A shaky film camera centers on a young girl who looks to be no more than eight years old, holding a pink toy microphone. Her long hair bounces as she twirls around a living room, eyes sparking with the imagination of a future as a famous singer. She then turns head-on to face the camera, and her mouth syncs up to the song's opening line, “20 million dollars in a car / Girl, tie your hair up if you want to be a star” (Reyez, 2017). Her childlike innocence is stripped away as she stares deadpan against the harsh lyrics, and the screen dissolves into TV static.
This haunting scene opens the music video for “Gatekeeper”, an R&B song released in 2017 by Canadian singer-songwriter Jessie Reyez. The ‘gatekeeper’ in question is music producer Noel “Detail” Fisher, and the video goes on to show the older, current Jessie interacting with men at studios and parties, ending with scenes of tears and arguments in cars. The story behind the song and associated video is a tragically expected and true one: a young, female musician is taken advantage of by an older male producer, and pressured into sexual acts in exchange for the promise of success in the industry. Reyez’s chilling story and bravery in speaking on her experience provide an eye-opening commentary on the dark realities of music fame. This is only one example of the many kinds of objectification and exploitation faced by upcoming and established singers in the music industry. Current female music stars in particular are subject to mistreatment by the industry through branding, over-sexualization, and harassment from men, and Reyez’s experience is only the beginning. Peeling back the layers of this complex narrative, it becomes evident that these are not isolated instances but rather symptomatic of much broader systemic challenges within the music business. With this paper, I aim to explore the question of how and why female music stars are exploited, objectified, and commodified in the modern popular music industry.
To understand the complex landscape of the current state of the music industry and women’s place in it, we can use sociological theory to provide a lens through which to analyze the interplay of gender dynamics, economic structures, and cultural influences. This analysis reveals that the issues leading to the exploitation of women in popular music are deep-rooted and draw larger connections to the topics of gender, media, and capitalism as a whole. To set the stage, I will use Karl Marx’s theory of commodity fetishism to frame the profit-focused motivations of the music industry and how musicians become commodified because of them. I will then use Walter Benjamin’s writing The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction to discuss the effects of mass production on culture and the devaluation of music as an art form. Finally, I will employ Charlotte Perkins-Gilman’s theories on gender to unpack the unequal power dynamics that subjugate women beneath men in the music production process. These three perspectives will cover the economic and societal forces, cultural and artistic implications, and broader gender dynamics of what it is like to be a modern female pop star in North America. Brought together with supplementary evidence, these theories paint a picture of the commodification and exploitation that is felt by almost every female musician today, and this paper seeks to unpack these narratives in order to understand, and hopefully, rewrite them.
Marx & Commodity Fetishism
To discover why musicians are exploited, we must first understand the structures that not only enable but turn a blind eye to processes of exploitation. Karl Marx’s concept of commodity fetishism explains this by defining the divide between a commodity’s perceived value versus the social effort put into it (1890). Due to the processes of capitalism, humans are taught to view items as commodities and value them for their use and exchange value (Marx, 1890). Though this analogy is often used for material items, it is entirely applicable to music, as a song or CD is a commodity as well. In today’s profit-focused music industry, the value of a song is often viewed in its number of sales, streams, or popularity. However, in reality, the song’s value comes from the musician’s artistic vision, musical abilities, and hours of effort. Valuing a song only for its commercial appeal or fame thus hides the contributions that the musicians themselves have made to its creation. This is how capitalistic, profit-driven ideals lead to Marx’s commodity fetishism, where the value of music appears to come from the music itself, rather than the artist who created and/or performed it. This has unfortunate consequences for musicians, because as music is commodified, the artist is then commodified along with it.
