Insight-driven growth for business and lifestyle

The festive season can bring out the worst in us.

And by “worst,” I mean spending like there’s no tomorrow.

I’ve just been reading Uber Eats’ annual Cravings Report for South Africa, and it’s eye-watering. Not just the volume of takeaways, but the sheer value of what people are ordering. One super-user reportedly spent about R465,000 in a single year, placing close to 2,800 orders — effectively treating Uber Eats like a daily utility rather than an occasional indulgence.

Then there are the one-off splurges. Alcohol dominated the top end of spending, with single orders including a premium bottle of tequila costing nearly R18,000, and another order stacking tequila with two bottles of whiskey at just under that amount. Delivered from a restaurant. Straight to the door. No raised eyebrows, no awkward wait at the counter — just tap, pay, indulge.

It’s not only the money that stands out, but the behaviour. More than a thousand users placed at least one order every single day of the year. Others showed almost monastic loyalty, hammering the same restaurant hundreds of times, or setting up standing weekly “date night” orders that ran for the entire year. Even the delivery notes tell a story: obsessive meal instructions repeated in ALL CAPS, and long, heartfelt love letters tucked into food orders around Valentine’s Day and birthdays. Takeaway, it seems, has become emotional, expressive — and very personal.

None of this is shocking, of course. December does strange things to rational adults. Extra gifts. Gifting ourselves. Restaurant meals. Lavish parties. A determined march down the bottle store aisle, aiming for the best liquor because, well, it’s Christmas.

And then reality intrudes at the worst possible time. Fuel prices tick up just as people are packing cars for road trips. Suddenly the holiday becomes a staycation. Plans are scaled back, visits postponed, calculators brought out. At close to R23 a litre in some areas, even a modest getaway starts to feel like a luxury purchase.

The financial experts — the people who watch this stuff — always warn that December and early January are where budgets go to die. What you splurge now has a nasty habit of turning January, and sometimes the rest of the year, into a slow crawl out of debt. As someone once put it: you don’t regret stocking firewood in summer — you regret not doing it when winter arrives. And winter, financial or otherwise, has a habit of arriving unannounced.

Still, nobody is suggesting you turn into Scrooge. We all know how that story ends — three ghosts and a complete personality reset. Spending a little makes life enjoyable and memorable. It’s been drilled into us for generations, and the commercial machine has only turned the volume up, starting with Black Friday and rolling straight through Christmas.

So enjoy the season. Within your means. Whatever your budget, do what tickles your fancy. Just remember: you’re the one in charge of the handbrake. You can tap it at any time. Because the only thing worse than an expensive December is spending the next twelve months paying for it.

And tequila, however premium, still tastes the same in January — only then it comes with a headache.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been deeply interested in how AI has developed this year. My main focus has been on using the various tools that are freely available. Yes, they come with limits, but even in their limited forms they give you remarkable capabilities. Most of us started with ChatGPT and were astonished by what it could do — the speed of its answers, the way it can write an email in seconds, or the sheer volume of text it can generate. And it isn’t just ChatGPT. The other platforms have impressed me as well: DeepSeek from China, which rattled the AI world, Google’s Gemini, X’s Grok, and Microsoft’s Copilot. Each has its place.

The news media spent the year warning about job losses. It’s the kind of story newspapers, magazines and social media thrive on — sweeping claims about the end of work as we know it. Some of these concerns may be justified, especially for mundane or repetitive tasks, and job loss is a real and painful issue for those affected. But this job-loss narrative isn’t going anywhere. It will follow us into 2026 and beyond.

What has amazed me, though, is the sheer thinking power of AI. It’s almost as if the developers anticipated every question a human might ask. One of the most valuable aspects for me has been AI’s ability to do analysis — even in my own private world. It can compare budgets, interpret quotes, analyse different medical insurance plans. In short, AI has helped me make better and smarter decisions than I ever could before. That, to me, is incredible.

