With the rise of the right, can the music industry remain neutral?

For many of us – artists and audiences – music is a refuge: a space where creativity, collaboration and cultural exchange can soften divisions. But that refuge is under threat.

Across the UK and beyond, far-right ideas that once lurked at the margins have seeped into the mainstream – and the music industry is not immune. Songs, stages and online spaces that once united people are being weaponised in ways that threaten artists, venues, audiences and the broader cultural sector.

Why does it matter?

I was raised when politicians – mostly – were fair and accountable, so this trend is hard to understand. Rising nationalism strains international relations and encourages competition, replacing compassion with suspicion. When those in power mirror the language of division used by extremists, it’s difficult to distinguish between those protecting a nation’s interests and those promoting prejudice.

Isn’t this ‘just politics’? Does it matter? I think it does, because music has always been more than entertainment. Music is political. It shapes our identities, enables belonging and catalyses social change. Think Rock Against Racism and Steel Pulse.

When a lyric is subverted into a slogan at a nationalist rally; or a popular track is retooled for a meme to ‘own the libs’, our industry faces more than an ethical choice. We face a strategic one.

Geopolitics – and associated sponsorship and philanthropy – for the cultural economy in Britain is becoming very problematic for venues, festivals, programmers and the musical ecosystem. When do we say no to investment?

No longer just background noise

Far-right language is no longer just background noise echoing around the pub or on your newsfeed. Online extremists are hijacking the language and aesthetics of popular music to normalise their messages. Anthemic choruses and familiar beats are easy to repurpose as rallying cries.

Digital platforms – once part of the music industry’s salvation – can stream tracks stripped of their intended context, reframed to serve exclusionary narratives. And now, of course, there’s AI…

I’m not a technophobe – I love technology. But for artists, the consequences of  creative IP being misappropriated can be career-ending. A reputation can be savaged on a misunderstanding. Musicians who write about freedom, migration, race or solidarity may find their work reinterpreted as political provocation; events that consciously foreground diverse voices can risk being described as partisan.

Continues…

Kneecap performing at Wide Awake Festival, Brockwell Park. Photo: Ralph PH/Wikimedia commons

Politicised environment

This increasingly politicised environment can make venues, festivals and programmers risk-averse at exactly the moment they need to be bold. They come under pressure — sometimes indirectly — to ‘no platform’ performers who speak out. This has a chilling effect on artistic freedom: look at what happened at the Adelaide writers’ festival.

When political rhetoric evolves into performative patriotism — like the current streetlamp ‘flagpostery’ — it’s not a sign of national pride, it’s a distraction. A distraction that masks something more divisive. Exaggerated gestures – superficially harmless celebrations of heritage – can conceal exclusionary messages and subtle dog whistles.

When politicians speak of integration, it can be divisive; implying newcomers must change to fit in. Fit in to what? These abstractions subtly reinforce systemic inequalities and undermine basic truths – that everyone has equal rights and we all equally belong.

Heal the world

Artists are uniquely gifted; able to write songs that can bring healing and wholeness. But they shouldn’t be compelled to. They should write about what they want – breaking hearts, stacking cash, whatever. But when they do choose to take a stand against conflict or intolerance, the industry should stand behind them: legal, PR, programming and financial support matter.

But it’s not only musicians who can take a stand. We also have the power to heal. From artist managers to festival directors, the industry is well placed to push back against extremism. Here’s my three-point plan:

1. Protect artists’ IP and control of context. Artists must be supported in asserting control over how their work is used, and platforms must be pressured to prevent re-characterisation that promotes hate. Contracts and licensing tools can be updated to guard against appropriation.
2. Safeguard spaces and audiences. Venues, festivals and promoters need clear protocols for identifying and managing extremist activity — from code-of-conduct enforcement to collaboration with local community groups that can help de-escalate tensions without criminalising dissent.
3. Invest in media literacy and community projects. Music programmes that bring people together — cross-community workshops, shared commissions, and touring initiatives that pair artists from different backgrounds — can rebuild the social capital that undermines exclusion.

So begins the task

The whole sector has flagged this issue. Artists and organisations have aired concerns around the rise of the far-right and its likely impacts – both on the music industry and communities of artists and audiences.

But there is a balance to strike and it’s a difficult one. On the one hand, protecting people from harm should never mean silencing debate. But defending free speech should never mean allowing hatred to spread unchecked. Social media platforms and influencers need to do more to limit the spread of hate speech, fake news and misinformation, instead of amplifying it for clicks and views.

A free and fair society is everyone’s responsibility. History tells us it’s hard to keep and easy to lose. And music is for everyone. Let’s show the extremists who can sing the loudest.