Why We Still Need Librarians and DJs in the Age of the Algorithm

In 2015, I wrote a post for Libfocus called Librarians are a lot like DJs. My argument was straightforward enough. Librarians and DJs are both curators. We sort through vast amounts of material, identify what we think has value, and connect people with resources they may never have discovered otherwise. Whether the medium happens to be books, journal articles, archives, podcasts or records, the underlying principle remains much the same. We help people navigate abundance.  

More than a decade later, I find myself returning to that idea, not just as a librarian writing about DJs, but as someone who unexpectedly became a college radio DJ on UCC983FM shortly after I wrote that post.  

Next week, on 10 September, I will start presenting a new show, The Thursday Mixtape, on UCC 98.3FM every Thursday evening from 6pm to 8pm. The programme will also be available afterwards through Mixcloud for anyone who misses the live broadcast and wants to listen back.  

As I've been planning the show, choosing music, and thinking about what I want the show to be, I have found myself reflecting on that 2015 article and wondering whether its central argument might actually be more relevant today than it was then.  

When I wrote that original piece, streaming was already well established. Spotify had been around for a number of years and services such as Deezer and Google Play Music were gaining traction. What has changed since then is the extent to which recommendation algorithms have become the primary means through which many people discover music.  

There is no question that these systems provide value. Most of us have probably experienced the pleasure of finding a new artist through a playlist or radio station generated by a streaming platform. The technology is impressive, and the convenience is undeniable. We have access to more music than any previous generation could ever have imagined.  

Yet I sometimes wonder whether abundance has created a different problem.  

When almost everything is available, how do we decide what deserves our attention?  

The traditional answer was often a trusted intermediary. For previous generations that might have been a local record shop owner, a music journalist, a friend with impeccable taste, or a radio DJ. They performed a filtering function. They listened to lots of music so that we did not have to. They developed informed opinions, championed obscure artists, and occasionally took risks on music that had no obvious commercial appeal.  

The important point is that these recommendations came from people rather than processes.  

Algorithms are remarkably effective at identifying patterns in our existing behaviour. They are good at telling us what listeners with similar habits have also enjoyed. What they typically cannot explain is why a particular piece of music matters to someone. They cannot tell stories. They cannot communicate enthusiasm. They cannot share the emotional connection that often sits behind a recommendation.  

A human curator can and does.  

This is one of the ideas behind The Thursday Mixtape. It would be misleading to describe it as a carefully structured programme. In truth, listeners may find it somewhat chaotic. There is no grand curatorial framework. There are no strict rules. There often will not be an obvious connection between successive tracks.  

You might hear a post-punk classic followed by contemporary folk or cheesy pop single. An electronic track might give way to Americana or classical. Shoegaze could sit beside soul or Chinese throat singing. Indie rock may be followed by new wave, classic rock, jazz, disco or something that fits comfortably into none of those categories.  

From a programming perspective, this may seem slightly reckless.  

The only principle guiding the selection is that I like the songs or music I'm going to play and think it is worth sharing.  

That may sound simplistic, but I would argue that this has always been one of the strengths of good radio. Many of the great DJs were not successful because they adhered rigidly to genre boundaries. They were successful because listeners trusted their judgement. People tuned in not necessarily because they knew what was coming next, but because they didn't.  

That element of surprise mattered greatly to me in my formative music days and I’m hoping to bring some of that to the show. 

This is increasingly rare in an environment where recommendation systems are designed to minimise friction and maximise user engagement. The logic of these systems often nudges us towards music that resembles what we have already heard. As a result, listening can become a highly personalised but sometimes surprisingly narrow, and I would say a lesser, experience.  

Radio, at its best, offers something different.  

It introduces randomness. It introduces risk. It creates opportunities for serendipitous discovery. It exposes listeners to music they might otherwise skip past or never encounter at all.  

As librarians, we understand the value of this process. Libraries are not simply warehouses of information. They are spaces of discovery. A good library catalogue can help users locate material efficiently, but the most memorable discoveries often occur through recommendation, browsing or conversation. Sometimes the book or article that changes your perspective or research is not the one you were searching for. It is the one somebody suggested, displayed, or happened to place in your path.  

Music works in much the same way.  

Back in 2015, I argued that we needed librarians because we were drowning in information and choice. I also suggested that we needed DJs because we were drowning in music. Eleven years later, I think both observations remain true and even more so now. 

The technologies have become more sophisticated. Our access to content has expanded beyond anything we could have imagined. Yet the need for informed, passionate, human recommendation has not disappeared.  

If anything, it has become more important. It is now essential. 

The Thursday Mixtape is a small attempt to contribute to that tradition. For two hours every Thursday evening, I will be sharing songs that I think deserve to be heard. There may be no obvious logic to the sequence. There may be no overarching theme. There may be moments when the playlist appears to have wandered completely off course in to a strange bizarre listening world.  

But that is the point.  

Discovery has always been a little messy.  

And sometimes the best recommendations come not from an algorithm that knows exactly what we want, but from another human being who simply says: "Listen to this."