The case of 'Jaime Brooks' perfectly illustrates how these scams will manifest in the world of music. By generating audio that is harmonically similar to classical music, 'Jaime' was able to trick Spotify into recommending it to classical listeners. By deploying familiar sounds in a randomized, nonsensical fashion, the resulting compositions were able to bypass copyright filters designed to block infringement of existing works. By targeting a style of music that often appears in sleep-oriented playlists, 'Jaime' gained access to the least discerning users on the entire platform. [...] This is how generators are going to change the internet in the coming years: by infesting the darkest, most neglected corners of our collective online experience with the digital equivalent of roaches, bed bugs, fruit flies, and mold.
I've wondered whether Spotify knows their library of video game music is as bad as it is. Search for any piece of video game music, even a well-known one, and you probably won't find it. But you will find a dozen opportunistic "covers" or "remixes" that perform the piece by making the same notes with approximately the same instruments. (I have nothing against actual video game remixes that, you know, remix something.)
You won't find "Dire, Dire Docks" from Super Mario 64 by Koji Kondo, but you will find "Dire, Dire Docks from Super Mario 64" by someone named Qumu, which sounds as much like it as you can without putting effort into it.
It sounds from this like they do know. They want you to listen to Qumu. They want to change your perception of music until Qumu sounds right to you. Because Qumu, whoever that is, does not expect to be paid very much for each listen.