Plagiarism in music: an in-depth look at famous copycat claims

Music is built on shared traditions and influences. However, the line between being inspired by a song and outright copying it can be perilously thin. Over the decades, numerous high-profile disputes have raised the question: when does inspiration become plagiarism? This article explores the concept of musical plagiarism and examines some of the most famous court cases and disputes where artists were accused of copying songs.

Music plagiarism matters not just for the artists involved, but for the entire industry. On one hand, songwriters deserve credit (and royalties) for their original creations. On the other, musical creativity thrives on borrowing elements from the past – whether it’s a chord progression, a melody, or even a rhythmic “feel.” The tension between protecting originality and allowing artistic inspiration is at the heart of these disputes. Indeed, cases of alleged plagiarism can be controversial and emotionally charged, because they force us to ask who truly owns a melody or a beat.

The fine line between inspiration and infringement

Every song is a combination of limited musical building blocks – the same 12 notes, common chords, and familiar rhythms. It’s no surprise that songs sometimes resemble each other purely by coincidence. So how do courts decide if plagiarism has occurred? Generally, music copyright law protects the original expression of a song (its melody, lyrics, and any unique musical elements), but not broad ideas or genres. This means copying a distinctive melody or lyric can be infringement, whereas taking a general vibe, chord sequence or style usually is not. However, the distinction is not always clear-cut, and that uncertainty fuels many legal battles.

To prove copyright infringement, a plaintiff typically must show that the later song is “substantially similar” to the earlier work in protectable elements, and that the later songwriter had access to the original. Intentional copying is not required – even unintentional or “subconscious” copying can violate the law. In fact, subconscious plagiarism became a famous concept after a 1970s case (as we will see below), highlighting that musicians might unknowingly regurgitate a tune heard long ago. Because of this, many artists take precautions – for example, recording and dating their compositions to prove when they created a melody, just in case a dispute arises later. But even with precautions, lawsuits can and do happen, especially when a new song becomes a massive hit and the stakes (and potential payouts) are high.

In recent years, there’s been a noticeable uptick in copyright claims against popular artists. Some observers argue that the industry has become overly litigious, with songwriters (or their publishers) quick to sue over generic musical similarities. Others maintain that litigation is necessary to protect creative works from theft. The outcome of these cases can have a chilling effect (or lack thereof) on songwriting: a big plaintiff victory might make artists more cautious about echoing their influences, whereas a defense win might reassure musicians that common musical phrases are safe to use. With that context in mind, let’s delve into some landmark examples of songs that ended up in court.

Notable plagiarism disputes in music

George Harrison vs the Chiffons

It’s one of the earliest and most famous pop plagiarism cases. Former Beatle George Harrison released “My Sweet Lord” in 1970 to great acclaim – but it didn’t take long for listeners to notice it sounded uncannily similar to The Chiffons’ 1963 hit “He’s So Fine.” The publisher of “He’s So Fine” sued Harrison for copyright infringement, and the case dragged on for years. In 1976, a judge ruled that Harrison had “subconsciously” copied the earlier tune. The two songs’ melodies were virtually identical in key places, so even if Harrison hadn’t intended to steal it, the similarity was too strong to ignore. He was ordered to pay damages (eventually settled years later), and the case cemented the idea that unintentional copying is still infringement. Harrison professed deep regret, and fellow Beatle John Lennon quipped that perhaps Harrison thought “God would let him off” the hook. This case set a precedent that would resonate in music law for decades.

Chuck Berry vs the Beach Boys

Sometimes, inspiration crosses into outright borrowing. In 1963, The Beach Boys scored their first big hit with “Surfin’ U.S.A.” – but its melody was basically a reworked version of Chuck Berry’s rock’n’roll classic “Sweet Little Sixteen.” Beach Boys leader Brian Wilson freely admitted the song was a tribute to Berry. But, tributes still require permission: Berry’s music publisher quickly threatened legal action. The dispute was resolved without a trial – the Beach Boys agreed to give Chuck Berry songwriting credit on “Surfin’ U.S.A.” and turned over a chunk of the royalties to him. In effect, Berry became the credited composer of a song he never actually wrote, all because the homage was just a bit too on-the-nose. This early case taught 1960s rockers a lesson in copyright: if you emulate a hero’s work closely, be prepared to share the rewards.

