A few weeks ago, I was talking to an artist friend about my career. When I told her I’d spent five years as Lead Music Programmer at Amazon Music, she looked at me and said, “Oh wow, so you were one of the people who actually made the decisions!”

I laughed. But she had a point.

For five years, I was responsible for music programming at Amazon Music, including the programming of pop and French-language playlists. I also launched an emerging talent program, which was one of my favorite parts of the job: discovering new artists and helping them reach wider audiences.

Back then, receiving pitches, listening to new releases, meeting label teams and deciding which tracks to support were simply part of my daily routine. You almost forget that, on the other side, an editorial decision can mean a great deal to an artist.

Now that I’ve spent several years advising artists and labels on their streaming strategies, I realize how valuable it is to have experienced both sides of that relationship.

So I thought I’d share a few memories. The pitches that caught my attention, the practices that drove me crazy, the gifts I still remember and the little things that sometimes made a difference.

One important disclaimer: this is my personal perspective. These are not Amazon Music’s official editorial guidelines, nor a universal set of rules for securing playlist placements. They’re simply the preferences, experiences and occasional pet peeves of someone who spent five years programming music.

1. Give me data, not another promise of a massive marketing campaign

When I received a pitch, I wanted to understand what was actually happening around the artist. Beyond the song itself, I was interested in the signals suggesting that something was building.

Maybe an emerging artist had a small but highly engaged community. Maybe their previous release had shown interesting growth, their live shows were gaining traction, or they were developing a particularly strong audience in one territory. Those were the kinds of details that made me pay attention.

It wasn’t necessarily about impressive numbers. A relatively unknown artist with modest streaming figures but compelling engagement signals could be far more interesting than a project presenting large numbers without any meaningful context.

What I didn’t particularly enjoy were vague statements such as “a massive promotional campaign is planned,” “the release will benefit from significant marketing support” or “this is definitely an artist to watch.”

Let’s be clear: none of this is new. Long before streaming existed, record labels were already using promotional campaigns as selling points in the preorder sheets they sent to physical distributors and record stores. Radio, press, television and advertising plans were presented as reasons for retailers to stock a release.

The format has changed, but the sales pitch hasn’t evolved nearly as much as you might think. Of course, marketing information could be useful. It helped me understand the broader release strategy. But a large promotional budget wasn’t, by itself, evidence that an audience was connecting with the music.

I felt the same way about vague artist comparisons. Describing a new act as somewhere between two completely different artists rarely helped me understand their actual identity. Sometimes it made the positioning even more confusing.

What I valued was specificity. Relevant data, meaningful context and a clear artistic identity. Give me a reason to believe something interesting is happening, rather than simply telling me how much money is being spent to make it happen.

2. My favorite pitches weren’t always about priority releases

Some of my favorite relationships during those years were with people who genuinely understood my musical taste.

Naturally, labels and distributors had priority releases to promote. That was part of their job, and I completely understood it. But I particularly appreciated the people who went beyond their official priorities and introduced me to artists they thought I would personally enjoy.

Sometimes it was a young act that wasn’t receiving a major promotional push. Sometimes it was an unexpected discovery or a project that didn’t obviously fit the commercial priorities of the moment. I still remember some of those conversations and discoveries, including artists such as Thibaut (ex. Oete).

Those exchanges were particularly valuable because they were based on musical curiosity rather than a purely transactional relationship. The people pitching me had taken the time to understand my tastes, the playlists I worked on and the kinds of projects I was naturally drawn to.

And that’s what made the job so enjoyable. Beyond commercial priorities and release schedules, we were music lovers sharing discoveries and trying to support artists we believed in.

A great pitching relationship, in my experience, wasn’t just about knowing your own catalogue. It was also about knowing the person you were talking to.

3. Please don’t tell me which playlist your song belongs in

This one used to annoy me a little. And yes, I can laugh about it now.

I regularly received pitches suggesting exactly which playlists a track should be added to. Sometimes the recommendations were extremely specific, with several playlist names listed as if the placement were already obvious.

I understood the intention. The person pitching had probably researched our playlists and wanted to demonstrate that the song was relevant. The problem was that those recommendations were often completely off.

An editorial playlist is not simply a collection of songs belonging to the same genre. It has its own identity, sonic direction, audience and editorial purpose. Two tracks can both be classified as pop while having very different roles within a listening experience. And, perhaps more importantly, those were my playlists. My editorial direction. My programming decisions.

I loved receiving music and understanding why someone believed in a project. What I didn’t particularly enjoy was being told where a track should go, especially when the recommendation showed a limited understanding of the playlist itself. There was something slightly ironic about trying to convince a music editor to support a song while simultaneously explaining how to do their job.

