As an artist if you do the music and it never blows. You lose nothing more than your pride and your time. The investor loses investments, network, currency, assets, you name it. We heard even before we found out about black music and how good it was, and the songs were blowing.
We didn’t know that somebody had got them a house and a car and a studio there and blah, blah. What if the songs never blew? Yeah. And that man went on social media that justice for my rent. Who would mind him? Hey, we were here when Richie introduced 4 or 5 artists to us.
What’s their name? The BDSM. Yeah, yeah. What is BDSM? Richie. Short video for four people. Promo events. What what what what what what what? It’s been three years since I saw them. Where are they? And if Richie goes online, render justice for my investment, who will go and cry for Richie? As an investor, you are taking on the uncertainty of the future with today’s currency.
The opportunity cost for you is 99.9%. That artist that didn’t work in your hand or that didn’t deliver, or that put up an attitude, or that was lazy, or that didn’t find inspiration or that wasn’t lucky enough, can go to another label and blow up and become something else.
But your money has become beans. So it is an investment. If you are a musician, designer, fashion, whatever creative and somebody comes to you that I want to sign you. The person is investing in you as a business entity. It is a business engagement. They are giving you a loan akin to. I want to open a supermarket. Yes.
Why Labels and Music Investors Fight to Recover Their Money
This is the part many creatives don’t like to hear, but it’s the honest business truth.
When a record label or private investor signs an artist, they are not buying vibes or dreams. They are deploying hard currency into a high-risk asset with no guaranteed return. Studio time is paid upfront. Music videos are paid upfront. Marketing, branding, radio, PR, accommodation, transport, fashion, feeding, features, and connections which all of these are real expenses, not favours.
Music does not fail gently. When it fails, it fails completely.
An artist can walk away, rebrand, change sound, delete socials, or blame the label. The investor cannot delete bank transfers. Money already spent does not come back with excuses.
That is why contracts exist. That is why labels demand ownership of masters, long-term control, exclusivity, and revenue splits that look “unfair” to outsiders. It is not wickedness. It is risk management.
In Ghana’s music space especially, where structures are weak and streaming revenue is slow, investors rely heavily on contracts to survive. One successful artist often pays for three or four failed ones behind the scenes. When people shout “greedy label,” they forget that for every breakout star, there are abandoned studios, unpaid loans, and quiet losses nobody tweets about.
Another uncomfortable truth: talent alone does not guarantee success. Timing, discipline, consistency, attitude, health, luck, and market trends play bigger roles than people admit. An investor can do everything right and still lose everything because the public simply didn’t connect.
So when labels insist on recoupment before profit sharing, or push artists hard, or enforce agreements strictly, it’s not personal. It’s survival.
Music is art to the artist.
But to the investor, it is a business with one of the worst failure rates on earth.
And just like any business loan, when returns don’t come naturally, contracts are the only protection left.
That’s the part of the music business nobody sings about.
When the Hits Come, the Trouble Starts
Another part of this conversation that creatives avoid is what happens after the song blows.
In many cases, once an artist lands a hit and public attention comes, the relationship with the record label or early investor suddenly becomes tense. The same people who carried studio bills, marketing costs, rent, transport, and exposure during the quiet days are now treated like obstacles to “freedom.”
Some artists begin to feel the contract is too tight. Others feel they can now survive alone. And some are advised wrongly that the fastest way out is to distance themselves from the label that funded the journey.
This is where things turn ugly.
Industry observers say it has become common for artists, after success, to attempt to sideline their record labels, delay obligations, ignore management, or push narratives of exploitation without acknowledging the initial investment that made the success possible.
In extreme cases, artists go as far as changing their stage names, abandoning social media pages, or rebranding entirely in an attempt to escape contractual obligations. Not because the contract disappeared but because the name attached to it is still legally bound.
When Ownership Meets Reality
A widely discussed example within music circles is Malcolm Nuna. What is happening around his catalogue and digital identity is similar to situations that have played out before in the industry.
There have been claims that his Instagram account is now controlled by former management, while some of his earlier songs no longer appear under his artist name, instead being reassigned under DJ Adwoa. Whether viewed legally or emotionally, this kind of fallout is usually the result of unresolved contractual ownership, not sudden wickedness.
A similar situation has been whispered about in relation to Kwesi Arthur, where early contractual structures continue to influence control, rights, and leverage long after fame arrives.
These situations highlight a hard truth: popularity does not cancel contracts.
Contracts Don’t Care About Fame
The music business is not a talent show. It is a legal and financial ecosystem. When a label owns masters, controls branding rights, or holds digital assets, those rights don’t vanish because an artist is trending.
From the investor’s side, allowing an artist to walk away clean after success would mean absorbing all the risk and giving away all the reward. That is not business. That is charity.
So when labels enforce agreements, reclaim pages, reassign masters, or restrict usage of a name tied to their investment, it often shocks fans but to the business side, it is contractual enforcement, not personal vendetta.
The painful irony is this:
An artist can walk away and reinvent themselves.
The investor cannot reinvent lost money.
That is why the smartest creatives today do not just chase deals. They understand deals. Because freedom in music does not come from popularity alone but from knowing what you signed before the fame arrived.
Also Read: Wendy Shay Makes History at AFRIMA, Wins Best Female Artist in West Africa
