This week, Adobe revealed an experimental audio AI tool to join its image-based ones in Photoshop. Described by the company as “an early-stage generative AI music generation and editing tool,” Adobe’s Project Music GenAI Control can create music (and other audio) from text prompts, which it can then fine-tune in the same interface.
Adobe frames the Firefly-based technology as a creative ally that — unlike generative audio experiments like Google’s MusicLM — goes a step further and skips the hassle of moving the output to external apps like Pro Tools, Logic Pro or GarageBand for editing. “Instead of manually cutting existing music to make intros, outros, and background audio, Project Music GenAI Control could help users to create exactly the pieces they need—solving workflow pain points end-to-end,” Adobe wrote in an announcement blog post.
The company suggests starting with text inputs like “powerful rock,” “happy dance” or “sad jazz” as a foundation. From there, you can enter more prompts to adjust its tempo, structure and repetition, increase its intensity, extend its length, remix entire sections or create loops. The company says it can even transform audio based on a reference melody.
“One of the exciting things about these new tools is that they aren’t just about generating audio—they’re taking it to the level of Photoshop by giving creatives the same kind of deep control to shape, tweak, and edit their audio. It’s a kind of pixel-level control for music,” Adobe Research scientist Nicholas Bryan wrote.
The project is a collaboration with the University of California, San Diego and the School of Computer Science, Carnegie Mellon University. Adobe’s announcement emphasized Project Music GenAI Control’s experimental nature. (It didn’t reveal much of its interface in the video above, suggesting it may not have a consumer-facing UI yet.) So you may have to wait a while before the feature (presumably) makes its way into Adobe’s Creative Cloud suite.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/adobes-latest-ai-experiment-generates-music-from-text-184019169.html?src=rss
Spotify has added another subscription option. This time around, it's offering a plan that has little to do with music. The Audiobooks Access Tier (which is US-only for now) offers 15 hours of audiobook listening each month for $10. You'll have access to Spotify's library of more than 200,000 titles You can, of course, still listen to ad-supported music via Spotfy's free tier.
At first glance, it might seem odd for Spotify to offer an audiobook-only tier at this price. Spotify Premium, which costs $11 per month, has the same 15 hours of audiobook listening time as well as other perks. However, audiobooks often take somewhere in the realm of between seven and 11 hours to listen to.
As such, Spotify is undercutting Audible to a degree. That platform offers one audiobook credit per month for $15. So, for $5 less with Spotify, you might be able to listen to roughly two books per month (unless you prefer to enjoy epic novels that are around 1,000-plus pages long in print). It's worth bearing in mind, though, that unused listening time does not carry over into the next month.
Spotify noted that, since it started offering 15 hours of audiobook listening to Premium subscribers at no extra cost in November, there's been a 45 percent increase in those on the free tier searching for and interacting with audiobook material every day (the company also sells audiobooks on its web player). That uptick in interest is a decent enough reason for Spotify to try an audiobook-only subscription tier.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/spotify-rolls-out-an-audiobook-only-subscription-180829039.html?src=rss
Spotify has added another subscription option. This time around, it's offering a plan that has little to do with music. The Audiobooks Access Tier (which is US-only for now) offers 15 hours of audiobook listening each month for $10. You'll have access to Spotify's library of more than 200,000 titles You can, of course, still listen to ad-supported music via Spotfy's free tier.
At first glance, it might seem odd for Spotify to offer an audiobook-only tier at this price. Spotify Premium, which costs $11 per month, has the same 15 hours of audiobook listening time as well as other perks. However, audiobooks often take somewhere in the realm of between seven and 11 hours to listen to.
As such, Spotify is undercutting Audible to a degree. That platform offers one audiobook credit per month for $15. So, for $5 less with Spotify, you might be able to listen to roughly two books per month (unless you prefer to enjoy epic novels that are around 1,000-plus pages long in print). It's worth bearing in mind, though, that unused listening time does not carry over into the next month.
Spotify noted that, since it started offering 15 hours of audiobook listening to Premium subscribers at no extra cost in November, there's been a 45 percent increase in those on the free tier searching for and interacting with audiobook material every day (the company also sells audiobooks on its web player). That uptick in interest is a decent enough reason for Spotify to try an audiobook-only subscription tier.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/spotify-rolls-out-an-audiobook-only-subscription-180829039.html?src=rss
Axios, a site known for political analysis and extensive use of bullet points, has joined the ranks of pundits fawning over Mark Zuckerberg’s PR strategy. The Meta CEO, they claim, is (as originally headlined) "having a PR moment" which is "casting a halo effect on the company itself." That's obviously untrue, but let's say it in a format more likely to reach Axios's audience.
The big picture: Zuckerberg’s recent PR blitz is neither out of character nor a sign of a freshly rehabbed image. In fact, Meta and Zuckerberg are staring down one of the biggest crises they’ve ever faced.
Why it matters: Praising the PR strategy of a gigantic company which is credibly accused of enabling a variety of mass-scale harms is, at best, irresponsible, even if that PR strategy was working — which it isn't.
