The Music Distribution System Wasn’t Built for Independent Artists

Written by Producer and Sound Engineer Norah

   When people talk about “making it” as an independent artist, they often frame music distribution as a simple, empowering step. Upload your song, get it on Spotify, and let the music speak for itself. In reality, the distribution system is far more complicated and far less artist-friendly than it appears. After years of releasing music and working with six different distribution companies, I’ve learned that these platforms are rarely built with small artists in mind.
  Throughout my production journey, I have been through many distributors, six to be exact. The distribution process usually works like this: you make a song or a project, upload the audio and cover art to a distribution service, and they send it to platforms like Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube Music. These services cost money, and depending on which company you choose, there are different pros and cons. However, what isn’t often talked about is how most of these companies quietly limit natural growth and earnings for independent artists.
  “The current distribution system markets itself as artist-first, but in practice it’s built for scale” said Inori records label manager Zach.
  For example, Spotify pays artists an average of about $0.003 per stream (estimated amount because they refuse to give us an actual number). That number alone feels insulting when you consider the countless hours artists spend writing, producing, mixing, and promoting their work. Even worse, artists aren’t paid directly by Spotify. The money goes to the distribution company first, and then to the artist. Some distributors take a percentage of those earnings, sometimes in ways that aren’t clearly explained to users.
  “The payment system is confusing, as there’s no direct way for you to know how much you earn per play, the majority of streaming services are also incredibly biased towards bigger artists with already established or bought platforms.” said vocalist Lieka.
  On top of that, there is a major delay in accessing the money you earn. Payouts are often held for two to three months after streams happen, meaning artists are constantly waiting on income they’ve already generated. For small artists trying to sustain themselves, this system makes it incredibly difficult to grow, reinvest in their music, or feel fairly compensated for their work.
  In my experience, I used DistroKid until my account was banned over a vague “copyright” claim. The system clearly isn’t built with small artists in mind. While I was using the platform, about $100 of my earnings were withheld. Every time I tried to cash out, I was told my bank information was “incorrect,” despite it being accurate. It wasn’t until I threatened legal action that the issue was suddenly resolved.
  After that, I moved to LANDR, which is by far the most restrictive distribution platform I’ve used. When I switched, I was required to reupload my entire catalog through LANDR, and they demanded proof of ownership for every single track. On top of that, I’ve collaborated with friends who have some level of name recognition, and LANDR required me to “prove” that these artists were actually involved in the songs. That process felt insulting, as if I were being accused of trying to exploit a bigger artist’s name for exposure.
  When they first asked for proof, I complied. Their verification process requires the collaborating artist to directly message LANDR’s official account, which I had my collaborator do. Despite this, LANDR claimed they never received the message, effectively denying the proof I had provided.
  Beyond that, LANDR places unnecessary restrictions on cover art, only allowing text if it’s limited to the song title or artist name. This feels creatively limiting and arbitrary. On top of all of this, their release approval process is extremely slow, and tracks are sometimes falsely flagged as containing samples when they do not.
Taken together, these experiences make it clear that modern distribution platforms prioritize risk management, automation, and corporate scalability over trust in artists. Their systems are designed to process massive volumes of content as efficiently as possible, not to support nuanced creative work or individual careers. For independent artists without legal teams, industry connections, or large followings, this often means being treated as a liability rather than a partner.
  Small artists are expected to navigate opaque rules, vague copyright enforcement, and slow support systems while fronting the labor, costs, and emotional investment that make the music possible in the first place. When something goes wrong, there is rarely a real person to advocate for you, only automated responses and policies that favor the platform’s protection over the artist’s reality.
  What’s especially frustrating is that these platforms often frame themselves as tools of empowerment. They promote the idea that anyone can upload music and reach the world, yet the underlying structure quietly reinforces the same power imbalances that have always existed in the music industry. Visibility, protection, and flexibility are extended to artists who already have leverage, while smaller creators are burdened with extra scrutiny, delays, and restrictions.
  For independent artists, “making it” has become less about creativity or connection and more about surviving systems that were never designed for us. Until distribution platforms meaningfully center transparency, trust, and artist agency, they will continue to function less as gateways for creative freedom and more as bottlenecks that limit who is allowed to grow.