Of Departed Icons and Enduring Legacies: Why the Music Must Be Protected
By The Jide Taiwo
A few years ago, I ran into a Nigerian music legend at a non-Nigerian airport. Perhaps, ‘run into’ is not the correct phrase to use, as he didn’t run into me; I saw him and ran to greet him. His music was the soundtrack of my childhood, and I’d grown up to learn of the extent of his superstardom, particularly in the early 1990s. We both had a few hours to kill, so I stayed with him, revelling in the fact that I was next to this icon, unencumbered by his retinue of aides, assistants, and handlers, and me unpressured by the necessity of an interview or a deadline—it was enough to sit in incognito mode, watching passengers speed by for their departing flights as we counted down to ours.
At some point, I asked him about a certain album of his and why it wasn’t on streaming services.For one, he wasn’t entirely clear about what music streaming platforms did, but that didn’t startle me: after all, he was a 50+ man at the time, heading towards the age of 60, and this was the early days of music streaming. What alarmed me, however, was his reply that he didn’t know who, for a fact, owned the rights to that particular album. It had gone through several managers, music executives, ‘friends’ and associates that he no longer knew which records made up for whatever he got whenever he asked his business manager for royalties. But as he still got contracted for live shows and owambe multiple times a month, he didn’t exactly care for things like that. That jarred me. (By the way, the record in question has since been uploaded on YouTube, albeit in a grainy, evidently overdubbed video format.
A random user published it on there, and it’s doubtful that my legend even knows that it exists, let alone who owns it on the internet.)That same year, a California court ruled that Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke infringed on the copyright of Marvin Gaye’s 1977 song Got To Give It Up and ordered the younger singer to pay $5 million to the estate of Gaye, who died in 1984. Similarly, in 2019, Arianna Grande released 7 Rings, a song that went on to sell 13 million units, topped the charts in 23 countries, and ultimately became the fifth best-selling song of that year. But that’s not the real story: the juice is that Grande only gets 10% of the royalties due to her for the widely successful record.
As the song interpolates part of My Favorite Things, a soundtrack of the 1959 classic film The Sound of Music, 90% of the royalties go to the estate of Oscar Hammerstein II (died 1960) and Richard Rodgers (died 1979), songwriters of the song. These are not peculiar cases: in more advanced markets, publishing, mechanical, performance, and digital performance rights are a major component of the music and recording business, even when the original composers or rights owners are deceased. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be the same in this part of the world either.
The rise of digital listening and distribution services such as music streaming apps and the signing of a fair number of today’s current stars to international record companies has shone a light on the importance of proper management of the rights. The ownership of these rights is another matter, but the point is, with the rise of modern Nigerian music and all its facets that include young entertainment lawyers and skilled managers, it’s only artistes who do not want to know that they do not know.
For practitioners of older, indigenous genres like Fuji, the case is different. I was enamoured with a particular performer’s set at the Fuji Vibrations concert in December 2021 (which I hosted courtesy of Fuji: A Opera), so I met him backstage to enquire about how to find and share his music. He said one could only find CDs of him in his hometown, where he lived and worked.For older and dearly departed musicians, the situation is even more dire. There are thousands, if not millions, of songs on YouTube, published by (at best) fans who want to share the music with the world and more by individuals who have practically no connection to the musician or their estates.
Case in point: Fuji Music and its progenitor, Chief Dr. Sikiru Ayinde Barrister. The icon passed away fifteen years ago, but even before his demise, the genre he invented had travelled farther than he himself did (and the man was widely travelled!) More importantly, his work raised generations of Fuji acts from the 1960s till date. Yet, one cannot say definitively that the revenue accruing from his work via streaming apps or record shops has gotten to his estate as it should be over the years. By being the creator of a specific genre, he is comparable to Lil’ Richard or James Brown.
