Melody Makers: Right, Ghulam Mohammed’s son Masood Ghulam Mohammed and grandson Sajjad Ali
at their residence
No more lopsided contracts. Musicians want their copyright.
Artistes Are Against…
Unfair Contracts: Music composers and lyricists have to assign their worldwide rights in perpetuity to the film producers who in turn sell these rights to music companies at a hefty price. Artistes get one-time remuneration but are denied the long-term royalties.
Ringtone Revenues: The new stream of ring back, hello tune, caller tune and music-on-demand revenues are growing exponentially. But the composers and lyricists are not
getting a penny; the music companies and mobile service providers share the booty.
The IPRS, formed to collect performance royalties for lyricists and composers, has been taken over by music companies, they allege.
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| Music Lives: Salil Choudhury’s son Sanjoy |
Sanjoy is a cynical man. The son of legendary music composer Salil Chaudhury gives background score in Bollywood, with hits like Jab We Met, All The Best and A Wednesday to his credit. Sitting in his unpretentious music room in suburban Oshiwara, he remembers the time when his late father had to sell off their upmarket Peddar Road flat to move into a rented accommodation in Calcutta. “He had gone broke post-retirement,” he says and then adds rather tellingly: “But his music is still bought, played and heard.” Consider songs like Suhana safar from Madhumati or Zindagi kaisi hai paheli from Anand, and you know it’s true. But such perennial favourites could get minimal returns for the man who created them.
It’s ironical that in the Hindi film music industry, the greatest of talents haven’t been able to reap the benefits of their creativity. They may leave behind an enviable body of work but it gets them and their descendants no assured, long-term financial benefits. “If his music were an investment, my father should have lived like a king,” says Sanjoy. “But he is just an archive, a piece of history.”
One of the reasons for this problem is the lopsided contracts signed with producers and music companies, which force composers and lyricists to give up their rights, thereby losing out on royalties as well. “Michael Jackson lived in Neverland with just 10-14 albums behind him. My father composed for 78 films but lived an ordinary life,” says Masood Ghulam Mohammed, son of yesteryear’s popular composer Ghulam Mohammed. “Majrooh saab wrote 4,000 songs. Ideally he should have owned an island,” says Andaleeb Sultanpuri, son of the legendary lyricist Majrooh.

Plight Of The Old-Timesrs
Mubarak Begum, who gave us songs like Kabhi tanhaiyon mein yoon humari yaad aayegi, Bemurravat bewafa begana-e-dil aap hain and Mujhko apne gale laga lo ai mere humrahi, now lives in a shabby, 500 sq feet flat, given by the state government, in Behram Baug, Jogeshwari. She gets a monthly pension of Rs 700 from the government and her crammed place houses, besides herself, her Parkinson-afflicted daughter, her son and his family. There is no space to display old pictures or the awards and trophies and no one to give an ear to her sonorous melody.
The worst hit, obviously, are musicians from the past, quite a few of them, like singer Mubarak Begum, living in penury. “The music of the ’60s and ’70s is evergreen but the artistes had no money to live by after they stopped working,” says lyricist-writer Javed Akhtar. “It’s rare that creative people get the right remuneration for their creations. Moreover, artistes have no PF or pension schemes. It’s only fair that after retirement they and their families should at least be part beneficiaries of the artistes’ work, especially when others continue to earn from it. Worldwide that’s the way artistes survive,” says lyricist Prasoon Joshi.
| | | | A radio station claims it pays Rs 3,000 an hour for music copyright. Do artistes get even a fraction of this corpus? | | | | |
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But forget material benefits, even for performing their own songs on stage the artistes need to seek the music label’s permission. The contract binds them to transfer and assign “100 per cent” rights in perpetuity, worldwide to the music companies. The rights are assigned for all forms of “communication, transmission, reproduction and exploitation”, even a mode that may be “discovered and invented in the future”, that too anywhere in the universe. “It’s like cutting off our hands and feet,” says composer Aadesh Srivastava. “They have ensured they could, in the future, be playing our work on the moon without us getting any benefits from it,” says artiste Shubha Mudgal and long-term champion of the copyright cause. “They are forcing us to give up on our asset, evicting us from our own property,” says composer Anand of the Anand-Milind duo.