If you use AI positively and deliberately, you can get extraordinary results. I do a lot of writing, and for this blog one has to be careful not to become lazy and let AI do the writing for you. That’s the path to what people now call “AI slop.” AI is tremendously helpful, but only when you bring your own research, your own thinking and your own words first. Tools like ChatGPT can smooth your writing, adjust tone, and help with structure — but if you want to continue sounding like a human being, you have to use them judiciously. In terms of writing support, ChatGPT and DeepSeek are among the best I’ve used.

The other day, another AI tool offered me a survey — a first for me. I answered all the questions, but I could see what was behind it: developers are now keenly interested in how people are using AI, what functions matter most, and how they can improve those tools. It’s no surprise then that Time Magazine chose the architects of AI as their Person of the Year in 2025. And when I visited the Time site, I discovered that Time now has its own AI too — one that will search its vast archive and answer questions.

I asked why they chose the AI architects as Person of the Year, and this was the explanation:

Time chose the “Architects of AI” because AI dominated 2025 — transforming industries, politics and everyday life — and the people who built these systems had the biggest impact on how the world changed. AI advanced at extraordinary speed, was adopted across medicine, science, business and consumer apps, and reshaped work and communication. A small group of leaders and companies drove massive investment and geopolitical competition, and the technology brought enormous promise alongside serious risks. Time framed it as a historic moment — an inflection point in technology.

And that’s really it: AI was the constant throughout 2025. It brought breakthroughs and will continue to bring more. I can’t help wondering whether we’re only scratching the surface. What it can already do is astonishing — but what might emerge in 2026 and beyond?

It’s an exciting time to be alive, with the first iterations of powerful AI now rolling out. If something can help you — whatever it is — and do so positively, then it’s worth exploring and integrating into your life.

People have been grumbling about the prices at certain fish-and-chip shops in a nearby coastal village. But as one wise pundit put it: go buy the hake yourself, fry the chips yourself — then come back and complain about paying almost R100 for the whole parcel.

Because yes, your rand will be fried to a crisp when you buy fish and chips these days.

Fish simply isn’t as abundant as it was 40 or 50 years ago. Add the health trend — people feel better about the “fish” part, which helps them justify the chips — and you get strong demand for something that’s no longer cheap to source.

I don’t have a favourite fish-and-chip shop because there are many, and my choice depends entirely on where I am and what my taste demands in the moment.

In Fish Hoek, the Pakistani-run fish shops offer reasonably priced (though not cheap) alternatives to the old stalwarts that have been around for donkey’s years.

The important thing is to avoid the tourist traps — Hout Bay and Simon’s Town being prime examples — unless you’ve got a wallet as long as an eel.

Kalk Bay Harbour has two fish and chip shops but people complain that the fish and chips from one of them is too oily. Yet, both places are usually full which means they must be doing something right.

Fish Hoek Fisheries is a convenient stop because you can eat your parcel on the beach or, on a cold and windy day, in your car.

One place that truly surprised me was Fish Hook in Darrenwood, Johannesburg. The original Chinese owner ran a tight ship, produced superb fish, and passed the shop on before moving to Canada. The new owners assured me nothing has changed — and the quality proves them right.

A Few Other Mentions:

These I can’t personally vouch for, but people speak well of them:

• Durban: The Fish Plaice

• Bloemfontein: Classic Fish and Chips

• Kimberley: Old Style Fish & Chips

And yes, we mustn’t forget Fishaways, which many swear by — though where I live now, there isn’t one in sight.

If you think fish and chips are expensive in South Africa, consider the UK:

£10–£12 is standard for cod or haddock and chips, and some London shops charge over £20. A typical portion in mid-2024 sat around £9.88 — more than 50% higher than in 2019. Energy prices, import costs, and inflation have all done their damage.

If you enjoy fish and chips — then treat yourself. It’s not an everyday meal for most people. Maybe once a week, if that.

But for the truly great experience, buy a good piece of fresh hake from a reputable fishmonger — Fish Hoek Fisheries, or Seven Seas in Johannesburg — fry it yourself, make your own chips, and enjoy the unbeatable taste of fresh, home-cooked fish and chips.

Truth be told, I haven’t been out doing much Christmas shopping — the flu has seen to that — so I’ve mostly avoided the usual festive soundtrack assault. I did hear something Christmassy in a store yesterday, but it was so forgettable it evaporated before I reached the car.

