In Year Three, AlgoRhythms Isn't Asking Permission Anymore

A hyperrealistic, editorial photograph of Indiana University’s Musical Arts Center interior at night.

Zinstrel illustration

You’d be forgiven if you didn’t look to Bloomington, Indiana, to find the front lines of an AI revolution. Nor within the hallowed halls of academia.

And that’s exactly why it matters.

Indiana University Jacobs School of Music is one of the largest and most historically respected music schools in the United States. Generations of orchestral players, opera singers, composers, and educators have passed through its halls. At a place like that, the expected move right now would be caution: wait, watch, and let the dust settle on this AI music thing before engaging it.

“We're at this crossroads where the lay of the land is going to change,” says IU’s Senior Lecturer in Music Entrepreneurship, Alain Barker. “The creative environment that we occupy at the university needs to have a conversation with the world that is shifting so dramatically around it.” 

To that end, IU is hosting the third-annual AlgoRhythms, a free conference that assembles an "Avengers-level" cast of artists, scholars, technologists, educators, and industry leaders to examine how AI is reshaping not just how music is made — but how it’s taught, owned, and experienced.

A trio of speakers at the 2nd AlgoRhythms at a panel discussion.

Source: AlgoRhythms

A Serious Bench of Participants

That lineup isn’t just impressive in the abstract. Across three years, AlgoRhythms has quietly built a serious bench of people who sit close to the industry’s pressure points. In the first year alone, the conference brought in voices from the U.S. Copyright Office, BandLab, Moises, WavTool,Loudly, JackTrip, Carnegie Mellon, and the University of the Arts London’s Creative Computing Institute — putting copyright officials, startup founders, and artist-tool builders into the same conversation almost from day one. 

In 2025, that widened into a roster that included MusicalAI co-founder and COO Matthew Adell, entertainment lawyer and former Rounder Records president John Strohm, and Billboard-recognized attorney Robert Meitus

Now, in year three, the stakes feel higher: Lucasfilm Assistant Chief Counsel Dan Amin is on the schedule, alongside Cherie Hu of Water & Music, LANDR's Daniel Rowland, and EDGE Sound Research's Ethan Castro. That kind of mix signals that AlgoRhythms is pulling in the people helping shape the legal, creative, technical, and strategic terms of what music becomes next. At this point, the school's commitment carries more weight than the programming itself.

At this point, the school's commitment carries more weight than the programming itself. Like AI music, this isn’t an experiment anymore. It’s a position.


Source: AlgoRhythms

A Conservatory That Didn’t Watch From the Sidelines

You don’t build a school like Jacobs by chasing trends. You build it by preserving standards like technique, discipline, and lineage. When AI music arrived wrapped in controversy — questions about authorship, datasets, and whether the work even “counts” — institutions like this had every reason to keep it at arm’s length.

IU didn’t. And they’re not pretending the tension isn’t there.

As Barker, the conference’s organizer, puts it: “At a time in which AI is blazing through our lives, this is an opportunity to look under the hood… to be realistic about its limitations and to leverage its powers in ways that enhance our creative potential.”

The structure of the event reflects this philosophy. Eschewing product demos or hype-heavy keynotes, the conference opens with a philosophical provocation: “Art in the Age of Mechanical Creativity.” The session is a clash of styles, juxtaposing the views of Darius Van Arman, a veteran of artist-first infrastructure, with those of Pindar Van Arman, who builds machines that create art. It is an opening salvo that prioritizes critical positioning over simple software training.

“People from the industry are able to engage with a community that they don’t normally connect with,” Barker says, “and out of that comes a lot of very interesting conversations.”

Source: AlgoRhythms

Where the System Meets the Law

By Thursday, the conversation moves into sharper territory. Inside a moot courtroom at IU’s law school, AlgoRhythms stages something most conferences avoid: a direct confrontation between music creation and legal reality.

A midday session on legal trends brings in voices like Dan Amin and Meitus, professionals tasked with interpreting systems already under strain. That afternoon, a panel including the University of Miami's Dr. Raina Murnak widens the lens — moving from compliance into something more fundamental: What does ownership even mean when creation itself is changing?