John Lennon vs Chuck Berry’s publisher

Chuck Berry’s influence popped up again a few years later – this time involving The Beatles. In the song “Come Together” (1969), John Lennon opens with the line “Here come old flat-top…” set to a swampy groove. That lyric and the song’s overall rhythm bore a strong resemblance to Berry’s 1956 song “You Can’t Catch Me,” which begins “Here come a flat-top, he was movin’ up with me.” Berry’s publisher, the formidable Morris Levy, filed a lawsuit accusing Lennon of lifting the line and feel. Rather than engage in a long court battle, Lennon agreed to an unusual settlement: he promised to record some cover versions of Levy’s songs on his next album. Lennon did record a batch of 1950s rock’n’roll covers (including a Berry tune) for an album in 1975 – but the arrangement turned messy when Levy released some of the tapes without authorization, prompting further legal squabbles. In the end, the matter was resolved, but it stands as a noteworthy example of a plagiarism claim resolved through creative (and complicated) compromise rather than a straightforward payout.

Led Zeppelin vs Spirit

Led Zeppelin’s anthem “Stairway to Heaven” (1971) is often cited as one of the greatest rock songs ever – but in the 2010s it also became the subject of a major plagiarism lawsuit. The estate of Randy California, guitarist of the band Spirit, claimed the famous acoustic intro of “Stairway” was lifted from Spirit’s 1968 instrumental “Taurus.” Both songs feature a distinctive descending chord progression. Led Zeppelin members Jimmy Page and Robert Plant were taken to court, and the case gained huge attention. Initially, a jury in 2016 found that “Stairway to Heaven” did not infringe “Taurus,” noting that such chord sequences are common in music. However, the legal saga continued with appeals and debates about technical issues (including what parts of the songs the jury could compare). Ultimately, in 2020, the verdict in Led Zeppelin’s favour was upheld, confirming that the similarities were not substantial enough to be deemed infringement. This case was closely watched because “Stairway” is so iconic and the claim involved similarities in mood and chord pattern rather than an obvious melody rip-off. The resolution reassured songwriters that basic musical building blocks, like common chord progressions, remain largely free for all to use.

Fantasy Records vs John Fogerty

Not all plagiarism accusations involve two different songs by two different artists – one of the strangest cases involved an artist being accused of plagiarising himself. In the 1980s, John Fogerty – former leader of Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR) – was sued by his old record label, Fantasy Records. The label owned the rights to Fogerty’s CCR catalogue, including the 1970 hit “Run Through the Jungle.” After Fogerty went solo, Fantasy claimed his new 1985 song “The Old Man Down the Road” sounded too much like “Run Through the Jungle,” and thus Fogerty had essentially stolen from his own earlier composition. The absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on anyone. Fogerty fought back hard. In a memorable moment, he even brought his guitar into the courtroom and performed live, demonstrating to the jury the differences between the two songs. The jury sided with Fogerty, concluding that an artist can’t be punished for having a recognizable style – and that these two songs, while sharing Fogerty’s swamp-rock vibe, had distinct musical elements. The case went further to the U.S. Supreme Court on the issue of legal fees, where Fogerty again prevailed, setting a precedent that defendants who win baseless copyright suits can recover attorney’s costs. This saga showed that you cannot copyright your artistic “sound” and that accusations can sometimes venture into the truly bizarre.

Acuff-Rose (Roy Orbison) vs 2 Live Crew

One of the most consequential music copyright cases in legal history started with an unlikely pairing: Roy Orbison and 2 Live Crew. Orbison’s 1964 classic “Oh, Pretty Woman” – a sweet rock ballad – was transformed in 1989 by rap group 2 Live Crew into a bawdy, parody song full of tongue-in-cheek lyrics. The crew had initially asked Orbison’s publisher (Acuff-Rose Music) for permission to use the melody; when the publisher refused, they released the parody anyway. This led to a lawsuit that climbed all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. In 1994, the Supreme Court ruled in favour of 2 Live Crew, declaring that their version was a parody and thus protected “fair use” under copyright law. This landmark decision (Campbell v. Acuff-Rose) established that using a substantial part of a song to make a parody or critical commentary can be legal without permission, because it’s a transformative use. The case was a victory for artistic freedom and has been cited ever since whenever someone wants to poke fun at or pay satirical tribute to an existing work through imitation.