People are always in an uproar about Boney M, yet their songs march on, unstoppable. Like tinsel. Or fruitcake. Or those blow-up Santas that look exhausted by December 10th.

And the truth? On average, Boney M remains one of the most popular Christmas acts on earth.

If, for some unfortunate reason, you don’t hear Boney M in a mall, shopping centre, lift, petrol station, hair salon, or your neighbour’s bakkie… don’t despair.

Spotify has all of it — and it explodes every December like clockwork.

Despite the moans and groans from weary mall-walkers, Boney M’s Christmas catalogue is still massively popular. Well done to them. Longevity is not easy in the world of festive music.

As if you didn’t already know, here are the top three Boney M tracks you’ll probably hear before the 25th:

Top 3 Boney M Tracks (Dominantly Christmas)

1. “Mary’s Boy Child / Oh My Lord” – The undisputed leader.

2. “Rivers of Babylon” – Their non-Christmas mega-hit that refuses to die.

3. “Feliz Navidad” – Yes, it’s a cover of José Feliciano’s classic, and yes, it’s everywhere.

Beyond Boney M, the usual Christmas favourites are back — according to those who’ve actually been braving the shops:

• All I Want for Christmas Is You – Mariah Carey (no escape)

• Last Christmas – Wham!

• Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas – Chrissy Hynde & The Pretenders

And if you’re fortunate, you might even hear South African gems:

• “Somlandela” – DJ Tira, Sizwe, Xowla (the amapiano Christmas hit of the moment — and probably 2025 too)

• “Somerkersfees” (Summer Christmas): composed by South African musician Koos du Plessis.

If you’re in the mood for something from the British archives, give these a listen:

Slade – “Merry Xmas Everybody” and Wizzard – “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday.”

(How these never took over SA malls, I’ll never know.)

And of course, for those who want something a little more reflective:

“Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” — John Lennon, Yoko Ono & The Plastic Ono Band.

Whatever you find listenable this Christmas — whether it jingles, croons, booms, or simply reminds you of better times — just play it. It’s Christmas, for goodness sake. Enjoy yourself. Despite everything happening in your life and the world, it’s still a moment worth celebrating.

A wave forms far out, gathers itself, rushes towards the sandy beach, curls, and rumbles into shore. It’s wonderful watching waves. They’re beautiful — each one different, each one with a short, fleeting lifespan. They remind us of the shortness of everything: a moment, a day, a week, a month, a year… our lives.

We were all getting ready for Christmas this time last year, and suddenly we’re doing it again. Where did all the time go? How time flies.

What will you enjoy over this relaxing period?

Down at the Braamfontein Spruit in Randburg, people will be enjoying a lovely lunch in the Highveld sun — unless, of course, it’s one of those rainy, stormy Highveld summer days that come out of nowhere.

Talking about enjoyment, I see people want to unwind more and avoid being reminded of how tough the year has been, especially with the economic strain most households are feeling. A BBC article noted how advertisers are leaning into this — showing viewers themselves, but not in overly fanciful ways.

I also see Dame Helen Mirren saying she would love to have her late mother’s old sewing machine repaired — a small but heartfelt wish she shared on The Repair Shop ahead of its Christmas special.

One of the things I love to see at this time of year is the generosity of spirit people show. It reminds me of an older time when people were honest, when neighbourliness and community spirit were real — not manufactured in workshops sponsored by local governments and consultants.

A few decades back, when a carvery meal at the Park Lane was under ten rand, we still had that sense of community in Hillbrow. And now, interestingly, the UK is seeing something similar again with the rise of honesty boxes.

Across rural regions — North Yorkshire, Shropshire and others — honesty boxes are becoming more popular. They rely entirely on the honour system: you take the farm eggs or fresh produce or baked goods, and you leave the correct amount of money. Simple as that. Some pub owners see them as a sign that community values are quietly strengthening again.

Australia has been doing this for years, of course — roadside stalls with fruit, vegetables, and handmade goods, all paid for by trust. No cameras. No fuss. Just goodwill.

Before we know it, this time — this special time of the year — will be over again. Enjoy it while we have it.