But it’s not just academics and tech startup founders entering the chat. Bassist and YouTube influencer Adam Neely will offer his take on how AI can get in the way of creativity. For those in the classical music space, Adam has, according to Barker, “become somewhat of a hero” with his viral take on AI music’s precarious place amongst traditional musicianship. He looks to share more of the same with the AlgoRhythms crowd.

Source: AlgoRhythms

Not A Student Conference (Although Students Are Everywhere)

Despite its academic setting, AlgoRhythms is anything but insular. It functions as a convergence point where executives, founders, and researchers are embedded as active participants rather than just guest speakers.

“Those in the music tech space don’t usually get the chance to engage in deeper conversations within a creative environment like a university,” Barker says. “What we’ve seen over the past two conferences is that people on all sides are amazed by what they learn from each other.”

The posture of openness and learning is set by keynote speaker Dmitri Vietze, head of Rock Paper Scissors, Inc. Having watched decades of music tech cycles, Vietze avoids the tired tropes likening AI to the arrival of the synthesizer or the drum loop.

“Every phase of the music industry has been about technology disrupting how music is made,” he says. “This time, things are different… we need collective efforts to truly keep human creativity alive.” 

It is a measured, serious posture and an acknowledgment that what’s happening here isn’t optional. It’s inevitable.

The Market Has Already Moved

This inevitability is echoed by Water & Music’s Hu, whose Saturday fireside chat focuses on structural shifts rather than philosophy. 

Her read on the market is blunt: “AI music is on a collision course… products are converging… rights holders are licensing the same catalogs… the risk is homogenization and power concentration.”

This is a present-tense problem, and one the conference surfaces through direct exposure. Friday's "Music Tech Playground" acts as a live, hands-on environment featuring platforms including Moises, SongHub, and EDGE Sound Research. No panels or speeches — just tools in the hands of attendees. By allowing people to use the tech themselves, AlgoRhythms collapses the divide between those debating AI and those already working with it.

"Some students see it as a threat," Barker admits, "but others have had their eyes opened and are very curious about what might be possible. Ultimately, creatives are going to do absolutely amazing things and we want to show that."

Through all of this, students aren't just observing from the sidelines; they are in the room. They’re sitting in panels where no one agrees on authorship. They’re hearing from educators like Matthew Blackmar and Ivica Bukvic, whose work spans musicology, immersive audio, and extended reality.

They are watching tools reshape workflows in real-time, preparing for careers that don’t have stable definitions yet. IU could have filtered that uncertainty for them. Instead, they’ve made it the curriculum.

By Saturday, various threads converge. SongHub CEO Steve Stewart doesn't sugarcoat the situation: "You can make professional quality music from anywhere. The barriers are all but erased."

Tracy Maddux reframes the human-versus-machine debate: "AI isn't good or bad for music; it's a tool. The real issue is that artists still don't have visibility into what they have and how it performs."

And Hu's read on the market is the sharpest thing said all weekend: "AI music is on a collision course… products are converging… rights holders are licensing the same catalogs… the risk is homogenization and power concentration."

That's a present-tense problem, not a hypothetical one, that affects builders, artists, and students hoping to make their mark on the space.


Source: AlgoRhythms

The Third-Year Signal

Anyone can host a conference once. By year three, an event ceases to be an observation and becomes a form of participation.

While parts of the industry and academia are still trying to slow AI music down — to define, regulate, or suppress it — Indiana University is taking the risk of letting it in. As Barker puts it, the conversation is essential for the next generation of creators.

"Three years ago, I felt we needed to open up this conversation at a research university with one of the largest and finest schools of music in the country, to consider how where we're headed can enable these traditions of creative practice to be as powerful and beautiful as they can be within an environment that is fundamentally shifting around them."

They're not claiming to have all the answers. But the people who will define the future are already in the room: builders, educators, and students. The only real question left is who is willing to shape what this becomes.


How to Attend

AlgoRhythms 2026 runs March 25–28 at Indiana University's Bloomington campus. All panel discussions are available via Zoom and YouTube Live for remote attendees. The Friday Music Tech Playground and the Friday evening reception are in-person only.

Attendance is free. Register at the link below.

Sign Up to Attend →


Disclosure: Zinstrel is participating in AlgoRhythms 2026 as a paid, featured platform in the Music Tech Playground and as a panelist in two Saturday sessions.

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