Amanda Lear says Miley Cyrus’s “Redlights” borrows from “The Sphinx,” her 1978 Eurodisco single. There’s no lawsuit, yet, and I don’t expect one. What Lear’s side wants is acknowledgment, which in practice means a retroactive songwriting credit. Should Miley give one? As a practical move, maybe. A credit is reasonably cheap and, as I’ll explain, isn’t an admission. And it would give Lear what she’s asking for.
What’s this about? Lear thanked Miley on Instagram “for this tribute to my song.” A day later she clarified to the press she never threatened a lawsuit. She says her label and the song’s publishers would like acknowledgment.
And when you listen, you won’t be shocked at all this. Here are both.
Now that you’ve heard them, understand this: I haven’t sat down for a good look at Redlights and The Sphinx. But I’ve opined on Musicologize before that songwriter credits, from a forensic musicologist’s perspective, get handed out too gladly. Olivia Rodrigo, for example, gave out a lot of credits back in 2021. I didn’t find it necessary. Beyoncé credited the Neptunes for barely alluding to “Milkshake,” and I didn’t think she needed to there either.
And I’m not reversing. In fact, at the risk of over-generalizing, handing out credits is, I’d worry, encouraging on the other side the tendency to see patterns, connect dots, and voice observations or even accusations where, as a forensic musicologist, I’d often discourage it. So if you expect me to tell Miley to hold the line here, that’d make sense, but while I haven’t changed my positions, they might be broadening.
If this were a complaint
It isn’t, and nobody seems to want it to be. If Lear or someone on her side had filed, my work would start about now. Some of it I can’t help doing extemporaneously, though. Prior art from the general neighborhood comes to mind immediately. “(Ghost) Riders in the Sky” is from 1948, and its melody leans on “When Johnny Comes Marching Home,” published in 1863. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” is from 1973, and almost anyone reading this can hum it. The first thing that occurred to me while I checked out “The Sphinx” was “El Cóndor Pasa,” which is one of Simon and Garfunkel’s greatest hits. And as it happens that melody has been through this before. Paul Simon knew the tune but thought it was old enough to be fair game. It was actually early 20th century, written by Daniel Alomía Robles in Peru, and Robles’s son pursued the matter. The credits got fixed and everybody moved on.
As to whether any of these have significant, much less conclusory, forensic value here, I won’t overstate it without due diligence. Generally though, they’re all legit factors.
What does a songwriting credit cost?
Who needs such hassles, amirite?
A credit is probably fairly easy. It lightly touches the composition and leaves the master alone. “Redlights” isn’t a single, it’s an album track, so streaming will likely be where most of its money lives. The published writers are Miley and Michael Pollack, so any share would come out of that split.
Compare that with the alternative. Even a claim that goes nowhere costs something to answer, and, heck, Miley is still waiting on a ruling in the “Flowers” case over Bruno Mars’s “When I Was Your Man.” I’m on the record that there’s nothing there either, by the way. But still, why open a second front over an album track? And against this nice lady.
Lear is being perfectly gracious about what I’m sure is her firm belief. A credit would probably cost Miley little and give Lear what she asked for.
One more thing: Lear didn’t write the music
“The Sphinx” has two writers. Anthony Monn, who also produced the record, wrote the music. Lear wrote the words, and Lear herself has said the lyrics are different. So Amanda Lear is mostly out here standing up for her old producer’s melody, 48 years later. Lear has called “The Sphinx” the best song she ever wrote. And this summer, before anyone had heard it, Miley told Wonderland that “Redlights” was her favorite song she’d ever written. So, whatever we might say these songs are, and perhaps share, they’re beloved by their artists. A melody claim would normally run to the melody’s writer, so the natural name to add next to Miley’s and Pollack’s would be Monn’s. Maybe Lear’s too, since the two of them share the song. Everyone’s heart seems to be in the right place. Nothing will surprise me.
Is a songwriting credit an admission of copying?
I’m not saying Miley copied anything. I haven’t taken a close enough look to say that or the opposite. Miley doesn’t have to believe she copied to sign off on a credit. I’d stress, the importance, increasingly I suppose, of understanding that credit shouldn’t be read as an admission. Sometimes it’s just a perfectly nice way out.
Did Stella Lefty copy Noah Kahan’s “Stick Season”?
Stella Lefty just took the Rodrigo route herself. She says she wasn’t thinking about Noah Kahan when she wrote “Boston,” and she gave him a writing credit anyway! His team pointed out a resemblance to “Stick Season” and her reasoning was beyond simple: “if this sounds like that, whatever, all good.”
And it does sound like that! But that’s not remotely the bar.
It’s perfectly reasonable to believe that, indeed, it wasn’t in her mind when she made “Boston.” That alone doesn’t settle anything, though. See “cryptomnesia.” Much more to the point, it needn’t have been. All those similarities you hear are real, but those elements amount to neither sufficient protectability in Kahan nor striking similarity in Lefty’s to infer copying or assert cryptomnesia. So, Lefty’s “if this sounds like that, whatever, all good” is absolutely charming, no doubt. But no, while that’s her prerogative, the bar matters. That’s why I do so many pre-release reviews, and it’s why plenty of infringement complaints do get filed.
Stop to think of it, as long as she’s handing out credits, she might give another track a listen. Recently my daughter came running up the stairs, iPhone in hand, to ask whether Stella Lefty’s “Misery” sounded too much like “A Million Dreams” from The Greatest Showman. Even I was surprised when my reflex reaction was, “Ooof, yeah, that maybe earns a look.” A longer one than “Boston” probably.
Interestingly, when I mentioned “Boston,” she was unaware of the scandal and not initially impressed at the similarity. Greatest Showman played on a loop in our house when my daughters were younger. That material is sacrosanct, I guess.