Why I've Grown to Hate Spotify: A Tale of Ads and Lost Control

There's a particular flavour of frustration that comes from watching something you once enjoyed slowly transform into something you actively resent. For me, that's Spotify. And honestly? It's been building for a while now.

I'm not talking about the usual complaints about artist compensation (though those are valid) or the podcast invasion that's cluttered what used to be a straightforward music app. I'm talking about something more fundamental: the erosion of control over my own listening experience, combined with an increasingly aggressive advertising strategy that treats free-tier users like we're bloody livestock to be monetised.

The Ads: A Masterclass in Psychological Warfare

Weaponised Interruptions

Let me be clear about what Spotify's advertising has become. It's not just frequent – it's weaponised. They've perfected the art of making the free tier so insufferable that you'll pay just to make it stop. And fair enough, that's the business model. Except it's gotten to the point where the ads aren't just interrupting the music; they're actively ruining the experience.

Picture this: you're listening to something atmospheric – maybe a long ambient track, or you've finally found that perfect flow state whilst working. Then suddenly, at maximum volume, some overly cheerful voice is screaming at you about car insurance or, god forbid, Spotify Premium itself. The irony of being advertised Spotify's own paid tier whilst using Spotify is not lost on me. It's like being held hostage and having your captor try to upsell you on better chains.

The Frequency Problem

The frequency has ramped up considerably over the years. What started as an ad every few songs has become an ad after nearly every song during peak hours. And they're not subtle about it – there's a deliberate aggression to how jarring these interruptions are. They want you uncomfortable. They want you annoyed. They want you reaching for your wallet just to make it stop.

Completely Broken Targeting

The targeting is somehow both invasive and completely incompetent. I recently got a Christmas-themed ad in late September. Late September. Not even October, the month that Halloween owns by rights – straight into bloody Christmas advertising. But that's not even the most baffling example: I once got served an ad for French elections. In French. I live in the UK. I don't speak French fluently, I can't vote in French elections, and I have absolutely no idea why Spotify's advertising algorithm thought this was relevant to me.

It's emblematic of how little Spotify cares about user experience on the free tier. We're not customers; we're conversion targets. And apparently, we're targets who'll sit through literally any advert, regardless of whether it makes the slightest bit of sense.

The Illusion of Control

Desktop vs Mobile: Two Different Experiences

But the ads are just part of it. What really gets to me is how little control Spotify gives you over your own music library, particularly on mobile.

On desktop, it's relatively fine – you can pick specific songs, control playback, and generally behave like you're using a music player rather than a slot machine. But on mobile, even with a curated playlist, Spotify's default behaviour is to shove "recommended" tracks into your queue after your playlist ends. Sometimes during your playlist, if it thinks you'd enjoy something else.

Algorithmic Interference

I don't want algorithmic suggestions mid-playlist. If I've built a specific playlist, there's usually a reason. Maybe it's for a particular mood, or a specific task, or it follows a thematic thread. When Spotify decides to throw in random tracks because "you might like this," it breaks the flow entirely.

The Shuffle Lie

And the shuffle function? Don't get me started. I'm convinced Spotify's shuffle isn't truly random – there's definitely algorithmic weighting going on. Certain tracks seem to appear far more frequently than others, and I've had multiple instances where the same song played twice in a "shuffled" queue of hundreds of tracks. It's maddening when you realise the randomness you've been promised is actually curated randomness, optimised for... what? Engagement metrics? Keeping you on the platform longer?

The Creeping Enshittification

What Is Enshittification?

There's a term that perfectly describes what's happening to Spotify: enshittification . Coined by writer Cory Doctorow, it's the process by which platforms that were once good for users gradually become worse as they optimise for profits over experience.

Initially, Spotify was brilliant. Access to millions of tracks, decent streaming quality, and whilst there were ads, they were tolerable. The free tier was genuinely usable. Over time, though, the screws have tightened. The ads got more frequent and more aggressive. The mobile experience became increasingly restricted. Features that used to be available to everyone got locked behind Premium.

Features Stripped Away

Take lyrics, for instance. At one point, lyrics were freely available to all users through various partnerships. Then Spotify partnered with Musixmatch , and whilst lyrics are technically available to free users now, the experience varies significantly by region and many features remain Premium-locked. The same information that you could previously access – often contributed by users themselves – became part of a more restricted ecosystem. It's not that they added value; they took something away and then charged to give it back in full.