People are splashing out. Now until January, the spending is wild. And honestly — where does all the money come from?

Most people live on a monthly income. Most people are one bad month away from debt.

Many are already in debt, but still they keep going, spending as if the prices of everything haven’t shot through the ceiling this year.

This is the time of year when people fall into holes. Johannesburg might have 500,000 potholes, but there are another 500,000 ways to lose your money.

From now until January, the question is simple: will you survive, or will you end up bent over with your hands on your knees, begging a debt counsellor to save you?

Spending, for most of us, is emotional.

“Oh, wouldn’t it be lovely to buy them that gift?”

“Oh, they’ve always wanted that.”

And then the classic internal monologue:

I need this.

I deserve this.

There are about 10 perfectly valid reasons to buy this thing immediately.

And off you go — straight into your very own financial pothole.

But here’s the reality: by the end of January, or even before, you’re going to feel it — that awful month where you have to cut back on nearly everything just to make it through.

We’ve all lived through one of those. Someone once told me that when they bought their first house, the bond was so high they lived on pilchards and baked beans.

Well, pilchards and baked beans aren’t cheap anymore. Neither is peanut butter.

So what do you do?

You start where the real leaks are: daily spending. Small shifts, no drama. Make food at home. Choose store brands. Stop impulse buying. Audit the silent killers — the unused subscriptions and forgotten memberships. A few hundred rand here, a few hundred there, quietly vanishing every month. A simple rule like waiting 48 hours before any non-essential purchase can save you from yourself.

Then look at the bigger anchors: your fixed costs.

Utilities. Internet. Mobile. Insurance.

These things feel set in stone, but they aren’t. Negotiate. Fix the dripping tap. Reduce energy use. Combine errands. Keep your tyres pumped. Shop around for insurance every year. Optimise what you can — you’d be amazed at what that frees up.

The truth is, sustainable budgeting isn’t punishment. It’s awareness.

Track your spending for just one month and suddenly everything snaps into focus. You see where your money actually goes versus where you thought it went. Then you can line it all up with your priorities — using something simple like the 50/30/20 rule (a guideline that allocates 50% of your after-tax income to needs, 30% to wants, and 20% to savings and debt repayment) — and redirect the excess toward something real: savings, debt reduction, or simply a January that doesn’t feel like penance for your extravagance.

Perhaps we can look to other nationalities for inspiration about frugality beyond the famous Scottish stereotype.

While Scots are historically linked to thrift, cultures like the Swiss and Germans embody deep financial prudence, with a strong saving ethic and an aversion to debt encapsulated in the German ideal of Sparsamkeit.

The Dutch demonstrate practical, no-frills living rooted in Calvinist modesty, perfectly captured by their value for goedkoop — seeking what is sensibly cheap without sacrificing quality.

Meanwhile, the Japanese practise meticulous budgeting and waste avoidance, many Chinese households prioritise high savings for family security, and Scandinavians embrace lagom — the art of “just enough” — focusing on moderation and conscious consumption.

Each offers a unique perspective on valuing resources, proving that thoughtful stewardship of money is a virtue celebrated worldwide in different, yet equally impactful, forms.

I saw a man in a Checkers supermarket buy an air fryer for Christmas. He was delighted. He was a middle-aged man, grinning from ear to ear. Whether he was going to use it himself, or he’d bought this Philips air fryer for someone else while the specials were running hot, I have no idea.

What sort of Christmas gifts are people choosing in 2025?

Yes, times have been tight. Yes, people are watching their cents. But South Africans still splash out — even if it’s only small token gifts — because Christmas is less about price tags and more about the feeling: generosity, warmth, and a small bit of spoiling. Sometimes even gifts for strangers: a cold drink or a snack for the guy at the robots, a small parcel given quietly to the lady pushing the trolley of scrap metal down the road.

So what are people wrapping up this year?

The stuff flying off the shelves is mostly practical. Things that actually get used every day and save money or hassle.

Air fryers are still everywhere — you can’t walk through the appliance aisle without seeing someone wheeling one to the till.

