Music does not always bring together Charli XCX, Doechii and Troye Sivan. Substack can.
What began as a pandemic-era habit — a refuge for readers seeking something more substantial online — has evolved into a thriving platform for writers, musicians and thinkers. Substack allows authors to send emails directly to a list of subscribers, who can read, respond and engage in discussion. On the surface, it is a newsletter service. In practice, it has become a cultural space.
All three musicians have a substantial presence on social media. Yet Substack is a different beast. It is not designed for 250-character dispatches or algorithm-friendly snippets. It offers room to unspool thoughts at length, to reflect without interruption. In her debut post, The Realities of Being a Pop Star, Charli XCX writes: “Feeling creativity in abundance is such a f**king blessing and relief. It doesn’t even matter if the ideas are good or not, it just feels euphoric to feel the fountain flowing again.”
Her writing reads less like a promotional update and more like a diary of stardom and pop culture. She reflects on what happens when a body of work she has “nurtured and cared for is thrust out into the world, the umbilical cord is cut and naturally everyone begins to project the work onto themselves”. The metaphor is intimate, maternal even — a stark contrast to the detachment of streaming metrics and chart positions.
She is not alone. Spanish singer Rosalia has published a lyrical essay on Leonard Cohen’s songs Chelsea Hotel and Hallelujah, examining their emotional and literary textures. Singer-songwriter Kevin Morby offered a heartfelt meditation in a post titled RIP Bob Weir: “And while I will always stand by the Velvet Underground being the greatest American rock band, I do believe that it took the Grateful Dead being the Grateful Dead to make the Velvet Underground fully be The Velvet Underground as I know and love them — proof, perhaps, that the Grateful Dead were the most important American rock band.”
Patti Smith, whose song Because the Night remains timeless, is spending her days sharing posts such as Beat Hearts, A Night Message and Light Hearted Observations. “I know there is a million things to say,” she writes, “but sometimes I don’t like just doing stuff to fill space or because I think I should. I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong. I just have a lot on my mind.” The tone is conversational, unhurried and unfiltered.
There are, in fact, numerous indie rock figures keeping the platform active: Jeff Tweedy, Neko Case, Tegan and Sara, and The Decemberists’ Colin Meloy among them. In a sense, they have become editors of their own online publications. Their posts are often reflective and personal, exploring aspects of their lives that social media platforms — optimised for speed and spectacle — tend to flatten.
Beyond the algorithm
Substack provides musicians with an avenue to express themselves differently. Charli XCX observes: “You cannot avoid the fact that some people are simply determined to prove that you are stupid. I’ve always been completely fascinated by this and think it has something to do with self-projection. Being a pop star has always been partially about being a fantasy and obviously the fantasy is decided mostly by the consumer.”
The platform also enables artistes to shape conversations around themselves rather than react to them. Long-form writing allows for nuance. It reframes narrative. While a musician may not control who streams their songs or how they interpret them, subscribing to a Substack requires intention. Readers opt in. They commit time.
Doechii’s post My Shower Head Is Racist begins with characteristic wit: “As a certified glam girl, the first thing I clock when I step into a hotel room is the bathroom. My temporary palace. My place of peace. My ‘beauty bunker’, if you will. This is the room where I am meant to rinse the day off my body without incident.” The humour draws readers in before moving towards broader reflections.
Substack is not solely the domain of musicians. Serious writers abound. Literary newsletters have become a means of testing ideas, building readership and, in some cases, paving a path towards publication. The platform allows users to build their own mailing lists — effectively creating a direct marketing channel — while also inviting constructive criticism. Self-promotion and genuine engagement coexist. Salman Rushdie has experimented with Substack to considerable success, demonstrating its reach beyond emerging voices.
For newcomers, the platform offers flexibility. Most writers operate tiered subscriptions: free posts for general readers, monthly fees for paywalled content, and often discounted annual plans. It is possible to acquaint oneself with a writer’s style before committing financially.
There are no traditional corporate gatekeepers. There is no formal limit to experimentation. For some, Substack has become a meaningful revenue stream.
From posts to publishing deal
One road on Substack can lead unexpectedly to another. Consider John Pistelli, an English professor and literary blogger. He serialised a novel titled Major Arcana on his Substack before self-publishing it through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing platform.
In April 2024, an interview with him appeared on Ross Barkan’s Substack. Barkan, who commands a substantial readership, praised Pistelli’s work. Anne Trubek, publisher of Belt Publishing and author of her own newsletter, Notes from a Small Press, came across the interview, read Major Arcana, and subsequently offered Pistelli a publishing deal. The episode illustrates the platform’s capacity to connect writers across professional boundaries.
Young writer Sam Dalrymple represents another facet of this ecosystem. His Substack, Travels of Samwise, publishes essays on history, art and, as he describes it, “whatever takes Sam’s fancy”. It is eclectic and engaging, an example of how the platform nurtures distinctive voices.
For musicians, Substack may also serve as a guardrail against burnout. Artistes such as Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus have spoken about preserving their mental health amid relentless touring schedules. Between albums, a newsletter can provide a way to remain in contact with fans without the demands of performance or commercial cycles. It removes the pressure to package every interaction as product.
Substack’s business model is straightforward. Users subscribe to follow creators, and the company takes a small percentage of the revenue when creators charge for Substack subscriptions or podcast access. The simplicity of the structure has helped attract millions of users, who in turn draw in more creators and subscribers.
The platform is not without shortcomings. Substack and Google Search are not natural allies, which can affect discoverability. Some writers approach it competitively, seeking to capture attention in a crowded field.
Yet its appeal persists. If nothing else, Substack offers a space for thoughts that do not fit elsewhere — a forum for likeminded readers and writers to gather. Troye Sivan perhaps captured its essence best: “Going to use this as a mind dump … not unlike how I used to use tw*tter… I have never and will never call it X.”
Two words linger: “mind dump”. In an age of curation, Substack makes room for reflection. Notably, Google searches for “Substack” in the US surpassed those for “newsletter” for the first time last year. It’s a small but telling sign of its cultural ascent.
Visit these Substack writers
Charli XCX: Charli’s Substack
Troye Sivan: Self-titled
Patti Smith: Self-titled
Colin Meloy: Colin Meloy’s Machine Shop
Neko Case: Entering The Lung
Margaret Atwood: In the Writing Burrow
Hanif Kureishi: The Kureishi Chronicles
Elif Shafak: Unmapped Storylands with Elif Shafak
Salman Rushdie: Salman’s Sea of Stories
Jami Attenberg: Craft Talk