October 15, 2026 - Music Observer

Who Owns the Catalog? Five Questions for Musicians Before They Sign, Sell or Hand Down the Work

Music Observer Staff on October 15, 2026

A songwriter or performer’s catalog can outlast the career, but only if someone can say who owns it and how. A New Orleans tax attorney explains entity classification, estate valuation and the questions a musician should settle before a sale, a partnership or a family handoff.

By Dr. Tamara Patzer

A song can earn money long after it is written. That is the appeal of a catalog, and it is also the trouble, because income that lasts for decades passes through many hands: co-writers, publishers, labels, managers, a spouse, children. Each of them has a claim on some part of the story, and the paperwork seldom keeps up. Todd M. Villarrubia, a New Orleans attorney who focuses on tax and estate planning, wrote Entrepreneurial B.E.A.S.T. Mode™ about the structures that hold valuable things together. His advice for owners of any asset applies to musicians with little adjustment: know who holds it, and know how.

Is a working musician a small business?

In the sense that matters for planning, yes. The U.S. Small Business Administration counts 36,207,130 small businesses in the United States, with 62.3 million employees⁴. A musician with a band, a booking agent, a studio and a merchandise line is running an enterprise whether or not it has a name. The enterprise has owners, contracts, income and risk, and all four need to be written down.

Question one: who holds the rights and the income?

The answer is often a patchwork. Some rights belong to the writer, some to a publisher, some to a company the musician formed, some to a collaborator. Income may flow through a manager’s account or a collection society before it reaches the musician. When the musician dies, becomes ill or wants to sell, someone has to trace each piece.

The book’s most repeated rule is a short one: “Wealth preservation depends not on what you own, but on how you own it.” A musician who keeps a single list of rights, who holds each, and where the contracts are kept is far ahead of one who relies on memory.

Question two: what entity holds the business side?

A band, a studio or a touring operation usually deserves a proper company, so that contracts, equipment and money sit in an entity and not in someone’s personal name. The IRS explains that an eligible entity can file Form 8832 to elect whether it is classified as a corporation, a partnership or an entity disregarded as separate from its owner¹. The legal form and the tax treatment are separate choices.

Villarrubia puts it plainly: “Every entity can be taxed differently depending on elections made with the IRS.” A musician who formed a company years ago, perhaps in a hurry, should ask whether the classification still fits. A band with several members faces an additional question, since a partnership among them may exist whether or not anyone signed anything. A written agreement settles who owns what before a quarrel does.

Question three: what happens if a member leaves?

Bands change. A drummer departs, a co-writer falls out, a founder wants to go solo. If the company’s papers say nothing, the answer is decided by whoever has the better lawyer or the louder voice. The agreement among owners should say how a departing member is bought out, who keeps the name and what happens to songs written together.

None of this is romantic, and all of it is cheaper to settle in a calm year than in a bad one. The book describes a pattern among families that keep their wealth: they settle the hard questions early and share the reasons behind them. A band is a kind of family, and it benefits from the same discipline.

Question four: what is the catalog worth to an estate?

The tax rules look at value on the day of death and not at what a family could spend. The IRS lists $15,000,000 per person as the federal basic exclusion amount for people who die in 2026². Most musicians and their families will be well below it. For those whose catalogs are valuable, the question is real, and the book frames it in one sentence: “Estate taxes are calculated on fair market value, not cash flow.”

A catalog that is worth a great deal on paper but pays modest royalties can leave heirs with a high valuation and little cash. Someone has to decide how the family would pay any tax, whether by selling a share, borrowing or using insurance. A licensed attorney and a valuation professional can model it. A musician who is far from the exclusion still benefits from the exercise, since it clarifies who gets what.

Question five: what do you want to happen?

Not what the law will do, but what you hope for. Should the family keep the catalog or sell it? Should one child manage it, or should a professional? Should part of the income support a cause, a school or a scholarship? Without an answer, the decision falls to others.

Villarrubia is direct about the cost of leaving it open. He writes, “Succession planning ensures that wealth endures and, more importantly, doesn’t fracture your family after you’re gone.” A letter of wishes, written in plain words and kept with the estate documents, is often the most useful page a musician can leave.

How big is the transfer that is coming?

