the TrueFans AMP— Issue 126

the TrueFans AMP™ 126 closes one year and opens another. Some pieces look forward. Some look back. Read it straight through if you can— but if time is tight, start with The Year Ahead, linger with Roberta Flack, and return to the rest when you’re willing and able.

Here’s the playlist

In This Issue... 20 pages (about 29ish minutes to read) You'll Get... 

• Your BIZ— Jay Gilbert’s 2026 Music Predictions from Hyperbot

• More Your BIZ— The Year Ahead in Music the TrueFans AMP™ Edition

• the Greatest Music Artists of All Time— Roberta Flack the Quiet Power of a Voice That Changed Everything 

in partnership with Jay Gilbert and Your Morning Coffee

• Remember to Remember— The Music Artists We Lost This Year and What They Left Us

• PS from PS— On Just Getting Started (After 40 Years)

“Here’s one industry expert's take— followed by 
what we think matters most to you.”

• Your BIZ— Jay Gilbert’s 2026 Music Predictions
from Hypebot’s Future Predictions series

Jay Gilbert is a digital marketing innovator. He’s pioneered the industry’s first digital-only label, and he’s run award-winning campaigns for Nirvana, Bob Marley, KISS, and more. He’s the founder of the newsletter and podcast, Your Morning Coffee, which has over 25,000 subscribers. He’s also a consultant and the co-host of two other top industry podcasts, and a frequent contributor to Hypebot.

Hyperbot asked Jay if he had any predictions for the music industry in 2026. Here’s what he had to say:

1. Performers Will (Finally) Get Paid When Their Songs Are Played on the Radio in the US
Did you know that when your performance is played on the radio in the US, you get zero compensation? 

Let’s look at I Will Always Love You, written by Dolly Parton. Whitney’s version blew up… She (Whitney) got paid nothing for those spins in the US (only the Songwriter).

The American Music Fairness Act [AMFA] requires terrestrial radio stations to pay performers when they play their songs on the radio. It’s a $14 B business on the backs of performers and Songwriters. Digital platforms already pay and the US one of few countries not compensating performers for radio airplay (others include China, Russia and North Korea). Everyone knows this is bullshit. No, it won’t put any radio stations out of business. Annual fees equate to an accounting rounding error.

Do the right thing, US radio. We’re all watching. It’s time. [Big Time. Past Time.]

2. Suno: Introducing the GAW (Generative Audio Workstation)
We’re hearing increasingly more songs (words and music) that were created by (or assisted by) generative AI. Xania Monet, became the first AI-powered artist to debut on an airplay chart this year, and is one of several AI-driven acts to chart over the past three months, according to Billboard; that growing list includes Breaking Rust, Cain Walker, Childpets Galore. Unbound Music, Enlly Blue, and Juno Skye.

While it’s true that there are plenty of generative AI platforms that will create a song from your text prompt, one platform is blazing a new trail, Suno. Top Nashville Songwriters are using Suno every day, not to write songs, but to arrange, record and demo them. 

Nashville Songwriters take demos very seriously, often recording them in the style of an artist they hope will cut the track. Nothing is left to chance. With Suno, they can upload their guitar or piano tracks and build from there, auditioning various instrumentation, styles, strings and horns. In 2026 I see Suno becoming a go-to GAW (Generative Audio Workstation) with capabilities we can’t even imagine today.

3. Limits on Ticket Scalping Profits ARE Coming
The ticketing world has taken a lot of heat for high prices, system failures, hidden or “junk” fees and an overall lack of transparency. But there’s plenty of blame to go around. One problem that is finally getting its day in the sun is ticket scalping— re-selling tickets for big profits that the artists and teams putting on the shows don’t participate in. Another is what’s called “speculative tickets.” This is when a broker sells you a ticket for an event that they don’t actually possess. (What could possibly go wrong?)

It’s not fair fight when a fan is competing with professional ticket brokers assisted by software to buy up the best seats in the house then turn around and flip them for huge profits. The BOTS act (Better Online Ticket Sales) is a step in the right direction but it needs to be enforced. IMHO, there should be a maximum 15% cap above face value for ticket resellers.

Sorry SeatGeek, StubHub etc. Nothing personal.

__________  

About Jay Gilbert 

Check the gold in partnership with... box below to learn more about Jay and how you can connect with his newsletter and podcast, Your Morning Coffee. 

• More Your BIZ— the Year Ahead in Music theTrueFans AMP™ Edition
Predictions, Pressure Points, and What Will Actually Matter

Predictions are funny things.
Most of them age poorly.
Some of them age too well.
A few don’t predict the future so much as name what’s already happening.