Musical artists, specifically female artists, are judged only for their use and exchange values, in this case, to make profitable music. What this results in is situations where female musicians are pressured to maintain a certain image or cater their music to a specific audience to maximize streams, downloads, and marketability. This can not only lead to inauthenticity and a detachment from their music, but to more serious pressures as well. This effect is further explored by Kristin Lieb in her chapter, “Female Popular Music Stars as Brands”. Lieb explains how recording companies turn music stars into ‘brands’, feeding Marx’s point of commodity fetishism. One example is the concept of ‘brand extensions’, which uses female stars to sell clothing lines or perfumes (Lieb, 2018). This is more common than many realize: Selena Gomez and her makeup brand ‘Rare’, Ariana Grande and Billie Eilish with their respective signature perfumes, and even Cardi B selling alcoholic whipped cream. What these women all have in common is that their primary occupation is to be a singer, and yet they have a fully separate business on the side. Artists often end up with brands like these because their value as a star has been separated from their music, and their fame has then become a commodity in itself that is used to sell other products. The branding does not stop there, as Lieb also presents the idea that artists start their careers as ‘short-term brands’, which places significant pressure to constantly update their image or risk being discarded by the industry (2018). In an interview with Time Magazine, Taylor Swift commented on this pressure, saying that “I realized every record label was actively working to try to replace me. I thought instead, I’d replace myself first with a new me. It’s harder to hit a moving target” (Lansky, 2023). Though Swift has found a way to navigate the problem of being a ‘short-term brand’, she is not the only woman who has dealt with the fear of being replaced or discarded. This pressure is what Reyez may have been feeling during her encounter with Fisher, who, as an established music producer, was likely acutely aware of and used to his advantage. A further example of this in Reyez’s song is when the gatekeeper says, “You know we’re holding the dreams that you’re chasing”, showing how Fisher is aware of his power against Reyez’s fragility as a commodified and replaceable artist. Although it is partially expected that the music industry functions as a business, the impact that branding and commodification have on artists' creative processes and well-being is painfully over-pronounced. The profit motive in music production and marketing has obscured the creative labour involved and exacerbated the exploitative and capitalistic effects of commodity fetishization.
Benjamin & Mechanical Reproduction
To develop upon this established detachment of star from music, we can turn to Walter Benjamin’s theories on the reproducibility of art and its subsequent loss of aura. Benjamin argues that the mechanical reproduction of art detaches it from its original context and thus diminishes its ‘aura’ - the presence, authenticity, and value of original artwork (1969). Although Benjamin’s initial writing is more focused on physical art forms, like paintings and photographs, his theory can be applied to the modern music industry when related to how the production and distribution of music have exponentially increased in recent years with the influence of streaming culture. Instead of physical CDs, records, or live performances, we now have unlimited music at our fingertips, which is positive for listeners, but it means that the ‘aura’ of music as an art form has drastically decreased. This constant access diminishes the value and appreciation for individual artists and musical projects. When the listener feels no sense of ownership or intrinsic value to the music they listen to, it is much easier for them to either consciously or subconsciously devalue and objectify the person who created it. This process facilitates the overall detachment between the artist and the listener. Thus, mass production has stripped artists and their music of authenticity, leading to the further commodification of performers who are easily objectified rather than respected as artists.
One place where we can observe this objectification happening in real time is through listeners' consumption and perception of musical media. In two studies on reactions to music videos, participants who were exposed to music videos with sexual imagery (e.g., women dressed in minimal clothing and dancing seductively) produced high scores on the acceptance of the physical act of rape and violence towards women (Kistler & Lee, 2009; Johnson et al., 1995). Male participants exposed to highly sexualized music videos also showed a higher level of objectification of women (Kistler & Lee, 2009). These studies demonstrate a potential link between exposure to sexualized content and the normalization of exploitation and objectification of women. I posit that this normalization is made possible because of the detachment between artist and listener fostered by streaming culture. As aura is depleted through the sheer volume of music readily available, listeners are prone to prioritizing novelty over deeper engagement. This superficial consumption weakens the connection to the artist’s creative process and personal identity. Consequently, music becomes less about appreciating the artistry and more about instant gratification. In this context, listeners become passive consumers and desensitized to inappropriate messages and opinions on women’s objectification. Instead of seeing a sexually explicit music video and appreciating the time and effort put into its art or defending the woman who is performing in it, they will view it at its surface level of sexuality. This desensitization and lack of care towards women and their art likely contributed to the results seen in these studies. It could also be a factor that contributed to Reyez’s experience of sexual harassment. When faced with pervasive sexual imagery surrounding female musicians, coupled with the subsequent rise in objectifying attitudes, it is unsurprising that Fisher felt entitled and motivated to approach Reyez in the way that he did. However, mechanical reproduction and commodification alone do not capture the entire problem. To fully understand, we need to examine how gender plays a role in the power, opportunities, and experiences within the music industry.
