We are living in the golden age of content. It wasn’t long ago that our viewing options were limited to what was playing at the local cinema or what the network executives decided to air on Thursday night primetime. If you missed it, you missed it. Today, the landscape is unrecognizable. We have instant access to libraries of entertainment that would take lifetimes to consume, all resting in the palms of our hands.

The shift from linear television and theatrical releases to on-demand streaming has done more than change how we watch; it has fundamentally altered what we watch and how it is made.

With platforms like Netflix, Amazon Prime, Disney+, and Hulu locked in a fierce battle for eyeballs, the demand for high-quality content has skyrocketed. This “content wars” era has provided filmmakers and showrunners with unprecedented budgets and creative freedom to tell niche stories to global audiences.

But amidst the chatter about subscriber numbers and binge-worthy series, there is a quiet revolution happening in the audio department. While the visual spectacle gets the glory, the industry is increasingly waking up to the realization that a movie or series is often only as good as its soundtrack. The power of music placement—known in the industry as “sync”—has shifted from a post-production afterthought to a primary driver of cultural relevance and emotional storytelling.

The Streaming Explosion

To understand the current state of the industry, we have to look at the sheer scale of the disruption. The streaming model has dismantled geographical barriers. A show produced in Seoul, like Squid Game, can become a global phenomenon in a matter of days. A Spanish drama like Money Heist can captivate audiences in the United States.

This globalization of content has created a massive, hungry maw that needs to be fed constantly. In the past, a studio might release a dozen films a year. Now, streaming giants are releasing dozens of new titles every week. This volume has created a unique ecosystem for creative professionals. Writers, directors, and actors have more work than ever, but so do composers, music supervisors, and independent artists.

Because streaming services aren’t beholden to the rigid 22-minute or 42-minute structures of commercial television, creators have more room to breathe. They can let a scene linger. They can experiment with tone. And crucially, they can lean heavily on music to bridge cultural gaps. Dialogue might need subtitles, but an emotionally resonant chord progression or a driving drum beat is a universal language.

More Than Just Background Noise

We have all experienced it. You are watching a scene—perhaps a character is driving down a lonely highway at night, or a couple is sharing a final, tearful goodbye. The acting is superb, the lighting is perfect, but it is the song swelling in the background that causes the goosebumps to rise on your arms.

Music in film and television acts as a shortcut to the subconscious. It bypasses the logical part of our brains that analyzes plot holes and dialogue, tapping directly into our emotional centers. In this new era of prestige TV and high-budget streaming films, the “needle drop”—the moment a specific song starts playing—has become an art form in itself.

It is no longer enough to simply have “sad music” for a sad scene or “fast music” for a chase scene. Modern audiences are sophisticated. They crave authenticity and texture. Showrunners are using music not just to underscore emotion, but to counter-program it—playing an upbeat pop song over a gruesome fight scene, or a serene classical piece during a moment of chaotic destruction. This juxtaposition creates a complex viewing experience that keeps subscribers hooked.

The Mechanics of Sync Licensing

This is where “sync” comes into play. Synchronization licensing is the process by which music is licensed for use in visual media (movies, TV shows, video games, commercials). It is a complex legal and creative dance involving rights holders, publishers, record labels, and the production team.

Historically, syncs were the domain of major label artists. If you wanted a hit song in your movie, you paid a fortune to a major publisher. While big-budget syncs still happen, the streaming era has democratized this process. With so many hours of content to fill, production budgets for music are often stretched thin. This has opened the door wide for independent artists and smaller labels.

The Role of the Music Supervisor

Enter the music supervisor. These unsung heroes are the bridge between the director’s vision and the music world. Their job is part creative curation, part detective work, and part legal negotiation.

In the streaming age, the music supervisor has become a star player. They are the tastemakers who decide that a gritty, obscure 1970s funk track is the perfect opening theme for a modern crime drama. They are the ones scouring SoundCloud and Bandcamp for the perfect indie folk song to close out a season finale.

Because shows are now binged, the musical identity of a series must be cohesive. Supervisors build sonic worlds. Think of the synth-heavy nostalgia of Stranger Things or the classical covers of modern pop hits in Bridgerton. These aren’t random choices; they are carefully curated playlists that define the show’s brand.

The “Kate Bush Effect”: Viral Moments

The impact of a well-placed sync extends far beyond the screen. In the streaming era, a sync can resurrect a career or launch a new one overnight.

The most potent example of this phenomenon is the “Kate Bush Effect.” In 2022, the fourth season of Stranger Things featured Kate Bush’s 1985 single “Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God)” in a pivotal plotline. The song didn’t just play in the background; it was integral to the story, serving as a lifeline for the character Max.

The result was unprecedented. Thirty-seven years after its release, the song rocketed to number one on charts globally. It introduced a legacy artist to an entirely new generation of Gen Z listeners who had never heard her name. It wasn’t just a popularity boost; it generated millions of dollars in revenue for Bush, who owns her own publishing company.

We saw a similar phenomenon with The Cramps’ “Goo Goo Muck” in the Netflix series Wednesday, and Linda Ronstadt’s “Long Long Time” in HBO’s The Last of Us.

These moments prove that television is the new radio. In a fragmented media landscape where radio listenership is declining, and algorithms dictate our Spotify queues, a sync in a popular show is one of the few remaining “mass culture” moments where millions of people discover a song simultaneously.

Opportunities for Emerging Artists

For independent musicians, the streaming revolution in TV is a lifeline. In an industry where selling physical albums is a rarity, and streaming royalties from Spotify or Apple Music can be fractions of a penny, a sync fee can be a game-changer.

A single placement in a show like Grey’s Anatomy or Riverdale can provide an artist with enough upfront money to fund their next tour or record their next album. But beyond the fee, the “Shazam factor” is huge. Viewers watch with their phones in hand. When they hear a song they like, they identify it, stream it, and add it to their personal playlists.

This pipeline—from screen to stream—has become a viable career strategy. Many artists now create music specifically with “sync appeal” in mind, focusing on cinematic builds, evocative lyrics, and production styles that leave room for dialogue.

The Future of Sound in Visual Media

As we look ahead, the relationship between visual media and music will only deepen. We are seeing the rise of “visual albums” and music-driven anthologies. We are seeing video game adaptations that treat their soundtracks with the same reverence as blockbuster film scores.

However, challenges remain. The sheer volume of content means the market is crowded. For every Stranger Things success story, there are thousands of shows where the music goes unnoticed. Furthermore, the rise of AI-generated music poses a looming question for the industry. Will budget-conscious studios eventually turn to AI to generate mood music, cutting human composers and songwriters out of the loop?

While AI can mimic structure, it struggles to replicate the raw human emotion that connects a viewer to a character. The “soul” of a song—the cracking voice of a singer, the imperfect strum of a guitar—is often what sells the scene. As long as audiences crave connection, there will be a need for human music in our favorite stories.

A Symphony of Visuals

The revolution in the film and TV industry is not just about 4K resolution or binge-watching models. It is a sonic revolution. The streaming wars have elevated the soundtrack from a supporting role to a lead character.

For filmmakers, it is a tool of immense power. For artists, it is a gateway to global fandom. And for us, the viewers, it ensures that our favorite stories don’t just unfold before our eyes—they resonate in our ears and echo in our memories long after the credits roll.

If you are interested in learning more about how media trends are shaping the future, or looking to understand the creative industries better, keep an eye on the credits of the next show you binge. You might find your new favorite band hiding in the tracklist.