t now seems increasingly apparent that music, too, is at risk of becoming a casualty of artificial intelligence. The observation raises several questions, the most urgent being: is humankind moving towards a point where machines might overtake what has long been considered uniquely human?

Such concerns are not new. Every major technological shift has seen some form of them, beginning with the industrial revolution in the 18th Century. Romanticism emerged partly as a response - a cultural, artistic and literary movement that asserted the superiority of human creativity, insisting that it could neither be subdued nor matched by machines.

Since then, every advancement in technology has appeared to threaten the centrality of human presence.

Technology has shaped musical expression for far longer than artificial intelligence. The process began with the recording of sound in the late 19th Century. Before that, music had always been live. To listen to music meant to be present, not just to the performance, but to the performer, whose needs and presence were part of the experience. Music was not something one switched on and off; it was something one participated in.

Recording altered that relationship. It also changed vocal technique, replacing full-throated projection with a more modulated style suited to microphones. Many believe that artists such as KL Saigol and Lata Mangeshkar would not have emerged in the same way without developments in sound engineering.

Film songs, which became immensely popular, were also products of technology, as was cinema. The familiar three-minute song was shaped by the limitations of early recording discs. Classical forms such as khayal gaiki were compressed by these constraints. Instead of the gradual unfolding of a raga in the presence of an audience, performances often became more compact, emphasising virtuosity.

If machines start producing music that appears culturally grounded, a new paradigm may emerge, one in which heritage risks being detached from its origins.

The invention of radio further conditioned music, influencing duration, pitch, structure and the relationship between voice and instrument. Spaces such as shrines, temples and gurdwaras also shaped music and its reception.

Traditionally, musicians devoted years to perfecting sur through rigorous riyaz. Today, tools such as auto-tune allow for mechanical correction. Precision, once achieved through discipline, can now be simulated. Some artists navigated these changes without losing their artistic integrity. Asha Bhosle, for instance, adapted to shifting technologies while retaining control over her voice.

Artificial intelligence, however, introduces a different scale of change. Its full potential is yet to be realised, but it raises the possibility that the human presence in music may diminish significantly. Music can now be generated, assembled or performed without direct human involvement. In some cases, even the performer can be constructed.

Music has always been rooted in culture, shaped by memory and lived experience. If machines start producing music that appears culturally grounded, a new paradigm may emerge, one in which heritage risks being detached from its origins and absorbed into technological systems.

Whether this marks a continuation of past transformations or a more fundamental shift remains uncertain. What is clear is that the relationship between human creativity and technology is entering a new and more complex phase.

The writer is a Lahore-based culture writer.