Politicians keep using songs on social media. What if an artist doesn't like it?

It became the inescapable soundtrack of the summer: the uplifting melody of Jess Glynne's 2015 dance-pop hit "Hold My Hand," followed by a chirpy voice declaring that nothing beats a Jet2 holiday.

Over the last few months, the British travel agency's advertisement has become a viral TikTok sound, serving as the ironic backdrop for millions of things-gone-terribly-wrong style disaster videos. The clips range from rainwater flooding the New York City subway to elephants attacking tourists in Thailand. A decade after its release, Glynne's song has found a new life as a meme meant to capture a universal feeling of chaos and unruliness despite all good intentions.

In July, the White House joined the trend, posting a video of the viral sound synced to footage of handcuffed men being escorted onto a plane. "When ICE books you a one-way Jet2 holiday to deportation. ✈️🎶," reads the caption. "Nothing beats it!"

The backlash was swift. Within days, both Glynne and voice actress Zoe Lister, who narrates the advertisement, condemned the White House's video. "This post honestly makes me sick," Glynne wrote on social media. Representatives for Glynne did not respond to NPR's request for comment. Since then, the Jet2 audio has been disabled from the White House's Instagram post, though it remains active on X. Having a song go viral is usually good news for an artist, but as politicians become more social media savvy and jump in on viral trends, how can musicians respond if they don't like the way a party or administration uses their song online?

Music and politics have changed 

The relationship between music and politics goes back to the early days of American democracy. When George Washington was running for office, his supporters changed the lyrics of popular songs into campaign jingles. Dozens of candidates have relied on songs at rallies and in television advertisements, both of which tend to require special licenses for usage. But Jennifer Jenkins, a professor at Duke University specializing in intellectual property law and cultural production, says politics and music have changed a lot in the 21st century. Both, she says, have become increasingly commercialized.

Whereas Franklin Delano Roosevelt used "Happy Days Are Here Again" to promote a message of hope and unity during the Great Depression, Jenkins says today's song usage by politicians tends to be less straightforward — especially on social media.

"That's a very different message than now, when a politician is using music in connection with consultants to build their brand and to cultivate a particular image," Jenkins says. "[Musicians] themselves are also brands and they don't want to see themselves connected with something that they find objectionable, offensive, abhorrent."

In many European countries, authors' rights include not only financial protections for the reproduction of their work, but also "moral rights." In France, for example, moral rights are perpetual and allow musicians the right to object to modifications that challenge the integrity of their work. In the U.S., copyright law operates primarily within an economic framework. The question is more about when musicians should be paid for their work than whether or not their values align with said usage.

Copyright infringement and fair use

If a politician uses a song without permission, the first step artists can take is to request that the post be taken down, says Jenkins. Under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA), social media platforms are obligated to remove content infringing on copyright — though there are exceptions for fair use on a case-by-case basis, such as for criticism or educational purposes.

"Just like the First Amendment, fair use doesn't just protect speech that we like," says Jenkins. "One of the key things about fair use is that we don't get to make rules that only favor commentary that we like or commentary that aligns with our political values. The law is supposed to be agnostic about the particular commentary."

In July, the Department of Homeland Security posted a video on Instagram of Homeland Security Director Kristi Noem on an aerial patrol with Customs and Border Protection agents. The clip included text of a Bible scripture and featured Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's cover of the folk song "God's Gonna Cut You Down" playing in the background. Within days, the rock band responded with their own post.

"It's obvious that you don't respect Copyright Law and Artist Rights any more than you respect Habeas Corpus and Due Process rights, not to mention the separation of Church and State per the US Constitution," BRMC wrote. "For the record, we hereby order @dhsgov to cease and desist the use of our recording and demand that you immediately pull down your video."

The audio has since been disabled on the DHS Instagram post. Jenkins says cease and desist letters are often one of the first avenues to address unauthorized song usage on social media — but if the offending party doesn't comply, artists may have grounds for further legal action.

In 2020, singer Eddy Grant filed a copyright lawsuit against Donald Trump for sharing a video on X that included his song "Electric Avenue." The animated clip featured a "Trump-Pence 2020" train speeding past a slow-moving trolley being hand-pumped by Joe Biden. Trump's attorneys tried to argue the video qualified for "transformative" fair use, suggesting it significantly altered the meaning of the original song. But Judge John Koeltl rejected the fair use claim, saying "Electric Avenue" did not play a major role in the video's satirical message. Trump and Grant settled the lawsuit last year for an undisclosed amount.

Licensing on social media 

If an artist doesn't own the copyright to their song — or if the song is used via properly licensed channels — their options are more limited. Platforms like Meta and TikTok often reach agreements with rightsholders in order to curate music libraries of already-licensed songs for personal use. On Instagram, commercial accounts must use Meta's Sound Collection, which includes thousands of royalty-free songs. On TikTok, business and creator accounts can access the Commercial Music Library for any songs and sounds they'd like to play over ads or branded content. But TikTok places additional restrictions on government, politician and political party accounts, often requiring them to obtain permission from the original copyright holder. (TikTok's copyright infringement policy also encourages rightsholders to try to resolve the matter directly with the user before filing a DMCA compliant notification).

Legal recourse in these cases is trickier. Jeanne Fromer, a professor of intellectual property law at New York University, says musicians often resort to the court of public opinion.

"Sometimes just bringing this up will shame a politician to stop using it," Fromer says. "They won't want the negative press associated with it, or that the musician doesn't support them."

Last year, the official Team Trump TikTok account celebrated Trump's election victory with a photo carousel soundtracked by Olivia Rodrigo's song "deja vu," which TikTok users can use via the Commercial Music Library. Rodrigo, who had endorsed Kamala Harris, allegedly commented on the post and temporarily removed the song from the platform following Trump's usage. (At the time of publication, the song "deja vu" is available on TikTok and remains on the Team Trump post, and neither TikTok or representatives for Rodrigo responded to NPR's requests for comment.)

Regardless of what actually transpired, fans quickly praised Rodrigo for the alleged comment. Jenkins and Fromer say oftentimes, an artist's public image can benefit simply from taking a stance against the politician's usage. But in the case of Jess Glynne and the Jet2 advertisement, the meme of it all makes the copyright applications more complicated.

Memes fundamentally turn copyright law on its head, says Fromer; instead of trying to prevent unauthorized copies, the entire point is to decentralize the original creator and repeat the format with as many new applications as possible. Under the law, memes could potentially make an argument for "transformative" fair use, and they also make selective enforcement against politicians more challenging.

"It's the currency of the way we talk now," Fromer says. "If you're the only one excluded from that currency, that feels really hard in terms of speech. So there are weighty interests on both sides."

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