Can a Rhythm Be Copyrighted? Inside the Dembow Lawsuit That Could Reshape Music Law

Introduction

Music has always borrowed from what came before. Blues gave rise to rock and roll. Jazz influenced hip-hop. Dancehall helped shape reggaeton. Entire genres have evolved by building upon musical traditions that span generations. Yet one of the most closely watched copyright lawsuits in recent years asks a question that strikes at the very foundation of modern music production: Can the rhythmic pattern that helped define an entire musical genre receive copyright protection?

That question lies at the center of Browne et al. v. Donalds et al., a federal copyright lawsuit pending before the United States District Court for the Central District of California. The case has drawn international attention because it names more than one hundred defendants—including many of the biggest names in Latin music—and challenges the use of one of the most recognizable rhythmic patterns in popular music: the dembow.

The plaintiffs are legendary Jamaican producers Cleveland "Clevie" Browne and the estate of Wycliffe "Steely" Johnson, better known collectively as Steely & Clevie. They contend that hundreds—if not thousands—of reggaeton recordings copied protected elements of their copyrighted works (compositions and recordings) without authorization. Among the defendants are artists, producers, songwriters, record labels, music publishers, and distributors associated with recordings by performers such as Bad Bunny, Daddy Yankee, Karol G, J Balvin, Ozuna, Wisin & Yandel, Don Omar, Luis Fonsi, Rauw Alejandro, Pitbull, and many others.

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The media has often summarized the lawsuit with a provocative headline: "The creators of the dembow are trying to copyright a rhythm." While attention-grabbing, that description oversimplifies what the lawsuit is actually about.

The plaintiffs are not claiming ownership of reggaeton as a genre. They are not asserting exclusive rights over every kick-and-snare rhythm, every dancehall beat, or even the word dembow. Instead, they argue that numerous songs unlawfully copied a specific combination of original expressive elements embodied in their copyrighted recordings and compositions—including particular drum-machine programming, rhythmic sequencing, bass movement, percussion arrangements, timbre, and performance choices.

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The defendants, on the other hand, argue that the lawsuit attempts to monopolize musical building blocks that copyright law has never protected. According to their position, the similarities identified by the plaintiffs consist primarily of common rhythmic conventions, genre-defining characteristics, and musical ideas that belong to everyone rather than any individual creator.

For decades, U.S. copyright law has recognized a fundamental principle: copyright protects original expression—not ideas. As a result, this case raises some of the most significant copyright questions the music industry has faced in years:

  • Can a rhythmic pattern be sufficiently original to receive copyright protection?

  • Where is the line between a musical idea and protectable expression?

  • When does inspiration become unlawful copying?

  • Does using the same groove constitute infringement, or must a plaintiff prove that specific expressive elements were copied?

The answers could extend far beyond reggaeton. The outcome may influence future disputes involving hip-hop, electronic music, sampling, beat production, and other genres that rely heavily on repeated rhythmic structures and digital production techniques.

This article examines the lawsuit in detail, explains the legal arguments advanced by both sides, analyzes the court's rulings to date, and explores why many copyright lawyers believe this case could become one of the most important music copyright decisions of the decade.

The Birth of the Dembow: How a Jamaican Rhythm Changed Global Music

To understand the legal controversy, it is first necessary to understand the music. The term "dembow" is often used to describe a musical genre, a rhythmic pattern, a production style, or even an entire cultural movement. Depending on who is using the term, it may refer to different—but closely related—concepts. Understanding that distinction requires looking back more than thirty-five years.

During the late 1980s, Jamaica's dancehall scene was undergoing a technological revolution. Producers increasingly relied on drum machines, synthesizers, and digital samplers rather than traditional live bands. These new production techniques made it possible to create reusable instrumental tracks—known throughout reggae and dancehall culture as riddims—over which multiple artists could record different songs.

Unlike in many other genres, the riddim itself often became just as recognizable as the vocal performance. Numerous artists could record completely different songs using the exact same instrumental backing, each creating an independently successful recording while sharing the same underlying groove. This practice became one of the defining characteristics of Jamaican dancehall and would later profoundly influence reggaeton.

Among the most influential producers of this period were Wycliffe "Steely" Johnson and Cleveland "Clevie" Browne, collectively known as Steely & Clevie. Working throughout the late 1980s and early 1990s, they produced dozens of dancehall recordings that helped redefine the sound of Jamaican popular music. Their production style emphasized:

  • digital drum programming;

  • syncopated kick and snare patterns;

  • electronic percussion;

  • minimalist bass lines;

  • repetitive rhythmic loops designed for dancing.

Many of these production techniques later became foundational elements of modern reggaeton. One of the central issues in the litigation concerns three related recordings frequently mentioned throughout the pleadings:

  • Fish Market

  • Pounder Riddim

  • Dem Bow

Although media coverage often treats these as interchangeable, they are not identical. According to the plaintiffs, "Fish Market" is the original instrumental recording created by Steely & Clevie. That instrumental later became associated with what is commonly referred to as the Pounder Riddim, a reusable backing track over which different artists performed. One of those recordings was "Dem Bow," performed by Jamaican artist Shabba Ranks and released in 1990.

