Who Wrote That?
Plagiarism was, unfortunately, an activity with which I had to deal regularly in my career. Typical definitions and/or policies define it as representing the words or ideas of someone else as one’s own. Plagiarism has become a news topic in recent years, and not always with any good reason; I will leave that discussion to a future post.
Now retired, I got to thinking about it in a different context by a discussion of plagiarism in music that I heard on CBC’s It’s About Time program of classical music.
Before I tell you about that, I expect we can all recall some famous instances of alleged plagiarism in popular music in recent decades. One of the most publicized was when a copyright infringement suit was filed against George Harrison, claiming that his song ‘My Sweet Lord’ was a rip-off of the song ‘He’s So Fine’, which was written by Ronnie Mack and was a #1 hit for The Chiffons in 1963 (the year Mack died, interestingly). The suit was brought by Bright Tunes Music Corporation in 1971, the year Harrison’s song was released.
The words of the two songs, the story they tell, if you like, are in no way similar. Thus, the suit was entirely about the music in the two songs, and Bright Tunes won the suit, and a big settlement (which was eventually reduced, after legal wrangling that continued into the 90s).
I admit to having a hard time wrapping my head around any plagiarism case involving 20th century popular music, by which I mean music that is encoded in verses and chorus melodies, chord progressions, lyrics (or not) and harmonies. I’m not a musician, but it seems like there are only so many ways to string chord changes and such together. I like (most) popular music, jazz, blues, rock, country, roots, whatever, but it is all more than a little derivative. A musician I knew back in the day said ‘There’s only one blues song, it just happens to be a great f-ing song’.
One opinion I have read about the Harrison-Mack case was that exactly that – the derivativeness of popular music – was ignored in setting the large settlement Harrison originally had to pay. In addition to that, the judge in the original case said the following:
“Did Harrison deliberately use the music of “He’s So Fine”? I do not believe he did so deliberately. Nevertheless, it is clear that “My Sweet Lord” is the very same song as “He’s So Fine” with different words, and Harrison had access to “He’s So Fine”. This is, under the law, infringement of copyright, and is no less so even though subconsciously accomplished.”
I get it, of course. A court of law cannot be expected to determine whether the copying of music was intentional or not. If the songs are the same, then they are.
Another series of accusations of plagiarism in rock centres on the band Led Zeppelin, who were sued by a number of companies and individuals for the same offence. For example, Zep put Howlin’ Wolf (aka Chester Burnett)’s composition ‘Killing Floor’ on their second album, naming it ‘The Lemon Song’. Not only the chords and melody were the same in that case, so were most of the lyrics. They gave Wolf no songwriting credit (hence no royalties) on the original release, but then had to change that after losing a suit in court.
Full circle now back to the case I heard about on CBC, which seems to me very different. It concerns one Fritz Kreisler, a classical violinist born in Austria in 1875, whose career embraced the new recording technology and industry of the early 20th century. That career was very successful, and included recordings of him playing previously unknown violin pieces by composers such as Vivaldi and Corelli, which Kreisler claimed to have found in an old French monastery. When he turned 60 he confessed to the world he had written those pieces himself and then lied about their authorship.
Thus, he denied no one any revenue from his playing of those compositions, indeed, had he fessed up that they were his, I presume he would have earned writing royalties as well as performance royalties from the recordings people bought. His motivation was that apparently he believed that people would be more likely to buy those recordings if they thought they were hearing newly-discovered music by old masters. I suspect he was correct about that. And, according to one of the accounts of this that I read, Kreisler’s popularity ‘skyrocketed’ after his revelation of his fraud. Similarly, I have seen no evidence that Led Zeppelin’s popularity suffered after they lost the Burnett (or any other) copyright infringement suit.
Plagiarism seems to me to come under the general category of fraud rather than theft, and both the pop and classical instances above are that, but still – those classical musicians are a different breed, man.