The Mobile Downgrade

Or consider the ability to select specific tracks on mobile. This used to be standard. Now, on the free tier, you're limited to shuffle play on most playlists and albums. Want to hear a specific song? Tough. Shuffle through your queue and hope it comes up, or pay for Premium. It's a deliberately degraded experience designed to funnel you towards the subscription.

The Spotify Premium Upsell: Everywhere, Always

The Relentless Sales Pitch

And the upselling. Dear god, the upselling.

Every time you open the app, there's a prompt about Premium. Every ad break includes at least one ad for Premium itself. There are banners, notifications, and even entire screens dedicated to trying to convert you. It's relentless, and it's exhausting.

Psychological Pressure

I understand that Spotify wants people to subscribe – that's how they make money. But the constant barrage of "upgrade now" messaging creates a hostile user experience. It feels less like an invitation and more like psychological pressure. They're not selling you on the benefits of Premium; they're making the free tier so unpleasant that Premium seems like the only escape.

Condescending Messaging

The messaging itself is often condescending too. "Tired of ads? Go Premium." Well, yes, obviously I'm tired of ads – you put them there. It's like setting someone's house on fire and then offering to sell them a fire extinguisher.

The Paradox of Choice

Access Without Experience

Here's the really frustrating thing: Spotify's catalogue is genuinely impressive. Millions of tracks, thousands of artists, an absurd variety of genres and subgenres. On paper, it's a music lover's dream. But in practice, that vast library feels increasingly inaccessible when the listening experience itself is so compromised.

Having access to every song ever recorded means nothing if I can't listen to them without constant interruption. It's like being given keys to a massive library but only being allowed to read one page at a time before someone shouts advertising slogans at you.

Trapped by Market Dominance

And because Spotify has such market dominance, switching platforms isn't straightforward. Apple Music, Tidal, YouTube Music – they all have their own issues, and none of them offer a truly satisfactory free tier either. Spotify's monopolistic position in the streaming market means they can afford to make the free experience worse without worrying too much about losing users, because where else are we going to go?

Why I Haven't Left (Yet)

The Inertia Problem

Despite all of this, I'm still using Spotify. Mostly out of inertia, I'll admit. My playlists are there, my listening history is there, and the thought of rebuilding everything on a different platform feels exhausting. Plus, there's no guarantee any alternative would be substantially better.

Refusing to Negotiate

I've considered paying for Premium, obviously. That's the intended outcome of all this friction. But part of me resents the idea of paying to remove artificial limitations that Spotify deliberately implemented to make the free tier unbearable. It's not that Premium offers amazing features I desperately want – it's that it removes the deliberately degraded aspects of the free experience. Paying to undo enshittification feels like negotiating with hostage-takers.

And honestly? I'm stubborn. Every time I hear another intrusive ad or get another Premium upsell notification, my resolve to not pay strengthens. It's probably cutting off my nose to spite my face, but there's something deeply annoying about being manipulated so transparently.

The Broader Problem: Streaming's Race to the Bottom

A Universal Pattern

Spotify's issues aren't unique to Spotify. They're symptomatic of a broader problem with the subscription economy and streaming platforms in general. Services launch with generous free tiers to capture market share, then gradually worsen those free experiences to drive subscription conversions.

We've seen it with YouTube (increasingly frequent and unskippable ads), Netflix (ad-supported tiers, password-sharing crackdowns), and countless others. The playbook is always the same: offer something good initially, build user dependence, then slowly degrade the experience whilst dangling a paid solution.

Normalised Hostility

The result is a landscape where "free" rarely means "good," and "paid" often means "acceptable." We've normalised paying subscriptions just to avoid deliberately introduced friction. It's exhausting, and it's everywhere.

What I Actually Want

My Ideal Music Streaming Experience

If I could design my ideal music streaming experience, it would look nothing like current Spotify. Here's what I'd want:

Full control over playback. Let me choose specific songs, skip as many times as I like, and build queues without algorithmic interference. If I want recommendations, I'll seek them out.