Perkins-Gilman & Gender Dynamics
Perkins-Gilman's critiques of gender roles can be directly tied to the unequal power dynamics shaped by economic dependencies that contribute to women's exploitation in music. In Women and Economics, Perkins-Gilman outlines how women produce labour for their husbands, and thus become economically dependent on them. She uses the example of a workhorse to exemplify how “the labour of horses enables men to produce more wealth than they otherwise could”, and yet this benefit is not felt by the horses who are still economically dependent on their owners (Perkins-Gilman, 1898, p. 13). This metaphor relates to women, whose dependence limits their choices and hinders their overall growth. I propose that in the modern music industry, although female singers are paid for their work, they remain subservient and economically dependent on men. This is because the gender disparities in music creation and production exert a significant influence on power dynamics within the industry, leaving female singers vulnerable to exploitation. Due to how music is produced, marketed, and released, it is nearly impossible to make any substantial living from making music unless one has at least a few others working with them, and this includes producers, agents, and publicists, just to name a few. A report published by the USC Annenberg Inclusion Initiative found that from 2012-2022, men made up 86.8% of songwriters and 97.2% of music producers (Smith, S. L. et al., 2023). These statistics are staggering, and not only shed a harsh light on how underrepresented women are in the studio but also reveal that singers are practically forced to be reliant on men if they want to succeed. The consequences of this oversaturation of men are that with no seat at the production table, female singers may have less control over their sound, be pressured to conform to male-driven ideas, and receive unequal compensation in song rights or royalties. Further, and if not most seriously, the lack of women producers can create situations where female singers might be pressured to compromise creatively, financially, and even sexually, contributing to further exploitation.
This presents a significant problem because as has been established, music producers are known to take advantage of young female singers. Jessie Reyez was one example, but other singers have also spoken out. English singer Ellie Goulding stated in an interview, “My whole career started off with instantly being made to feel like a sexual object, and being made to feel vulnerable in those sessions. And there are so many female singers that will hear me saying that and say: ‘Yeah, I can relate.” (Beaumont-Thomas, 2020). Soul singer Raye echoes this statement in her song, “Ice Cream Man.”, with lyrics like “But when I got there, should’ve heard what he was saying / Tryna touch me, tryna f*ck me, I’m not playing” (Raye, 2023). These graphic lyrics detail Raye’s experience of being sexualized by a male producer, painting a near-mirror image of Reyez and Goulding’s experiences. It leaves one wondering how many more female musicians have been pressured into compromising their artistic integrity, safety, or even their bodies for a chance at the same economic opportunities that men are given freely. Since male producers outnumber female producers roughly 34 to 1, there are few other options for women like Reyez and Raye. This lack of representation creates a power imbalance that enables exploitation. These male producers and songwriters are the ‘gatekeepers’ to making it in the music business, and unfortunately, just like the workhorses, women are dependent on them in order to succeed.
Critical Reflection
By addressing the issues in the modern music industry through a sociological lens, this paper defines and unpacks the factors that contribute to the objectification of women in music. Each theory presented has a specific strength that brings to light an important part of the conversation around women’s objectification in relation to fame and artistry. Marx’s concept of commodification helped to expose the economic forces that incentivize the exploitation of artists for profit. Benjamin’s theory of aura highlighted how streaming culture can devalue music and disconnect listeners from artists, facilitating the ease of objectification. Perkins-Gilman’s analysis of gender dynamics sheds light on the power imbalances that make female musicians more vulnerable to sexual exploitation. Together, these theories provide a nuanced picture of the driving structural and cultural forces against upcoming female singers.
