The world we inhabited in 2019 was a different one. No one had heard of COVID-19, Roe v. Wade was law, and Taylor Swift was just one of the world's biggest pop stars, not the inescapable megawatt ruler of the culture that she is today.
It was that year that Swift revealed in an open letter that venture capitalist mogul Scooter Braun (who has recently lost several clients) had acquired her former label, thus owning the masters to the singer-songwriter's first six albums. Not two months later, she had come up with the brilliant plan to re-record those LPs as soon as her contract allowed for it in November of 2020.
Fast forward to now, and Swift's first four re-recordings — Fearless (Taylor's Version), Red (Taylor's Version), Speak Now (Taylor's Version) and 1989 (Taylor's Version) — have racked up an incalculable number of streams and dollars from dozens of different vinyl variants and era-specific merch. And that's not to mention the Eras Tour — or the film.
While raking in the dough from her re-recordings, the newly billionaire artist has simultaneously driven down the value of her original recordings, convincing sympathetic radio stations and sync placements to only use the new recordings of her tracks — and record companies are eager to prevent anything like this from ever happening again. Like, ever.
The major labels, Universal Music Group, Sony Music Entertainment and Warner Music Group, have recently overhauled contracts for new signees, asking artists to wait an unprecedented 10, 15 or even 30 years to re-record their releases after leaving a record company, Billboard reports. For decades, the industry standard has been that contracts state artists must wait for the latter of two periods for re-recording: five to seven years from the original release date, or two years after the contract's expiry.
Before the dawn of Taylor's Version, the concept of drawing fans to newly recorded versions of old releases was far from lucrative. As journalist Steve Knopper notes, Frank Sinatra re-recorded some of his big hits in the '60s, but more recently, new versions of chart-toppers from the likes of Squeeze and Def Leppard attained limited commercial success. Much of the shift can be attributed to Swift's framing of the situation, wherein her failure to re-obtain her original masters was a personal — and feminist — issue, accusing Braun of "incessant, manipulative bullying."
"Obviously, this is a big headline topic — the Taylor Swift thing," Gandhar Savur, attorney for Jeff Rosenstock, Built to Spill and Cigarettes After Sex, told Billboard. "Labels, of course, are going to want to do whatever they can to address that and to prevent it. But there's only so much they can do. Artist representatives are going to push back against that, and a certain standard is ingrained in our industry that is not easy to move away from."
Despite the fact that "the contracts have gotten reasonably artist-friendly over time," according to longtime music attorney Don Passman, "they don't want you to duplicate your recordings — like ever — and then they will limit the other types of recordings you can do."
Of course, most smaller artists have more modest goals when it comes to reviving old material. Josh Binder, who represents an attorney who represents SZA, Gunna, Doechii and Marshmello, emphasized that Swift's case is a rare one: "It doesn't offend me so much. Rarely does it come into play where the re-record treatment is even used," he told Knopper. "[The labels'] position is, 'Hey, if we're going to spend a bunch of money creating this brand with you, then you should not try and create records to compete with us.' We try and fight it. We try and make it as short as possible. But I don't find it to be the most compelling issue to fight."
In response to the Billboard report, a spokesperson for UMG said the label does not comment on legal agreements. They also pointed to a Wall Street Journal article reporting that the company had made changes to the contracts — including an alleged 10-year waiting period, increased royalties and other artist benefits — before Swift's re-recording project.
Either way, what originally seemed like an important, powerful stance taken about artistic ownership has certainly spiralled, likely far beyond anything Swift imagined in her wildest dreams. Now, other artists are left to deal with the contractual repercussions.
It was that year that Swift revealed in an open letter that venture capitalist mogul Scooter Braun (who has recently lost several clients) had acquired her former label, thus owning the masters to the singer-songwriter's first six albums. Not two months later, she had come up with the brilliant plan to re-record those LPs as soon as her contract allowed for it in November of 2020.
Fast forward to now, and Swift's first four re-recordings — Fearless (Taylor's Version), Red (Taylor's Version), Speak Now (Taylor's Version) and 1989 (Taylor's Version) — have racked up an incalculable number of streams and dollars from dozens of different vinyl variants and era-specific merch. And that's not to mention the Eras Tour — or the film.
While raking in the dough from her re-recordings, the newly billionaire artist has simultaneously driven down the value of her original recordings, convincing sympathetic radio stations and sync placements to only use the new recordings of her tracks — and record companies are eager to prevent anything like this from ever happening again. Like, ever.
The major labels, Universal Music Group, Sony Music Entertainment and Warner Music Group, have recently overhauled contracts for new signees, asking artists to wait an unprecedented 10, 15 or even 30 years to re-record their releases after leaving a record company, Billboard reports. For decades, the industry standard has been that contracts state artists must wait for the latter of two periods for re-recording: five to seven years from the original release date, or two years after the contract's expiry.
Before the dawn of Taylor's Version, the concept of drawing fans to newly recorded versions of old releases was far from lucrative. As journalist Steve Knopper notes, Frank Sinatra re-recorded some of his big hits in the '60s, but more recently, new versions of chart-toppers from the likes of Squeeze and Def Leppard attained limited commercial success. Much of the shift can be attributed to Swift's framing of the situation, wherein her failure to re-obtain her original masters was a personal — and feminist — issue, accusing Braun of "incessant, manipulative bullying."
"Obviously, this is a big headline topic — the Taylor Swift thing," Gandhar Savur, attorney for Jeff Rosenstock, Built to Spill and Cigarettes After Sex, told Billboard. "Labels, of course, are going to want to do whatever they can to address that and to prevent it. But there's only so much they can do. Artist representatives are going to push back against that, and a certain standard is ingrained in our industry that is not easy to move away from."
Despite the fact that "the contracts have gotten reasonably artist-friendly over time," according to longtime music attorney Don Passman, "they don't want you to duplicate your recordings — like ever — and then they will limit the other types of recordings you can do."
Of course, most smaller artists have more modest goals when it comes to reviving old material. Josh Binder, who represents an attorney who represents SZA, Gunna, Doechii and Marshmello, emphasized that Swift's case is a rare one: "It doesn't offend me so much. Rarely does it come into play where the re-record treatment is even used," he told Knopper. "[The labels'] position is, 'Hey, if we're going to spend a bunch of money creating this brand with you, then you should not try and create records to compete with us.' We try and fight it. We try and make it as short as possible. But I don't find it to be the most compelling issue to fight."
In response to the Billboard report, a spokesperson for UMG said the label does not comment on legal agreements. They also pointed to a Wall Street Journal article reporting that the company had made changes to the contracts — including an alleged 10-year waiting period, increased royalties and other artist benefits — before Swift's re-recording project.
Either way, what originally seemed like an important, powerful stance taken about artistic ownership has certainly spiralled, likely far beyond anything Swift imagined in her wildest dreams. Now, other artists are left to deal with the contractual repercussions.
