Pop culture has changed drastically over the years. Many argue that the era of monoculture—when people shared the same cultural experiences, listened to the same songs, watched the same shows, and followed the same celebrities—is behind us. Audiences are now scattered across various playlists, social media platforms, and niche subcultures. Some claim that, because of this fragmentation, a single song can no longer be universal or unify a broad audience as it might have in the past. This makes activism in music less culturally resonant than in previous decades.
Yet despite this fragmentation, music has long been—and continues to be—a vehicle for resistance and social change. Through powerful lyrics and rhythmic sounds, music transcends our ever-changing culture and permeates our daily lives. In recent years, many artists have taken their activism one step further: Using music as a form of advocacy and protest. King Krule, alongside Brian Eno and Damon Albarn, played a show in London, Together for Palestine, last November, which raised money to send aid into Gaza. In January 2024, Sudanese singer and poet Mustafa organized the Artists for Aid benefit, with all funds going to the organization Human Concern International, to raise money for food and medical distribution in Gaza, as well as Port Sudan, which is undergoing a genocide resulting in the most devastating humanitarian crisis in the world. Well-known singers such as Clairo and Faye Webster participated in the show. These acts demonstrate that culture can operate as a tool for resistance, even when audiences are diverse and fragmented.
In a monocultural era, mass media coverage is what sparks widespread public engagement. However, today, activism in music adapts to this decentralized media ecosystem. Lorde, Japanese Breakfast, Björk, and Massive Attack are a few among hundreds of artists who have participated in a boycott against Israel’s genocide in Gaza by banning their music on Israeli streaming services, as part of the No Music for Genocide movement. Not only do such movements aid in denormalizing genocide on a cultural level, but they also aim to influence the music industry to end its complicity in the genocide. The movement claims that even though countries like the United States are also complicit, boycotting Israel holds a specific weight: It encourages social and cultural dissent, fighting against dominant government narratives, while reflecting Palestinian calls to boycott Israel completely.
Music videos also allow artists to position themselves as activists. Though not a recent development, in an era where censorship is prevalent and dissent is stigmatized, artists continue to embed activism in visual form. In her single “Next 2 U,” American singer Kehlani has background dancers performing with Palestinian flags and wearing suits styled with keffiyehs. Her music video also opens with a quote from the Palestinian poet Hala Alyan: “Keep your moon / We have our own / Keep your army / We have our name / Keep your flag / We have fruit and in / All the right colours.” Symbolic gestures as these show that solidarity through art carries tangible weight.
Musicians worldwide have taken a stand against the genocide in subtle but vital ways, going beyond social media advocacy. While using music as a tool for activism may seem futile, solidarity in the arts is an overlooked yet crucial aspect of social change. Not only do boycotts like No Music for Genocide symbolically reject the normalization of Israel, but they also pressure the music industry to sever economic ties with Israel. These acts demonstrate that advocacy is not limited to marches, petitions, or divestment campaigns; culture, including music, carries political weight.
In a world without monoculture, it may seem harder than ever for artists to influence broad audiences. Yet the recent activism surrounding Gaza and other humanitarian causes, such as Sudan, demonstrates that powerful messages can still reach listeners. Advocacy extends beyond the overtly political, and culture is a powerful tool in shifting public opinion and (de)normalization.