Rechargeable power banks are another quiet bestseller; loadshedding might be better than it was, but nobody’s forgotten how it feels to sit in the dark. Some people want robot vacuums.

And for the big spenders, it’s a smartwatch or one of the new Samsung S25 phones — something that feels like an investment rather than a luxury.

There’s also a bit more playfulness creeping in this year. The Nintendo Switch 2 is impossible to find unless you queued online at midnight. The weird collectible plush toys — Fugglers and those ugly-cute things — are selling out faster than the shops can restock them. Even adults are buying the LEGO flower sets and pretending they’re “just for the coffee table”.

Then there’s the local stuff. More people than usual seem to be skipping the chain stores and going straight to the markets or the small Instagram shops.

Handmade leather wallets, proper coffee roasted in Joburg or Cape Town, skincare made in someone’s kitchen in Pretoria, Shweshwe cushion covers, beaded earrings, woven baskets from rural co-ops.

It feels deliberate: if money is going to leave my pocket, I’d rather it lands with someone I could bump into at the petrol station.

And finally, the gifts that cost almost nothing but land the hardest: the homemade ones. Jars of jam or chilli sauce with a handwritten label. A tin of fudge tied with string. Fresh mince pies still warm when you hand them over. Rusks that taste like your gran’s. Koeksisters that drip syrup on the car seat on the way home. Little stitched potholders, knitted dishcloths, tiny beaded angels for the tree.

In a year when every rand has had to fight for its life, these are the things people are choosing to give. And somehow that feels exactly right.

I was reading a piece in the New York Daily News—that legendary newspaper where Pete Hamill once worked—and I stumbled onto an article listing the Top 25 Songs of 2025. Big, glossy names. Lots of neon. Plenty of tracks I’ve never heard in my life.

It got me thinking: what would your top 25 be?

Because if I’m being honest, I can’t think of a single 2025 song that knocked me sideways this year. Not one.

I did come across some incredible music in 2025, but most of it wasn’t from 2025 at all. It was the usual thing—I drifted back into hard rock, blues, a bit of metal, and then suddenly I was knee-deep in older albums again. That’s the joy of heavy music: the shelf life is eternal. You can listen to something recorded in a garage in 1987 and it still hits harder than most of what’s charting.

There were a couple of new tracks that caught my ear…

but don’t ask me what they were called—I couldn’t tell you if my wifi depended on it.

Meanwhile, bands like The Fixx are still out there, touring and re-releasing classics. Their Phantoms expanded edition came out this year, which I promptly listened to instead of discovering anything new. So yes, guilty as charged.

But if you did want new heavy music in 2025, there was a mountain of it. Almost too much. Here’s just a slice of the chaos:

• Deftones announced a new album.

• Messa dropped The Spin.

• Deafheaven released Lonely People With Power.

• Cradle of Filth unleashed The Screaming of the Valkyries.

• Converge announced Love Is Not Enough.

• Lynch Mob gave us Dancing With The Devil.

• Vicious Rumors delivered The Devil’s Asylum.

• And Melvins 1983 continued doing Melvins things with Thunderball.

Black metal, doom, hardcore, post-metal, alternative—you practically needed a personal assistant just to keep up.

But if your ears live here in South Africa, 2025 sounded very different.

South Africa in 2025: A Musical Free-For-All

Amapiano is still the country’s oxygen supply, and the streaming charts prove it. Tyla continues her global steamroll, DJ Maphorisa and Kabza De Small dominate everything they touch, and the cross-continental collaborations get wilder by the month.

A quick snapshot of the year:

Pop / Amapiano / Global SA

• Tyla dropped “Butterflies” and “Truth or Dare,” paving the runway for her massive debut album.

• Elaine’s Fire & Ice kept burning into 2025 with tracks like “Serenity.”

• Kamo Mphela + Ayra Starr produced “Energy,” probably the most addictive popiano moment of the year.

• Newcomers like Mylo Radebe (Growing Pains) and Gemma Fassie (“Plastic Roses”) brought something fresh to the scene.

Rock (Yes, we still have it!)

• Fokofpolisiekar surprised everyone with Kouevuur, darker and more experimental.

• Bye Beneco stayed on playlists with “Head Noise.”