In 2021, Brown’s musical assets—comprising publishing, name and likeness rights, and master income streams—were sold by his estate to a publishing and management company for $90 million. Could you imagine if all of Barrister’s rights belonged to his estate—and it could generate income for them and deploy his life’s work in a plethora of ways?And it’s not because the man didn’t try. After his departure from African Songs/TYC Limited (the same record label that King Sunny Ade fought bitterly and won), Barrister ensured that he owned his rights and created record labels and publishing companies (Siky Oluyole Records, Barry Black Music) to ensure that unlike the first few records of his that are owned by African Songs that Chief Bolarinwa Abioro’s children refused to release or sell back till date, his music never again got ‘lost’.
Right now, these records are not lost, but they’re certainly floating on the internet and different people’s flash drives as though they were. That’s not right. It is also not too late to rectify it in a coordinated way. Which is why I was happy to see that SONY Music Publishing Nigeria announced a publishing deal with the estate of Barrister. The timing could not have been more perfect. Prior to now, it appeared that there was no seemingly deliberate effort to harmonize all of the various rights that belonged to the musician post his demise. I noticed about a year ago, though, that many of his music videos that were domiciled on a number of YouTube channels for one, had been taken down and official social media handles had been opened in their stead. That’s a good start.
A global company like SONY Music getting into play is even better. By securing a publishing deal with the estate, it is in the right position to take the music and legacy of Barrister further.By partnering with SONY Music Publishing, the estate gains access to a robust platform that can enhance the global reach of Barrister’s music. This partnership opens doors to new opportunities, such as licensing his songs for films, commercials, and digital platforms, ensuring that his work remains relevant and accessible in today’s fast-evolving (and, to be frank, lucrative) music landscape.
Furthermore, this deal could facilitate the creation of tribute albums, remixes, or collaborations with contemporary artistes, breathing new life into his classic compositions and introducing them to wider, younger, and newer audiences.To maximize the revenue potential of this publishing deal, the estate might consider pursuing several strategic initiatives. For instance, they could explore the development of a comprehensive digital archive of Barrister’s works, offering remastered tracks, exclusive live performances, and unreleased material to fans and collectors.
Additionally, curating a series of documentaries or biographical content that highlights his contributions to Fuji music could attract attention from streaming platforms and educational institutions. Similarly, collaborating with current Afrobeats and Fuji artists on reinterpretations of his songs could not only pay homage to Barrister’s legacy but also create cross-generational appeal, further expanding his influence and ensuring that his music continues to generate revenue for decades to come. It is heartwarming to see that the estate is taking the lead on these initiatives. The inherent possibilities are limitless. Fela Anikulapo Kuti died a full thirteen years before Barrister, but it is almost impossible to use his name and likeness in a commercial venture and not have to license it from its estate.
From French President Emmanuel Macron and Kenyan academic Patrick Lumumba, the annual Felabration has attracted attendees from all over the world. Folks like myself who have worked on the event from marketing and sponsorship standpoints can safely guesstimate what it brings in in dollars and cents. However, beyond financial benefits, the cultural significance is priceless: in 2009, Jay Z, Will and Jada Pinkett Smith served as co-producers of the Fela! Broadway musical that won two Tony awards.We could do the same—and more—for Barrister’s legacy.
Imagine a Netflix documentary on Barrister. Imagine a designation of his home, the iconic Fuji Chamber, as a Federal Government-approved museum. Imagine a remix of Fuji Extravanagza by Asake. Imagine a biopic. Imagine a line of fashion gear. Imagine a remastering of Fuji Garbage and entering it for a Grammy nomination. Imagine all the imaginables…However, it cannot be random or by accident. Evidently, he remains well-loved and fondly remembered fifteen years after his passing. It is incumbent upon us all: well-wishers, aficionados, and most importantly, the estate, to ensure that undeserving individuals and corporations with no vested interest could not step into any gap and reap where Sikiru Ayinde Ololade Balogun, Mr. Fuji, had sown.
Getting SONY to be a part of that process of journey through this publishing deal is a right step in the Barrister-would-be-happy direction.
The Jide Taiwo is a Lagos-based writer and media practitioner. He’s the author of History Made: The Most Important Nigerian Songs Since 1999, E File Fun Burna: The Incredible Stagecraft of Burna Boy, host of Fuji: A Opera Xpress, producer of Mr. Fuji Podcast and author of the forthcoming book, K1 De Ultimate: A Legacy Secured.