However, it’s important to consider that women in music is a broad and complex topic, and the three theories engaged with here only cover a mere subsection of the many ways that the industry and larger societal structures enable the exploitation of women in music. There are limitations in each of the theories and supplementing evidence presented here. Benjamin’s argument, for example, could potentially use additional refinement to be better contextualized in a modern music setting to encompass any potential benefits of streaming culture. Further, Marx’s ideas are firmly rooted in the controlling power of the capitalist system, and may fail to take into account female artists that choose to use certain branding imagery for their own artistic expression. It is also imperative to note that this analysis has not even begun to touch on the exploitation that women of colour face as minorities in the music industry. Adding race to this conversation is another dimension that could be applied in future studies to further develop and enhance the intersectional understanding of minorities in the music industry.
Though the life of a famous singer may seem dazzling to an imaginative child, the reality is soberingly harsh. This paper has only begun to scratch the surface of the challenges women face in the industry, and one can assume there are countless more that have not even hit public knowledge yet. It has become clearer than ever that making it as a woman in the modern popular music scene is not an easy route. To begin taking any steps to change this, there need to be serious structural changes made. As it is almost impossible to fight the colossal that is capitalism and its effects on music culture, we should instead focus on supporting initiatives that elevate female songwriters and producers and empower female artists to own their creative narrative. Representation is the solution to take power away from the male ‘gatekeepers’ who control women’s access to resources and opportunities. By stepping up against exploitative and objectifying practices, we can pave the way for a more diverse and just music industry. It takes more artists to stand up and speak out against the systemic issues at play in order to change them, like the song and short film “Gatekeeper” does. Reyez states at the end of her story, “I was this close to selling my soul that night, I was this close to breaking” (2017). But instead, she chose to keep going, and became the successful artist that she is today. She broke through the gate herself.
References
Beaumont-Thomas, B. (2020, July 10). Ellie Goulding: “I was made to feel vulnerable, like a sexual object.” The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/music/2020/jul/10/ellie-goulding-i-was-made-to-feel-vulnerable-like-sexual-object
Benjamin, W. (1969). “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”. Illuminations. Schocken Books.
Johnson, J. D., Adams, M. S., Ashburn, L., & Reed, W. (1995). Differential gender effects of exposure to rap music on African American adolesce-nts’ acceptance of teen dating violence. Sex Roles, 33(7–8), 597–605. https://doi.org/10.1007/bf01544683
Kistler, M. E., & Lee, M. J. (2009). Does exposure to sexual hip-hop music videos influence the sexual attitudes of college students? Mass Communication and Society, 13(1), 67–86. https://doi.org/10.1080/15205430902865336
Lansky, S. (2023, December 6). Person of the year 2023: Taylor Swift. Time. https://time.com/6342806/person-of-the-year-2023-taylor-swift/
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Perkins Gilman, C. (1898). “Chapter 1” Women and Economics: A Study of the Economic Relation Between Men and Women as a Factor in Social Evolution. Small, Maynard & Company.
Raye. (2023). Ice Cream Man. [Song]. Human Re Sources.
Reyez, J. (2017). Gatekeeper [Song]. FMLY.
Reyez, J., & Huang, P. (2017). Gatekeeper: A True Story. Mad Ruk Entertainment. Retrieved March 30, 2024, from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gi0Jgtg6SfI&ab_channel=JessieReyez.
Smith, S. L., Pieper, K., Hernandez, K., & Wheeler, S. (2023). (rep.). Inclusion in the Recording Studio? Gender & Race/Ethnicity of Artists, Songwriters & Producers across 1,100 Popular Songs from 2012 to 2022 (pp. 1–24). Los Angeles, California: Annenberg Inclusion Initiative.