The Rolling Stones vs the Verve

Even when you legally sample or interpolate another song, things can go awry. A notorious example is The Verve’s 1997 hit “Bitter Sweet Symphony.” The Britpop band had licensed a short sample from an orchestral version of The Rolling Stones’ song “The Last Time.” The deal allowed The Verve to use a five-note segment from that symphonic recording in exchange for a 50/50 split of royalties. But after the song became a worldwide smash, the Stones’ former manager Allen Klein – who controlled the rights – claimed The Verve had used “more than agreed”. Klein (on behalf of Stones members Mick Jagger and Keith Richards) sued The Verve, arguing the sample extended beyond the licensed portion. The outcome was disastrous for The Verve: they were forced to relinquish all songwriting credits and royalties for “Bitter Sweet Symphony” to Jagger and Richards, despite the fact that the song’s lyrics and overall composition were original to Richard Ashcroft of The Verve. To add insult to injury, the song was nominated for a Grammy – but since the credits had been reassigned, it was Jagger and Richards (who had literally done nothing) named on the ballot. The Verve’s magnum opus was effectively taken away from them over a sampling technicality. (In a coda to this saga, decades later in 2019 the Rolling Stones members voluntarily returned the rights to Ashcroft as a good-will gesture, finally giving credit back where it was due.) The case remains a cautionary tale about the perils of sampling: even a small borrowed piece can cost you everything if not handled carefully.

Oasis vs the New Seekers

Britpop bad boys Oasis made waves in the mid-1990s with their swaggering throwback rock. But some of their throwbacks were a bit too literal. One infamous example is the 1994 song “Shakermaker,” in which Oasis basically lifted the melody of “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing.” That tune was originally a 1971 hit for The New Seekers – and even more famously, it began life as a jingle for a Coca-Cola advert (“I’d like to buy the world a Coke…”). Oasis guitarist Noel Gallagher later said he was consciously riffing on a song from his childhood. Regardless, copying a Coca-Cola commercial melody without permission was asking for trouble. The New Seekers’ publishers sued, and Oasis settled the case by reportedly paying around $500,000 in damages. With typical cheek, Noel Gallagher cracked that after the lawsuit he’d switched from Coca-Cola to Pepsi. Jokes aside, the “Shakermaker” case showed the risks of indulging in nostalgia: if you borrow a melody, even as a cheeky reference, expect to pay up or credit the original.

Oasis vs Neil Innes (the Rutles)

Oasis’s plagiarism woes in 1994 didn’t end with Coca-Cola. Their standalone single “Whatever” also landed them in legal hot water. The song’s flowing orchestral melody bore a strong resemblance to “How Sweet to Be an Idiot,” a 1973 track by British songwriter Neil Innes. Innes is known for his work with the comedy Beatles-parody band The Rutles, which added a layer of irony to the situation – a band often parodying the Beatles found its work stolen by a band often compared to the Beatles. Innes and Oasis settled the matter amicably. He was granted a co-writer credit on “Whatever” and a share of the royalties. In interviews, Innes took it in good humour, noting that at least Oasis had good taste in melodies. Still, this case along with “Shakermaker” solidified Oasis’s reputation for wearing their influences on their sleeve – sometimes to the point of legal liability.

Queen & David Bowie vs Vanilla Ice

Even people who weren’t alive in the 1980s know the iconic bass line from Queen and David Bowie’s 1981 collaboration “Under Pressure.” That dun-dun-dun da-da-dun-dun riff is instantly recognizable – which is why alarm bells rang when rapper Vanilla Ice released “Ice Ice Baby” in 1990. The hip-hop smash hit was built around a sampled bass line that was effectively identical to “Under Pressure,” save for a minimal rhythmic tweak. At first, Vanilla Ice insisted the two bass lines were different because he added a single grace note. The world at large (and Queen/Bowie’s lawyers) weren’t convinced by that argument. Facing a looming lawsuit, Vanilla Ice opted to settle. He paid an undisclosed sum and added Queen and Bowie to the songwriting credits of “Ice Ice Baby.” The case underscored the point that even short musical phrases – if they are as distinctive as that bass line – can be protected. It also became a pop-culture joke that one of the biggest one-hit wonders in rap had to cut a cheque to rock legends for essentially borrowing their groove.