• The Tazers put out “Static Mind.”

• The Homesick Blues and Sweeter Than Sorrow led the new introspective wave.

Blues, Soul & The Good Stuff

• Dan Patlansky continued his national guitar pilgrimage.

• Shane Durrant ditched indie rock for a raw blues turn with “Broke Down Engine.”

• The Muffinz kept their 2024 album Ikwane alive well into the new year.

And if we zoom out further—Spotify confirms that amapiano is South Africa’s major export of 2025. The most-streamed South African tracks globally? Mostly Tyla, Maphorisa, Musa Keys, and that new wave of 3-step and hybrid genres that only South Africans seem able to invent before breakfast.

Which Brings Me Back to the Original Question…

With all this noise—international charts, local charts, heavy rock releases, amapiano dominance—what were your actual favourite songs of 2025?

Here’s a link to that 25 of 2025 songs from the New York daily News:

https://www.nydailynews.com/2025/12/05/25-best-songs/

Yes, Spotify is now available everywhere – at home, braais, in homes, cars, all over the place. It’s become so popular that you can’t escape it. But if you’re a non-subscriber, a free-tier peasant like me half the time, you’ve got problems. Terrible advertisements every three songs and that squeaky woman’s voice telling you to subscribe – all deliberate ploys to make you so sick and tired of those announcements that you finally cough up the monthly ransom.

And if you’re not paying? Good luck trying to listen to a playlist from A to Z. Everything is jumbled up on purpose. You want to hear an album in order on your phone? Tough. Shuffle only, my friend. This is the reality.

It feels like Spotify is dominating the music industry completely. But you know, technology changes. Let’s think about those of us who started out listening to seven singles and LPs. Then compact discs came and wiped those out. Then the iPod arrived and made CDs look clumsy. And then, as the internet got faster, there was that short, glorious period where pirating music was everywhere. Some of us old pirates still remember the days of MP3skull – you’d wait until midnight when the internet was cheaper, download all night, and feel like a proper criminal. But everything tightened up. Napster disappeared overnight, LimeWire got sued into dust, and suddenly piracy became taboo. You can’t even find a decent pirate site anymore without fifty pop-ups and malware.

And rightly so, I suppose – commercialization of music still stands supreme.

Spotify brought a lot of music to a lot of people, but the complaints never stop. The ads, the shuffle punishment, the feeling that you’re being nickel-and-dimed for something that used to be simple.

The big question I keep asking myself is this: is there some new technology coming that will finally knock Spotify off its throne?

People keep talking about AI-generated music as the next revolution. You see these AI “bands” like Velvet Sundown racking up a million streams, and apps like Suno where you type a sentence and out pops a whole song. But here’s the thing – it’s still an app. You still have to open something, log in, press play. There’s still no truly free music unless you switch on the radio, and let’s be honest, FM playlists these days are abysmal. And don’t even start me on community radio stations – those naive, untrained presenters laughing at their own jokes, trying to teach us about blues and rock when they’ve clearly never been in a band in their lives. It’s so painfully cringe that you’d rather drive in silence.

These days the best thing is still a stack of old CDs. I picked up a mint-condition double Enya album at a charity shop yesterday for five rand. Five rand! I took it home, shoved it in the CD player, and listened to the whole thing without a single ad, without shuffle, without some squeaky voice begging for my credit card. Pure bliss.

So here’s my theory: someone, somewhere, is always going to get paid – whether the music is made by humans or by robots. AI might help write the songs, but it’s still manufactured, still controlled, still locked inside some company’s ecosystem. Royalties might drop a bit for AI tracks, but I can’t see them disappearing completely. We will always be in the stronghold of some technology we have no control over.

But don’t just take my word for it. The internet is screaming the same frustrations louder than I ever could.

A few voices from the wilderness:

• “Spotify’s free tier isn’t free – it’s psychological torture with ads. Same five tracks on repeat and that woman’s voice every ten minutes. I’d rather listen to silence.”
• “Shuffle on mobile for non-premium users is straight-up sabotage. My 800-song playlist plays the same twenty tracks on loop. It’s not random, it’s punishment.”
• “Artists get paid peanuts. My band made R300 from 120 000 streams last quarter. Spotify keeps the rest and tells us to be grateful for ‘exposure’.”
• “Every update makes the app worse. Now it hides your library behind seventeen menus and forces podcasts down your throat. I just want to play an album in order, is that too much to ask?”

