By Imlisanen Jamir
Almost no one makes it big in music. That’s not a secret — it’s a fact baked into the business. But what if someone did break through, not with talent or fans, but with code, bots, and songs written by artificial intelligence?
That’s the story of Mike Smith.
Smith isn’t a household name, but according to the FBI, he pulled off one of the largest known streaming fraud operations in the U.S. music industry. From 2017 to 2024, Smith allegedly created thousands of AI-generated songs, uploaded them under fake artist names, and hired contractors to run bot networks that streamed these songs on platforms like Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube. The result? More than a billion fake plays and over $10 million in royalties, according to federal prosecutors.
Smith has pleaded not guilty. But the story — pieced together from an indictment, former business partners, and years of shady dealings — paints a clear picture of how broken the system is.
This wasn’t some master hacker hiding in the shadows. Smith was a former medical clinic owner from North Carolina. He got into the music business in the 2010s, investing big money into a label called SMH Records. He funded reality shows, produced a track with Snoop Dogg, and appeared on BET’s One Shot as a judge alongside DJ Khaled and T.I. To the industry, he looked legitimate. Behind the scenes, it was a different story.
In 2018, Smith and a collaborator, Jonathan Hay, released a jazz album. It hit No. 1 on the Billboard chart — and then disappeared without a trace. No fanbase, no buzz, no chatter. Just a spike and then silence. Hay, who later turned whistleblower, started asking questions. He found listeners showing up in unlikely places like Vietnam. Then came takedown notices from distributors accusing them of streaming fraud. Smith blamed a clerical error. Hay didn’t buy it.
Years later, the FBI did.
Smith, according to the indictment, had teamed up with a startup CEO who fed him thousands of AI-generated songs each week. Smith uploaded them under bizarre artist names like “Calm Knuckles” and “Calorie Event.” Then he bought bot software and created thousands of streaming accounts to play those songs nonstop. The more plays, the more money. And it worked.
That’s what should worry everyone.
This wasn’t a loophole. It was a business model — one that exploited the core of how the modern music economy functions. Streaming platforms pay artists based on the number of times a song is played. It doesn’t matter who’s listening or why. And with AI making it cheap to generate thousands of tracks, and bots available for hire, the only thing stopping this kind of scheme is whether someone gets caught.
And most don’t. Experts say that 10 to 25 percent of all streams may be fraudulent. That’s billions of dollars potentially being siphoned away from real artists. Platforms like Spotify claim they’re fighting back. But when it takes seven years and a federal indictment to stop one person, that doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.
Smith didn’t invent this system. He just understood it better than the people running it. That’s what makes him, to some, a kind of folk antihero — a man who used machines to bleed a machine-dominated industry dry. Others call him what he is: a fraudster who built a fortune on fake art and empty signals.
But either way, the message is the same: if music is just content, and listeners are just metrics, then this won’t be the last scheme we see. It’ll be the blueprint.
Smith’s trial is coming. He faces up to 60 years in prison. But the real question is whether anything will change. Because the next Mike Smith is already out there. And he doesn’t need to break the rules. He just needs to follow the money.
Comments can be sent to imlisanenjamir@gmail.com
