By: Carly Kulevich
In the fast-moving worlds of music and artificial intelligence (“AI”), a high-stakes legal showdown is unfolding. A battle that could redefine the boundaries of creativity in the digital age. At the heart of this conflict lies a critical question: Can AI systems be trained on copyrighted music without the consent of the original artists and rights holders?
Major record labels, including industry giants like Universal Music Group and Sony Music, have taken legal action against two AI music startups, Suno and Udio. These companies are accused of mass copyright infringement, with allegations that they trained their generative music models using protected songs. The lawsuits not only seek financial compensation, but also demand an immediate halt to what the plaintiffs describe as an unauthorized and unethical use of creative works.
Central to these lawsuits is the interpretation of the legal doctrine known as “fair use,” which permits limited use of copyrighted material without permission under specific conditions, most often when the usage is transformative, non-commercial, or educational. Under U.S. copyright law, courts evaluate fair use based on four factors: (1) the purpose and character of the use; (2) the nature of the copyrighted work; (3) the amount and substantiality of the portion used; and (4) the effect on the market value of the original work. Suno and Udio have not disclosed their legal argument yet; however, it is expected that they will argue that their AI models do not replicate original music. Instead, they likely will claim their systems analyze and learn from the protected music to generate entirely new and original compositions. From their perspective, this process is not exploitative; it’s innovative.
The record labels, however, offer a starkly different view. They argue that these AI systems do more than merely learn— they imitate. By analyzing and recreating the style, tone, and structure of existing music, the companies’ models allegedly produce songs that compete directly with the original works. To the plaintiffs, this is not a form of creativity, but rather, it is a sophisticated type of digital copying. They claim such outputs qualify as derivative works; adaptations based on existing copyrighted material requiring authorization from the original rights holders. In their eyes, AI-generated music utilizing copyrighted catalogs is strictly a commercial product, not a research project, and should be subject to the same licensing standards that apply to human artists.
The complexity of this legal battle arises as copyright law was never designed to handle the challenges posed by AI. Traditional legal frameworks assume human authorship and intent, principles that become murky when machines are the ones creating content. As generative AI becomes more advanced, the line between human creativity and machine-generated output becomes increasingly blurred. If AI can convincingly mimic the voice of Taylor Swift or replicate the style of Billie Eilish, where do we draw the line between inspiration and impersonation?
Beyond the courtroom, the implications of this fight are profound. Artists and musicians are raising serious ethical concerns about having their work used to train machines without permission, recognition, or reward. Many could argue that music is more than just a pattern of sounds; it is an expression of identity, emotion, and human experience. When that work is absorbed by AI systems and reimagined without credit or compensation, it raises serious questions about artistic ownership and the value of human labor in a digital economy.
In contrast, generative tools could fundamentally change the future of music composition, enable genre-blending collaborations, and expand experimentation with sound. As a middle ground, there may be a future where humans and machines collaborate to explore bold new frontiers of artistic expression, utilizing AI as a tool to expand creative possibilities. However, without clear legal and ethical guardrails, that optimistic point of view can easily turn into one of exploitation rather than innovation.
If AI developers are allowed to freely take copyrighted work without consent, where does that leave artists? How can emerging musicians build careers in an industry where their unique style can be copied and repackaged by machines almost instantaneously? Ultimately, this legal battle is more than just music or money. It represents a broader cultural transformation, challenging how we define creativity, ownership, and artistic value in an age increasingly dominated by intelligent machines.
As the lawsuits against Suno and Udio unfold, they will do more than resolve a legal dispute. They will help shape the future of artistic expression, determining who gets to create, who gets to profit, and who gets to decide what counts as protected art in the age of AI. They challenge us to reconsider the long-standing assumptions about what it means to be an artist, what it means to be original, and what it means to have rights to your creative work. One thing is for certain: the debate over AI and music is only just beginning. Its consequences will echo far beyond the courtroom, resonating through studios, streaming platforms, and creative minds of the world.
Student Bio: Carly Kulevich is a second-year law student at Suffolk University Law School. She is a staff member for the Journal of High Technology Law. Carly received a Bachelor of Arts degree in Psychology from the University of Pennsylvania in 2023.
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this blog are the views of the author alone and do not represent the views of JHTL or Suffolk University Law School.