The Turtles vs De La Soul

Another watershed moment in sampling came from the early days of hip-hop’s golden age. Pioneering rap group De La Soul released their acclaimed 1989 album 3 Feet High and Rising, packed with creative samples from all kinds of records. One short snippet – a mere four-bar loop from the 1969 song “You Showed Me” by The Turtles – slipped through without clearance. Too bad for De La Soul: The Turtles’ former members Flo & Eddie noticed the unlicensed sample and were not pleased. They sued De La Soul in 1991, seeking a hefty sum for the unauthorized use of their music. The case was settled out of court, and reports suggest De La Soul had to pay as much as $1.7 million – an enormous amount, especially by early ’90s standards, and far more than they likely ever earned from the album. This lawsuit sent shockwaves through the hip-hop community and music industry, marking the end of the Wild West era of sampling. After The Turtles’ successful suit, record labels and artists became much more diligent (and sometimes paranoid) about clearing samples, because it was clear that uncleared samples could ruin you financially. The legacy of this case is the heavily sample-cleared (or sample-free) landscape of commercial hip-hop in the decades since.

Elastica vs Wire (and The Stranglers)

Britpop band Elastica loved late ’70s post-punk music – so much so that they ended up copying it a bit too closely. On Elastica’s 1995 debut album, multiple songs bore striking similarities to tracks by earlier British bands Wire and The Stranglers. In particular, Elastica’s hit single “Connection” riffed almost note-for-note off Wire’s 1977 song “Three Girl Rhumba.” Another Elastica track, “Waking Up,” had a guitar part nearly identical to The Stranglers’ “No More Heroes.” The publishers of those older songs took legal action, and Elastica quickly opted to settle the claims. The cases were resolved out of court – reportedly with cash payouts and official credits to the original songwriters. Elastica didn’t comment much publicly, but the disputes didn’t seem to dent their popularity at the time. Fans half-joked that the band had “stolen from the best”. In retrospect, the Elastica affair highlights that even in the ’90s, long before today’s digital music detection tools, veteran artists were listening and ready to call out younger bands on blatant musical theft – and that even a few borrowed bars can lead to a lawsuit.

The Isley Brothers vs Michael Bolton

By the early 1990s, jury trials over hit songs were becoming more common – and one of the largest damages awards on record came in 1994, when Michael Bolton was found to have plagiarised The Isley Brothers. Bolton’s 1991 song “Love Is a Wonderful Thing” (a top 20 hit) shared its title and a very similar chorus with The Isley Brothers’ much earlier song of the same name (released in 1966). Bolton claimed he hadn’t been aware of the little-known Isley Brothers tune, but a jury didn’t buy it. They decided Bolton’s track copied the Isleys’ work and, because Bolton’s song had earned significant revenue, the court hit him with a whopping $5.4 million judgment in damages. This was one of the largest monetary awards ever in a music plagiarism case at the time. It sent a strong message: even megastar artists like Bolton could be made to pay dearly if a jury felt a new song too closely resembled an old one. The case also illustrated how two songs sharing an uncommon title can raise eyebrows – it was easier for jurors to believe copying had occurred when both songs even had the exact same name and hook line.

Los Kjarkas vs Kaoma (“Lambada”)

Plagiarism isn’t just a transatlantic or Anglophone affair – one of the most intriguing cases spans South America, Europe and beyond. The global 1989 pop hit “Lambada” (by French-Brazilian band Kaoma) was a summertime sensation, but it turned out the irresistible melody wasn’t original. The tune was lifted from a 1981 Bolivian folk song called “Llorando se fue” by the group Los Kjarkas. Kaoma had translated and modernised the song without crediting the original Bolivian writers. Los Kjarkas eventually filed suit, and in 1991 a court in France ruled in their favour – determining that Kaoma’s “Lambada” was a clear copyright violation. The original songwriters were officially added to the credits on later releases and presumably received royalties going forward. This case brought attention to the often-uncredited borrowing of indigenous or folk music by international producers. It also set the stage for further uses of the melody: notably, in 2011, Jennifer Lopez’s hit single “On the Floor” prominently interpolated the “Lambada” chorus. By then, with the Bolivian composers recognised, the melody could be properly licensed – proving that once a song’s authorship is settled through the courts, future artists know exactly whom to pay when they want to use that catchy hook.