Large. Cerulli Associates expects $124 trillion to pass between generations in the United States through 2048, including $105 trillion to heirs and $18 trillion to charity³. Some of that will be creative property. The musicians who plan now are the ones whose heirs will understand what they have.

What should a musician do this month?

Start small. Make a list of every song, recording and right, with the contracts that govern them. Name the people and companies that receive income. Find the formation papers of any company you own. Ask your attorney how it is classified for tax and whether an agreement among owners exists. Then ask your lawyer and your accountant to talk to each other.

Common questions

Should I sell my catalog? That depends on your goals, the offer and the tax consequences, and no article can answer it. Ask an attorney and a tax professional before you sign anything.

Do I need a will if I have a company? Yes. The company does not replace estate documents, and a licensed attorney can explain how the two fit together.

What if my co-writer and I never signed anything? Then you have found a task. A written agreement now is far easier than a dispute later.

Sources

About the author. Dr. Tamara Patzer is a publisher and former newspaper editor. She was on the staff of The Charlotte Sun when it was named a 2005 Pulitzer Prize finalist for its Hurricane Charley coverage.

About the source. Todd M. Villarrubia is an attorney with an LL.M. in Taxation and a Juris Doctorate. He is an Accredited Estate Planner, a Board Certified Expert in Estate Planning and Administration, and a Fiduciary Investment Advisor Representative. He is the author of Entrepreneurial B.E.A.S.T. Mode™. Wealth Planning Law Group, 101 W. Robert E. Lee Blvd., Ste 404, New Orleans, LA 70124. Phone: 504-982-8207; email: todd@lawealthplan.com; website: https://lawealthplan.com/?utm_source=newsanchored&utm_medium=music-observer&utm_campaign=top-1pct

Attorney advertising. Sponsored feature written on behalf of Todd M. Villarrubia. This article is general information, not legal or tax advice, and reading it does not create an attorney-client relationship. Results vary.

Novai’s “I Won’t Let U Hurt Me” Proves That Sometimes the Best Revenge Is Walking Away

Music Observer Staff on October 15, 2026

By: Marcus J. Keller

Pop music has spent decades convincing us that heartbreak is either the worst thing that ever happened or the greatest thing that ever happened, depending on whether the singer has reached the chorus yet. First you’re devastated. Then you’re liberated. Somewhere in between, a synthesizer swells, the drums kick in, and suddenly that worthless boyfriend has become the best personal development seminar money couldn’t buy.

Novai’s “I Won’t Let U Hurt Me” understands the formula. More importantly, it understands why the formula sometimes lies.

Written by Michael Stover, the song belongs to that long tradition of women announcing they’re finished tolerating men who mistake affection for an unlimited supply of second chances. But where lesser breakup anthems substitute attitude for substance, Novai finds something more interesting in the wreckage: uncertainty.

She’s angry. She’s hurt. She’s determined.

She’s also scared.

And that makes all the difference.

The opening lines establish the emotional arithmetic with refreshing bluntness: “You made me cry / Every time I trusted you.” No metaphysical speculation about love’s mysterious complexities. No attempts to make the villain fascinating. Somebody lied. Somebody believed him. Somebody suffered.

Next case.

Except Novai isn’t quite ready to close the file. The pain itself begins speaking, telling her it’s time to leave. That’s an effective bit of songwriting because it transforms suffering from an obstacle into a warning system. Her heartbreak isn’t merely something to survive anymore. It’s evidence that the situation has become intolerable.

Then comes the chorus, where Novai announces she won’t allow herself to be hurt again.

Not exactly a revolutionary sentiment. Neither is “I love you,” and people have managed to build a respectable number of worthwhile songs around that one.

What matters is whether the singer makes you believe it.

Novai does.

Her vocal approach avoids the exhausting contemporary habit of treating every emotional declaration as an Olympic event. She doesn’t need to climb three octaves to demonstrate that betrayal hurts. She lets the language do its work, adding intensity as the song progresses without turning the whole enterprise into a showcase for vocal gymnastics.

That’s called interpretation. More singers should try it.

Musically, “I Won’t Let U Hurt Me” operates within polished contemporary R&B and adult-contemporary pop. The arrangement favors accessibility over experimentation, providing a familiar setting for the vocal and the story. Nobody’s reinventing the wheel here, although wheels remain useful when you’re trying to get somewhere.

And this song is definitely going somewhere.