Describing competitor products as inferior is exactly what executives are supposed to do. Zero points awarded.
The CEO of Meta responding to some of his social media comments isn’t a sign of radical authenticity, it's a ploy for engagement.
Saying you've "never seen Zuckerberg," who to the best of our knowledge is a living, breathing human man "act so ... real" is an astonishingly low bar to clear!
To recap here, Meta is embroiled in a massive lawsuit from nearly every state over the myriad ways it has allegedly harmed its youngest users. And Zuckerberg’s actions, or lack thereof, are at the heart of many of these claims. Court documents have revealed that the CEO personally intervened to block a proposed ban on plastic surgery filters on Instagram despite advice from experts that these effects could exacerbate body dysmorphia and eating disorders. Under his leadership, Meta turned a blind eye to children using its platform, against its own policies, and did little to stop adults from sexually harassing children. Under his leadership, Instagram’s recommendation algorithm promoted child sexual exploitation content and connected a "vast pedophile network." At the same time, Zuckerberg repeatedly denied or ignored requests from his top lieutenants to invest more in safety. Just last week, his lawyers were in federal court arguing that he should not be held personally responsible in dozens of lawsuits over the harms his platforms have allegedly caused.
The most viral moments from Zuck's Congressional testimony, which Axios bizarrely suggests was good for his image, was a moment when he stammered an apology to the families of children who have been victims of online exploitation on the platforms he controls. One parent in the room described it as “forced.” The second-most viral moment was Senator Ted Cruz pointing to a posterboard of an in-app Instagram warning screen which indicated search results might "contain images of child sexual abuse" and which also provided the option to "see results anyway."
REUTERS / Reuters
Needless to say, Zuckerberg and his handlers are savvy enough to know that none of that is good for the public image of the fourth-richest person in the world. That Zuckerberg has been particularly eager to share his quirky hobbies and newfound love of Japanese McDonald’s is not at all surprising. Distraction is a time-worn PR move, but no amount of light-hearted Instagram posts can blunt a headline like, "Meta Staff Found Instagram Tool Enabled Child Exploitation. The Company Pressed Ahead Anyway."
This also isn’t a new strategy for Zuckerberg. While it’s true he was once a painfully awkward and verysweaty public speaker, he has long since shed that image. And he’s gone through several different versions of himself. He spent much of 2017 on a listening tour of the US visiting farms and factories and random families’ dinner tables (many of whom happened to reside in swing states, fueling speculation that he was eyeing a move into politics.) And well, a political tour is sort of what he was doing: Zuckerberg reportedly has had a pollster whose full-time job is to track public perception of his often alien behavior. One such pollster reportedly quit after just six months, coming to believe the company was bad for society. Mark's favorability in a variety of public polls has ranged from very bad to extremely, laughably, irreparably bad.
This is far from the first time Mark has tried to distract the public with a personal hobby, only for his inability to relate to the average human experience to lead to a swift and spectacular faceplant. Take, for example, his infamous backyard grilling Facebook Live from 2017, wherein he managed to utter the word "meats" 13 times over the course of 30-odd achingly long minutes. It was awkward, but not quite as strange as the time Mark allegedly challenged himself to only eat meat from animals he himself killed, resulting in a moment where he allegedly turned an alive goat into a dead one with "a laser gun and then the knife," according to former Twitter CEO Jack Dorsey. (And like a true rich weirdo, he opted to learn how to end an animal's life, but, according to the same recollection by Dorsey, outsourced the butchering to someone else.) Perhaps more successfully, in 2019 he appeared to discover his love of foiling — which is like wakeboarding, but dorkier and much more expensive.
In short, Zuckerberg isn’t reinventing himself as much as simply remixing the same PR formula he’s been using for years, particularly when his company is in some sort of distress, which seems to be always. His people are trying very hard to make him seem like a normal guy through a mix of carefully curated social media posts, photo opps and talks with media personalities. It's a strategy that will continue to work on a handful of gullible people. At least as long as some of those media personalities — like Axios CEO Mike Allen — are willing to call men like Mark Zuckerberg "real, daring and unguarded."
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/no-mark-zuckerberg-isnt-having-a-pr-moment-171524818.html?src=rss
Axios, a site known for political analysis and extensive use of bullet points, has joined the ranks of pundits fawning over Mark Zuckerberg’s PR strategy. The Meta CEO, they claim, is (as originally headlined) "having a PR moment" which is "casting a halo effect on the company itself." That's obviously untrue, but let's say it in a format more likely to reach Axios's audience.
The big picture: Zuckerberg’s recent PR blitz is neither out of character nor a sign of a freshly rehabbed image. In fact, Meta and Zuckerberg are staring down one of the biggest crises they’ve ever faced.
Why it matters: Praising the PR strategy of a gigantic company which is credibly accused of enabling a variety of mass-scale harms is, at best, irresponsible, even if that PR strategy was working — which it isn't.
Describing competitor products as inferior is exactly what executives are supposed to do. Zero points awarded.
