In 2025, we've seen Chris Brown, convicted of assaulting Rihanna in 2009, embark on a sell-out UK tour. Over in New York, fans have gathered outside a courthouse to support Sean Combs (known as Diddy) as he faced charges of running a sex trafficking operation and trafficking his ex-partner, Cassie Ventura. [He was cleared of racketeering and sex trafficking but found guilty of two counts of transportation for prostitution]. Male headliners have dominated major festivals across the world. Female musicians have spoken out about abuse, double standards, unequal pay, and systematic underrepresentation.
Misogyny is still alive and kicking – and the music industry is overdue for a reckoning.
After years of speaking to multiple musicians, and with the backdrop of high-profile producers, artists and music empires embroiled in scandal, Eliza Hatch, AKA Cheer Up Luv, who uses photography to investigate injustices and spotlight underrepresented voices, looks into the industry’s blatant problem with misogyny.
Here, she speaks with women working across all parts of the music industry and asks what form misogyny takes for them, and, crucially, if there’s any hope for meaningful change.
The insidious nature of misogyny within music has been well chronicled. In the UK last year, the Musicians' Census found that over 50% of women in the industry had experienced discrimination, and one third of female musicians had been sexually harassed. The ways this misogyny presents range from the quieter kind, which happens behind closed doors, to louder battles to share the stage with male acts. Across 50 festival lineups in Europe last year, men were on stage for 92% of headline performances.
Aside from outliers in the festival spaces like Glastonbury and Primavera, which are moving the dial, in the UK alone, three times as many male acts get booked at major festivals, with 63% of acts booked at major UK festivals being all-male. When interviewing professionals for this article, the resounding response was one of shock that these percentages weren’t even higher.
I caught up with Amy Love and Georgia South, AKA Nova Twins, a rock duo who were shortlisted for the 2022 Mercury Prize and received two nominations at the BRIT Awards in 2023, to find out more. “Some gatekeepers, who are majority male, want to relive their nostalgic days, leaning into their particular tastes,” says Amy. "Rather than elevate newer bands, they keep perpetuating the ‘indie rock all-male band heroes.’ In the UK, it always seems to be the Oasis, Pulp, Arctic Monkeys types of bands that dominate the headline slots.
“In our genre, I can’t think of any female rock/alt headliners who are about to dominate those slots. I enjoy those bands, but equally, I want to see more fierce femme power headlining and dominating too.”
This year, the reaction to male artists and producers accused of heinous abuses of power has felt unbearable. While Sean Combs was cleared of racketeering and sex trafficking (he was found guilty of two counts of transportation for prostitution), his accuser, Cassie Ventura, was subject to relentless online abuse – a trend that has impacted other female musicians, including Halle Bailey and Megan Thee Stallion.
It's happening at every level within the industry. Izzy Bee Phillips of the indie-rock band Black Honey tells me, "We have reports of women getting harassed at our shows, myself and my crew have been denied access to our own shows because they think we are ‘groupies’ whatever that means.
“I was assaulted by both the music industry and by men at the music uni I went to. I have been watching getting changed in a dressing room by a promoter who was kind of wolf-whistling at me while I was changing. I have been told by a male label head I was too emotionally unstable to sign which I know may not be a woman equality issue but I’m also not sure mental stability has ever stopped a man being signed. I know women who have been cornered by men in studio settings and come on to and given conditions. One of the best managers in music told me not to get mixed up in ‘all that silly feminism nonsense’ before telling me a story of how she got made to sit on a radio producer's lap in the 90s.”
More than ever, the music industry feels like a particularly charged environment, reckoning with an exploitative, predatory past and struggling to make changes in the present. “My whole experience in the industry has been shaped by being a woman. Being belittled, talked over, sexualised, trolled online,” says Milly Toomey, AKA Girli, a pop star whose work tackles themes of feminism, mental health, and queer culture.
She continues, “There’s not enough support for women in the industry; it’s a constant uphill battle to be heard and respected. I’ve experienced a lot of blatant homophobia online, and in more subtle ways in the industry - things like being asked to change pronouns in songs from singing about women romantically to men because it’s more “palatable”, or being made to feel like talking openly about my sexuality is limiting my career; invalidating my experience and queerness as an important part of my story and art.”
Across every inch of the industry, misogyny and prejudice towards women are prevalent. Generations of women have been discriminated against in music, in ways which were often considered perfectly acceptable at the time, from the erasure of female composers’ contributions to classical music, to the systematic discrimination against Black women in jazz, to the normalised exploitation of ‘baby groupies’ by famous male rockstars and the sexual abuse of women musicians. Sexism has endured but metamorphosed throughout the centuries.