The crucial destination arrives in the second verse, when Novai admits, “I’m scared, but I’m willing to try.”

There it is.

The most convincing moment in the entire record.

Empowerment songs generally insist that liberation feels fantastic. This one acknowledges that liberation can feel terrifying, particularly when someone has spent so much time being diminished that independence seems like unfamiliar territory.

Leaving doesn’t instantly erase the emotional consequences of staying.

It merely stops adding new ones.

Stover’s lyric also contains a deliciously unsentimental contradiction. Novai thanks the man who mistreated her for making her stronger, then essentially invites him to find somebody else to hurt.

So much for enlightened forgiveness.

Good.

The problem with many inspirational breakup songs is their insistence that recovery requires moral perfection. The abandoned woman must rise above resentment, forgive everyone involved, discover her inner goddess, and preferably look spectacular while doing it.

Novai isn’t interested in becoming a motivational poster.

She’s furious.

She has earned the privilege.

That anger gives the performance some needed friction. Without it, “I Won’t Let U Hurt Me” might dissolve into another pleasant affirmation about knowing your worth. With it, the song becomes a more believable account of someone whose self-respect has finally overtaken her attachment.

There’s a difference between understanding that you deserve better and being prepared to act on that understanding. Novai makes the distance between those two conditions the record’s emotional territory.

The song also gains perspective alongside “No Regrets,” Novai’s Top 15 UK iTunes hit. Where that single celebrates the exhilaration of escaping emotional captivity, “I Won’t Let U Hurt Me” captures the less glamorous moment when the door is still closed and somebody has to summon the courage to open it.

One is about freedom.

The other is about choosing it.

That distinction matters because pop’s favorite version of independence generally begins after the difficult decisions have already been made. Novai’s song recognizes that the decision itself deserves a chorus.

And although its musical language is conventional, its emotional progression feels earned. The repetition reinforces the central declaration, while the performance gradually shifts from wounded recollection toward unmistakable resolve.

By the conclusion, she’s no longer asking what went wrong.

She’s deciding what won’t happen again.

A modest victory, perhaps. No grand philosophical revelation. No miraculous transformation. No guarantee that the next romance will be any better than the last.

Just a woman deciding that her future isn’t another man’s property.

In an industry that frequently confuses empowerment with volume, attitude, and expensive production, that’s a message worth hearing.

The verdict: Novai doesn’t reinvent the breakup anthem. She gives it something more valuable than novelty: emotional credibility. Stover supplies the plainspoken confrontation, Novai supplies the conviction, and together they turn an ordinary declaration of independence into a believable act of self-preservation.

The boyfriend loses his audience.

The singer gets her life back.

Ben Jarrell and the Night Sights Bring Storytelling and Southern Rock Together

Music Observer Staff on October 15, 2026

From reckless nights and questionable decisions to heartbreak and the stranger sides of everyday life, Ben Jarrell and the Night Sights have a talent for finding stories worth turning into songs. Their growing catalog is filled with colorful characters, familiar emotions and a healthy appreciation for the unpredictable, bringing together the storytelling traditions of country music with the attitude of rock and roll.

With their latest release, “Light My Way,” joining a collection of tracks that includes “Trucker and a UFO,” “Wanna Get Out of Here” and “Rebecca,” the band continues to give listeners plenty of reasons to explore their music.

One of the most interesting things about Ben Jarrell and the Night Sights is the variety of stories they choose to tell. Rather than approaching every song from the same emotional perspective, their writing moves between humor, romance, regret and the consequences of people’s decisions.

“Trucker and a UFO” is a particularly memorable example. Even its title captures the band’s willingness to embrace unusual ideas, offering the kind of unexpected premise that immediately stands out within a crowded music scene.

That playful side becomes even more apparent on “Wanna Get Out of Here.”

Inspired by hot rods, bad decisions and a guitar lick that helped bring the song together, the track follows two people living on the fringes of small-town society who are determined to enjoy themselves. There’s a deliberately mischievous attitude behind the writing, with humor and reckless abandon driving the story.

It’s the kind of subject that suits the band’s country-rock personality, where imperfect characters and questionable choices can make for some of the most entertaining material.

But Ben Jarrell and the Night Sights aren’t exclusively interested in having a good time.

