Yuna Okira doesn’t exist

In the 1970s, a curious trend emerged in the music world: the creation of entirely fictional artists with fully realised albums and backstories. Among the most fascinating examples are Yuna Okira, Habibi Habbas, and Ghalib Ghaboussi—names that continue to spark intrigue despite their lack of real-world counterparts. These fictional personas reflected the era’s penchant for experimentation and storytelling, laying the groundwork for the later rise of virtual idols and AI-generated musicians. To those concerned about the rise of AI musicians, this phenomenon reminds us that fictional artists are nothing new and have always been shaped by human creativity.

Yuna Okira was presented as a mysterious Japanese singer-songwriter whose music blended traditional melodies with contemporary styles. Her albums, adorned with evocative artwork and cryptic liner notes, gave listeners the impression of a deeply introspective and avant-garde artist. Despite her popularity among niche audiences, Okira was entirely a construct—the product of a collaborative effort by musicians and producers seeking to push creative boundaries.

Habibi Habbas, meanwhile, was imagined as an enigmatic Middle Eastern composer whose works fused orchestral arrangements with emerging electronic techniques. His albums often included fabricated interviews and elaborate narratives that added layers of mystique to his persona.

Ghalib Ghaboussi followed a similar path, embodying a fictional Iranian artist whose work captured the political and cultural tensions of the time through haunting, experimental compositions.

While the fictional artist trend thrived in niche circles, mainstream figures like David Bowie also dabbled in persona creation. Ziggy Stardust, Bowie’s alien rock star alter-ego, is perhaps the most famous example. However, unlike Yuna Okira or Habibi Habbas, Bowie’s creation was tied to a real performer, blending fiction with reality. Similarly, the Partridge Family and Bruce Willis’ alter-ego Bruno offered playful takes on fictional musicianship, though their personas were more lighthearted and commercial.

Fast forward to today, and the spirit of Yuna Okira and her contemporaries lives on in virtual idols and AI-generated musicians. The difference lies in the tools used to create them. Where the 70s relied on human imagination and analogue production, modern creators employ sophisticated algorithms and digital platforms to bring their fictional artists to life.

Hatsune Miku, a vocaloid software persona, and AI-generated characters like FN Meka continue the tradition of blending fiction with music. These modern iterations may seem groundbreaking, but they owe a significant debt to the cultural groundwork laid by artists like Okira, Habbas, and Ghaboussi. They demonstrate that the desire to craft compelling musical personas is timeless, adapting to new technologies while maintaining its core appeal.

The persistence of fictional artists underscores an important truth: cultural trends shape technological developments, not the other way around. The fictional artist trend of the 70s wasn’t driven by technological necessity but by a cultural hunger for storytelling and innovation. Similarly, today’s AI musicians are a response to enduring human desires for narrative and creativity.

Rather than disrupting the music industry, AI and virtual idols enrich it, expanding the possibilities for artistic expression. They build on the legacy of pioneers like Yuna Okira, showing that technology is a tool for enhancing cultural practices rather than redefining them.