That’s what makes Jay Gilbert’s 2026 Predictions worth paying attention to. He isn’t guessing wildly. He’s watching stress points— places where the system is already straining— and asking what happens next.

Jay focuses on three big ones:
• performer pay for radio airplay
• AI as a creative tool
• ticketing reform

He’s likely right on on all three. But a deeper question for working Music Artists isn’t whether these things change. It's... 

What changes actually matter to me
— and which ones don’t.

So think of this not as a crystal ball, but as a navigation chart.

What Jay Is Probably Right About (The Hard Stuff)

1. Performers Getting Paid for U.S. Radio Airplay Will Finally Happen
Jay’s right: the current system is indefensible.

When U.S. terrestrial radio plays a recording, the Songwriter gets paid— but the performer doesn’t. It’s an outlier globally, and it’s long past due for correction. The American Music Fairness Act is the clearest signal yet that the dam will eventually crack.

the AMP take:
This matters symbolically more than financially for most independent artists.

Yes, some money will flow.
No, it won’t change your business model.

What it does do is reinforce a larger shift: performers are no longer expected to accept “exposure” as compensation. That thinking— slow as it is— keeps moving in the right direction.

Treat radio royalties as found money, not a plan.

2. AI Becomes a Tool, Not a Replacement (Despite the Noise)
Jay’s observation about Suno evolving into a kind of generative audio workstation is astute. AI isn’t just about spitting out songs from prompts anymore. It’s becoming a sketchpad, a demo room, an arranging assistant.

And yes— plenty of working songwriters are already using it.

the AMP take:
AI will reward taste, not talent.

Artists who know what they’re listening for will use AI to move faster, test ideas, and hear possibilities. Artists who hand judgment over to the machine will sound like everyone else doing the same thing.

The danger isn’t AI making music.
The danger is artists forgetting they’re the ones who decide what’s good.

AI doesn’t replace artists.
It exposes whether they have a valuable point of view.

3. Ticket Scalping Will Be Reined In— Slowly
Jay is right again: the ticketing system is under pressure. Bots, speculative tickets, junk fees, and eye-watering markups have pushed fans past tolerance.

Caps on resale markups.
Better enforcement of existing laws.
More transparency.

All likely. All incremental.

the AMP's take:
This helps major artists first. Independents benefit indirectly. But here’s the quiet upside: fans are becoming value-sensitive, not just price-sensitive. They’re asking, “What am I actually getting for this?”

That question favors artists who offer connection— not just access.

What Jay Doesn’t Spend Much Time On (But You Should)
This is where the TrueFans lens matters. Because most artists won’t be meaningfully affected by radio royalties, AI demos, or ticketing legislation.

They will be affected by the following.

4: Streaming Stops Being “The Business”
Streaming isn’t going away. But its role is changing.

For years, artists were encouraged— explicitly and/or implicitly— to treat streaming numbers as success itself. That illusion is fading.

The AMP prediction:
Streaming becomes background infrastructure, not the goal. It’s for:

• discovery
• validation
• light engagement
• Not where careers are built.

The real asset isn’t streams.
It’s knowing who listened.

Artists who own direct relationships— emails, conversations, communities, connection— will outlast artists chasing algorithmic favor. The question shifts from “How many streams did I get?” to “Who showed up for me— and why?”

That’s a much better question.

5: Live Music Splits Into Two Worlds
Live music doesn’t shrink. It bifurcates.

On one end:
• bigger shows
• higher prices
• more spectacle
• fewer tours

On the other:
• house concerts
• listening rooms
• small theaters
• hosted experiences

The AMP prediction:
The middle thins out. The edges grow.

Fans don’t just want louder.
They want closer.

Artists who can:
• tell stories
• host rooms
• speak between songs
• make fans feel seen

…will thrive in spaces that don’t require scale to be meaningful.

Performance becomes presence.

6: The Most Valuable Skill Won’t Be Musical
This one is uncomfortable.
And true.

In 2026, the most valuable skill for a working Music Artist won’t be playing faster, singing higher, or producing slicker tracks.

It will be communication.

The AMP prediction:
Artists who can write, speak, reflect, and converse will build durable careers.

Not marketing copy.
Not hype.
Real communication.

Algorithms change.
Platforms shift.
Formats die.

Relationships compound.

Artists who treat fans like people— not traffic— will still be standing when the next “revolution” comes and goes.

So… What Do We and You Do With All This?
Predictions are only useful if they help you make better decisions now.

Here’s the through-line:

The future of music isn’t being decided by platforms, policies, or tools alone.
It’s being decided by how Music Artists choose to relate— to their work, their fans, and themselves.