The CEO of Meta responding to some of his social media comments isn’t a sign of radical authenticity, it's a ploy for engagement.
Saying you've "never seen Zuckerberg," who to the best of our knowledge is a living, breathing human man "act so ... real" is an astonishingly low bar to clear!
To recap here, Meta is embroiled in a massive lawsuit from nearly every state over the myriad ways it has allegedly harmed its youngest users. And Zuckerberg’s actions, or lack thereof, are at the heart of many of these claims. Court documents have revealed that the CEO personally intervened to block a proposed ban on plastic surgery filters on Instagram despite advice from experts that these effects could exacerbate body dysmorphia and eating disorders. Under his leadership, Meta turned a blind eye to children using its platform, against its own policies, and did little to stop adults from sexually harassing children. Under his leadership, Instagram’s recommendation algorithm promoted child sexual exploitation content and connected a "vast pedophile network." At the same time, Zuckerberg repeatedly denied or ignored requests from his top lieutenants to invest more in safety. Just last week, his lawyers were in federal court arguing that he should not be held personally responsible in dozens of lawsuits over the harms his platforms have allegedly caused.
The most viral moments from Zuck's Congressional testimony, which Axios bizarrely suggests was good for his image, was a moment when he stammered an apology to the families of children who have been victims of online exploitation on the platforms he controls. One parent in the room described it as “forced.” The second-most viral moment was Senator Ted Cruz pointing to a posterboard of an in-app Instagram warning screen which indicated search results might "contain images of child sexual abuse" and which also provided the option to "see results anyway."
REUTERS / Reuters
Needless to say, Zuckerberg and his handlers are savvy enough to know that none of that is good for the public image of the fourth-richest person in the world. That Zuckerberg has been particularly eager to share his quirky hobbies and newfound love of Japanese McDonald’s is not at all surprising. Distraction is a time-worn PR move, but no amount of light-hearted Instagram posts can blunt a headline like, "Meta Staff Found Instagram Tool Enabled Child Exploitation. The Company Pressed Ahead Anyway."
This also isn’t a new strategy for Zuckerberg. While it’s true he was once a painfully awkward and verysweaty public speaker, he has long since shed that image. And he’s gone through several different versions of himself. He spent much of 2017 on a listening tour of the US visiting farms and factories and random families’ dinner tables (many of whom happened to reside in swing states, fueling speculation that he was eyeing a move into politics.) And well, a political tour is sort of what he was doing: Zuckerberg reportedly has had a pollster whose full-time job is to track public perception of his often alien behavior. One such pollster reportedly quit after just six months, coming to believe the company was bad for society. Mark's favorability in a variety of public polls has ranged from very bad to extremely, laughably, irreparably bad.
This is far from the first time Mark has tried to distract the public with a personal hobby, only for his inability to relate to the average human experience to lead to a swift and spectacular faceplant. Take, for example, his infamous backyard grilling Facebook Live from 2017, wherein he managed to utter the word "meats" 13 times over the course of 30-odd achingly long minutes. It was awkward, but not quite as strange as the time Mark allegedly challenged himself to only eat meat from animals he himself killed, resulting in a moment where he allegedly turned an alive goat into a dead one with "a laser gun and then the knife," according to former Twitter CEO Jack Dorsey. (And like a true rich weirdo, he opted to learn how to end an animal's life, but, according to the same recollection by Dorsey, outsourced the butchering to someone else.) Perhaps more successfully, in 2019 he appeared to discover his love of foiling — which is like wakeboarding, but dorkier and much more expensive.
In short, Zuckerberg isn’t reinventing himself as much as simply remixing the same PR formula he’s been using for years, particularly when his company is in some sort of distress, which seems to be always. His people are trying very hard to make him seem like a normal guy through a mix of carefully curated social media posts, photo opps and talks with media personalities. It's a strategy that will continue to work on a handful of gullible people. At least as long as some of those media personalities — like Axios CEO Mike Allen — are willing to call men like Mark Zuckerberg "real, daring and unguarded."
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/no-mark-zuckerberg-isnt-having-a-pr-moment-171524818.html?src=rss
It’s 1995, and I’m trying to watch a video on the internet. I entered the longest, most complex URL I’d ever seen into AOL’s web browser to view a trailer for Paul W.S. Anderson’s long-awaited film adaptation of Mortal Kombat. I found it in an issue of Electronic Gaming Monthly, tucked away in the bottom of a full-page ad for the film. Online marketing at the time was such an afterthought, studios didn’t even bother grabbing short and memorable web addresses for their major releases, let alone dedicated websites. (Star Trek Generations and Stargate were among the few early exceptions.)
After the interminable process of transcribing the URL from print, I gathered my family around our Packard Bell PC (powered by an Intel 486 DX and, let’s say, 8MB of RAM), hit return and waited as the video slowly came down our 33.6kbps dial-up connection. And waited. It took 25 minutes for it to fully load. After corralling my family once again, I hit play and was treated to an horrendously compressed, low-resolution version of the trailer I’d been dreaming about for months. It was unwatchable. The audio was shit. But that was the moment I became obsessed with online video.
