When I first moved to San Francisco, the minimum number of musicians required for a traveling Pamphlet B Broadway show was 16. That number mattered. If a production didn’t need that many musicians, the company was still required to pay “walking checks” to make up the difference. In other words, if you benefited from the city’s theaters, audiences, and cultural infrastructure, you also bore responsibility for supporting its professional musicians.

That system wasn’t perfect, but it was honest. It acknowledged that live theater is a collaborative ecosystem. Unsurprisingly, producers and theater owners didn’t love paying musicians who weren’t playing. Rather than maintaining larger live orchestras, the industry chose a different path.

Producers fought those minimums at the bargaining table. They challenged them legally. They looked for loopholes and technicalities that would allow them to reduce local hiring while still calling their product “live theater.” And as new technologies emerged, they leaned into them aggressively. Virtual Orchestra, Ableton, KeyComp, and many others quickly replaced the need for live musicians.

Technology itself isn’t the villain. Musicians have always adapted to new tools. But what we’ve seen in touring Broadway productions is not innovation for artistic reasons; it’s substitution driven by cost avoidance.

Because of this, the sound of theater itself has changed. Live instruments are processed to resemble recordings—compressed, balanced, and smoothed until the hall no longer sounds like a room filled with musicians, but like a carefully mastered album played at scale. Audiences are being conditioned to accept a recorded sound as the norm, even in spaces dedicated to live performance.

The physical spaces in theaters have followed the same logic. Pits are lowered, enclosed, or displaced to limit acoustic bleed and increase control at the soundboard. The very thing that distinguishes live music becomes invisible as well as inaudible.

Changing corporate structures have exacerbated the problem. Today, it is common for a new production company to be incorporated for each touring show. Increasingly, the relationship between producer and venue is structured as a rental arrangement, allowing production companies to sidestep local collective bargaining agreements and the protections that once ensured meaningful employment.

The consequences extend beyond employment numbers. Young players lose exposure to high-level theater books. Mid-career musicians lose stable, union wages. Communities lose the connection between their local arts workforce and the shows that pass through their cities.

I want to be very clear that thinking about local theater musicians in no way suggests a conflict with touring theater musicians. That is a narrative designed to divide us and reduce our power. Touring and local musicians are not competing interests; they share the same problem. When you reduce the number of musicians from 16 to four, everyone loses.

As union leaders and theater musicians, we’re often told this is simply “the market.” But markets are shaped by choices, contracts, and values. The decline of live orchestras in our theaters is not inevitable; it’s the outcome of sustained pressure to redefine theater as something cheaper, smaller, and more easily automated.

Live musicians breathe with the stage. They respond to actors, acoustics, and the energy in the room. When we replace people with machines, we don’t just cut costs—we narrow the expressive range of the art form itself.

The task ahead is formidable. But history offers a clear lesson: durable change has never occurred because of a solitary voice. It comes from collective effort—musicians acting together, speaking together, and refusing to accept the quiet erosion of their craft. That communal resolve is not only our strongest tool; it is the very tradition on which theater itself was built.

When it comes to negotiating with billion-dollar streaming and technology companies that have enormous legal, financial, and technological resources, independent musicians have been out of luck. The imbalance is not one of talent; it is one of leverage.

Musicians are forced to accept unreasonable terms or walk away. Musicians may receive only fractions of a cent in royalties attributable to an individual stream, while some streaming platforms impose minimum thresholds before tracks are eligible to generate recorded royalty payments. Artificial intelligence companies have also faced allegations of using and replicating musicians’ likenesses, voices, and styles without their consent.

Antitrust laws were put into place more than a century ago with the goal of protecting competition and creating a fair marketplace. Paradoxically, those same laws can create a massive imbalance of power in today’s music industry. The Clayton Act of 1914, designed to curb anticompetitive practices, recognized that “the labor of a human being is not a commodity or article of commerce.”

Yet independent musicians, labels, and writers—who are treated as individual businesses under antitrust law—can be prevented from collectively negotiating with the enormous technology companies that dominate the market. That protection for human labor should apply to working musicians. To address this paradox, Representative Deborah Ross (D-NC) introduced H.R. 8994, the Protect Working Musicians Act (PWMA), which offers a commonsense, free-market solution.

PWMA allows independent musicians, songwriters, and indie labels to band together to negotiate fair royalty payouts and licensing terms without violating antitrust laws. It addresses dominant streaming services as well as generative AI companies that train their models using copyrighted music without permission or market-value compensation.