According to Solana Baptiste, AKA Ssolana, “As a Black woman, I’ve felt that people have tried to put in a box genre-wise. The unfortunate reality is that although I am an artist, bassist and producer, I will always feel the pressure to do more in order to not be overlooked in this male-dominated industry.”
Sophia Mohan, AKA SOMOH adds, “It’s not uncommon to come to a soundcheck, introduce yourself as the artist, and then have your male bandmate be the first and only person to be asked any technical questions about your gig.”
In the present day, thanks to movements like #MeToo, the evolution of social media as a tool for expression and the progression of women’s rights, many artists have started to break their silence, including the musicians I’ve spoken to for this piece.
Indeed, Selin Macieira-Boşgelmez, one half of punk rock group Lambrini Girls, told me: “I don’t think I know a single woman who hasn’t experienced that [harassment]. Women's sheer existence is sexualised, and that means what women don’t get taken seriously.”
In the classical music scene, just 3.6% of pieces performed worldwide are written by women. It’s also an industry which adheres to strict, traditional and gendered dress codes.
Ellie Consta, founder of Her Ensemble, a free-form group that formed to redress the gender imbalance in classical music, explains that, “The dress codes for orchestras haven’t actually changed for hundreds of years, and there is a concern generally about maintaining tradition, even if the traditions are harmful.” Olivia Hughart, founder of Key of She Jazz, a nonprofit organisation dedicated to encouraging girls in jazz, spoke of the notable gaps in jazz education: “In jazz education, we often overlook key mentors like Mary Lou Williams, Marian McPartland, Clora Bryant, or Melba Liston.”
Speaking to saxophonist and flautist Alicia Gardener-Trejo, she spoke of the subtler forms of everyday sexism she experiences. “Being asked if I’m the singer even when carrying an instrument, there’s an expectation that if you’re a woman in jazz, you must be a singer. Turning up to the studio and being asked if I’m someone's girlfriend. Sound technicians assume you don’t know how to use the gear.”
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When looking at pop and contemporary music, the terms ‘industry plant’ and ‘nepo baby’ often crop up. They are used to describe musicians who are believed to have had industry help and can’t take the credit for their own success. While conversations around nepotism in the industry are usually more focused on class rather than gender, ‘industry plant’ is almost solely attributed to female artists.
“We’ve had experience with this,” says Georgia South of the genre-defying duo Nova Twins. “People assume that we’re manufactured just because of the way we look, which is pointed at our ethnicity and bold fashion choices. We always find it laughable when people think we’re industry plants, as most of the industry didn’t want anything to do with us in our early years because of the same reasons people accuse us of being industry plants now!”
“Women generally get labelled as industry plants more than men,” observes Nova Twins’ vocalist Amy Love. “It often feels like we have to prove ourselves time and time again before we have even opened our mouths, stepped onto the stage, or strummed a chord.”
While the term originated in the 2010s hip-hop messaging forums, it’s a conspiratorial notion which has become almost entirely female or fem-presenting-focused in the last decade, with online critics also targeting artists like Clairo, Billie Eilish, Wet Leg, The Last Dinner Party and Lola Young, to name a few.
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So, do we have any hope of the industry changing? When speaking to artists about this, the answer is ‘yes’ for some, but ‘no’ for many. Artist and songwriter Izzy Bee Philips from Black Honey reflects: “Sometimes things can feel equal for us, but they’re not for a lot of other women. Things are changing, but with all the progress, it’s glitchy, non-linear and not enough.”
"I have spent over half my 12-year career being the only woman in a room full of men. Where I feel like I have developed intense protection mechanisms to feel safe, and that I am now in therapy trying to undo.
“On a casual level, I have audience members asking how I play guitar with such small hands, unsolicited and bad advice from men about what guitar I should play and what I should wear. I have been silenced and told it was cooler for front women to give off a silent and mysterious vibe. I have watched men repeatedly patronise members of my team who are women.”
Looking back at the Music Census, data shows that Black, Asian, and other minority ethnic group women earn significantly less than white, able-bodied women. While women only account for 19% of the highest income bracket of musicians earning £70,000 or more per year, 35% of ethnic minority and disabled women earn £7,000 or less, compared with 25% of white and non-disabled women.
Queerphobia and misogynoir are also deep-rooted issues within the music industry. DJ Krystal Lake tells me, “We still live in a world where homophobia and misogyny are not just present, but often praised. You’ll hear songs like ‘Chi Chi Man’ by TOK where they talk about wanting to viciously murder gay people by burning them alive and somehow, these songs still hit the top of the charts.”
