Uttam Kumar Gupta, Rajiv Gandhi School of Intellectual Property Law, IIT Kharagpur, LLM Student, IInd Year

I. Introduction

For decades, artists from Bollywood to K-pop have borrowed from each other, turning old beats and melodies into modern magic. This musical recycling can lead to unforgettable hits or messy lawsuits. At the centre of it all are two techniques, sampling and interpolation, where the line between homage and outright theft can get very blurry.

Sampling is a musical “copy and paste” technique in which an artist takes a genuine piece of an old song, a cool drum beat, or a vocal snippet and drops it directly into their new track. This is complex because it utilises both the original recording and the lyrics, requiring two separate permissions.

Interpolation (or Replay) is more like a “re-creation.” Instead of lifting the original audio, the artist re-records that same melody or beat themselves. It is their own performance of someone else’s idea. While this avoids copyright issues with the recording, they still need permission from the original songwriter to use their composition. Both require a license to be legal.

Against this backdrop, this blog examines how courts and industries in India and abroad are shaping the rules governing sampling and interpolation. At its heart lies a simple but pressing question: can the law strike the right balance, protecting original creators while still giving new artists the freedom to experiment and create?

II. THE INDIAN PERSPECTIVE- AN EVOLVING LEGAL FRAMEWORK

India’s legal system is gradually becoming aware of the challenges posed by sampling and interpolation. While Bollywood has long been known for its “inspirations,” the rise of global streaming platforms and heightened public awareness are pushing the industry toward a more formal legal framework.

Take the recent Rani Anthem controversy, for instance, where social media buzzed with claims that the beat of Like Jennie, a song by South Korean singer and rapper Jennie, released through Odd Atelier and Columbia Records on 7th March, 2025, was strikingly similar to Pritam’s composition for Rocky Aur Rani Ki Prem Kahaani. A similar debate flared up when Devara: Part 1 released its track, Chuttamalle, which many listeners found uncannily close to Yohani’s viral hit Manike Mage Hithe. While neither case has reached the courtroom, they reflect the central tension in copyright law: whether a piece of music is a lawful interpolation or an unlawful sample.

Bollywood’s past shows this struggle isn’t new; composers have long navigated the blurry line between homage and copying. R.D. Burman’s Mehbooba Mehbooba from Sholay was compared to Demis Roussos’ Say You Love Me, though both drew on the folk tune Ta Rialia. Jab Koi Baat Bigad Jaye reminded listeners of 500 Miles by Peter, Paul and Mary, while Chhookar Mere Man Ko was alleged to echo Rabindrasangeet’s Tomaar Holo Shuru, Aamar Holo Shaaraa. These examples illustrate how Bollywood has borrowed freely from Western pop, folk traditions, and Indian classical ragas, through both sampling and interpolation, leaving audiences to wonder: when is it creative adaptation, and when is it copying?

Legal scrutiny of such practices has been rare until the 2022 Varaha Roopam case. Here, the hit song from Kantara was accused of plagiarising Navarasam by Kerala-based band Thaikkudam Bridge. The court’s intervention signalled a significant shift, showing that India is ready to treat unlicensed sampling as a serious infringement of intellectual property rights.

The legal foundation for this lies in the Indian Copyright Act, 1957 (‘the Act’). Section 2(p) of the Act defines a “musical work” as a composition of music (including its notation), while lyrics are treated separately as literary works. Alongside this, Section 2(v) of the Act recognises “sound recordings” as a distinct category of copyright, usually owned by the producer. These definitions show that music is protected on two levels: the composition and the recorded performance. Section 14 of the Act grants copyright holders’ exclusive rights, including the right to reproduce, distribute, perform, or adapt their work. The concept of “adaptation” is fundamental here, mirroring the idea of “derivative work” under American law. Any rearrangement, modification, or alteration of an existing piece falls within the exclusive domain of the copyright owner. This dual framework means that unauthorised sampling can simultaneously infringe both the recording and the underlying composition, making the law especially strict on unlicensed use.

