Someone Stole Your Music: What to Do First, Second, and Third

What should I do the moment I find my music stolen?

Document it. Before you contact anyone, before you comment, before you send a single message, get proof of the infringement exactly as it stands right now. The second an infringer knows you've noticed, they can change the title, swap the audio, make the upload private, or delete the whole thing. Your evidence walks out the door with it.

Screenshot or screen-record the infringing content in its current state. You want the full URL visible, the upload date, the title, the channel or account name, and the view or play count. If it's a video, capture the exact segment that matches your work so you can point to the timestamp later.

Then save the metadata around it. Timestamp your screenshot, either with the system clock visible or by exporting a dated PDF. Note the ISRC of your original recording and the track name if the theft is on a streaming service, because that's how you prove which recording is yours. A clean evidence file is what makes every later step faster and more credible.

Second: use the platform's own copyright form

Once you've got proof, the fastest free move is the platform's own takedown tool. Every major service has one, because US law (the DMCA) gives them a safe harbor from liability only if they pull infringing content quickly once a valid notice comes in. That legal pressure is working in your favor, so use it before you spend a dollar on anything else.

On YouTube, use the copyright complaint form, which triggers a removal request rather than a Content ID dispute (those are two different systems). Spotify has a rights management form, though if the fraudulent upload came through a distributor, contacting that distributor is often faster. SoundCloud and TikTok both run copyright infringement forms. For Facebook and Instagram, Meta's Rights Manager or its DMCA agent handles it. If a platform has no obvious form, look up its registered agent in the US Copyright Office's Designated Agent Directory and send the notice there directly.

A valid takedown notice has to contain six things under the statute: your signature, identification of the work being infringed, the location (URL) of the infringing material, your contact info, a good-faith statement that the use isn't authorized, and a statement under penalty of perjury that you're the owner or authorized to act for them. The platform forms walk you through all six. Most act on a compliant notice within 1 to 10 business days. The full field-by-field walkthrough is in the DMCA takedown guide.

If you're in Canada, know that your home country doesn't force hosting providers to take content down. Canada runs a notice-and-notice system where the ISP just forwards your complaint to the subscriber and isn't required to remove anything. The big platforms (YouTube, Spotify, TikTok) are US companies and apply DMCA-style takedowns globally, so a Canadian artist can use these same forms regardless of where they live. The cross-border details are in the Canada vs US copyright guide.

What happens if the infringer files a counter-notice?

Sometimes the platform pulls the content, then the uploader pushes back with a counter-notice claiming it was removed by mistake. This is built into the system. Their counter-notice has to include their signature, identification of the removed material, a good-faith statement that it came down by error, their contact info, consent to federal court jurisdiction, and the same penalty-of-perjury line you signed.

The part that catches people off guard: once a valid counter-notice lands, the platform must restore the material no sooner than 10 and no later than 14 business days later, unless you file an actual lawsuit and notify the platform before that window closes. A counter-notice forces a decision. Either you let it go, or you escalate to court. There's no middle setting where the platform keeps it down for you indefinitely.

If the theft is on YouTube and it's a Content ID claim rather than a flat-out reupload, the dispute path runs on different timers (the claimant gets 30 days to respond to a dispute, 7 days to respond to an appeal). That whole flow has its own guide on Content ID for indie artists.

Third: send a cease and desist

If the platform form didn't resolve it, or the infringement is somewhere a takedown form doesn't reach (a commercial product, a brand's ad, a website you don't control), the next rung is a cease and desist. A C&D is a formal written demand telling the infringer to stop, acknowledge your rights, and sometimes pay up. It is not a court filing. It's the shot across the bow before litigation.

You can write and send one yourself. But an attorney-drafted letter on a law firm's letterhead carries more weight and is less likely to get ignored as a form letter someone copied off the internet. Whichever way you go, the letter should name your copyright (your registration number or pending application if you have one), the specific infringing URL or product, a clear demand to stop, a deadline (10 to 14 days is typical), and a preservation demand telling them not to destroy any records, since you may need those if this ends up in court.

Against an anonymous reuploader who's already dodging platform takedowns, a C&D usually does nothing. You're better off staying on the platform-enforcement track or moving to a formal claim.

When do I escalate to a lawsuit or small claims?

Escalation is about matching the tool to the situation. The ladder runs from cheapest to heaviest.

The Copyright Claims Board is the option most indie artists don't know exists. It opened in June 2022 as a voluntary small-claims tribunal for copyright, handling claims up to $30,000 per proceeding, and you don't need a lawyer. It hears infringement claims and even section 512(f) claims over bogus takedowns. The catch is that the other side can opt out and force the dispute into federal court, and you need a registration or a pending application to file.

Which brings up the thing that determines how much leverage you actually have: registration. To sue over a US work in federal court at all, you have to register the copyright first. Register before the infringement started, or within three months of first publishing, and statutory damages run $750 to $30,000 per work, up to $150,000 if the infringement was willful. Register late and you're limited to actual damages only, which for a small artist often isn't worth the fight. That's why registering early is the cheapest insurance you can buy, and it's covered in the how to copyright a song guide and the pillar.

Before you file anything, make sure your own release has a clean ISRC and complete credits, because that's the proof a takedown leans on. Run it through the free metadata checker to catch missing codes or blank fields. →

If you're in Canada, the ladder looks different past the platform stage. There's no CCB equivalent, you don't need to register to sue, and forcing removal of content hosted on a Canadian service usually takes a court order rather than a takedown notice. The Canada vs US copyright guide breaks down where the two systems split.