I imagined a futuristic world beyond my boxy CRT set and limited cable TV subscription. A time after VHS tapes when I could just type in a URL and enjoy a show or movie while eating one of those rehydrated Pizza Hut pies from Back to the Future 2. The internet would make it so.
Looking back now, almost 30 years later, and 20 years after Engadget sprung to life, I realize my 11-year-old self was spot on. The rise of online video transformed the internet from a place where we’d browse the web, update our LiveJournals, steal music and chat with friends on AIM to a place where we could also just sit back and relax. For Millennials, it quickly made our computer screens more important than our TVs. What I didn’t expect, though, was that streaming video would also completely upend Hollywood and the entire entertainment industry.
If my experience with the Mortal Kombat trailer didn’t make it clear enough, video was a disaster on the internet in the ’90s. Most web surfers (as we were known as the time) were stuck with terribly slow modems and similarly unimpressive desktop systems. But really, the problem goes back to dealing with video on computers.
Apple’s Quicktime format made Macs the ideal platform for multimedia creators, and, together with its Hypercard software for creating interactive multimedia databases, it spawned the rise of Myst and the obsession with mixed-media educational software. PCs relied on MPEG-1, which debuted in 1993 and was mainly for VCDs and some digital TV providers. The problem with both formats was space: Hard drives were notoriously small and expensive at the time, which made CDs the main option for accessing any sort of video on your computer. If your computer only had a 500MB hard drive, a slim disc that could store 650MB seemed like magic.
But that also meant video had no place in the early internet. RealPlayer was the first true stab at delivering streaming video and audio online — and while it was better than waiting 20 minutes for a huge file to download, it was still hard to actually stream media when you were constrained by a dial-up modem. I remember seeing buffering alerts more than I did any actual RealPlayer content. It took the proliferation of broadband internet access and one special app from Adobe to make web video truly viable.
While we may curse its name today, it’s worth remembering how vital Macromedia Flash was to the web in the early 2000s. (We’ve been around long enough to cover Adobe’s acquisition of Macromedia in 2005!) Its support for vector graphics, stylized text and simple games injected new life into the internet, and it allowed just about anyone to create that content. HTML just wasn’t enough. Ask any teen or 20-something who was online at the time, and they could probably still recite most of The End of the World by heart.
With 2002’s Flash MX 6, Macromedia added support for Sorenson’s Spark video codec, which opened the floodgates for online video. (It was eventually replaced in 2005 by the VP6 codec from On2, a company Google acquired in 2009.) Macromedia’s video offering looked decent, loaded quickly and was supported on every browser that had the Flash plugin, making it the ideal player choice for video websites.
The adult entertainment industry latched onto Flash video first, as you’d expect. Porn sites also relied on the technology to lock down purchased videos and entice viewers to other sites with interactive ads. But it was YouTube (and, to a lesser extent, Vimeo) that truly showed mainstream users what was possible with video on the internet. After launching in February 2005, YouTube grew so quickly it was serving 100 million videos a day by July 2006, making up 60 percent of all online videos at the time. It’s no wonder Google rushed to acquire the company for $1.65 billion later that year (arguably the search giant’s smartest purchase ever).
After YouTube’s shockingly fast rise, it wasn’t too surprising to see Netflix announce its own Watch Now streaming service in 2007, which also relied on Flash for video. At $17.99 a month for 18 hours of video, with a library of only 1,000 titles, Netflix’s streaming offering didn’t seem like much of a threat to Blockbuster, premium cable channels or cinemas at first. But the company wisely expanded Watch Now to all Netflix subscribers in 2008 and removed any viewing cap: The Netflix binge was born.
It’s 2007, and I’m trying to watch a video on the internet. In my post-college apartment, I hooked up my desktop computer to an early-era (720p) Philips HDTV, and all of a sudden, I had access to thousands of movies, instantly viewable over a semi-decent cable connection. I didn’t need to worry about seeding torrents or compiling Usenet files (things I’d only heard about from dirty pirates, you see). I didn’t have to stress about any Blockbuster late fees. The movies were just sitting on my TV, waiting for me to watch them. It was the dream for digital media fanatics: Legal content available at the touch of a button. What a concept!
Little did I know then that the Watch Now concept would basically take over the world. Netflix initially wanted to create hardware to make the service more easily accessible, but it ended up spinning off that idea, and Roku was born. The company’s streaming push also spurred on the creation of Hulu, announced in late 2007 as a joint offering between NBCUniversal and News Corp. to bring their television shows online. Disney later joined, giving Hulu the full power of all the major broadcast TV networks. Instead of a stale library of older films, Hulu allowed you to watch new shows on the internet the day after they aired. Again, what a concept!
Amazon, it turns out, was actually earlier to the streaming party than Netflix. It launched the Amazon Unbox service in 2006, which was notable for letting you watch videos as they were being downloaded onto your computer. It was rebadged to Amazon Video On Demand in 2008 (a better name, which actually described what it did), and then it became Amazon Instant Video in 2011, when it was tied together with premium Prime memberships.
