Category: Tech (page 1 of 1)

Leslie Jones and Sparky, the Los Angeles Sparks' mascot, are singing courtside at Crypto.com Arena with each other.

May 23, 2025 / 2 Comments

Loving the WNBA in a Season of Change

How can I follow the WNBA without being online? There must be a way because being online with the WNBA makes me want to drown myself. I hate all of you! And the biggest reason I can’t stand online WNBA discourse: it’s hardly ever about basketball.

Bomani Jones

Women’s basketball is on the rise. Many more people are watching at all levels. The players are securing the type of fame and notoriety that they have long deserved. Money is pouring in through exposure and expansion, and the paydays will soon follow.

But alongside the good tidings has come a growing fanbase, some of whom seem disinterested in respecting the WNBA’s culture, vibe, or history. All the things that I have cherished over 11 summers as a season ticket holder with the Los Angeles Sparks and cultivated as a fan of these athletes since before the league began.

I attended SXSW religiously between 2005 and 2011. In ‘05, the tech part of the festival was mostly a sideshow to the main event film + music tracks. Tech was active but quaint. There was little fanfare and a lot of camaraderie. It felt like we were all in on a secret: the internet was cool. By 2010, the event had grown so big that I half-jokingly said there were enough other black folks in attendance that I could afford not to like some of them. By 2011, I felt like an outsider and decided it would be my last.

A week before the 2025 WNBA season started, I worried that this summer might mirror my separation from SXSW.

“This might be the summer where we start losing the magic,” I said in the group chat.

The online discourse was overwhelmingly driving that feeling of dread. After months of quiet, the battle lines reappeared in the culture war over Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese—stans vs. fans, bluster vs. reason, aggression vs. inclusion. The tribalism that is a hallmark of college basketball fandom was rearing its ugly head during the draft and training camp as social media stans caped for their school’s players and jumped in the mentions of any person who dared critique them. Wannabe basketball influencers delivered hot takes in bad faith, seeking attention and engagement.

A play caught my attention while watching the opening weekend matchup of the Chicago Sky at the Indiana Fever with the sound off. I commented about it on Threads: an off-the-cuff observation that in most basketball conversations would be pretty milquetoast. It happened to be about Angel Reese in reaction to a hard foul from Caitlin Clark, though, and it brought to my doorstep the exact kind of interactions I don’t want to be having around this sport I love.

The home opener for the Sparks was the next day, and I was anxious like a kid on the first day of school. I often say that Crypto.com Arena has long felt like church. I go there to find fellowship, community, and to feel the spirit. Well, my spirit, at least. Even when we lose, those three hours are my respite. But this summer, there were changes afoot: our long-time in-arena host is with the expansion Golden State Valkyries; our long-time account reps had been replaced; there had been little communication from the organization about what to expect.

I need not have worried, though. While some things had changed, the good vibes were in plentiful supply. Familiar faces greeted us everywhere, and friends new and old were all around us. Neither the bad actors present in Indy the previous day nor the ever-present online drama followed us into my sacred place.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my relationship with social media recently. The telltale signs that I need a break from the apps are here: increased time spent, decreased satisfaction with the experience, doomscrolling, and fomo. Despite my frustration with some interactions, discussing the W online is still one of the best parts of today’s internet.

Unlike Bomani, I don’t hate this community. He must not run in the same circles I do because I still make meaningful connections with WNBA fans via online social spaces. I find plenty of folks who want to talk basketball. On a different episode of Jones’s podcast, Elle Duncan compared WNBA fans to NBA Twitter—caring and communicating about the whole culture of the sport from the games and its stars to fashion, jokes, memes, themes, and even the playful pettiness of fandom. All that is still here if you know where to look and who to give your time to. The rhythm, hustle, flow, and beauty of the W are also represented by its very online community. It might be dispersed across many networks but hasn’t gone anywhere.

Just because the barbarians have broken through the gate, that doesn’t mean we have to cede our ground. I walked away from SXSW, but I’m not giving up on the WNBA. It’s my home. It’s our house.

There’s too much magic amongst the mess. There’s too much love in the game.

Seasons change, we remain.

December 5, 2024 / 2 Comments

Spotify Wrapped 2024: Not Handled with Care

Dr. Georgie Carroll, an Australian fan Engagement Expert, wrote on LinkedIn yesterday that “Spotify Wrapped learned a hard lesson today: data isn’t enough.”