And on the AI music front, the complaints are even spicier:

• “AI songs sound good for fifteen seconds, then you realise there’s no soul, no story, no point. Just expensive karaoke made by a computer.”
• “It’s all stolen anyway – trained on real artists’ work without permission, then sold back to us as ‘the future’. Pure theft dressed in shiny tech.”
• “Give it a year and Spotify will be 70 % AI slop that nobody asked for, just like YouTube is 70 % AI thumbnails now. Music is becoming wallpaper.”

Some of those voices agree with me, some think I’m an old dinosaur clutching my five-rand Enya CDs. Doesn’t matter. They’re real people feeling the same itch I feel: something is shifting again, and we don’t quite know what’s coming next.

Maybe the AI robots will win. Maybe Spotify will swallow AI whole and keep ruling. Or maybe, one day, some kid in a garage will build the next Napster-for-the-AI-age and the whole castle will come tumbling down again.

All I know is I’m keeping my CD player plugged in… just in case.

What do you think – will Spotify still be king in 2030, or are we all going to be listening to robot composers whispering sweet nothings directly into our ears?

Drop your thoughts below. I’m especially curious what the free-tier sufferers and the charity-shop raiders have to say.

Until then, I’ll be here with my five-rand Enya, no ads, no shuffle, no squeaky voice telling me to upgrade.

Pure peace.

The commercialization of FM radio has dragged us into a dull, predictable landscape with very little real listening appeal. Last night I scanned stations across the country, hoping for a spark of something interesting. Instead? A string of disappointments. One station in the middle of the country seemed to have given up entirely on programming and simply ran advertisement after advertisement, as if ads were the main event.

And then there are the stations you learn to avoid. My local one is a prime example. For three evenings in a row — from six to nine — the very same presenter dominates the airwaves. She comments after every song, giggles at her own remarks, and tries to “educate” listeners about blues and other genres with knowledge that could fit on the back of a coaster. It’s irritating. Surely the programme manager could rotate presenters or bring in some new talent. Let her have the Monday slot and give the other evenings to fresh voices or different genres. But no — it’s wall-to-wall her, and after a while, you just switch off. Literally.

That’s the broader problem with FM radio: sameness, safety, and stale programming. There are stations that provide an oldies escape — LM Radio comes to mind — but even that grows monotonous after a while. And so the big plus today is Radio Garden, where you can roam the world and find gems. But even then, it’s a remote substitute for the enjoyment of a good, vibrant local station.

Once upon a time we had them. Smaller community-based stations in South Africa catered to real interests and offered thoughtful programming. Radio Today in Johannesburg, for instance. Mix FM used to be a great station too — until greed set in, as it so often does, and the great station it was just two years ago vanished under new ownership. Topsy-turvy doesn’t even begin to cover it.

What’s bewildering is how old this complaint actually is. John D. MacDonald was already grumbling about the decline of FM radio in 1968/69. In Pale Gray for Guilt, his character Travis McGee goes hunting for decent FM programming and despairs at how the original niche, thoughtful broadcasts had been replaced by commercial sludge aimed at teenagers. Even then, he saw that FM was becoming a victim of its own success.

South Africa had its chance when more licences became available — a moment to build a diverse, lively FM culture. But so much of that opportunity has been wasted.

That’s not to say everything on FM is terrible. There are pockets of brilliance — you just have to hunt for them. On a Monday evening, Etienne Ludik’s rock show on RSG is superb. Algoa FM can surprise you with great tracks while driving through the Karoo. And on Friday nights, you can tune in to Knysna FM for what may well be the greatest rock show on Earth: The Chris Prior Show.

But finding all this requires effort. And that’s the pity. FM radio could be vibrant, surprising, and worth tuning into every evening. Instead, for the most part, it’s become background noise — or worse, something you actively avoid.