As the world of streaming video exploded, Flash’s reputation kept getting worse. By the mid-2000s, it was widely recognized as a notoriously buggy program, one so insecure it could lead to malware infecting your PC. (I worked in IT at the time, and the vast majority of issues I encountered on Windows PCs stemmed entirely from Flash.) When the iPhone launched without support for Flash in 2007, it was clear the end was near. YouTube and other video sites moved over to HTML5 video players at that point, and it became the standard by 2015.
By the early 2010s, YouTube and Amazon weren’t happy just licensing content from Hollywood, they wanted some of the action themselves. So the original programming boom began, which kicked off with mostly forgettable shows (anyone remember Netflix’s Lillyhammer or Amazon’s Alpha House? Hemlock Grove? They existed, I swear!).
But then came House of Cards in 2013, Netflix’s original series created by playwright Beau Willimon, executive produced (and partially directed) by renowned filmmaker David Fincher and starring Oscar winner Kevin Spacey (before he was revealed to be a monster). It had all of the ingredients of a premium TV show, and, thanks to Fincher’s deft direction, it looked like something that would be right at home on HBO. Most importantly for Netflix, it got some serious awards love, earning nine Emmy nominations in 2013 and walking away with three statues.
By that point, we could watch streaming video in many more places than our computer’s web browser. You could pull up just about anything on your phone and stream it over 4G LTE, or use your smart TV’s built-in apps to catch up on SNL over Hulu. Your Xbox could also serve as the centerpiece of your home entertainment system. And if you wanted the best possible streaming experience, you could pick up an Apple TV or Roku box. You could start a show on your phone while sitting on the can, then seamlessly continue it when you made your way back to your TV. This was certainly some sort of milestone for humanity, though I’m torn on it actually being a net win for our species.
Instant streaming video. Original TV shows and movies. This was the basic formula that pushed far too many companies to offer their own streaming solutions over the past decade. In the blink of an eye, we got HBO Max, Disney+, Apple TV+, Peacock, and Paramount+. There’s AMC+, powered almost entirely by the promise of unlimited Walking Dead shows. A Starz streaming service. And there are countless other companies trying to be a Netflix for specific niches, like Shudder for horror, Criterion Channel for cinephiles and Britbox for the tea-soaked murder-mystery crowd.
And let’s not forget the wildest, most boneheaded streaming swing: Quibi. That was Dreamworks mastermind Jeffrey Katzenberg’s nearly $2 billion mobile video play. Somehow he and his compatriots thought people would pay $5 a month for the privilege of watching videos on their phones, even though YouTube was freely available.
Every entertainment company thinks it can be as successful as Disney, which has a vast and beloved catalog of content as well as full control of Lucasfilm and Marvel’s properties. But, realistically, there aren’t enough eyeballs and willing consumers for every streaming service to succeed. Some will die off entirely, while others will bring their content to Netflix and more popular services (like Paramount is doing with Star Trek Prodigy). There are already early rumors of Comcast (NBCUniversal’s parent company) and Paramount considering some sort of union between Peacock and Paramount+.
Online video was supposed to save us from the tyranny of expensive and chaotic cable bills, and despite the messiness of the arena today, that’s still mostly true. Sure, if you actually wanted to subscribe to most of the major streaming services, you’d still end up paying a hefty chunk of change. But hey, at least you can cancel at will, and you can still choose precisely what you’re paying for. Cable would never.
It’s 2024, and I’m trying to watch a video on the internet. I slip on the Apple Vision Pro, a device that looks like it could have been a prop for The Matrix. I launch Safari in a 150-inch window floating above my living room and watch the Mortal Kombat trailer on YouTube. That whole process takes 10 seconds. I never had the chance to see the trailer or the original film in the theater. But thanks to the internet (and Apple’s crazy expensive headset), I can replicate that experience.
Perhaps that’s why, no matter how convoluted and expensive streaming video services become, I’ll always think: At least it’s better than watching this thing over dial-up.
To celebrate Engadget's 20th anniversary, we're taking a look back at the products and services that have changed the industry since March 2, 2004.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/streaming-video-changed-the-internet-forever-170014082.html?src=rss
It’s 1995, and I’m trying to watch a video on the internet. I entered the longest, most complex URL I’d ever seen into AOL’s web browser to view a trailer for Paul W.S. Anderson’s long-awaited film adaptation of Mortal Kombat. I found it in an issue of Electronic Gaming Monthly, tucked away in the bottom of a full-page ad for the film. Online marketing at the time was such an afterthought, studios didn’t even bother grabbing short and memorable web addresses for their major releases, let alone dedicated websites. (Star Trek Generations and Stargate were among the few early exceptions.)
After the interminable process of transcribing the URL from print, I gathered my family around our Packard Bell PC (powered by an Intel 486 DX and, let’s say, 8MB of RAM), hit return and waited as the video slowly came down our 33.6kbps dial-up connection. And waited. It took 25 minutes for it to fully load. After corralling my family once again, I hit play and was treated to an horrendously compressed, low-resolution version of the trailer I’d been dreaming about for months. It was unwatchable. The audio was shit. But that was the moment I became obsessed with online video.
