At a time when we have hundreds of millions of tracks at our fingertips, you’d think discovery would be limitless. Endless digital libraries of almost all the music ever recorded exist for us to explore. But, rather than encouraging new discoveries, the hyper-convenient automation that major streaming platforms provide has created a discovery desert.

Algorithmic manipulation has trapped us in echo chambers that endlessly serve up more of what we already know. This illusion of choice keeps users on these platforms – for just over £10 a month, machine learning will decipher your taste based on your historic and other listener data, and present you with a platter of predictable recommendations. “What you’re exposed to gets more generic, and more aimed at a one-dimensional idea of who you are, ignoring your whole complex self and experiences,” says Joe Muggs, a veteran music journalist and DJ.

It’s a phenomenon many of us are already semi-aware of. Research from the UK government has found that 85 per cent of listeners are concerned that algorithmic bias could lead to music from certain genres being unfairly prioritised over others. The same goes for social media. Open TikTok, and you’ll hear the same endlessly looping 15-second clips. These same songs then crop up on Instagram. Virality drives engagement, which drives the algorithm. We’ve ended up in a place where ten of the 11 UK Official Chart Number Ones in 2024 had a major TikTok trend associated with them.

No matter how well they try and tune AI, it’s not going to be able to deliver those very by-chance moments

But more than variety, the biggest loss we experience when letting an algorithm take the wheel is the human connection behind the music. For Errol, a DJ, renowned music curator and founder of label-cum-gig series Touching Bass, this context is indispensable. “Chance, spontaneity, accidents. The human happenings that remind us why music is the most potent art form for holding memories,” he says. “No matter how well they try and tune AI, it’s not going to be able to deliver those very by-chance moments.”

DJ, writer and broadcaster Haseeb Iqbal agrees we should resist becoming blinkered by the convenience of technology, which tends to smooth out the very human imperfections that give music its soul. “One of the most beautiful things about music and the musicians who leave the most lasting impressions is the imperfection, the emotion – something that’s indescribable,” he says. “One of the issues with the algorithm and these new machines is that they’re trying to polish and perfect something that’s actually best when it's emotional and rough around the edges.”

It’s this embrace of the unexpected that machine learning can’t replicate. Even as a professional curator and broadcaster, Tina Edwards continues to experience these “happy accident” musical moments. She recalls stumbling across a single in a family-run record store in Southern Italy, a  version of “The House of The Rising Sun” – a track she says has “always grated on [her]”. The sleeve’s intriguing mix of “Latino culture, a motorbike and a 1920s flapper dress” sparked her curiosity. “I loved being surprised by something I thought I wouldn't have liked, judging by the track name alone,” she says.

In an overly individualised digital world, where everything is optimised for frictionless engagement, we also lose sight of the history behind the music. But curators like Errol, Iqbal, Edwards and Muggs are out there extensively researching scenes, genres and artists, cutting through the convenient listening of your latest ‘Made For You’ playlist and helping us remember what true discovery should be – connected to the source, rewarding and, actually, quite a lot of effort.

Go to a record shop, speak to the owner, and listen to music there. Get away from the screen and tap into something that makes you feel good

“We need to remember what has carried us here at this point in human evolution: listening to stories, taking in stories, understanding ritual and tradition, and passing them on in the long form,” says Iqbal. “A lot of the music and the records I discover teach me a lot about a certain period of history, how a certain community existed… whether it’s a form of resistance music or a sound that represents a shifting mood within a period.”

So, for those seeking fresh discoveries but feeling uninspired by their algorithmic echo chambers, what are the first practical steps to breaking free? Muggs says the answer is often close to home. “Ask your mates. Ask your cousins. What have you been listening to? What’s new? That’s always the motherlode.” It’s a straightforward and obvious solution, but one we often neglect when our musical identities exist on our phones. Errol agrees, sharing that the “inquisitive folks” in his life keep his ears open to fresh sounds. “One comment could be the butterfly-effect jump-off down a completely new wormhole,” he says. “Let’s hold onto that.”

It’s unrealistic to suggest we should do away with digital tools entirely. But there are ways to use technology more intentionally, making the discovery process more fruitful and rewarding. “Trawl Bandcamp using its discovery tool,” says Edwards. “You can search for music based on city, genre and how old the release is. It’s a genuinely rewarding way to understand what’s happening in a particular scene.” Muggs even suggests a method of manipulating streaming platforms. “Farm your own algorithms. If you make a lot of playlists, the more specific the better – you’ll have your mind blown by what the computer offers you.”

But the physical world is still where we form the strongest connections. “Go to a record shop, speak to the owner, and listen to music there,” says Iqbal. “Get away from the screen and tap into something that makes you feel good.” Errol suggests “getting down to a gig early and seeing the support act” and visiting venues pushing experimental boundaries. “Look at a gig listing for a venue like Cafe Oto, who are daredevils, constantly joy-riding with their culture.”

Ultimately, we can resist our sonic echo chambers by adding in a bit of meaningful friction to the discovery process – turning off autopilot and actively re-engaging with the culture. “My advice would be, if you’re interested in something, don’t try and get it very quickly,” says Iqbal. “Sometimes the longer the pilgrimage, the sweeter the arrival.”