don’t mean just listening to demos or musical ideas —

I mean understanding who that person is, what drives them, and what their expressive urgency is.

It means creating a space where the artist can be themselves —

where they don’t have to pretend or fit into a formula,

where they can explore their own sonic identity without the weight of market expectations.

This approach takes time and patience — and above all, the courage to say no to compromises that would betray the artist’s vision.

But when you put the artist at the center, when every production choice stems from respect for their artistic identity, something powerful happens.

The artist recognizes themselves in their work, believes in what they’re doing — and that conviction reaches the listener.

Because in the end, the music that truly moves people isn’t the one built to please,

but the one born from a need to express.

Why labels should want artists, not products

Record labels that understand this difference make better investments.

An artist who believes in their project is a solid investment.

They’re not just a voice performing songs — they’re someone capable of sustaining a career, building a loyal audience, and growing over time.

When the artist has been placed at the center of the production process, when every track truly reflects their identity, real, measurable things start to happen.

First of all, live performance works.

The artist steps on stage and delivers truth, passion, credibility.

The audience feels it — and that’s how a real connection is built, one that turns listeners into true fans, not followers who disappear with the next trend.

Then there’s longevity.

A success built on authenticity creates a career, not a flash in the pan.

Artists who have something to say keep saying it — even after the first record. They evolve, grow, and stay relevant.

And that translates into numbers.

Not just first-week streams — but tickets sold, audiences that grow show after show, and catalogs that keep generating value over time.

The most forward-thinking labels know this: investing in a true artist means building an asset that grows.

Investing in a packaged product means chasing the algorithm of the moment, with results that last only a season.

That’s the difference: do you want a quick hit that fades, or a career that leaves a mark?

I’ll always choose the second path.

And the results speak for themselves.

A deliberate choice

Personally, I’ll always keep working this way — because it’s the only way to make music worth listening to.

Every time an artist walks into my studio, I’m fully aware of the responsibility I carry.

I’m shaping something that will bear their name, represent them in the world, and become part of their artistic story.

That’s why the artist is always the ultimate goal — never the means.

It’s a choice that demands more time, more energy, and more involvement.

It means saying no to projects that might be profitable but would betray this philosophy.

It means serving the artist’s vision, even when it would be easier to follow the trend of the moment.

But it’s also the choice that creates the kind of music I believe in —

music the artist can bring to the stage and move people with.

In a market that pushes toward sameness, I choose the opposite direction.

Because the music that truly changes things never comes from compromise.

It’s born when you give the artist the space to be themselves.

In short

The music industry will keep evolving.

Algorithms will become more sophisticated.

Platforms will change.

Trends will fade.

But one thing will remain constant: the difference between music that entertains and music that serves as a path to the divine.

Choosing to put the artist at the center is a vision for the future.

This is my approach.

This is what I believe in.

And this is what I offer to every artist I choose to work with.