I imagined a futuristic world beyond my boxy CRT set and limited cable TV subscription. A time after VHS tapes when I could just type in a URL and enjoy a show or movie while eating one of those rehydrated Pizza Hut pies from Back to the Future 2. The internet would make it so.
Looking back now, almost 30 years later, and 20 years after Engadget sprung to life, I realize my 11-year-old self was spot on. The rise of online video transformed the internet from a place where we’d browse the web, update our LiveJournals, steal music and chat with friends on AIM to a place where we could also just sit back and relax. For Millennials, it quickly made our computer screens more important than our TVs. What I didn’t expect, though, was that streaming video would also completely upend Hollywood and the entire entertainment industry.
If my experience with the Mortal Kombat trailer didn’t make it clear enough, video was a disaster on the internet in the ’90s. Most web surfers (as we were known as the time) were stuck with terribly slow modems and similarly unimpressive desktop systems. But really, the problem goes back to dealing with video on computers.
Apple’s Quicktime format made Macs the ideal platform for multimedia creators, and, together with its Hypercard software for creating interactive multimedia databases, it spawned the rise of Myst and the obsession with mixed-media educational software. PCs relied on MPEG-1, which debuted in 1993 and was mainly for VCDs and some digital TV providers. The problem with both formats was space: Hard drives were notoriously small and expensive at the time, which made CDs the main option for accessing any sort of video on your computer. If your computer only had a 500MB hard drive, a slim disc that could store 650MB seemed like magic.
But that also meant video had no place in the early internet. RealPlayer was the first true stab at delivering streaming video and audio online — and while it was better than waiting 20 minutes for a huge file to download, it was still hard to actually stream media when you were constrained by a dial-up modem. I remember seeing buffering alerts more than I did any actual RealPlayer content. It took the proliferation of broadband internet access and one special app from Adobe to make web video truly viable.
While we may curse its name today, it’s worth remembering how vital Macromedia Flash was to the web in the early 2000s. (We’ve been around long enough to cover Adobe’s acquisition of Macromedia in 2005!) Its support for vector graphics, stylized text and simple games injected new life into the internet, and it allowed just about anyone to create that content. HTML just wasn’t enough. Ask any teen or 20-something who was online at the time, and they could probably still recite most of The End of the World by heart.
With 2002’s Flash MX 6, Macromedia added support for Sorenson’s Spark video codec, which opened the floodgates for online video. (It was eventually replaced in 2005 by the VP6 codec from On2, a company Google acquired in 2009.) Macromedia’s video offering looked decent, loaded quickly and was supported on every browser that had the Flash plugin, making it the ideal player choice for video websites.
The adult entertainment industry latched onto Flash video first, as you’d expect. Porn sites also relied on the technology to lock down purchased videos and entice viewers to other sites with interactive ads. But it was YouTube (and, to a lesser extent, Vimeo) that truly showed mainstream users what was possible with video on the internet. After launching in February 2005, YouTube grew so quickly it was serving 100 million videos a day by July 2006, making up 60 percent of all online videos at the time. It’s no wonder Google rushed to acquire the company for $1.65 billion later that year (arguably the search giant’s smartest purchase ever).
After YouTube’s shockingly fast rise, it wasn’t too surprising to see Netflix announce its own Watch Now streaming service in 2007, which also relied on Flash for video. At $17.99 a month for 18 hours of video, with a library of only 1,000 titles, Netflix’s streaming offering didn’t seem like much of a threat to Blockbuster, premium cable channels or cinemas at first. But the company wisely expanded Watch Now to all Netflix subscribers in 2008 and removed any viewing cap: The Netflix binge was born.
It’s 2007, and I’m trying to watch a video on the internet. In my post-college apartment, I hooked up my desktop computer to an early-era (720p) Philips HDTV, and all of a sudden, I had access to thousands of movies, instantly viewable over a semi-decent cable connection. I didn’t need to worry about seeding torrents or compiling Usenet files (things I’d only heard about from dirty pirates, you see). I didn’t have to stress about any Blockbuster late fees. The movies were just sitting on my TV, waiting for me to watch them. It was the dream for digital media fanatics: Legal content available at the touch of a button. What a concept!
Little did I know then that the Watch Now concept would basically take over the world. Netflix initially wanted to create hardware to make the service more easily accessible, but it ended up spinning off that idea, and Roku was born. The company’s streaming push also spurred on the creation of Hulu, announced in late 2007 as a joint offering between NBCUniversal and News Corp. to bring their television shows online. Disney later joined, giving Hulu the full power of all the major broadcast TV networks. Instead of a stale library of older films, Hulu allowed you to watch new shows on the internet the day after they aired. Again, what a concept!
Amazon, it turns out, was actually earlier to the streaming party than Netflix. It launched the Amazon Unbox service in 2006, which was notable for letting you watch videos as they were being downloaded onto your computer. It was rebadged to Amazon Video On Demand in 2008 (a better name, which actually described what it did), and then it became Amazon Instant Video in 2011, when it was tied together with premium Prime memberships.
As the world of streaming video exploded, Flash’s reputation kept getting worse. By the mid-2000s, it was widely recognized as a notoriously buggy program, one so insecure it could lead to malware infecting your PC. (I worked in IT at the time, and the vast majority of issues I encountered on Windows PCs stemmed entirely from Flash.) When the iPhone launched without support for Flash in 2007, it was clear the end was near. YouTube and other video sites moved over to HTML5 video players at that point, and it became the standard by 2015.
By the early 2010s, YouTube and Amazon weren’t happy just licensing content from Hollywood, they wanted some of the action themselves. So the original programming boom began, which kicked off with mostly forgettable shows (anyone remember Netflix’s Lillyhammer or Amazon’s Alpha House? Hemlock Grove? They existed, I swear!).
But then came House of Cards in 2013, Netflix’s original series created by playwright Beau Willimon, executive produced (and partially directed) by renowned filmmaker David Fincher and starring Oscar winner Kevin Spacey (before he was revealed to be a monster). It had all of the ingredients of a premium TV show, and, thanks to Fincher’s deft direction, it looked like something that would be right at home on HBO. Most importantly for Netflix, it got some serious awards love, earning nine Emmy nominations in 2013 and walking away with three statues.
By that point, we could watch streaming video in many more places than our computer’s web browser. You could pull up just about anything on your phone and stream it over 4G LTE, or use your smart TV’s built-in apps to catch up on SNL over Hulu. Your Xbox could also serve as the centerpiece of your home entertainment system. And if you wanted the best possible streaming experience, you could pick up an Apple TV or Roku box. You could start a show on your phone while sitting on the can, then seamlessly continue it when you made your way back to your TV. This was certainly some sort of milestone for humanity, though I’m torn on it actually being a net win for our species.
Instant streaming video. Original TV shows and movies. This was the basic formula that pushed far too many companies to offer their own streaming solutions over the past decade. In the blink of an eye, we got HBO Max, Disney+, Apple TV+, Peacock, and Paramount+. There’s AMC+, powered almost entirely by the promise of unlimited Walking Dead shows. A Starz streaming service. And there are countless other companies trying to be a Netflix for specific niches, like Shudder for horror, Criterion Channel for cinephiles and Britbox for the tea-soaked murder-mystery crowd.
And let’s not forget the wildest, most boneheaded streaming swing: Quibi. That was Dreamworks mastermind Jeffrey Katzenberg’s nearly $2 billion mobile video play. Somehow he and his compatriots thought people would pay $5 a month for the privilege of watching videos on their phones, even though YouTube was freely available.
Every entertainment company thinks it can be as successful as Disney, which has a vast and beloved catalog of content as well as full control of Lucasfilm and Marvel’s properties. But, realistically, there aren’t enough eyeballs and willing consumers for every streaming service to succeed. Some will die off entirely, while others will bring their content to Netflix and more popular services (like Paramount is doing with Star Trek Prodigy). There are already early rumors of Comcast (NBCUniversal’s parent company) and Paramount considering some sort of union between Peacock and Paramount+.
Online video was supposed to save us from the tyranny of expensive and chaotic cable bills, and despite the messiness of the arena today, that’s still mostly true. Sure, if you actually wanted to subscribe to most of the major streaming services, you’d still end up paying a hefty chunk of change. But hey, at least you can cancel at will, and you can still choose precisely what you’re paying for. Cable would never.
It’s 2024, and I’m trying to watch a video on the internet. I slip on the Apple Vision Pro, a device that looks like it could have been a prop for The Matrix. I launch Safari in a 150-inch window floating above my living room and watch the Mortal Kombat trailer on YouTube. That whole process takes 10 seconds. I never had the chance to see the trailer or the original film in the theater. But thanks to the internet (and Apple’s crazy expensive headset), I can replicate that experience.
Perhaps that’s why, no matter how convoluted and expensive streaming video services become, I’ll always think: At least it’s better than watching this thing over dial-up.
To celebrate Engadget's 20th anniversary, we're taking a look back at the products and services that have changed the industry since March 2, 2004.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/streaming-video-changed-the-internet-forever-170014082.html?src=rss
This Saturday, on March 2, 2024, Engadget turns 20. Originally founded by Peter Rojas — you can read more about those early days here — the site has had eight editors-in-chief and, to my count, seven parent organizations to answer to. What started as a truly influential tech blog has morphed into a media organization aiming to break news, give no-BS buying advice and highlight the stories in tech that matter. We have written millions of words, we've won awards and we’ve somehow survived several media apocalypses. It’s been a ride — and if you’ve been with us since the start, we salute you.
To mark the occasion, our team has been thinking about how the tech industry has changed over the past two decades. At the heart of our anniversary package is a collection of over a dozen retrospectives of seminal gadgets and apps that did not exist 20 years ago, illustrated by the brilliant Koren Shadmi.
