Christopher Wieduwilt

25 Years in Music

I picked up a guitar at 15. My brother played drums. Our first band was Blooms of Vanity, which grew into Gravity Grows Wings — metal and metalcore, touring Northern Germany, recording a full-length album and an EP, getting featured in China's biggest rock magazine. We built something real on those stages.

When the band wound down, I went solo. I founded A Crush On Yesterday around 2008 — acoustic, indie, singer-songwriter — and released a full-length album. By my early 20s, both projects were putting up 500,000+ plays on Myspace. Then I toured the US coast-to-coast with a friend: Los Angeles, Chicago, Dallas, Madison, city to city, every stage we could get on.

Then Myspace crashed. And I lost my entire fanbase overnight.

I didn't see it coming. Nobody did. One day the plays were there. The next day the platform was irrelevant and years of audience-building were gone. I was back to zero.

I moved to London. I worked at Z Records (run by UK house legend Dave Lee, formerly Joey Negro). I managed folk-indie band Flight Brigade. I was Studio Manager at Powerstudio, where Robbie Williams and Paloma Faith recorded. I was still in music — but I kept asking myself whether any of it was built to last, or whether we were all just renting space on someone else's platform.

That question stayed with me for a decade.

A Decade Building Systems

I spent the next ten years in product strategy and startup scaling. I took a food startup from zero to €150,000 per month in revenue. I built B2B platforms for Lufthansa. I trained product teams at Porsche, L'Oréal, and Goodyear. I helped my mother sell 150,000 books. I got very good at turning ideas into systems that scale.

But I never stopped thinking about what happened in London.

Every artist I knew was building on rented land. Social media followers, streaming plays, platform algorithms — none of it owned, all of it fragile. The Myspace crash wasn't a freak accident. It was the model. And most musicians were still running the same playbook, just on newer platforms.

Then AI arrived.

Why I Founded The AI Musicpreneur

In 2023, AI started showing up everywhere in music. Not just generation tools — AI songwriting assistants, stem separators, AI mixing and mastering, audio processing that used to cost thousands and now cost nothing. Artists were using ChatGPT to write lyrics, AI to process vocals, and tools that could split a track into stems in seconds.

Nobody was covering it for the artist. There was no independent newsroom tracking the lawsuits, the label deals, the policy rewrites. And nobody was showing musicians how to actually use AI for music promotion.

So in August 2023, I founded The AI Musicpreneur and launched the weekly newsletter.

Then Suno arrived at the end of 2023 and the copyright questions started immediately. Who owns the output? What was it trained on? What does this mean for the artist who spent ten years building a sound? I was already there, covering it.

I built the world's first AI prompt library for music artists — showing them how to use AI for bios, press releases, TikTok scripts, release strategies, and fan outreach. Still available to every newsletter subscriber today. By 2024, 50,000+ creators were using my work. By 2025, that number had grown to 200,000+ across my platforms.

What I Cover

The AI Musicpreneur is an independent newsroom. No label owns it. No VC funds it. No platform has a stake in what I write.

I cover AI music news every week: the tools (Suno, Udio, Moises, ElevenLabs Music), the lawsuits (Suno/UMG, Udio/Kobalt, indie class actions), the streaming policy shifts (Spotify, Apple Music, Deezer, Tencent), the label deals, the AI artists (Xania Monet, Chin Styles, Olivia B. Moore), and the chart movements that tell you where this is all heading.

Every story ends with the same question: does this help artists own their audience, or does it move that ownership somewhere else?

Where I Stand

My editorial stance has not changed since day one.

AI is a tool. Human judgment is the skill. The artists who understand that distinction and act on it early will build something that lasts. The ones who ignore it, on either side (blind adoption or blanket refusal), will get left behind by both the technology and the audience.

I use what I call the Sandwich Method: a human seed idea, an AI iteration, and a human judgment call to finalize. Every piece I publish goes through that process. No raw AI output, ever.

The goal is 1,000 true fans who pay you directly. Not 10 million streams on a platform that can change its payout model tomorrow.

Questions or speaking inquiries: [email protected]