In 2026:
• care scales
• excellence still matters
• connection beats reach
• ownership beats exposure

Same rules.
Any stage.

And if that sounds less like a prediction and more like a reminder… good.
Some truths don’t change.

__________  

About John Fogg
John is the founding editor of the TrueFans AMP™, co-creator of New Music Lives™, and a lifelong writer, listener, and fan of great songs and the people who make them. A million-selling author (The Greatest Networker in the World), Fogg has written and coached artists, entrepreneurs, and visionaries for more than four decades. Through the TrueFans AMP™, he champions a new generation of Music Artists building sustainable careers— Making Right Now Money and having Fans Forever.

____________________

We talk a lot about systems, platforms, and futures. But the future of music is still decided by individual voices— and how they choose to use them.

• the Greatest Music Artists of All Time— Roberta Flack the Quiet Power of a Voice That Changed Everything 

“What made Roberta Flack extraordinary was her courage to be quiet. In that quiet, she found a depth that most singers never even approach.”
— Carole King

In the long arc of popular music, only a small number of artists fundamentally change how songs are allowed to behave. Roberta Flack belongs unmistakably in that company. She expanded the emotional bandwidth of radio, slowed the pace of commercial music without sacrificing mass appeal, and demonstrated that restraint could be as powerful as virtuosity. She didn’t simply make beautiful records— she redefined intimacy as a legitimate form of greatness. 

For Singer Songwriters, her work is not just to be admired, but studied.

From Prodigy to Poat of Restraint
Born in Black Mountain, North Carolina, Flack entered Howard University at just 15 on a full classical music scholarship. Trained rigorously as a pianist, she absorbed Bach, Chopin, and Beethoven alongside gospel and spirituals. That dual fluency— precision and feeling— became the foundation of everything that followed.

Before the world knew her name, she was teaching school by day and performing at night in Washington, D.C. clubs, most notably Mr. Henry’s. There, she built a repertoire of hundreds of songs and developed a style defined not by showmanship, but by trust:

Trust in the material.
Trust in silence.
Trust in the listener.
Trust that would become her calling card.

The Song as a Sacred Space
Her breakthrough arrived when Clint Eastwood used her recording of The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face in the movie Play Misty for Me. Delivered at an almost impossibly slow tempo, the performance refuses urgency. It doesn’t plead. It assumes attention.

The result was a No. 1 hit and a Grammy for Record of the Year— and, more importantly, a recalibration of what pop radio could contain. 

Flack followed with Killing Me Softly With His Song and Feel Like Makin’ Love, becoming the first artist to win back-to-back Grammys for Record of the Year.

She didn’t chase trends.
She deepened meaning.

“Roberta Flack could do more with one held note than most singers could do with a run.” 
— Alicia Keys

A Musician’s Musician
Roberta Flack was never “just” a singer. She was a pianist who often accompanied herself, shaping harmony and phrasing in real time. Her classical training gave her architectural control; her soul roots gave her warmth. Every note felt chosen. Every pause felt intentional.

Folklorist and critic Julius Lester captured her gift precisely:

“She could take a quiet, slow song and infuse it with a brooding intensity that is, at times, almost unbearable.”

For Singer Songwriters, the lesson is profound: power lives in decisions— tempo, breath, space, and when not to sing.

Collaboration as Communion
Her partnership with Donny Hathaway produced some of the most emotionally resonant duets ever recorded, including Where Is the Love and The Closer I Get to You. These were not performances stacked for effect; they were conversations. You can hear the listening.

“Roberta Flack taught us that feeling isn’t something you add— it’s something you reveal.” 
— Quincy Jones

Her Place in the Pantheon
Roberta Flack occupies a rare place in the musical pantheon— not as a stylist chasing novelty, but as a truth-teller who altered the emotional grammar of popular song. Before her rise, mainstream success favored projection, urgency, and theatricality. Flack proved that stillness could command attention, that silence could function as phrasing, and that vulnerability could carry commercial weight.

She belongs alongside artists who didn’t merely succeed in their era, but reshaped listener expectation— Music Artists who changed what audiences were willing to feel, and how long they were willing to stay with a feeling. Her influence isn’t measured by imitation so much as permission. She gave later artists the courage to slow down, to trust the listener, and to believe that subtle emotional intelligence could resonate just as deeply as spectacle.

“I’m not a soul singer. I’m a singer who sings soulfully.” 
— Roberta Flack

Greatness, in her case, wasn’t about dominance.
It was about authority without force.

A Quiet Radical in a Loud Industry
Roberta Flack’s presence was quietly radical. As a Black woman with classical training, intellectual rigor, and emotional subtlety, she defied industry expectations without ever announcing that she was doing so. 