“Rebecca” reveals a considerably more melancholy side of their songwriting. Centered around the breakdown of true love, the song was inspired by watching a fellow musician repeatedly make decisions that damaged his own life.

Where “Wanna Get Out of Here” finds humor in recklessness, “Rebecca” explores what happens when those kinds of choices begin carrying real emotional consequences.

Together, the two songs demonstrate the range within the band’s writing. One celebrates the excitement of throwing caution aside, while the other considers the sadness that can follow when things fall apart.

That contrast also makes their latest release, “Light My Way,” an interesting addition to the catalog. While the band hasn’t shared the individual story behind the song, its arrival continues a run of releases that have introduced listeners to different sides of their musical identity.

The response to their music has been encouraging, too. “Trucker and a UFO” has accumulated more than 21,000 Spotify streams, while “Wanna Get Out of Here” has passed 10,000, showing a growing interest in the band’s distinctive approach to storytelling.

For Ben Jarrell and the Night Sights, the appeal lies in their ability to make room for both the ridiculous and the deeply human.

Whether they’re exploring small-town adventures, relationships falling apart or introducing another chapter with “Light My Way,” their music reflects an understanding that life rarely follows a straightforward script.

And sometimes, the best songs come from the moments when everything goes a little off course.

https://open.spotify.com/track/6EDsK3XEJOIAfndaGrBCGw?si=fe152d4909cd466c

PolishManiac Turns Personal Struggles Into Strength on New Rock Single ‘Until I Breathe’

Music Observer Staff on October 15, 2026

There are moments when life becomes so overwhelming that simply finding the strength to carry on can feel like an achievement. For UK-based alternative rock artist PolishManiac, those moments have become the inspiration behind his latest single, “Until I Breathe,” a powerful reminder that even when things feel impossible, giving up doesn’t have to be the answer.

Behind PolishManiac is songwriter, guitarist, and producer Mateusz, whose music has consistently explored the more complicated sides of human emotion. Blending acoustic rock with heavier alternative influences, he has developed a sound built around expressive guitar work, personal storytelling, and the ability to turn difficult experiences into something listeners can connect with.

His latest release takes that approach in a particularly personal direction. “Until I Breathe” was inspired by the exhaustion and frustration Mateusz has experienced while pursuing his ambitions and navigating life’s challenges. Rather than disguising those feelings, he wanted to acknowledge how difficult it can be to keep fighting for something when progress feels painfully slow.

The song also addresses a much wider concern surrounding mental health, particularly the feelings of helplessness and isolation that can contribute to emotional crises and suicidal thoughts.

Instead of offering easy answers, PolishManiac wanted the track to feel like reassurance from someone who understands that struggle. Its message is one of persistence, encouraging listeners to hold on even when they feel as though they’re facing everything alone.

That determination carries directly into the music itself. Beginning with an acoustic guitar riff, “Until I Breathe” gradually develops into a fuller rock arrangement. The growing instrumentation mirrors the tension within the lyrics, as the narrator reaches a breaking point and struggles with the decision to continue.

Following the second chorus, the energy briefly settles before returning with renewed intensity, eventually building towards a hard rock finale featuring a fast guitar solo.

It’s a fitting musical progression for a song concerned with finding strength when it seems to have disappeared.

The release also arrives as PolishManiac continues expanding his audience. His earlier single “Vagabond” has become a standout success, accumulating over 79,000 Spotify streams, while “Kid” has surpassed 31,000. Other tracks, including “With the Devil,” “Wings” and “Happiness,” have also attracted thousands of listeners.

These releases have helped establish a catalogue that moves between quieter reflection and more forceful rock arrangements.

His previous EP, Lost, explored uncertainty, personal growth and the feeling of watching life move forward while questioning your own direction. Songs such as “Kid” captured that emotional crossroads, allowing listeners to recognise their own experiences within the music.

“Until I Breathe” feels like a natural continuation of those themes, but with a greater sense of determination.

Where earlier material often examined the difficulty of finding direction, this single concentrates on the decision to keep moving, regardless of how uncertain the road ahead might be.

For PolishManiac, the message is ultimately straightforward. Strength doesn’t always mean feeling confident or having everything figured out. Sometimes, it simply means deciding to try again tomorrow.

https://open.spotify.com/track/3gXaKbQRSuGVWpz5nIA3QA?si=91f65905fd024e65