She continues: “One constant experience is the discomfort I feel when DJing at straight events. A lot of men jump the barricade to invade my personal space while I’m DJing. Even after I tell them to leave, many stay – or worse, try to get closer. Things only get handled when I become visibly angry or threaten to stop the music. Most of the time, the security that’s supposed to protect me does nothing. There have been times when a guard will remove the guy bothering me only to then use that moment as an excuse to flirt or try and get my number.”
I admit that so far I’ve painted a pretty bleak picture, but since starting this photography series, there have actually been some positive changes. After initially rejecting actions recommended by the Musicians Census, such as improving protections for freelance workers and protecting workers from sexual harassment by third parties, the UK Government in July introduced amendments to the Employment Rights Bills to address these exact issues.
Stronger laws against harassment, more robust rights and protections for freelancers will unequivocally have a positive effect on women, who in the notoriously unstable environment of music are often overqualified and underpaid compared to their male counterparts. To put this in perspective, female musicians earn on average £19,850 compared to £21,750 per annum for their male colleagues.
This is exactly why UK watchdog bodies such as the Creative Industries Independent Standards Authority (CIISA) were set up. The CIISA was formed in 2021 in the wake of TIME’S UP UK to uphold and improve standards of behaviour across the creative industries and to prevent and tackle all forms of bullying and harassment.
Last year, the CIISA launched the first-ever industry-endorsed CIISA Standards for the creative industries in February this year, setting out minimum expectations of behaviour for safe and inclusive working environments. “Our focus is on preventing and tackling harmful behaviours, many of which can disadvantage women. CIISA’s Standards address issues of safety and inclusivity that can affect women’s ability to thrive…” says Jen Smith, CEO of CIISA.
On a more grassroots level, as well as Her Ensemble and Key of She, organisations like We Are The Unheard Academy (WATU), Women in CTRL+, Girls of Grime, Ellevate, Black Lives In Music are influencing change within music and beyond.
Producer TĀLĀ, co-founder of artist management platform Ellevate, has found that, “75% of our clients are female and that's probably symptomatic of female artists in the industry feeling unsupported and unsafe in such a male-dominated environment.”
She tells me, “Being a music producer is extremely male-dominated, and there are certain preconceptions of who you are. From my experience, there is a presumption that it is a masculine role, so when you're feminine, you don't fit the box. I've had record labels and journalists ask if I actually produce my music myself…”
WATU was set up to address inequalities like the fact that just 3% of producers and 17% of famous songwriters in the UK are women. “WATU aims not only to shift these statistics, but to fundamentally reshape the industry’s structure through education, collaboration, and advocacy”, says founder Eve Horne. One of WATU’s most successful programs is an initiative called Mother’s Write, the UK’s first songwriting camp for mothers. “It’s a pioneering programme which offers paid residencies, collaborative writing sessions, and peer-to-peer mentoring in an inclusive environment, with childcare support,” says Horne.
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Initiatives like BLIM and WATU are key in not just addressing misogyny, but creating impactful solutions to tackle the inequalities which underpin it.
Mica Sefia, who is both a musical artist and project coordinator at BLIM, an organisation which addresses the inequality of opportunity for Black, Asian and Ethnically Diverse musicians, reflects on some of their impactful work. “One initiative that has stood out this year would be our collaboration with Glastonbury and WATU, ‘Worthy Rise’. It focuses on creating opportunities for women and gender expansive individuals from minority backgrounds to gain experience and access in live sound engineering.”
Mica's work is born of personal experience. “Each time I walk into a creative space that’s run predominantly by men, I never really know what to expect,” she tells me. “Whether it’s being sexualised, spoken down to or treated equally, I feel as women we are always vigilant even existing outside of work.”
So what next? When it comes to women’s safety, initiatives like Good Night Out Campaign are working with venues, festivals and event organisers to create safer spaces, train staff to prevent sexual violence in the nighttime industries. However, they can’t do it alone. “We are so often approached by venues, event organisers and festivals that would love to undergo our training but struggle to afford it in the current financial climate”, says the campaign’s communications coordinator, Estella Adeyeri.
These initiatives all show the demand for change. Tackling misogyny in music, despite the uphill battle, is possible and is happening, but it requires investment and a willingness from those who have the power to change it. The asks are simple. A future of music free from misogyny looks like: more investment. More role models. More intersectional policies. More women producers, writers, engineers, technicians and musicians. More women in positions of power at labels, management companies, bookers, agencies and festivals. More action to safeguard, create inclusive spaces and protect women both offline and online.
To create real, lasting change which benefits all women, there needs to be motivation and allyship from all.
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