This legislation offers a bipartisan, free-market approach because it does not establish a collective bargaining agreement; instead, it reflects the spirit of antitrust law by allowing the creators of the very product from which these technology giants reap profits to negotiate collectively. Without relying on litigation or regulation, the bill would help restore that intended balance, giving creators a meaningful voice in decisions about compensation, consent, transparency, and how their music and performances are used in AI.

On August 6, the AFM participated in “Our Seat at the Table,” a virtual panel presented by a coalition of singers, songwriters, and music industry representatives to raise awareness about H.R. 8994. Ross echoed a statement she made upon introduction of the bill: “Working musicians and small independent labels face urgent challenges to their livelihoods posed by the market power of streaming platforms like Spotify and Apple Music. Now, as the use of AI in music production explodes, it’s more urgent than ever to ensure artists’ creations aren’t being used without fair licenses and pay. The Protect Working Musicians Act will level the playing field for small, independent music creators, and empower these talented musicians to demand fair compensation.”

I participated along with Tift Merritt (singer-songwriter), Mariah Czap (Exceleration Music), Erin McAnally (Songwriters of North America/SONA), Wendy Laister (Magus Entertainment), and moderators Jen Jacobsen (Artists Rights Alliance/ARA) and Lisa Hresko (American Association of Independent Music/A2IM).

The bill can be found at www.congress.gov/bill/119th-congress/house-bill/8994.

Please call your representative to ask for their support. Technology companies deserve to innovate, but musicians deserve the opportunity to negotiate. Those two ideas can, and should, coexist.

As I begin my first term on the AFM International Executive Board, I look forward to advocating for legislation like the Protect Working Musicians Act and ensuring that the voices of working musicians are heard in the halls of government. The music industry will continue to change, but one principle must remain constant: working musicians deserve a meaningful voice in the decisions that affect their work, their livelihoods, their likeness, and their future.

The AFM has consistently prioritized generative artificial intelligence (GAI) in bargaining. As our Canadian national electronic media contracts come up for renewal, we are working to incorporate GAI language that protects musicians’ recording work. Musical content recorded for film, television, or digital media is “covered work” under our agreements, whether those recordings use GAI or not, and should attract corresponding payments and protections.

Our most recent success was ensuring the three Cs—consent, credit, and compensation—were addressed in the recently ratified National Film Board Agreement.

We have now been in negotiations with the Canadian Media Producers Association (CMPA) for two years on a GAI Side Letter to the Independent Production Agreement (IPA). We have not concluded, and the entire agreement comes back up for renewal in 2027.

The Sound Recording Labor Agreement (SRLA) negotiations have raised a louder alarm. The concern is no longer only whether new GAI language can be negotiated, it is whether recordings made in the past and today are being used in ways musicians never agreed to nor control.

The record labels’ position is blunt: side musicians are “work for hire” and the labels own the recording. If accepted, that position would allow the labels to use session recordings to train GAI without fair compensation for either the input or output. The AFM does not accept this.

Many musicians may feel pressured to accept “work for hire” gigs. If your sound is unique and recognizable, once it is fed into the machine, it may no longer be yours to control.

In the 1940s, AFM President James C. Petrillo warned that musicians should not keep making recordings that were “making their own competition.” As mechanical recordings and jukeboxes spread, thousands of live performance musicians saw their work disappear. The AFM responded with a lengthy strike, and part of the settlement was the creation of the Music Performance Trust Fund. Recording continued, and the landscape changed forever.

This is another such moment—except now, the recording itself is under threat.

History tells us that we must not be passive. We are organizing, and we need your help: share your stories, spread the word, talk to your colleagues, remind newer musicians of their rights, honour your AFM obligation to record only under AFM agreements, and document everything.

The choices made at the front end of a recording engagement matter. The protection is documentation: strong collective agreements and recording contracts that preserve compensation, consent, and control over both the input and output.

If you are planning a recording project, or have a job offer that comes with a request to sign away your rights, please reach out before you sign. For Canadian members, we are ready to assist, through our Canadian Office or your local union office.

Writing our obituary is not an option. We are defending musicians’ rights.

Your union dues represent much more than a simple “transaction.” Many elected local union leaders hear this question from time to time: “What services do I get in exchange for what I send you each year?” This wording, with the use of “you” or “them,” unfortunately also suggests that the union is perceived as a separate entity, a mere annual subscription to a service, with no other connection.

Even though the AFM offers excellent services, our union’s role goes far beyond that. Being a member of an AFM local means taking part in advancing a common cause: improving musicians’ socioeconomic conditions, defending their rights, and promoting the profession of musician. The AFM and its locals truly embody the collective “we.”

