The Incredible Shrinking Song

short songs, early hooks, and algorithm-friendly lyrics. welcome to the new sound of survival.

Jack Black has a song about chicken. Lava-cooked chicken, to be exact. It's called "Steve's Lava Chicken," and it clocks in at 34 seconds. It's the shortest song to ever chart on the Billboard Hot 100 and the UK Top 40. Is it an instant classic? No, it's a business model.

And it's not just Jack Black. Songs everywhere are shrinking. Blink, and it's already looping. Spotify's autoplay kicks in before you even realize the second verse never showed up. Soon, the hook will be the entire song. Intros will be gone. Bridges will be obsolete. And the algorithm will be like, finally!

anyone can be a popstar with the right formula and $$$. i guess.

Once upon a time, songs were short because they had to be. The 78rpm record limited tracks to about three minutes. That's why oldies are so short. That's why pop radio kept its sugar highs brief. But those were physical constraints. CDs blew the door open in the late 80s. Suddenly, 10-minute tracks were fair game.

Now, we live in a completely digital era. No space limitations. You could upload a 40-minute slowcore requiem tomorrow, and the server wouldn't stutter. Time constraints are dead, so why do songs keep shrinking?

• Because now the limits aren't physical. They're behavioral. Psychological. Economic. We're not writing short songs because we have to. We're writing short songs because they're listener-preferred.

• Streaming doesn't reward long songs. It rewards replays. A two-minute song that gets replayed five times earns more than a four-minute song played once. There's no bonus for a bridge. No incentive for a buildup.

• Algorithms track skip rates (how fast a user bails on a song). If a listener doesn't get hooked in the first 10-15 seconds, that song is as good as dead. Songs today are not only shorter, but the hooks come in earlier than ever in an attempt to keep the listener from pressing skip.

This has changed the way songs are built. Now, it’s best if they’re front-loaded so that you get to the hook within the first 15 seconds. Slow burns are a liability. We're hungry for a sugary snack, not a five-course meal.

Today's hits are built for clips, not albums. They're written to soundtrack 15 seconds of lip-syncing, thirst-trapping, salacious confessionals or step-by-step tutorials. As someone who listens for lyrics first, it's been interesting to see what lyrics "hit." The rise of platforms like TikTok has influenced lyric trends, favoring catchy, memeable lines that can be easily shared and adapted. This has led to a focus on hooks and phrases that resonate within short-form video content.

Songs are becoming catchphrase delivery systems. The punchline is the highlight and the buildup isn’t needed. Lyrics have to be quippy and straight-forward. Nothing that is obscure or requires reading between the lines. Damn, this makes me think I should re-release my 2013 song Ike Turner:

only a real poet like me could rhyme jesus with penis

If you're Taylor Swift, you can release a 10-minute ballad with no hook and still debut at #1. If you're an unknown artist? You need to grab attention immediately. No slow intro. No lyrical ambiguity. No subtle builds. You're competing against thousands of other tracks, most of them designed to work within TikTok's constraints.

Major artists can experiment because they're already trending. Small artists can't afford to take the same risks. Not when the algorithm punishes obscurity and rewards universal formulas.

And yet, music agents, promoters, and press still cling to outdated practices. Touring is still based on record cycles. Labels still want full length albums (and every track should be a hit, lol). Most publications refuse to write reviews on singles or EPs unless it comes from someone already famous. The industry demands that artists prove themselves using formats that algorithms and listeners don’t want.

We can say it's about a lack of free time. We're all soooo busy. Who has five minutes for a song? But let's be real: it's not about being busy. It's about being bored.

We crave immediate gratification. We scroll because stillness is unbearable. We want want constant stimulation or else we don’t know what to do with ourselves.

Side note: My theory is that the more easily bored you are, the more boring you probably are. If you can't handle nuance, tension, or waiting for the payoff—what exactly are you bringing to the table? Good conversation and critical thinking? Doubtful.

Short songs give you instant hits of dopamine. You don't have to invest. You don't have to wonder if it's going somewhere. You get what you came for and fast. Long songs ask for curiosity. For patience. Perhaps even a few listens. They require that you show up with more than just a trigger finger. That kind of engagement isn't alluring. Nor is it optimized.

That’s not to say that short songs can’t be great. Yes, Jack Black has the shortest charting song in history, but PinkPantheress has built an entire career out of 90-second diaristic loops. And I absolutely love Tierra Whack’s Whack World—an LP that totals less than 15 minutes.

Tierra Whack photographed by Caroline Tompkins for Fader

We can't fight evolution. The culture shifts with or without our permission. Listener preferences develop more rapidly than the industry can keep up with. The audience no longer wants what they used to want. Forcing them into listening to every song on a record while reading the liner notes is (unfortunately) not an option.

So what now? How do we adapt? Must we optimize our art for bite-sized dopamine hits and viral potential? Or do we draw a line and make art for ourselves even if that means risking being ignored?

I've come to accept that if I want to make money, it probably won't be from music. For what it’s worth, I'd love to make a full-length record that's just a collection of peculiar interludes (as I’ve said, I’m a huge hiphop fan). But, I prefer verses over choruses. No hooks. Just ideas. And that’s why I’m not a hit artist. And that's fine. I have other million-dollar ideas, such as starting an indie music collective. Or working as a death doula. Or getting a part-time job at a bookstore. You know, classic entrepreneurial gold!

Maybe this is the new binary: artists who prioritize going viral vs. artist who prioritize being artists. Content vs. craft. Want to make money? Get with the new program. Want to make art? Don't expect a payout. Or a review. Or even a play.

Of course, there will be a group of outliers who are capable of both but they won’t be the majority. At least until the pre-streaming generation of artists give up retire.

I don't know. I’m just spitballing.

But maybe the real question isn't "Why are songs getting shorter?"

Maybe it's: What kind of artist do you want to be now that nobody's listening?

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c u next tuesday.

XX CARRÉ

ps: