Crypto news

Web3 Creators: How To Lose Friends, Alienate Artists, And (Not) Sell NFTs

BBG News

In the not-so-fabled land of the internet—where memes roam wild, and fortunes are lost quicker than a wizard’s hat in a stiff breeze—Zora had built itself quite the mystical bazaar. For artists, musicians, and those intrepid few with more creativity than common sense, Zora was a place to trade fragments of souls (or at least, onchain JPEGs) for a bit of digital coin. All was well, until someone decided to launch the ZORA token.

Now, launching a token in Web3 is a little like opening a restaurant and forgetting to tell the chef, the patrons, or even the mayor with the comically large scissors. The ZORA token hit the market in true Pratchettian style: i.e., with chaos, confusion, and a price drop sturdy enough to shatter a dwarfish anvil. No one announced the launch until two hours after trading started. Social media, ever the compassionate and balanced voice of reason, exploded in a chorus of, “Wait, what?” and “Where’s my airdrop?”

The token price plummeted from $0.037 to $0.017 faster than a wizard can say “don’t try this at home.” Last we checked, it was being measured in micro-magic beans. Users discovered the tokenomics: 45% for the mysterious wizards (a.k.a. the team and investors), 25% for the treasury, 20% for “community incentives” (which probably involves sharing leftover party snacks), and just 10% for the poor mortals hoping for an airdrop. This is the sort of distribution that would make even Ankh-Morpork’s Guild of Accountants say, “Hang on, that doesn’t add up.”

Zora said the ZORA token was “for fun only,” which, in crypto, is code for “it might not do anything, but if it does, we’ll let you know after it’s too late.” Following an outpouring of feedback (read: rants), Zora announced on May 1 the token would do… something. Maybe. Check back after the next airdrop. Still, some creators cheered: “Money is money, even if it arrives while you’re scratching your head.” Others just applauded not getting completely snubbed. It’s a low bar, but at least someone found it.

Take Vérité, an early Web3 adopter who’s streamed more music than you’ve had hot dinners, for example. She’s just happy for early rewards and doesn’t know the Zora team from Clan Splat. But hey, new models for digital value can’t be worse than the old ones, which had all the charm and grace of a rabid hedgehog in a ball pit.

When NFTs Are the New Prawn Cocktail—Tasty Once, Underwhelming Forever After 🍤

The latest shift in Web3’s absurdist theatre? Zora pivoted from NFTs to “content coins,” sometimes called memecoins, the internet’s answer to, “What do you get if you cross financial nihilism and a cat picture?” Every post now spawns a memecoin, and creators get 1% of the supply and half of all trading and liquidity fees. The presses don’t print money anymore; they print memes, which in fairness is more lucrative than journalism these days.

Adam Levy, host of the Mint podcast, called it “the Gen Z brain rot type of creator model.” He meant it affectionately, or perhaps simply accurately. The previous NFT gold rush—music, art, ironic alpaca selfies—has fizzled, and creators are pivoting faster than a Discworld politician caught in a truth spell. Platform builders have wised up, too: Sound.xyz is now Vault, using blockchain on the backend where no one can see it, much like a wizard social experiment best left unspoken.

David Greenstein of Sound mused that NFTs stopped being about the art and started being about speculation—a twist that absolutely no one saw coming, except anyone who has seen the inside of a casino.

Vérité and Latashá, both veterans of the blockchain circus, seem to agree: “Speculation is fun till the rug gets pulled.” Once the market cooled, so did the bravado. Latashá pointed out that jargon and insular communities boxed everyone in. Apparently, “community” is only fun until it starts looking suspiciously like a very expensive book club.

So, What Next? More Comedy or a Magical Comeback? 🧙‍♂️✨

The creative masses aren’t giving up on blockchain… they’re just pretending it’s not there. Vérité learned you can’t force idealism onto the market, which, in Web3, is heresy. She’s moved past flogging NFTs to fans; the discerning connoisseur prefers their JPEGs delivered with plausible deniability.

Levy, ever the optimist (or perhaps just a glutton for punishment), still believes in NFTs. He says, “I’ve tasted the sugar.” As any wizard would tell you, tasting random substances is generally a poor life choice, but hope springs eternal.

“I don’t think it’s just a fad… And I know there’s a better way to create content on the internet and to monetize on the internet.”

Meanwhile, Run The Jewels offer onchain “JWL points,” cleverly hidden behind a FAQ. You’d have a better chance of finding the secret ingredient in Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler’s pies than finding an explicit mention of “blockchain.”

There’s general agreement that wallets remain a dark art best practiced in a hidden alley at midnight. Renata Lowenbraun of Infanity believes once wallets become accessible—as if by magic—all will change. For now, artists are forging their own platforms, learning that depending on a platform is a bit like asking the Patrician for a small favor: “Sure, but what will it cost me?”

“From 2021 to 2024, we were really dependent on platforms. […] If this is really about building something different, it’s going to have to come from us.”

The future of the Web3 creator economy? There’ll be bumps, potholes, and possibly the occasional troll lurking under a cyber-bridge, but isn’t that half the fun? The only real certainty is this: in blockchain, a sense of humor is your strongest asset, right after plausible deniability and an encyclopedic knowledge of cat memes. 😸

Read More

2025-05-03 17:23

Previous post Holly Ramsay Stuns in Lace Bra While Christian Horner Attends F1 Bash Solo—Where’s Geri?
Next post Elden Ring Nightreign Overview Trailer Brings 10 Minutes of New Gameplay Footage