Major unions like the AFM have played, and continue to play, a crucial role in improving living conditions for society. Over time, thanks to the solidarity of their members, unions have achieved major advances such as the right for all to unionize and bargain collectively, occupational health and safety standards, better wages, and a social safety net.

There are still major battles to be fought at the start of the 21st century: digital multinationals use our work without compensating us fairly (streaming platforms) and often without our permission (generative artificial intelligence). Working conditions for freelance musicians have deteriorated over time. Employers offer ridiculous pay in exchange for “visibility” or “opportunities.”

How can we bring about change if we don’t get involved collectively in some way? Membership dues are only the starting point of this commitment. It is increasingly necessary to work together to shift perceptions and move from a transactional mindset (“I pay, so I want a service”) to a mindset of solidarity (“I am part of a collective that acts for our cause”). This shift in mindset can, and must, happen.

As a member, have you wondered how to make a difference? You can contribute to advancing our causes through small but meaningful actions that will strengthen the collective and foster a sense of belonging. Don’t hesitate to discuss this with the elected representatives of your local; they are there to listen to you, and just like you, they want to improve things for our wonderful profession as musicians.

It’s a very good idea to attend meetings and meet with elected officials, but it’s also inspiring to meet other members and exchange ideas about our profession and working conditions, and to strengthen our sense of solidarity and belonging to our union. The more you support your union and participate in union life, the better it can do to advance our causes.

Le syndicat, c’est « nous » : au delà de la logique transactionnelle

par Luc Fortin, membre du conseil de direction international (IEB) de l’AFM et de la section locale 406 (Montréal, Québec)

Vos cotisations syndicales représentent bien plus qu’une simple « transaction ». De nombreux dirigeants locaux élus de notre syndicat entendent cette question de temps à autre : « Quels services est-ce que j’obtiens en échange de ce que je vous verse chaque année? » Ce choix de mots, avec le « vous », ou le « eux », laisse malheureusement entendre que le syndicat est perçu comme une entité distincte, à laquelle on paie un simple abonnement annuel pour un « service », sans autre lien.

Pourtant, bien que l’AFM offre d’excellents services, le rôle de notre syndicat va bien au delà. Être membre d’une section locale de l’AFM, c’est participer à la promotion d’une cause commune : améliorer les conditions socio-économiques des musiciens, défendre leurs droits et promouvoir la profession de musicien. L’AFM et ses sections locales incarnent véritablement le « nous » collectif.

Les grands syndicats comme l’AFM ont joué, et continuent de jouer, un rôle crucial dans l’amélioration des conditions de vie de la société dans son ensemble. Au fil du temps, grâce à la solidarité de leurs membres, ils ont obtenu des avancées majeures telles que le droit pour tous de se syndiquer et de négocier collectivement, des normes de santé et de sécurité au travail, de meilleurs salaires et un filet de sécurité sociale.

Il reste encore des combats majeurs à mener en ce début de XXIe siècle : les multinationales du numérique exploitent notre travail sans nous rémunérer équitablement (plateformes de diffusion continue) et souvent sans notre permission (IA générative). Les conditions de travail des musiciens pigistes se sont détériorées au fil du temps, et les employeurs proposent des rémunérations dérisoires en échange de « visibilité » ou d’« opportunités ».

Comment pouvons-nous faire bouger les choses si nous ne nous mobilisons pas collectivement d’une manière ou d’une autre ? La cotisation n’est que le point de départ de cet engagement. Il est de plus en plus nécessaire de travailler ensemble pour faire évoluer les mentalités et passer d’une logique transactionnelle (« Je paie, donc j’attends un service ») à une logique de solidarité (« Je fais partie d’un collectif qui agit pour notre cause »). Ce changement de mentalité peut, et doit se produire.

Comme membre, vous êtes-vous déjà demandé comment faire une différence? Vous pouvez contribuer à faire avancer nos causes par des actions modestes, mais significatives, qui renforceront le collectif et favoriseront un sentiment d’appartenance. N’hésitez pas à en discuter avec les représentants élus de votre section locale; ils sont là pour vous écouter, et tout comme vous, ils veulent améliorer les conditions de notre merveilleuse profession de musiciens.

Assister aux réunions et rencontrer les élus c’est une très bonne idée, mais c’est également inspirant de rencontrer d’autres membres et d’échanger des idées sur notre profession et nos conditions de travail, et de renforcer le sentiment de solidarité et d’appartenance à notre syndicat. Plus vous soutiendrez votre syndicat et participerez à la vie syndicale, mieux il pourra faire progresser nos causes.