From left, Pyarelal, Javed and Aadesh
According to the recent KPMG survey of the Indian entertainment industry, the music industry is worth US $151 million and is set to grow to US $216 m by 2013. Of this, film music accounts for 60-65 per cent share, a substantial chunk for the companies to exercise control on. The argument of the companies is simple, take it or leave it. An individual is free not to sign a commercial contract if he or she finds it unfair. Moreover, the music companies justify the arrangement on grounds of high cost of acquisition of film soundtracks (running into several crores) and hence the high commercial risk involved.
Individually, some composers and lyricists with clout have been demanding a share of the music rights. A.R. Rahman is one of the first to have challenged the system and is rumoured to have turned down big projects like Om Shanti Om and Taare Zameen Par because he was not being given his fair share. “Every now and then we put our foot down but it’s difficult to fight an established practice,” says Vishal Dadlani of the Vishal-Shekhar duo. Quite often ignorance, financial constraints and the pressing need for work leave artistes with no other choice. “It’s sophisticated bonded labour,” says Akhtar. There is also the fear of ostracisation by the powerful producers and music companies.
Musicians of yore have been infamous for their lack of understanding of these power games. Composer Pyarelal remembers how it was all an informal arrangement. “We were simple people. Sometimes if the producer was happy with our work he would gift us a car,” he says. “We used to sign vouchers rather than any formal contracts,” says Akhtar. Those feudal practices continue in a different manner in today’s corporate dealings. But, a need for change is being felt. “If we have to do business in an international music market, we have to understand and evolve accordingly,” says popular lyricist Sameer.
The composers-lyricists in Bollywood have come together to fight against what they see as “fascist” practices. They have woken up to the immense possibility of monetising their work and retaining their right over it. They want to retain moral, unwaivable, unassignable, non-transferable, inalienable and perpetual rights to their works. Such a definitive change is possible, they believe, if they take a legislative route and seek suitable amendments to the Copyright Act of 1957.
One of the immediate provocations for composers-lyricists to assert themselves is the burgeoning ringtone revenues from which they are being denied their share. While the physical sale of music, in the form of CDs and cassettes, has been going down, new avenues like FM, internet, digital formats etc are opening up. A major source of revenue is the ringtone market. The earnings estimated to be Rs 10 crore in 2003-04 are now reported to run into hundreds of crores. This secondary revenue, which was being distributed to the artistes till 2004 through the Indian Performing Right Society, is now being pocketed entirely by the music companies.
Which has raised the artistes’ ire against IPRS as well. This copyright society was formed in 1969 to collect royalties (accrued through performance of the music in planes, hotels, events, television and radio etc, not physical sale of music) for artistes, both in India and abroad. In 1993 music companies became its members and an MoU was signed whereby they got 50 per cent of the performing rights while 30 per cent went to composers and 20 per cent to lyricists.
While people like Andaleeb Sultanpuri feel it’s the only body doing something good for the artistes, a majority of musicians allege that it’s being mismanaged by music companies. “IPRS is being run by the record labels in their own interest,” says Vishal. “It’s our body, our society but someone else is wielding power,” says Aadesh. They allege lack of transparency in administration and accounting of royalties. “They’re the raja and we’re the praja. Envelopes are doled out on ad hoc basis,” says music composer Raju Singh. A few like Javed Akhtar have withdrawn from IPRS for international rights and are allowing it to administer only their India rights.
IPRS CEO Rakesh Nigam is indifferent to the charges. His take is clear: “The society is run in accordance with Section 33, 34 and 35 of the Copyright Act of 1957.” The ownership of the music rests with the music companies and if they are not willing to share (regarding ringtone revenues specifically) rights with the artistes he can do little to intervene. “Our hands are tied in terms of manoeuverability. I can administer the rights if you prove the ownership but I can’t decide on who the owner is. If the artistes show me a legal order saying they have the rights, I will administer it for them,” he says. “Moreover, the 50 per cent revenue given to composers and authors doesn’t establish their rights or ownership. According to the 1993 MoU, it is given by the companies ‘in the interest of giving them encouragement’,” he states.
Beyond this ugly and complicated infighting, there are other issues at stake. For instance, the efficacy and transparency of the modes of collection and distribution of performance royalties. A radio station claims to be doling out Rs 3,000 an hour for music copyright amounting to about Rs 80,000 a day. Does that big corpus seep down to the artistes? Music played in the urban areas would be well accounted for but how do you keep tabs on what gets played in mofussil towns? Clearly, a proper system needs to be put in place to tidy the world of copyrights and royalties and the ongoing fight over contracts and ringtone royalties could well be the impetus for bringing about some much-needed, far-reaching changes.