She refused caricature. 
She refused urgency. 
She refused to perform emotion she didn’t genuinely inhabit.

Her records asked listeners— and executives— to meet her in nuance and interiority. 

She refused to chase radio; radio adjusted to her. 
She refused to follow trends; trends slowed down around her.

For Singer Songwriters, this is a masterclass in self-trust. Flack demonstrated that knowing who you are musically is not arrogance— it’s discipline. In a business that often pressures artists to exaggerate identity, she modeled the power of precision instead.

Her rebellion was not loud.
It was simply immovable.

Interpretation as Composition
One of Roberta Flack’s most enduring lessons is that interpretation is authorship. She took songs written by others and made them definitive through phrasing, harmonic shading, and emotional clarity. She didn’t overwrite the song— she revealed it.

This is essential for Singer Songwriters to understand. The performance is the composition. How you pace a line, where you breathe, how long you hold silence— these are creative acts as consequential as melody or lyric.

Beyond the Hits: Purpose and Legacy
Flack reimagined Somewhere from West Side Story as a quiet anthem of unity. She was an early advocate for LGBTQ+ rights, mentored younger artists including Luther Vandross, and founded the Roberta Flack School of Music in the Bronx.

When the Fugees reintroduced Killing Me Softly in the 1990s, it wasn’t a revival— it was confirmation. Her approach was timeless.

“She made space feel musical.” 
— Norah Jones

What Singer Songwriters Can Learn from Roberta Flack

• Trust the song— if it’s true, it doesn’t need embellishment
• Honor silence— space invites the listener in
• Interpretation is authorship— meaning matters more than force
• Restraint is a skill— cultivate it deliberately
• Listening is leadership— great performances feel mutual

The Enduring Measure of Greatness
Roberta Flack received lifetime honors from the Grammy Awards and the Jazz Foundation of America, but her truest legacy lives elsewhere— in the way artists phrase a line, slow a tempo, or dare to whisper.

“Roberta Flack taught us that intimacy is power. She slowed the world down long enough for people to actually feel again.”
— Alicia Keys

She showed us that vulnerability can be authoritative. 
That subtlety can move markets. 
That a voice, guided by intelligence and care, can change how music feels.

Roberta Flack belongs— unequivocally— among The Greatest Music Artists of All Time.

Not because she was loud.
Because she was listened to.

“Roberta Flack didn’t just sing songs— she inhabited them. She made you believe that every lyric was being discovered in the moment she sang it.”
— Paul Simon

  in partnership with Your Morning Coffee and Jay Gilbert

We look ahead best when we remember who and what shaped us.

___________________

• Remember to Remember— the Music Artists* We Lost This Year and What They Left Us * Some of the artists…

Every year ends the same way on the calendar.
But culturally, no year ends the same way twice.

This year, we said goodbye to Music Artists whose work shaped how we feel, how we listen, and— for many— how we learned to make music at all. Some were giants. Some were quiet architects. Some had already stepped back from the spotlight.

What matters isn’t how famous they were when they left.
What matters is what remains.

Because music doesn’t leave the way people do. It stays.

It stays in late-night drives when a song suddenly understands you better than anyone else.
It stays in a lyric that gave you permission to feel what you were already feeling.
It stays in a sound that still echoes through the work of artists who came later.

That’s the real measure of a music artist’s life.

Not charts.
Not sales.
Not awards.

Lasting Contribution.

__________  

• Ozzy Osbourne

“Music is the soundtrack of your life.”

Ozzy Osbourne turned darkness into catharsis. Beneath the theatrics was a willingness to name fear, confusion, rage— and survive it out loud. Heavy music didn’t just get louder because of Ozzy. It got more honest. He gave outsiders a voice, and in doing so reminded us that release can be a form of healing.

• Brian Wilson

“Music is God’s voice.”

Brian Wilson expanded the emotional vocabulary of popular music. He showed that complexity could still feel intimate— that ambition, fragility, and beauty could exist in the same breath. His work invited listeners inside the song, proving that music could be a place you enter, not just something you hear.

• Roberta Flack

“I try to express what I feel deep inside.”

Roberta Flack sang with restraint, intelligence, and profound empathy. She trusted silence as much as sound. Her songs didn’t demand attention— they invited it. In doing so, she reminded us that emotional truth doesn’t need volume to be powerful. It just needs honesty.

• Steve Cropper

“Play what you need, not what you want.”

Steve Cropper was a builder. His guitar work didn’t shout— it supported. He understood that great songs are often held together by what’s not played. Cropper helped define the rhythmic soul of American music, proving that contribution isn’t always about the spotlight. Sometimes it’s about making everyone else better.

