We met at the car wash, and you sang a song you were excited about, hoping I’d help you record it.
Since I have a strong memory, I left you there and went on to record the song and released it. Yes, I stole your song; now prove it.
I could hear you clearly – even with that vacuum cleaner going through my car seats. I remember you telling me how you came up with this melody and kept singing it to yourself and in the bathroom. I loved the song immediately and started scheming in my head.
What made it easy is that you believed that just because you imagined it, you own it, but the law doesn’t care about your bathroom concerts. You performed it to only one person with a really good memory, and you can’t even prove it happened.
Out of frustration, you open a file with a lawyer to try to get your song back and get me to pay for my conniving acts. Now you must prove it.
Many songwriters and composers will listen to others advising them to always write or record their ideas on paper or even WhatsApp voice notes sent to themselves, but do they follow the advice? Very few do.
They shrug it off and turn to a similarly clueless friend, saying: “This one thinks he knows it all.”
Yes, maybe they do know more. They have failed and fell into the same trap they warn about. Successful people don’t always know how they got there, but the failed originals never forget why they failed. In other words, learn from those who still remember where the pits are so you can avoid the falls.
Let’s talk about how they do it. They’ve learnt to put the lyrics, chords and other notes onto paper as soon as the idea becomes clear in their heads. They would always note the date and place right at the top of that piece of paper.
Here in Namibia, you cannot just run to the Namibian Society of Composers and Authors of Music (Nascam) crying that somebody stole your hit.
Nascam’s job is to collect royalties for registered members, not to play judge and jury in a he-said, she-said street fight over an unrecorded melody.
If you want to protect your work, you need hard evidence. While copyright is automatic the moment a work takes material form, keeping a neat, documented catalogue of your creations makes you look like a professional, not a chancer trying to claim a piece of my pie.
For a musical work to actually have copyright protection in this country, it must be written down, recorded or otherwise reduced to what the law calls “material form”.
If you want to survive the brutal reality of the music business, you have to create a paper trail a lawyer can actually use.
First, get into the habit of creating a digital footprint before you sing your new banger to a producer at the car wash or share it in a studio session. Try recording a clear demo on your phone to keep as proof.
Sending that recording as a WhatsApp voice note to your own backup number is an okay start too, but you can lose that with all the “disappearing messages” settings.
A much stronger trail is to email that audio file, along with your typed lyrics, to your own email address. Do not delete that email. Leave it sitting in your inbox forever. That provides an exact, undeniable time stamp showing precisely when the song existed in your possession.
Stop expecting the system to just believe you because you look sad and sound passionate. The law deals in facts, dates and material proof.
So, until you learn to document your creativity, keep it to yourself.
There you have it.
I stole your song, now prove it’s yours! I dare you!