Indeed. The true value of data lies in the connections we find and the stories we tell. In the past, Spotify’s human curators would weave these narratives, aligning the recap with the cultural and musical zeitgeist, rather than just showcasing the Company’s technological prowess.

For example, using the Musical Evolution Cards as a starting point, I delved into my journals, my last.fm profile, and my memories to piece together a narrative that was more than just a jumble of words and AI-generated podcasts.

I’m a fan of NotebookLM and its potential as a research tool, but the podcast creation here was nothing more than a parlor trick. Until AI can approximate a lived experience that reflects and remixes what it has learned about me and finds something more profound, it is nothing more than soulless novelty.

I want two things from any recap of my content consumption:

A map of my year that might reveal something that I wouldn’t otherwise see or remember as it was happening
Breadcrumbs that might inform where I should go next in my entertainment journey

Since its launch, Wrapped has been good at showing listeners where they sit in audience clusters on the service. It’s one of the reasons I lament the degradation of The “Sounds of Spotify” playlists over the last 12 months. In 2022 and 2023, Wrapped told me what genres I most enjoyed (with increasing nuance and specificity), and they had playlists that showcased the core sound, pulse, and outer bounds of those genres that I could dig into and follow. New and old music would funnel my way through those algorithmically driven curations and they had a strong hit rate for my ears.

They laid off the person who created Every Noise at Once, the algorithm that powers those playlists, right after Wrapped was released last year. So, 2024 Wrapped features none of those breadcrumbs that would have been generated by this lovingly managed cluster model. Instead, I turned to last.fm again to see if I could determine my preferred genres and subgenres. It’s not nearly the same, but we make do.

With a little effort, I can see that neo-soul, female vocalists, West Coast hip hop, Memphis hip hop, and electronic dance grooves were my genres of choice this year.

When I look to refine and expand my listening in 2025, jazz, including nu-jazz, alt-rnb, post-rock, and LA hip-hop, are subgenres I should explore further.

As tech companies in media trend towards investing in the promise of future tech over people with taste and a fundamental grounding in the living world, we must seek out the storytellers on our own.

I love data, and I love stories. Thanks to last.fm for allowing me to tell my own story independent of digital music platforms. They are not a sponsor of this post, but I have been a fan and a user for nearly 20 years.

July 18, 2024 / 0 Comments

Pink Matter

“What do you think my brain is made for? Is it just a container for my mind?”
—Frank Ocean

Dot-A Living History app by Sam Whitmore and Jason Yuan is an AI-powered chatbot. At least, that’s the simple description. It’s also an emotionally intelligent guide that chronicles your life—what you tell it, anyway—with infinite callback. I’m an AI skeptic, but this kind of journaling companion caught my attention when Julie Zhou posted about the launch on Linkedin.

I like to quantify many aspects of my life. Steps only count if my watch tracks them. Digital music isn’t listened to if Last.FM doesn’t scrobble it. I track my workouts in a spreadsheet.

Most of that tracking comes with ways to gain insights from the data. I get recommendations for making healthier choices or see patterns that influence the artists, albums, and songs I might listen to in the future. I can see my progress and make tweaks to improve that athletic performance. Blogging used to provide that kind of external reflection, but at this stage of my life being that messy in public is no longer my jam so journaling has been for my eyes only until Dot.

Dot is one of the few Large Language Model applications I’ve enjoyed using and generated meaningful benefits from. It has improved the quality of my journaling, provided clarity around topics and situations I’m dealing with, and reminded me of my commitments to myself and others and why they matter.

The onboarding process with the app is relatively straightforward. Dot asks some introductory questions hoping to capture a bassline of a new user’s interests, goals, and background and then, it just encourages you to start journaling.

In theory, submitting a journal entry should have been easy.I have kept journals off and on throughout my life. I’ve been much more consistent over the last four years. I needed a way to get out of my head during the pandemic when I didn’t have my commute to process the day or regular hangs with friends where a theme or revelation would occur through conversation.