• Joe Ely

“I never thought much about categories. I just wanted the songs to feel true.”

Joe Ely blurred the lines between country, rock, folk, and storytelling long before genre-blending was fashionable. His music carried place, dust, humor, and humanity. Ely’s songs felt lived-in— like they’d been riding shotgun for years. He reminded us that roots aren’t constraints. They’re launchpads.

• Angie Stone

“I’m a survivor.”

Angie Stone brought warmth, resilience, and truth to everything she touched. Her voice carried history— personal and cultural— without bitterness. She sang about love, loss, and self-respect as lived experience, not theory. Her work still moves bodies, but more importantly, it steadies hearts.

• Gwen McCrae

“Music is meant to make you feel good.”

Gwen McCrae made joy feel physical. Her music moved through rooms like electricity— immediate, undeniable, generous. She understood that dance music isn’t escapism; it’s survival. Her grooves still remind us that joy itself can be a form of resistance.

• Chris Rea

“The road is my home.”

Chris Rea was a road-worn storyteller. His songs felt like conversations held somewhere between destinations— reflective, patient, and human. He wrote music that didn’t rush you. It walked beside you. His work remains a companion for long drives and quiet reckonings.

• Sly Stone

“Different strokes for different folks.”

Sly Stone didn’t just make music— he changed the temperature of culture. He fused funk, soul, rock, and social truth into something joyous and confrontational at the same time. His work insisted that difference wasn’t something to smooth over, but something to celebrate. Music got freer because Sly existed.

What Remains
Different voices.
Different genres.
Different paths.
Same gift.

They didn’t just perform music.
They offered something.

And once offered, it doesn’t belong to the artist alone anymore.
It belongs to the listener who pressed play at exactly the right moment.

The musician who learned what was possible by listening closely.
The fan who carried a song forward into their own life.

That’s why music loss is different.
A voice may go silent.
But the song keeps speaking.
The artists may have moved on— to wherever Music Artists go next.
But the music hasn’t gone anywhere.
It’s still here.

And as long as it’s played, shared, remembered— the connection remains.

__________  

NOTE: Did we miss somebody? Of course. We always do. And after the first of the year, we’ll look back— and probably notice things we couldn’t quite see yet. ❤️

____________________

One last thought before we step into the New Your.

There's something oddly liberating about admitting you're starting over at 68 years old.

Not because the previous chapters were wasted. But because you finally understand what story you were supposed to be telling all along.

I've carried four decades of music industry experience like luggage— some of it valuable, most of it heavy. A&R desks. Artist management. Festival promotion. Indie label ownership. I learned how the machine worked. I participated in it. I even profited from it.

And then, slowly, I couldn't unknow what I'd learned.
I couldn't unknow that the systems I'd helped operate were designed to extract value from artists, not create it for them. 
That exposure became currency because we convinced Music Artists it was. 

That somewhere between a fan loving a song and an artist paying rent, we'd built an entire infrastructure dedicated to standing in the middle and taking a cut.

TrueFans CONNECT™ emerged from that uncomfortable knowing.

The premise is almost embarrassingly simple: when someone experiences music that moves them, they should be able to say thank you directly. 

The artist should keep 80% of that gratitude. No intermediaries repositioning themselves between human connection and calling it business.

This isn't redemption— it's something closer to reparation. Using everything I learned about how the industry extracts to build something that actually gives.

Roberta Flack understood something the rest of us kept forgetting: quiet power matters more than loud promises. She trusted that if the connection was real, everything else would follow. She didn't chase the industry. She waited for it to adjust to her.

That's what we're doing with TrueFans CONNECT™. Not chasing the next platform trend. Not promising to democratize anything. Just building what should have existed all along— a direct line between appreciation and compensation.

We're only just getting started because we're finally building what matters.

Not the technology. Not the features. The relationship. Fan to artist. Human to human. Value exchanged honestly.

68 years old. I've lived in America for 24 years. I've built systems I wouldn't build today and taken cuts I shouldn't have kept. But maybe that's exactly why this matters now. Because I know where all the extraction points are. I know how the game was rigged.

And I finally know what to build instead.
Artists keep 80%. Same rules. Any stage.

The year ahead isn't about predictions.
It's about what we decide matters.
We've made our decision.

If you're tired of exposure being treated as payment, reach out. 

We're building this together. 
And we're only just beginning.

Until we speak again...

Thanks for reading. Give us your feedback.

And PLEASE, if you've got any Singer Songwriter friends, pass the AMP on, because... It’s Time... for a Change. Big Time. Past Time...