The Music Industry Death Clause 2024

By Jessica Scipio

July 16, 2024

7:39 AM EST

The Dark Underbelly of the Music Industry

The Death Clause and Its Ongoing Impact

For epochs, America’s venerated music maestros have ascended to stardom via record contracts. Prestigious record labels offer these artists unparalleled opportunities, to disseminate their artistry across the globe. Yet, lurking beneath these enticing propositions is a veiled menace. The specter of organized crime has enshrouded the music industry, birthing a macabre innovation in artists' agreements: the death clause.

The Historical Dominance of Record Labels

In the nascent 1980s, six titanic labels monopolized 90% of the music realm. Although these behemoths exuded legitimacy, subsidiary labels often functioned as sanctuaries for organized crime. A pivotal revelation in this covert domain emanated from one of the smallest of the top six: MCA Records. An income tax probe unraveled MCA’s intricate ties with President Ronald Reagan and the United States Department of Justice, unmasking MCA's evasion of corruption and criminality until that fateful year.

In 1983, Irving Azoff ascended as MCA’s president, swiftly garnering notoriety as a formidable force in the entertainment cosmos. Over the ensuing six years, Azoff enlisted notorious mobsters to overhaul the corporation. This infiltration crystallized in 1984 during a conclave of record label magnates in Hollywood, Florida. MCA dispatched not an archetypal businessman but Salvatore James Pisello, an eminent soldier in the Carl Gambino crime syndicate with no antecedent in the music industry. Pisello’s attendance corroborated the pervasive dread: the mafia had insidiously permeated MCA.

Pisello subsequently became MCA’s fall guy, serving as an intermediary for the conglomerate and reaping commissions to peddle “cutouts”—discontinued records contributing to a million-dollar proposal in Florida. This induction of mafia chieftains into the recording studio catalyzed a nationwide probe into the Reagan administration and the U.S. government. Nevertheless, the mafia’s dominion endured, inciting a power tussle between artists and producers and birthing contracts that divested artists of their financial and personal autonomy.

The Death Clause: A Sinister Contractual Element

Hank Harrison, father-in-law of Nirvana’s lead vocalist Kurt Cobain, illuminated a nefarious component of Cobain’s contract posthumously. Cobain, who perished at 27, joined the infamous “27 Club”—a cadre of artists who mysteriously expired at the same age, including Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison. Harrison's disclosures intimated that Cobain’s label, DGC Records, might have orchestrated his demise to capitalize on his oeuvre, as Cobain’s contract stipulated that DGC would retain royalties if he was incapacitated from performing. Since his death, DGC has incessantly profited from Cobain’s legacy, with royalties perpetuating for another 55 years.

Harrison expounded, “I first encountered this clause in a contract from Warner Brothers during my affiliation with the Grateful Dead. I observed it again with Janis Joplin. This clause ensures the recording company recuperates all their money if you die, irrespective of the circumstances.”

While Cobain’s demise somewhat stymied the “27 Club,” premature deaths in the music industry persist. Young rappers such as Juice WRLD, XXXTentacion, and Mac Miller met analogous fates, succumbing before the age of 27. Lil Peep, often paralleled with Cobain, reportedly succumbed to suicide in a similar fashion.

Modern Manifestations of Mob Influence

Although the mafia never wholly commandeered the music industry, its vestiges linger in today’s milieu. Artists’ demises continue to be monetized by their labels, with posthumous releases frequently arousing suspicion regarding the circumstances surrounding their deaths. For instance, the late Juice WRLD bequeathed 3,000 unreleased projects, with his label exploiting two posthumous albums, propelling him to the fourth highest number of streams in rap history.

The labels’ relentless exploitation of deceased artists' work underscores the enduring imprint of mob affiliations on recording studios’ practices. The industry’s titans persist, buttressed by the clandestine maneuvers introduced by organized crime.

Conclusion: An Industry Shrouded in Secrecy and Suspicion

The infiltration of organized crime into the music industry has indelibly scarred it, particularly through the death clause in artists' contracts. This sinister provision ensures that record labels profit from artists' demises, perpetuating a cycle of exploitation. As we traverse the contemporary music landscape, it becomes evident that the reverberations of mob influence still resonate, shaping an industry where the shadow of crime ominously looms over the glamour and allure.