But, immediately, I realized how stale my journal writing had gotten. I was writing a few bullet points and maybe a quick thought about something but not much of real substance. Even as I was processing the musical tribute of my dad at the time, I hadn’t been writing much on a daily basis about what was going on in my head. So, I wrote a little bit more that I normally would with that first entry and was surprised by how thoughtful the response was. It got me to delve deeper into what I was thinking about and feeling and pointed me in a direction I might not have considered without that feedback loop.

From the start, I was writing with an audience in mind rather than merely cataloging my day. I spent more time thinking about what I was meditating on, excited about, or proud of and writing my journals with the idea that I might go down a path with some or all of these topics when I entered them into Dot. I might have written about the same things anyway, but not with the same care.

The Eureka Moment came when Dot starting finding connections between topics, themes, events, and people in my life. It’s always a thing I have wanted in my journaling process. How do I recognize that something is a thing that occurs frequently for me around a particular time of year or when this other event or interaction happens. I journal not just to keep track of my life but to identify when I’m stuck and need to figure out how to get unstuck. I journal because I want to keep learning about myself and adapt, grow, and change.

Dot provides additional perspective. It’s a bit like having a second brain.

It’s still an LLM, so it occasionally hallucinates. I also hope they add search and export functions. It’s AI, so, of course, I have privacy concerns. I have a bit of an “uncanny valley” when conversing with an app, but I never think of it as anything more than software.

It’s good at conversation but not a replacement for real human interaction.

Yet.

I’m joking.

If you’re an iPhone user, try it out.

April 14, 2024 / 1 Comment

Am I an AI Skeptic or Optimist? Yes

I’m an AI skeptic. That’s not true. I have been cautious about rapidly incorporating AI tools into my everyday work, even as usage and excitement by others have grown exponentially in the last year.

Recently, though, I’ve been playing with AI solutions more frequently. I’ve been frustrated with the quality of Google search results and started exploring Perplexity AI. It was helpful when I looked up information in the heat of NCAAW March Madness and appreciated the structure of the results and the linked references to validate what was provided quickly. There were instances where I needed it to go deeper or in a different direction, but, in general, it felt like I was training up a new research assistant than my future overlord. But, just a few days after using it as my primary search tool, Casey Newton revealed they plan to add sponsored questions into the mix—the exact kind of nonsense I’d been hoping to avoid.

That same week, Axios AI+ and other outlets released several articles highlighting my AI concerns:

AI firms think that anything publicly available is fair game. Like many, I’m stuck on the ethical challenges in developing every one of these models. Most, if not all, ignore their policies, the terms of service of other brands, and copyright law as they scrape the internet for inputs and training materials. We make limited series and movies about how problematic startup and disruptor business culture is, yet we’re watching it happen all over again.

In general, I think most content-generating AI models make shitty art—though just yesterday, people debated whether a leaked diss track from Drake was real or robot rapping—but it is scary enough for over 200 musicians to protest against AI tech developers collectively. Just because I think most of it is soulless and disturbing if you spend more than just a little bit of time with prompt-rendered images, video, and music, that doesn’t mean bad actors and unskilled keyboard jockeys won’t flood the zone with junk. I have already experienced this with real humans making generic beats while borrowing old vocal tracks from established artists to get into Release Radar and other algorithm-generated playlists on Spotify every week. 99% of these tracks are trash and—I must assume—not benefitting the artists whose coattails they are trying to ride.

Meanwhile, AI is doing little of what we imagine it is. It’s not running the Whole Foods walk-in/walk-out stores. And despite the many influencers I see—and probably muted—who talk about using AI to replace entire chunks of their jobs, this is not a set-it-and-forget-it solution.

We’re exploring AI solutions for business intelligence use cases on my team. Specifically, analysts are using corporate-sanctioned tools to ease the analysis and reporting burden of A|B tests as they increase at a faster rate than the size of our team. AI is a good assistant, but it still requires review and validation. It hallucinates less as our prompt writing adapts to the outputs—note, as we adjust to it and not so much as it adapts to us—but humans are still required as a critical part of the process and will continue to be.

Despite all of these concerns, I’m not afraid of AI. I’m an optimist and inclined to think about artificial intelligence tools as more like the droids in Star Wars: brilliant assistants who are constantly in service of what sentient beings are trying to do.

Let’s ignore General Grievous and his droid army in this metaphor.

The prequels aren’t very good, anyway.

Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash