So, the Czech ice dancers are back in the news, and once again, it’s not just about their twizzles or step sequences—it’s about their music. Remember that whole saga with their AI-generated “90s-style” track that sounded a little *too much* like New Radicals’ “You Get What You Give”? Yeah, that was a mess. Now, they’ve swapped it out for another AI-made track, and honestly, this whole situation is becoming the most fascinating subplot of the figure skating season.
Let’s be real: using AI to create a custom competition piece is a bold, modern move. In a sport where music choice is everything—setting the mood, highlighting artistry, and pleasing both judges and fans—turning to an algorithm for a unique sound is innovative. The idea was clever: capture the nostalgic, upbeat vibe of 90s pop without directly using a well-known hit, thus avoiding licensing issues and standing out. In theory, genius.
But here’s where it all went sideways. The first track didn’t just *evoke* 90s nostalgia; it practically photocopied a specific, beloved anthem. The moment listeners heard it, the comparisons to New Radicals exploded online. It wasn’t inspiration; it was imitation. And not even imitation by a human composer who might tweak and adjust—this was imitation by an AI trained on existing music, which apparently took its “inspiration” a bit too literally.
Now they’ve rolled out a replacement, another AI-generated piece. The big question on everyone’s mind: Is this one truly original, or are we just waiting for another fan-favorite 90s track to emerge from the digital fog?
This situation highlights the double-edged sword of AI in creative fields. On one hand, it’s a powerful tool for generating ideas and overcoming obstacles like copyright. On the other, it lacks the nuanced understanding and intentionality of a human artist. An AI doesn’t *know* what plagiarism is; it knows patterns. It can’t walk the fine line between homage and theft because it doesn’t comprehend the line exists.
For the athletes, my heart goes out to them. They’re not programmers or music theorists; they’re dancers who trusted a novel process to solve a practical problem. Now, their preparation is overshadowed by a debate about technology and originality. Their focus should be on their performance, not on public scrutiny over their backing track.
Ultimately, this saga is a cautionary tale for all performing arts. As we rush to embrace AI for its efficiency and novelty, we must ask: At what cost? Uniqueness, authenticity, and legal safety seem to be the first casualties. The Czech team’s revised program will be under a microscope, not just for its technical merit but as a test case for AI’s role in sport and art.
I’ll be watching their next performance with keen interest. Not just for the lifts and spins, but to hear if the algorithm finally learned its lesson—or if the 90s have come back to haunt us once more.