Reasonable advertising. I understand ads fund free tiers. Fine. But make them less frequent, less jarring, and definitely don't advertise your own paid tier to people already using your service. It's tacky.

Transparent algorithms. If you're weighting shuffle, tell me. If you're inserting recommended tracks into my playlists, let me disable it. Give users agency over their own listening experience.

Fair pricing. If Premium is meant to offer value, let it offer actual features rather than just removing artificial limitations. Right now, Premium feels like paying protection money to stop Spotify from deliberately sabotaging its own app.

Respect for users. Treat free-tier users like people, not conversion metrics. We're using your platform, listening to your ads, and generating data you monetise. A little respect for the user experience would go a long way.

The Reality Check

But that's fantasy, isn't it? Spotify's business model relies on the free tier being unpleasant enough to drive Premium subscriptions, and they've got no incentive to change that as long as it's working.

The Nostalgia for Ownership

Remembering When We Owned Music

There's something else underpinning my frustration with Spotify, and it's the memory of actually owning music. I'm old enough to remember downloading MP3s (legally and... otherwise), building iTunes libraries, and having complete control over what I listened to and when.

Sure, streaming offers convenience and access to a vastly larger catalogue. But that convenience comes at the cost of ownership and control. If Spotify decides to pull an artist from their platform, your playlists get gutted. If they change their terms of service, you either accept it or lose access to everything. You don't own anything; you're renting access, and the landlord can change the rules whenever they like.

The Disappearing Act

And here's the thing that really bothers me: media can just... poof. Gone. One day you're listening to an album, the next day it's been pulled due to licensing disputes, label changes, or artist decisions. Your carefully curated playlist now has greyed-out tracks that mock you with their inaccessibility. It's not just Spotify – streaming services in general treat media like it's ephemeral, and we're expected to just accept that nothing is permanent anymore.

Gen Z's Return to Physical Media

There's actually a trend going around in Gen Z right now where people are returning to iPods and MP3 players. Proper ones – either hunting down vintage iPods on eBay or buying modern equivalents. At first, I thought it was just aesthetic nostalgia, the same impulse that drives the resurgence of vinyl and film cameras. But talking to people doing it, there's something deeper: the desire for permanence and control.

When you own the files, they can't disappear. Taylor Swift can pull her catalogue, record labels can wage licensing wars, platforms can shut down entirely – and your music library remains untouched. There's security in that. There's also satisfaction in building something that's genuinely yours, curated by your choices rather than algorithmic recommendations.

Honestly? I'm genuinely considering joining them. The more I think about it, the more appealing it sounds to just... opt out of this whole streaming mess entirely.

Building Local Libraries Again

I've been thinking about returning to local music files. Building a proper library again, using something like Plex or Jellyfin to stream it across devices. It's more effort, certainly, but it's also mine. No ads, no algorithmic interference, no subscription fees, no company deciding what I can and can't access.

The barrier is partly practical – ripping or acquiring a library takes time, and storage isn't free – but partly psychological too. Streaming has made us lazy. We've traded ownership for convenience, and going back feels like regressing. But maybe that regression is actually a step forward in terms of control and autonomy.

Looking Forward (Or Backward, Depending on Perspective)

The Breaking Point Approaches

I don't know how long I'll stay on Spotify. Eventually, the friction will probably outweigh the convenience, and I'll either switch to a different streaming service (trading one set of problems for another) or return to local files (trading convenience for control).

What I do know is that Spotify's current trajectory isn't sustainable for user satisfaction. They're optimising for conversion rates and revenue, not for making people actually enjoy using their platform. And whilst that might work financially in the short term, it's building resentment amongst the user base.

They Might Be Right

Maybe that's fine for them. Maybe they've calculated that enough people will pay Premium to offset those who leave in frustration. Maybe they're banking on market dominance and switching costs to keep people locked in even when they're unhappy. It's possible they're right.

My Personal Breaking Point

But for me personally, the relationship has soured. Spotify used to feel like a tool that served me; now it feels like a platform trying to manipulate me into paying for a less-terrible experience. And every obnoxious ad, every Premium upsell, every algorithmic imposition on my playlists just reinforces that feeling.

I haven't quite reached the breaking point yet. But I can see it from here, and honestly? I'm not sure I'll miss Spotify when I finally get there.