Marvin Gaye vs Robin Thicke & Pharrell Williams

No discussion of music plagiarism is complete without “Blurred Lines.” In 2013, Robin Thicke (with producer Pharrell Williams) released “Blurred Lines,” a song that quickly became the biggest hit of the year. It also quickly drew comparisons to the sound of Marvin Gaye’s 1977 soul-funk classic “Got to Give It Up.” Encouraged by those similarities, Marvin Gaye’s family filed a lawsuit claiming “Blurred Lines” infringed the copyright of “Got to Give It Up.” The case went to trial in 2015, producing a media frenzy and intense debate among musicians. Thicke and Williams admitted they were inspired by Gaye’s groove and wanted to evoke the late ’70s party vibe, but they insisted they hadn’t copied any specific “protectable” element (such as the melody or lyrics). A jury disagreed. They found that “Blurred Lines” did copy elements of Gaye’s composition – despite the two songs not sharing an exact melody line, the combination of rhythms, keyboard chords, and overall feel was close enough in the jury’s ears. The verdict shocked many observers and caused widespread concern that imitating a style or era could now be legally risky. The Gaye family was awarded a massive sum (initially $7.4 million, later reduced to about $5 million) plus a share of future royalties. The defendants appealed and argued that the verdict would chill creativity – songwriters might fear writing anything with a retro style if “feel” could be copyrighted. Nonetheless, after years of appeals, the judgment largely stood. The “Blurred Lines” case became a turning point: it’s frequently cited in songwriting sessions and music industry boardrooms whenever the discussion turns to how much “borrowing” is too much. It’s worth noting, however, that copyright law itself did not change – rather, this jury’s decision was somewhat specific to the evidence in front of them. Still, the case’s legacy is a heightened caution in the music community about crossing into territory that might be seen as copying a prior artist’s aura too closely.

Sam Smith vs Tom Petty

British singer Sam Smith found himself in an uncomfortable situation shortly after his soulful ballad “Stay With Me” became a worldwide hit in 2014. Fans and musicians started pointing out that the chorus of “Stay With Me” – with its pleading vocal melody – sounded very similar to the chorus of Tom Petty’s 1989 classic “I Won’t Back Down.” The resemblance was mostly in the melodic contour and chords underpinning the line “stay with me.” Sam Smith swore he had never heard Petty’s song (he was born in 1992, after all), and there was no suggestion of intentional copying. But Smith’s team took a pragmatic approach: rather than litigate, they quickly reached out to Tom Petty’s camp to settle amicably. In 2015, it was revealed that Tom Petty and his co-writer Jeff Lynne had been quietly added to the official songwriting credits for “Stay With Me,” entitling them to a percentage of royalties. Petty later publicly stated that stuff like this “happens all the time” in music and that he had no hard feelings – the similarity, he implied, was likely a coincidence. He quipped that it was not a personal lawsuit, just the business of making sure songwriters get properly credited. The Sam Smith–Tom Petty resolution is often cited as a gentlemanly way to handle such disputes: no courtroom drama, just a recognition of similarity and a sharing of the profits. It also demonstrated the concept of “subconscious” influence – Sam Smith might well have absorbed the melody unknowingly through cultural osmosis. (An interesting footnote: Petty himself noticed a similarity between his song “Mary Jane’s Last Dance” and the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ 2006 single “Dani California,” but Petty chose not to pursue any claim, showing his generally laid-back stance on these matters.)

Radiohead vs the Hollies (and Lana Del Rey)

Even alternative rock isn’t immune to plagiarism claims. Radiohead’s breakthrough 1992 hit “Creep” is a moody anthem for misfits – but the song’s writers had to retroactively share credit because of similarities to an earlier tune. The chorus chord progression and melody in “Creep” bore a resemblance to the 1974 song “The Air That I Breathe,” written by Albert Hammond and Mike Hazlewood (and made famous by The Hollies). Radiohead didn’t initially realise the overlap, but the publishers of “The Air That I Breathe” certainly did. They sued, and Radiohead’s team settled by giving Hammond and Hazlewood co-writing credits on “Creep.” The band, who were newcomers at the time, essentially said fair enough and moved on. Fast-forward to 2018, and Radiohead found themselves on the other side of a plagiarism spat. Pop singer Lana Del Rey claimed that Radiohead’s publishers had threatened to sue her over her song “Get Free,” alleging it sounded too much like “Creep.” Lana Del Rey even announced at a concert that “my lawsuit’s over” and joked about being able to sing the song now. Radiohead’s camp, for their part, denied any formal lawsuit was filed, but acknowledged there were discussions. Ultimately the matter was resolved behind closed doors (the details remain unclear, and no one was officially added to anyone’s credits publicly). The irony of the situation was not lost on music fans: “Creep” itself was partially plagiarised from another song, and now its writers were accusing someone else of plagiarising them. This double example shows how influence travels in cycles – yesterday’s young innovators can become today’s protective copyright enforcers. It also highlights that history can repeat (or rhyme) melodically, sometimes unintentionally.

