A song has taken over everything. “Hawak Mo Ang Beat” pulses from TikTok feeds, echoes in school hallways, and dominates social media. But alongside the dance challenges and viral trends, a different question began to surface: was this hit created by a human, or by artificial intelligence?
The composer has denied AI involvement, yet the debate feels larger than a single song. We’re entering an era where distinguishing between human and machine-made art is becoming increasingly difficult. The question isn’t simply *can* AI create music, but *should* it?
This question became deeply personal recently. This Saturday, at the ASEAN Round Festival, a new P-pop song, “Sulong,” will debut, performed by three incredibly talented groups. I initiated the song’s creation, utilizing AI – specifically Suno – to explore arrangements and beats, accelerating the initial stages of composition.
But the AI was only the starting point. A skilled lyricist then meticulously crafted the words, refining the rhythm and, crucially, the emotional core. Real singers poured their hearts into the vocals, and experienced producers brought the track to life. The final result, to me, isn’t an AI song; it’s a profoundly human creation, enhanced by a powerful tool.
That’s the line we must draw. There’s a vast difference between complete AI generation and using AI as a modern instrument, much like any other technology in the creative process.
Remember the initial fears surrounding Photoshop, synthesizers, or Auto-Tune? Each was predicted to kill its respective art form. Yet, they’ve all become integral parts of how we create. A photographer isn’t considered a fraud for editing, nor is a producer accused of cheating for using a synthesizer.
AI, in my view, is simply the next evolution of these tools. However, “Sulong” held a significance beyond its musical composition.
I envisioned this song for specific P-pop groups – immensely talented artists who, despite their dedication, have often been overlooked. The entertainment industry often shines a spotlight on established stars, leaving others to wait in the shadows, hoping for recognition.
These groups understand that feeling intimately. They know the sting of relentless hard work yielding little acknowledgment, the frustration of being underestimated, and the courage required to persevere when others have given up.
That’s why “Sulong” transcended being just another song. It became *their* story – a powerful anthem of resilience and refusal to surrender.
It’s a song about bouncing back from setbacks, choosing to rise above indifference, and understanding that disappointments don’t dictate the future. The very title embodies this spirit: *Sulong*. Move forward. Push on.
As I listened to the finished track, I realized its message resonated far beyond those groups. It became a song for the Philippines itself.
Because so many Filipinos share that same feeling today. We navigate a challenging landscape of rising prices, economic uncertainty, and a sense of being left behind. Frustration and fatigue are growing, yet the Filipino spirit remains unbroken.
We are a nation defined by resilience. We rebuild after every typhoon, recover from every crisis, and overcome every disappointment. The Philippines is consistently underestimated, told we aren’t ready, aren’t good enough. Yet, time and again, we prove the doubters wrong.
That’s why “Sulong” resonated so deeply within me. It’s not just about artists seeking a comeback; it’s about a nation that continues to fight, despite the odds. And that’s something an AI could never truly replicate.
AI can generate a beat, suggest lyrics, and mimic a melody. But it cannot comprehend the pain of being ignored, the struggle of perseverance, or the triumph of overcoming adversity. Those are uniquely human experiences, understood only by real artists.
This is why the discomfort surrounding AI-generated music is valid. There are legitimate concerns. Copying an artist’s voice, imitating their style, or recreating their work without permission is not innovation; it’s theft. Artists deserve ownership of their voice, their music, and their identity. We need clear rules, ethical guidelines, and complete transparency.
However, outright rejection of AI would be a mistake. We risk missing the opportunity to harness its potential for good. The true power of AI lies not in replacing human creativity, but in amplifying it.
That’s precisely what happened with “Sulong.” AI provided a foundation, but human artistry infused it with soul. A lyricist refined the narrative, singers imbued it with emotion, and producers brought it to life. Perhaps that’s the future of music: not human *versus* AI, but human *plus* AI.
Technology can create the beat, but only people can give it a soul.
