Don't let people take it away from you, especially AI
At London's Grosvenor House on Thursday, the Ivor Novello Awards gathered the music world not merely to celebrate its finest songwriters, but to quietly ask whether human creativity still holds its ground. Sam Fender, Rosalía, and Jacob Alon were honoured for work rooted in lived experience and cultural specificity — the very qualities that resist imitation. With Sir Elton John named the Ivors Academy's first-ever president and his warning about artificial intelligence echoing through the room, the evening became something larger than an awards ceremony: a collective act of claiming authorship over the human soul.
- Artificial intelligence loomed over the entire ceremony as an unspoken antagonist, until Elton John named it directly — warning musicians not to let anyone, especially AI, take their work from them.
- Rosalía's acceptance speech cracked open a deeper tension, calling out the structural invisibility of writers who fall outside the default mould of middle-class white European privilege.
- The posthumous Academy Fellowship for George Michael and a living honour for Thom Yorke reminded the room that songwriting is a form of soul-documentation that outlasts the body and the moment.
- Sam Fender, Rosalía, Jacob Alon, Lily Allen, Kano, Calvin Harris, and CMAT each represented a different corner of British and international music, painting a deliberately wide picture of who the craft belongs to.
- The appointment of Elton John as the academy's first president reframed the night from celebration to succession — a passing of responsibility to defend songwriting in an era that threatens to commodify it entirely.
The Ivor Novello Awards at London's Grosvenor House on Thursday night was as much a reckoning as a celebration. As the music industry gathered to honour its finest writers and composers, one question kept surfacing: what does human creativity mean in an age of artificial intelligence?
Sam Fender, whose socially sharp and emotionally honest songwriting has made him a defining voice in contemporary British music, won songwriter of the year. Catalan artist Rosalía received the inaugural international songwriter of the year award for her album Lux, which bent genre and blended languages in ways that pushed experimental pop into new territory. Scottish alt-folk singer Jacob Alon took best song musically and lyrically for Don't Fall Fall Asleep.
The evening's most consequential moment came with the announcement of Sir Elton John as the Ivors Academy's first-ever president — a role that will see him represent music creators globally. When Lola Young, whose track Messy was named the most performed work of the year, presented him with the special honour, the gesture felt less like nostalgia and more like a deliberate act of succession. John's message to the room was direct: their work came from their souls, and they should not let anyone — especially AI — take it from them.
Rosalía used her speech to name something the industry rarely confronts openly: that countless outstanding writers remain invisible because they lack the inherited advantages of class, race, and geography that the industry has long rewarded by default.
George Michael received the Academy Fellowship posthumously, with Andrew Ridgeley collecting the award and describing his bandmate's songwriting as the window to his soul. Thom Yorke received the same honour, presented by Harry Styles. Calvin Harris was named music icon, Lily Allen received the outstanding song collection award for a catalogue stretching from Smile to West End Girl, Kano was given the visionary award by collaborator Dave, and Irish Euro-Country singer CMAT won best album.
What the evening ultimately revealed was an industry conscious of its own vulnerability — and determined, at least for one night, to insist that the craft of songwriting is not a product to be automated, but a form of human resistance worth defending.
The Ivor Novello Awards ceremony at London's Grosvenor House on Thursday night was a celebration of songwriting craft, but it was also a night for reckoning. As the music industry gathered to honour its best writers and composers, the conversation kept circling back to a single threat: artificial intelligence and what it means for human creativity.
Sam Fender, the Geordie singer whose albums People Watching and Seventeen Going Under have made him one of the defining voices in contemporary British music, took home songwriter of the year. The Academy praised his sharp social commentary and emotionally honest approach to storytelling—the kind of work that feels rooted in lived experience, not algorithm. Across the Atlantic, Catalan artist Rosalía received the inaugural international songwriter of the year award, recognition for an album called Lux that bent genre conventions and blended languages in ways that pushed experimental pop into new territory. Jacob Alon, a Scottish alt-folk singer, won best song musically and lyrically for Don't Fall Fall Asleep, beating out Self Esteem and Wolf Alice.
