Nostalgia is a beautiful emotion, allowing us to revisit the past, to relive moments of happiness, or to yearn for experiences we never had but always longed for. A familiar smell or sound conjures up something innately personal and deep within us, creating a unique sensation that we can’t help but yearn for. We feel this pull to the past because it offers comfort during times of uncertainty and stress; however, it can also trap us in a constant state of escapism, distorting our perception of the past and idealising it even when it wasn’t as perfect as we remember. This problem of false idealisation seeps into every aspect of our lives, distorting and inevitably ruining it.  

A warped idealisation of the past effects the music world in particular. To what extent is modern music truly original, captivating, and interesting – something that makes us pause and say, “I’ve never heard this before” or “I want to explore this further”? Contemporary music, particularly pop, arguably feels like a mere reiteration of everything we have already seen and known. Addison Rae mirrors Britney Spears’s sound and style while Sabrina Carpenter openly paid homage to Britney at the 2025 VMAs. Similarly, Greta Van Fleet echoes the tones of Led Zeppelin and Fall Out Boy draws on the energy of Blink-182. Even The Weekend’s ‘After Hours’ album reuses the 1980s synth-pop aesthetic, just as Olivia Rodrigo channels early 2000s pop-punk. Such examples are infinite and therefore problematic.  

Taking this one step further, we also have modern artists outright sampling old songs, using familiar sounds to create a sense of nostalgia to increase the commercial potential of a new track. If it’s been a hit before, it’ll be a hit again. For example, the copyright case accusing Ed Sheeran of imitating Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On", or intentionally sampling a portion of a song like Lil Nas X and Cardi B's "Rodeo", which sampled Yeasayer's "Sunrise". Interestingly, this isn’t a new phenomenon; Elvis Presley was often accused of copying the performance style and vocal techniques of black artists, particularly early on in his career. Sadly, however, this trend is growing increasingly worse. More and more, artists are criticised for releasing music videos that closely mirror those of others, while their visual presentation often imitates another performer’s signature style.  For example, Beyoncé was publicly accused by Japanese artist Hajime Sorayama of copying his signature erotic-robot artworks for her Renaissance tour visuals. Then there is the actual music itself, with virtually every pop song hit drawing on established formulas, recycled chord progressions, familiar melodic hooks, retro aesthetics, or nostalgic production techniques. All aspects of the artist are being rehashed, copied or stolen. 

Ultimately, this failure of creativity is the downside of nostalgia, and we are in part to blame. In reference to Adam Smith’s invisible hand, the music industry is guided by consumer demand, and our collective preferences are the invisible force which directs what gets produced and how much of it. The commercialised nature of music nowadays compels the industry to respond to what people want, and because we feed into this nostalgic desire and sounds that remind us of “a better time”, they continue to give them to us. And because everything is an imitation of something else, we therefore begin to see the prioritisation of commercial safety over artistic experimentation. Algorithms, streaming metrics, and market-tested production formulas have created a culture where risk-taking is punished. As a result, we get the metaphorical death of genuinely new and innovative music. 

TikTok in particular has changed the way we digest and create music. The platform’s algorithm rewards fifteen to thirty second catchy hooks, beats, or lyrics that will trend and make the most money. The ones most likely to do so are the nostalgic sound bites that we demand and crave, exacerbating the problem that everything in popular culture today is a rehash of something that already exists. Adding the social media component into this means that a larger audience of people fall into this trap of feeding into the industry which continues to produce the same kind of music. Artists are pushed to craft their music around the part most likely to go viral, as it's what will give them greater traction in a world where artistic experimentation is punished more often than not.   

Linking this back to the artists themselves, we can see that most artists in popular culture today lack their own identity. What do they really stand for, what is their unique selling point, and why are fans invested in them? Taylor Swift exemplifies how excessive nostalgia can erode artistic identity. Despite being one of the most powerful women in pop culture, she arguably lacks a distinct sense of self. Her reliance on reinvention often manifests not as creative evolution but as imitation, a continual recycling of past aesthetics and sounds. Her fashion, for instance, rarely feels original; it leans toward hyper-feminine glamour and pageant-like polish, evoking older eras rather than defining new ones. Moreover, her shift from country to pop appeared less a natural artistic progression than a calculated adaptation to mainstream trends. In this sense, Swift’s career reflects how nostalgia, when overindulged, can replace authenticity with replication, leaving even the most influential artists without a clear, enduring identity of their own. Interestingly, Taylor Swift’s immense cultural influence has given rise to a new wave of so-called “Taydaughters”, artists like Phoebe Bridgers, Beabadoobee, Griff, Girl in Red, and Gracie Abrams, all of whom cite her as a major inspiration. Yet, this very lineage raises a crucial question: Where does inspiration end and imitation begin? In a music industry obsessed with nostalgia, these artists often echo Swift’s aesthetic, lyrical tone, and emotional branding so closely that originality becomes blurred. Perhaps the real issue is not their lack of identity, but our collective craving for nostalgia and familiarity, for sounds, styles, and sentiments that remind us of something we’ve already loved before. In this cycle of repetition disguised as homage, are we celebrating creativity, or simply perpetuating an endless loop of copies masquerading as originals?  

Additionally, Dua Lipa feels like a very generic pop artist, which is evident through her fan base, as it is quite broad and unspecific. With her, we don’t see the same intense fandoms attached to other major artists. When you go to a Gracie Abrams concert for example, everyone is in a bow and a white skirt; you know exactly the type of audience that’s going to be there. This is in part perhaps because Dua Lipa is unexplicit in terms of who she is and what she stands for; the music isn’t particularly personal – instead embodying an overdone, nostalgic 80s disco-esque – and so audiences struggle to resonate with her on a deeper level.  You no longer see the same charisma and charm in today’s artists that once defined those of the past, though perhaps that’s just me being (ironically) nostalgic. Fundamentally, just from these references, we can see that artists today lack their own personal identity and personality. 

Importantly, however, the artist isn’t necessarily to blame. Although it could be sheer laziness, it could also be the fact that they don’t know who they are and what they represent in the industry themselves. Rather, they are just an imitation of a pre-existing artist or nostalgic time they are trying to recreate. How does one even begin to build a unique brand or image for themselves if nothing they have done before is actually their own work or an original and creative idea? I think pop culture is uniquely important in this discussion because pop culture is the most frequently consumed mode of culture as a society. Therefore, it reflects the increasing loss of artistry being discussed; it is a microcosm of what is happening in wider society, which is likely to branch out into other forms of art in the future. 

This article is not disregarding nostalgia or saying that we shouldn’t long for the past; however, it can hinder our ability to grow and innovate. We are at fault for creating this high demand and desire for nostalgia, both in life and in music specifically; the industry has only complied. In the words of Picasso, “Good artists copy; great artists steal.”