Katy Perry vs Flame

In 2019, pop superstar Katy Perry faced a startling courtroom loss that had many musicians raising their eyebrows. Perry’s 2013 hit “Dark Horse” was accused of stealing its underlying beat (a short repeating musical pattern known as an ostinato) from a 2009 Christian hip-hop track called “Joyful Noise” by rapper Flame (Marcus Gray). In an initial trial, a jury actually ruled against Perry, finding that the spooky descending eight-note riff in “Dark Horse” was substantially similar to Flame’s track. They awarded the plaintiffs $2.8 million in damages. The verdict sent shockwaves because the musical phrase in question was quite simple and commonplace (essentially a minor-key pattern that many songs share). However, the story didn’t end there. Perry’s legal team appealed, and in 2020 a judge overturned the jury’s verdict, concluding that the musical building blocks in the songs were too basic to be protected by copyright. In 2022, a higher court concurred, definitively clearing Katy Perry of infringement. The judge wrote that allowing a copyright on such a simple musical pattern would amount to giving someone a monopoly over basic musical elements like a minor scale, which would “limit musical creativity” for everyone. This was a relief not just for Perry, but for songwriters everywhere who worried that commonplace riffs could become courtroom liabilities. The “Dark Horse” case ultimately reinforced a key principle: common musical elements aren’t owned by anyone. It also showed the back-and-forth nature of these disputes – a jury of laypeople might hear two songs and think “those sound alike, copy!”, but on appeal, judges and experts might decide the similarity isn’t legally significant. For Perry, what began as a frightening precedent ended as a reaffirmation of artistic freedom.

Taylor Swift vs 3LW (Sean Hall & Nathan Butler)

Even phrases and lyrics can trigger plagiarism claims, although such cases can be harder to prove. Pop megastar Taylor Swift faced a years-long lawsuit over a single line in her 2014 hit “Shake It Off.” The song’s oft-quoted hook – “players gonna play, play, play, play, play, and the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate” – came under fire from songwriters Sean Hall and Nathan Butler. They wrote a 2001 R&B song for the group 3LW called “Playas Gon’ Play,” which contains the lines “playas, they gonna play” and “haters, they gonna hate.” Hall and Butler argued that Swift had copied their lyric phrase and its concept. Swift’s team countered that the phrases were too short and too commonplace to be original to anyone – the idea that “players play and haters hate” is essentially common slang that had been around for ages. In 2018, a judge initially dismissed the case for exactly that reason, calling the lyrics “too banal” to be copyrighted. But the plaintiffs persisted and won an appeal to revive the case in 2021, pushing it toward a jury trial. As the trial date loomed in late 2022, something surprising happened: Hall and Butler dropped the case entirely. The lawsuit was dismissed with prejudice (meaning they can’t file it again). No public settlement was announced, prompting speculation that either a behind-the-scenes deal was reached or the plaintiffs simply decided it wasn’t worth continuing. Swift had firmly maintained she’d never heard the 3LW song and that she was just writing about common sayings. In the end, this dispute fizzled out, but it’s noteworthy for highlighting the limits of copyright: extremely short phrases or idioms usually aren’t protectable. It also showed how high-profile the stakes can get – at one point it seemed possible that one of the world’s biggest pop stars would have to defend her songwriting on the stand over a five-word cliché. The resolution (or lack thereof) left the question somewhat open, but most songwriters took comfort in the fact that the case didn’t set any new precedent for owning everyday expressions.