But the night's most significant announcement came when Sir Elton John was named the Ivors Academy's first-ever president. The honour recognised decades of championing songwriters and composers, and his new role will see him represent a global community of music creators. When Lola Young presented him with the special honour—her own track Messy had been marked as the most performed work of the year—the moment carried weight. This was not merely nostalgia. This was succession.
Rosalía used her acceptance speech to address something the industry has long struggled to acknowledge. She spoke directly about whose voices get recognised and whose don't, pointing out that countless outstanding writers remain invisible because they aren't middle-class white Europeans with stable upbringing and inherited advantage. The observation hung in the room like a question the Ivors themselves would need to answer.
Elton John's message to the audience was simpler and more urgent. He told musicians that their work belongs to them—it came from their soul, it means everything to them. And then he added a warning: "Don't let people take it away from you, especially AI." It was a moment that crystallised what many in the room were thinking but hadn't yet said aloud. The threat isn't abstract. It's here.
The night also honoured the dead and the living. George Michael, who died a decade ago, was awarded the Academy Fellowship—the highest accolade, recognising excellence and impact in music creation. His Wham! bandmate Andrew Ridgeley collected the award, noting that Michael's songwriting was the window to his soul, the thing that distinguished him more than anything else. Thom Yorke of Radiohead received the same honour, with Harry Styles presenting the award and later revealing, to much laughter, that he had lost his virginity to the intro of Yorke's track Talk Show Host.
Calvin Harris, the Scottish DJ and producer, was named music icon for shaping the sound of contemporary dance and pop over two decades. Lily Allen, who returned last year with her breakup record West End Girl to widespread acclaim, received the outstanding song collection award, recognition for a catalogue including Smile and LDN that has left lasting marks on British pop culture. Kano, the UK rapper and grime pioneer, was given the visionary award for his impact on British music and culture, presented by his collaborator and Top Boy co-star Dave. CMAT, an Irish Euro-Country singer, won best album and joked that it was nice to finally win an award in England.
What emerged across the evening was a picture of an industry aware of its own fragility. The Ivor Novellos exist precisely because songwriting matters—because the craft of composition, the skill of arrangement, the discipline of melody and lyric deserve recognition separate from commercial success or streaming numbers. In a moment when artificial intelligence can generate music in seconds, that distinction feels less like tradition and more like resistance.
Citações Notáveis
Countless outstanding writers will not be recognised as they deserve because they aren't middle-class white Europeans whose upbringing has been sufficiently stable for them to turn a hint of talent into a successful career.— Rosalía, accepting international songwriter of the year
No matter what kind of music you write, it's yours, you own it. It came from your soul. Don't let people take it away from you, especially AI.— Elton John, addressing the audience
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does an award ceremony for songwriting feel urgent right now, in a way it might not have five years ago?
Because the threat to songwriting as a human craft has moved from theoretical to immediate. When Elton John tells musicians not to let AI take their work away, he's not being paranoid—he's speaking from experience watching an industry transform. The Ivors exist to say that songwriting is a skill, a discipline, something that comes from a person's soul. AI challenges that entire premise.
Rosalía's speech about whose voices get recognised—that felt like she was calling out the Academy itself, didn't it?
Not calling them out so much as naming something they've probably always known but haven't had to confront directly. She's saying the awards reflect who has access, who has stability, who has the luxury of developing talent into a career. That's a structural problem, not a moral failing. But once you name it, you can't unknow it.
What does it mean that Elton John is now president? Is that symbolic or does it change anything?
It's both. Symbolically, it says the Academy values someone who has spent his entire career fighting for songwriters' rights and recognition. Practically, he has the platform and the credibility to push back against AI in ways a younger president might not. He's not going to be intimidated by tech companies.
The Harry Styles moment with Thom Yorke—was that just a funny bit, or does it say something?
It says that even in a room full of serious musicians discussing serious threats, there's still joy in the work. Styles admitting he lost his virginity to Talk Show Host is funny because it's true for probably thousands of people. That's what songwriting does. It becomes part of your life. AI can't replicate that.
Why does it matter that George Michael got the Fellowship ten years after his death?
Because it says the Academy recognises that some artists transcend their moment. Michael's songwriting was the window to his soul—that's what his bandmate said. That's not something that gets old or becomes irrelevant. It's the opposite of what AI produces, which is content designed to be consumed and forgotten.