Engadget, believe it or not, is older than YouTube, the iPhone, Uber, WhatsApp, Android, Tesla EVs and countless other things that are a huge part of our lives today.
We planned to open this month of celebration with a letter from the editor, but last Friday, Engadget’s parent company laid off several people from our small team, including our editor-in-chief, Dana Wollman, and our managing editor, Terrence O’Brien.
Though the site does not yet have an editor-in-chief, we do have a strong leadership team that has collectively been at the site for decades. There is no way for things to be “business as usual,” but we are committed to pushing Engadget forward.
While it’s a bittersweet time to be celebrating an anniversary, the show must go on. Having edited Dana’s letter before it was due to be published, I want to take the opportunity to borrow her main talking points, which are more important to the remaining team than ever before:
People who love tech are still at the heart of this website. Though our masthead is smaller, this is no less true than it was at any point in the last 20 years — you just don’t get into tech journalism without caring about tech.
All of the stories you see on Engadget are written by human beings. Like all humans, we make mistakes sometimes. If you see a typo or even a misstated fact, you can blame the person behind the keyboard, not a robot.
So, happy birthday to us. We’re kicking things off with a look back at how streaming video changed the fabric of the internet. In the coming days and weeks we’ll have many more articles, including a guest post from Tim Stevens, our editor-in-chief from 2011-2013, on the legacy of the Tesla Model S. Stick around through March for plenty more stories and a heavy dose of nostalgia.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/engadget-is-turning-20-170005642.html?src=rss
This Saturday, on March 2, 2024, Engadget turns 20. Originally founded by Peter Rojas — you can read more about those early days here — the site has had eight editors-in-chief and, to my count, seven parent organizations to answer to. What started as a truly influential tech blog has morphed into a media organization aiming to break news, give no-BS buying advice and highlight the stories in tech that matter. We have written millions of words, we've won awards and we’ve somehow survived several media apocalypses. It’s been a ride — and if you’ve been with us since the start, we salute you.
To mark the occasion, our team has been thinking about how the tech industry has changed over the past two decades. At the heart of our anniversary package is a collection of over a dozen retrospectives of seminal gadgets and apps that did not exist 20 years ago, illustrated by the brilliant Koren Shadmi.
Engadget, believe it or not, is older than YouTube, the iPhone, Uber, WhatsApp, Android, Tesla EVs and countless other things that are a huge part of our lives today.
We planned to open this month of celebration with a letter from the editor, but last Friday, Engadget’s parent company laid off several people from our small team, including our editor-in-chief, Dana Wollman, and our managing editor, Terrence O’Brien.
Though the site does not yet have an editor-in-chief, we do have a strong leadership team that has collectively been at the site for decades. There is no way for things to be “business as usual,” but we are committed to pushing Engadget forward.
While it’s a bittersweet time to be celebrating an anniversary, the show must go on. Having edited Dana’s letter before it was due to be published, I want to take the opportunity to borrow her main talking points, which are more important to the remaining team than ever before:
People who love tech are still at the heart of this website. Though our masthead is smaller, this is no less true than it was at any point in the last 20 years — you just don’t get into tech journalism without caring about tech.
All of the stories you see on Engadget are written by human beings. Like all humans, we make mistakes sometimes. If you see a typo or even a misstated fact, you can blame the person behind the keyboard, not a robot.
So, happy birthday to us. We’re kicking things off with a look back at how streaming video changed the fabric of the internet. In the coming days and weeks we’ll have many more articles, including a guest post from Tim Stevens, our editor-in-chief from 2011-2013, on the legacy of the Tesla Model S. Stick around through March for plenty more stories and a heavy dose of nostalgia.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/engadget-is-turning-20-170005642.html?src=rss
The latest version of the Amazon Fire TV Stick 4K Max is on sale for $40, which matches the record low Black Friday price. The streaming stick normally sells for $60, so this is a discount of 33 percent.
This is the most advanced streaming stick Amazon has ever made. As the name suggests, it can easily handle 4K video, and it also supports Dolby Vision and HDR10+. The stick integrates with Wi-Fi 6E and boasts 16GB of internal storage, up from eight with the previous generation. There’s a new 2.0 GHz quad-core processor, on-device Alexa and a remote that gives you control over affiliated smart home devices.
This is also the first-ever streaming stick to feature Amazon’s AI Art feature. There’s a built-in image generation model, so you can set the screensaver to be, well, whatever you want. If the idea of a six-pawed cat eating a plate of slightly-off spaghetti doesn’t do it for you, the stick also allows access to more than 2,000 pieces of actual art for use as screensavers.
This is part of a larger Amazon sale on all of its various streaming devices, from sticks to actual televisions. Of note, the Amazon Fire TV Stick Lite has been discounted to $20, which nearly matches a record low price. The Fire TV Stick Lite made our list of the best streaming devices, thanks to its simple interface and support for all of the major streaming platforms.
This article originally appeared on Engadget at https://www.engadget.com/the-new-amazon-fire-tv-stick-4k-max-is-on-sale-for-a-record-low-of-40-164541303.html?src=rss