Ed Sheeran vs Sami Chokri (Shape of You)

In the 2020s, Ed Sheeran has become a magnet for plagiarism accusations – a testament both to his success and perhaps to a growing trend of testing big hits for similarities. His 2017 monster hit “Shape of You” (one of the best-selling tracks of the decade) ran into trouble when UK artist Sami Chokri (stage name Sami Switch) claimed the song lifted a vocal melody from Chokri’s 2015 track “Oh Why.” Specifically, Chokri argued that the “Oh I, Oh I, Oh I…” hook in “Shape of You” was copied from his own chorus refrain of “Oh why, oh why, oh why.” In response, Ed Sheeran took the proactive step (much like Taylor Swift did in her case) of asking the High Court in London to declare that he had not infringed – essentially trying to clear his name and un-freeze royalties that had been halted pending the dispute. The case went to trial in 2022, and Sheeran even gave evidence, strenuously denying that he had ever heard “Oh Why” or that he habitually steals other artists’ music (the defense bristled at the plaintiff’s portrayal of Sheeran as a musical magpie). The High Court ultimately ruled in Ed Sheeran’s favour, finding that any similarity between the two songs was purely coincidental. The judge noted that the melodies in question were very simple and commonly used – so even if they sounded alike, that didn’t mean Sheeran copied them. After winning, Sheeran expressed frustration at what he called “baseless” claims, saying these lawsuits are “damaging to the songwriting industry.” He lamented that there is a culture where a successful song can attract speculative accusations, and he hoped the outcome would discourage unfounded legal actions. In a coda, the court ordered Sami Chokri to pay most of Sheeran’s legal fees (over £900,000), reinforcing the idea that going after someone without solid evidence can be a costly gamble. The “Shape of You” case was reassuring to many creators: it showed that courts are willing to recognise when similarities are likely coincidental and not penalise artists for using common musical building blocks.

Ed Sheeran vs Ed Townsend’s estate (Thinking Out Loud)

Hardly had the dust settled on one Sheeran case when another loomed. Sheeran was separately sued in the United States over his 2014 ballad “Thinking Out Loud,” which some noticed had a similar chord progression and vibe to Marvin Gaye’s 1973 soul classic “Let’s Get It On.” This lawsuit was brought not by Gaye’s family, but by the heirs of Ed Townsend, the co-writer of “Let’s Get It On.” (The Gaye family, after their “Blurred Lines” success, was rumoured to be eyeing “Thinking Out Loud” too, but they later denied any involvement). The case took years to reach trial, partly delayed by the pandemic. In 2023, a New York jury heard evidence, including musicologists arguing over whether the chord pattern and brief melodic snippets in Sheeran’s song were unique enough to be protected. Sheeran even grabbed a guitar in court to demonstrate how common the chords were, at one point saying that if he lost the case, he’d be done with music (out of frustration at the implication his work was not original). After a high-profile trial, the jury decided in Sheeran’s favour, finding that “Thinking Out Loud” did not infringe on “Let’s Get It On.” The verdict highlighted that the shared elements – a basic four-chord sequence and a syncopated groove – are standard in countless songs and weren’t invented by Gaye or Townsend. Furthermore, shortly after, a related lawsuit by an investment company that owned a portion of “Let’s Get It On” was dismissed by a judge, who similarly ruled that chord progressions and basic musical elements aren’t protectable. By mid-2025, even the U.S. Supreme Court declined to revive any aspect of the claim. This outcome, combined with the “Shape of You” case, felt like a turning of the tide: high-profile artists can successfully fend off copyright attacks, and courts seem increasingly mindful of not granting monopolies over pop music’s foundational building blocks (like the ubiquitous I-V-vi-IV chord progression, in this instance). For many, the Sheeran verdict was a sigh of relief – a counterbalance to the anxiety caused by the “Blurred Lines” case a few years prior.

Dua Lipa vs songwriters of older hits (Levitating)

When a song absolutely dominates the charts, it often attracts a legal challenge. Dua Lipa’s disco-influenced 2020 hit “Levitating” was one of the biggest pop songs of the decade, and in 2022 it drew not one but two copyright lawsuits. One suit, filed in Los Angeles by members of a little-known reggae band, alleged “Levitating” copied their 2017 track. Another suit, filed in New York, claimed “Levitating” lifted its “signature melody” from a 1979 disco song called “Wiggle and Giggle All Night” (as well as a bit of another track). By 2023, these claims met the fate that many in the industry expected: they were thrown out. In March 2025, a U.S. judge dismissed the New York lawsuit, finding that any similarities were not substantially similar in a legal sense. The judge even noted that some of the compared musical elements were so commonplace they could be found in works ranging from classical composers like Mozart to other pop hits like the Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive.” The court echoed the reasoning from recent cases – you cannot copyright a musical style or a basic building block such as a scale or simple melody pattern. The judge also pointed out it was highly implausible that Dua Lipa had ever heard the obscure old songs in question before writing her hit. In essence, these rulings reinforced that coincidence in pop music is bound to happen. Dua Lipa’s experience shows that while anyone can file a lawsuit, courts are inclined to weed out claims that aim to “monopolise” generic musical elements. For modern pop stars like her, it’s a reassuring sign that the legal system, more often than not, will distinguish genuine plagiarism from mere influence or coincidence.