Indian courts resolve copyright disputes using a two-step approach, focusing on originality and substantial similarity. First, a work must meet the “modicum of creativity” standard, showing genuine skill and judgment, as emphasised in Eastern Book Co. v. D.B. Modak. This ensures protection of creative choices rather than mere effort. Second, courts assess substantial similarity, focusing on the quality, not just the quantity, of what has been copied. R.G. Anand v. Delux Films introduced the “average listener” or “look and feel” test, examining whether an ordinary person would perceive one work as a copy of another.

Even brief or small samples can constitute infringement if recognisable, placing the burden on the alleged infringer to prove triviality. In essence, the guiding question remains simple yet powerful: would an ordinary listener, hearing both works, perceive one as a copy of the other? This listener-focused approach grounds Indian copyright law, striking a balance between legal precision and the public’s intuitive sense of originality.

III. THE INTERNATIONAL PERSPECTIVE

The story of music sampling in the United States is anything but simple. Over the years, it has sparked countless lawsuits, reshaping the music industry unexpectedly. At the heart of it all lies the Copyright Act of 1976, which sets the ground rules for what creators can protect. Section 106 clarifies that the songwriter, who owns the composition, and the record label, which usually owns the recording, decide how their work is used. You must first ask if you want to borrow someone else’s song, whether it’s the melody, the beat, or the recording itself.

The case of Grand Upright Music, Ltd. v. Warner Bros. Records Inc. was a watershed moment in the story of sampling. Gilbert O’Sullivan took hip-hop artist Biz Markie to court for lifting part of his 1972 hit Alone Again (Naturally) without permission. Judge Kevin Duffy’s ruling, which opened with the biblical line “Thou shalt not steal,” made it unmistakably clear that both the composition and the sound recording were protected works. Because no license had been secured, the sampling was an infringement. The decision sent shockwaves through the music world, effectively shutting the door on the freewheeling era of unlicensed sampling and forcing record labels and artists to navigate a new, more formal system of clearances.

But even after this dramatic turning point, U.S. courts have remained divided. In the Sixth Circuit, the dispute centred on NWA’s use of a tiny guitar riff from George Clinton’s Get Off Your Ass and Jam. The court took a hard-line approach: any unauthorised sample, no matter how short or faint, was an infringement. This “bright-line rule” left no space for minor or de minimis copying, creating a heavy burden for genres like hip-hop that thrive on sampling.

The Ninth Circuit, however, saw things differently when Madonna’s hit “Vogue” borrowed a brief horn sound from “Love Break” Here, the court ruled in her favour, reasoning that the fragment was too minor to matter, and that the use was transformative with no real harm to the original. These two decisions capture the “circuit split”: one court demands absolute licensing, while another leaves room for context and creativity. For artists, this means uncertainty; what is infringement in one part of the country may be lawful in another.

Sampling’s challenges extend beyond direct copying. Interpolation, re-recording a musical element, can be just as risky. Michael Jackson’s Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ echoed Manu Dibango’s Soul Makossa chant, “Ma ma se, ma ma sa, ma ma coo sa,” without permission. Though the case was settled, it underscored how even small, recognisable borrowings can spark legal battles. By contrast, when the Black-Eyed Peas later used the exact phrase in “Clap Your Hands,” they sought a license, thereby avoiding conflict.

Together, these cases sketch an uneasy picture of sampling law in the U.S. Judicial inconsistency leaves musicians walking a fine line between innovation and infringement. The message is unavoidable: creativity may push boundaries, but legal awareness and licensing remain essential companions in that journey.

IV. CONCLUSION

Indian music laws feel ancient in a world where you can flip a forgotten gem into a viral reel overnight. We’re caught between creators who deserve recognition for their work and new artists wary that even a brief sample could spark legal trouble. In India, the Varaha Roopam controversy exemplifies this tension, demonstrating that courts are now prepared to take unlicensed sampling seriously. The solution lies not in more lawsuits, but in common-sense approaches: clear licensing rules, standardised permissions for sampling and interpolation, and innovative technology that ensures credit and royalties flow automatically to the original creators. Such measures can create an environment where creativity thrives, allowing new art to grow inspired by the past rather than hindered by it.

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