My advice today is to demonstrate that you understand the editorial environment you’re approaching, without trying to make the programming decision yourself. Give the editor the right information and let them assess where, or whether, the track fits.

4. My personal inbox was not an alternative pitching platform

Another practice I really disliked was receiving unsolicited music pitches through my personal channels. I understand why artists do it. When you’ve spent months working on a release and you’re struggling to get people to listen, finding a direct route to an editor can feel like an opportunity.

But receiving professional requests through personal email accounts or private social media profiles could quickly become intrusive. And in many cases, it wasn’t doing the artist any favors.

Instead of creating interest, those messages often felt like spam. Even a promising project could make a poor first impression when the approach ignored basic professional boundaries.

There’s a difference between building a genuine industry relationship and trying to bypass someone’s professional channels. This is something I still encourage artists to consider when approaching editors, journalists, curators or other music professionals. Personalizing your pitch doesn’t mean finding the most private way to contact someone. It means understanding who you’re contacting, why your project might be relevant and how to approach them appropriately.

5. A skateboard, a butt-shaped candle and far too many CDs

Now, let’s talk about gifts, because some of them were genuinely memorable.

Over the years, I received all kinds of promotional goodies and personalized surprises. A skateboard, postcards addressed specifically to me and even a butt-shaped candle that I still own today!

I actually enjoyed those creative touches, particularly when they reflected an artist’s personality or the universe surrounding a release. Sometimes they were funny, sometimes unexpected, and sometimes they simply made an otherwise ordinary professional interaction a little more memorable.

On the other hand, I also received a surprising number of CDs. The problem? I no longer owned anything that could play them. There was something quite amusing about working at a streaming platform while regularly receiving physical releases I couldn’t actually listen to.

Did a gift determine whether I would playlist a song? Of course not. The music and its editorial relevance remained essential. But an original, thoughtful gesture could make an artist or project memorable. There’s a meaningful difference between trying to buy someone’s attention and finding a creative way to introduce them to your artistic world.

And apparently, a butt-shaped candle can have a remarkably long shelf life.

6. Yes, being a genuinely nice artist could sometimes make a difference

This is probably the most personal point in this article, but also one of the most important to me.

I loved meeting artists who were approachable, curious and genuinely enjoyable to talk to. The ones who took a little time to chat after a concert, share a conversation or simply connect without immediately trying to get something in return.

Of course, my responsibility was to program music. A lovely conversation couldn’t turn a song that didn’t fit a playlist into the perfect editorial choice.

But I can remember situations where I was considering two songs I liked equally, both of which were relevant to a particular programming opportunity, and my appreciation of the artist could influence which one I felt more inclined to support.

Not because one artist had networked more aggressively than the other. Simply because meeting someone, understanding their personality or having a genuinely enjoyable interaction could strengthen my connection to their project.

We sometimes forget that behind streaming platforms, playlists and editorial decisions, there are human beings. People with their own tastes, sensitivities, musical passions and enthusiasm for particular artists.

And I think that human dimension still matters enormously in the music industry. Not simply because relationships create opportunities, but because so much of this business is built on a shared love of music.

What five years as a music editor taught me about pitching

Today, when I work with artists and labels on their streaming strategies, I often think back to those experiences.

I know how frustrating it can be to prepare a release, spend time crafting a pitch and receive no editorial support. But I also know what the job looks like from the other side: listening to an enormous amount of music, making difficult choices, maintaining an editorial identity and trying to create the best possible discovery experience for listeners.

That’s why I encourage artists to approach pitching as an opportunity to present their project, not as a request for a favor. A good pitch should create curiosity, provide relevant context and help the recipient quickly understand the artistic identity, momentum and potential behind a release.

It’s also important to remember that not being selected doesn’t necessarily mean your music isn’t good. A great song can simply be the wrong fit for a particular playlist, editorial direction or programming moment.

Music pitching is about relevance, preparation and human connection. It has never been an exact science.

The exercise: look at your next pitch from the editor’s perspective

Before sending your next music pitch, read it as if you were the person receiving it. You may never have heard of this artist before, you’ve already listened to dozens of new releases, and you need to quickly understand why this project deserves your attention.

Ask yourself four questions. What concrete information demonstrates momentum or genuine audience engagement? Is the artistic positioning clear enough to understand the project’s identity? Does the pitch provide something useful rather than simply making promotional claims? And are you respecting the recipient’s editorial role and professional boundaries?

If the strongest argument in your pitch is that a major promotional campaign is planned, you probably have more work to do.

🎓 Want to go further?

Understanding streaming platforms, preparing effective editorial pitches and developing a coherent release strategy are all topics I cover through my music streaming consulting and training programs.

👉 Explore my training programs and consulting services at camillejamet.fr.