Impact on the music industry and creative freedom

These cases – and many others like them – have left a profound mark on the music industry. On one side, they underscore the importance of crediting true inspiration. Original artists deserve recognition (and compensation) when elements of their work are used in new songs. The high-profile victories of plaintiffs (such as the Marvin Gaye estate or the Isley Brothers) send a message that songwriters cannot simply lift a melody or unique musical phrase without repercussions. High damages awards also make clear that plagiarism does not pay in the long run.

On the other side, the spate of lawsuits, especially in the 2010s, has sparked worries among many musicians and producers. There’s a fine balance between protecting originality and stifling creativity. After the “Blurred Lines” verdict, for example, numerous artists expressed fear that even being inspired by the feel of an earlier era could land them in court. The spectre of lawsuits arguably has made some artists more conservative – double-checking their songs for accidental similarities and sometimes pre-emptively giving credit to avoid disputes. We’ve seen recent examples of this caution: Pop singer Olivia Rodrigo, for instance, added Paramore and Taylor Swift as co-writers to a couple of her hit songs in 2021 after fans noted resemblances to their past works, even though no lawsuit was filed. Bruno Mars and Mark Ronson also gave songwriting credit to older funk artists on “Uptown Funk” once they recognised the similarities. These proactive credits reflect an industry reacting to the climate of litigation – essentially, “better safe than sorry.”

However, despite high-profile cases, it’s important to note that not every claim wins – in fact, many do not. As we’ve seen, courts in the US and UK have recently pushed back on what they view as overreach, reaffirming that common musical elements and generic lyrics aren’t protectable. Experienced entertainment lawyers often counsel that while it’s crucial to avoid outright copying, one shouldn’t be paralysed by fear of lawsuits over trifles. The reality is that with only so many notes and chords available, some songs will inevitably echo others. The legal standard of “substantial similarity” sets a fairly high bar: trivial similarities or shared basic structures are usually not enough.

From a broader perspective, these plagiarism disputes have fueled a healthy debate about the nature of creativity in music. Almost every artist is influenced by those who came before. Great songs often pay homage – consciously or not – to older styles. The central question becomes: at what point does homage cross into theft? The answer isn’t always clear-cut. Juries and judges have considerable discretion, which is why outcomes can surprise us. This uncertainty has led some experts and musicians to call for clearer guidelines or even reforms in copyright law (for example, some have suggested that purely unintentional musical similarity might warrant different treatment than deliberate plagiarism). Whether such reforms will happen remains to be seen.

In the meantime, the saga of music plagiarism continues to evolve with each new hit and each new lawsuit. For music fans, these cases can be intriguing – they make us revisit older songs and compare them with current chart-toppers, listening for the DNA of a melody or riff passed down through generations. There is a human interest element too: we empathise with veteran artists fighting for their legacies, and with young artists navigating the daunting fact that seemingly everything has been done before.

Ultimately, striking the right balance is key. Copyright laws exist to encourage originality, ensuring songwriters can reap the rewards of their creativity. But those laws also mustn’t lock up the basic grammar of music itself. The recent court decisions in favour of Ed Sheeran, Dua Lipa, Taylor Swift and others suggest that, despite some headline-grabbing plaintiff wins, the pendulum is not swinging towards absurd restrictions – courts are still acknowledging that chords, rhythms, and short phrases often belong to no one exclusively. Musicians will no doubt continue to be inspired by the past (as they always have), and occasionally, they will tread too closely and get called out for it. Each dispute adds to the rich tapestry of music history, reminding us that music is at once an individual art and a collective conversation across time.

In the end, plagiarism in music remains a murky area with blurred lines (no pun intended). But one thing is clear: as long as people keep writing songs, there will be familiar echoes – and there will be debates over whether those echoes are fair game or a step too far. The cases discussed above have become textbook examples, guiding today’s artists on what to do and what to avoid. And for the listening public, they offer a fascinating peek into the songwriting process and the delicate interplay between inspiration and invention that lies behind every beloved tune.