Ironically, while the lawsuit has become known internationally as the "Dembow case," the plaintiffs' allegations focus primarily on the copyrighted recordings and musical works underlying these productions—not simply on the song Dem Bow itself.

During the early 1990s, producers and DJs in Puerto Rico began incorporating Jamaican dancehall rhythms into Spanish-language recordings. Over time, local producers modified the rhythm, increased its tempo, altered the percussion, introduced new bass patterns, and blended it with influences from hip-hop, Latin music, salsa, bomba, plena, and other genres.

What emerged was not merely a copy of Jamaican dancehall. It became an entirely new musical movement that eventually evolved into reggaeton. By the late 1990s and early 2000s, artists such as Daddy Yankee, Don Omar, Tego Calderón, Wisin & Yandel, Héctor & Tito, Ivy Queen, and many others had helped transform the rhythmic foundation inherited from dancehall into a globally recognized sound.

Today, variations of that rhythm appear in countless recordings across reggaeton, Latin trap, pop, EDM, and other genres.

The plaintiffs in the lawsuit contend that later producers did more than simply draw inspiration from Jamaican dancehall. According to the complaint, many recordings copied protected expressive elements embodied in Steely & Clevie's copyrighted works. The defendants see the matter very differently. They argue that what spread from Jamaica to Puerto Rico was not a protected recording but a musical style—a collection of rhythmic conventions and genre characteristics that copyright law has never treated as exclusive property.

That disagreement raises one of copyright law's oldest and most difficult questions: When does borrowing from a musical tradition become unlawful copying of protected expression? The answer requires understanding one of copyright law's most fundamental principles: the distinction between an idea and its expression.

What Are the Plaintiffs Actually Claiming?

The plaintiffs are not asking the court to declare that they own every song built around the dembow rhythm. Nor are they claiming exclusive rights over reggaeton as a musical genre. Instead, they argue that hundreds of commercially released songs copied specific original expressive elements contained in their copyrighted musical works and sound recordings without authorization.

One of the foundational principles of copyright law is that it protects original expression, not ideas, concepts, systems, methods, or artistic styles. For that reason, no one can own:

  • jazz;

  • salsa;

  • hip-hop;

  • country music;

  • dancehall;

  • reggaeton;

  • or any other musical genre.

Likewise, copyright does not ordinarily protect broad musical conventions such as common chord progressions, time signatures, scales, or general rhythmic styles. If the plaintiffs were simply claiming ownership of "reggaeton" or "the dembow beat," their lawsuit would likely face significant legal obstacles from the outset. Instead, their theory is considerably narrower.

According to the complaint, Steely & Clevie created original copyrighted works embodied in recordings such as Fish Market and related compositions that later became associated with what the music industry commonly refers to as the Pounder Riddim. They allege that numerous later recordings did not merely draw inspiration from those works but instead copied protectable expressive elements that, when considered together, constitute original authorship under the Copyright Act. Among the elements identified throughout the pleadings are allegations concerning:

  • drum-machine programming;

  • rhythmic sequencing;

  • percussion arrangement;

  • bass movement;

  • instrumental layering;

  • timbre and sonic texture;

  • selection and arrangement of musical elements;

  • and the overall combination of those expressive components.

The plaintiffs argue that the originality lies in the particular combination of these elements as fixed in their copyrighted works. That distinction is critical because copyright frequently protects a creative selection or arrangement of otherwise unprotectable components.

Individual musical building blocks are frequently not protected by copyright. For example:

  • a C major chord;

  • a 4/4 time signature;

  • a syncopated rhythm;

  • a descending bass line;

  • a snare on beats two and four.

Standing alone, these elements generally belong to the public domain of musical language. However, U.S. copyright law has long recognized that an author's selection, coordination, and arrangement of unprotectable elements may itself constitute protectable expression if the combination reflects sufficient originality. Whether that combination is sufficiently original—and whether later recordings actually copied it—are among the central questions the litigation seeks to answer.

The scope of the lawsuit is extraordinary. Rather than targeting a single artist or recording, the complaint names more than one hundred defendants, including recording artists, producers, songwriters, publishers, record labels, distributors, and related music companies. According to the plaintiffs, numerous commercially successful reggaeton recordings allegedly copied protected elements derived from the same original works. As a result, the complaint identifies a vast catalog of songs released over several decades that allegedly infringe the plaintiffs' copyrights.

Unlike many copyright disputes involving books or photographs, this lawsuit cannot be resolved simply by placing two works side by side and asking whether they "look alike." Instead, the parties rely extensively on expert musicologists. Musicologists analyze musical works at a technical level, examining elements such as: rhythm; melody; harmony; tempo; instrumentation; and orchestration;

Both sides have retained experts who reach dramatically different conclusions regarding the similarities between the plaintiffs' works and the accused recordings. Those competing expert opinions have become one of the defining features of the litigation and explain why the case has survived several attempts at early dismissal.

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The Defendants' Position: Why They Argue the Dembow Cannot Be Monopolized

Defendants respond with a fundamental principle of copyright law: Copyright protects original expression—not musical ideas. The defendants do not necessarily dispute the historical influence of Steely & Clevie on dancehall or the broader evolution of reggaeton. Instead, they argue that the plaintiffs seek exclusive rights over musical building blocks that copyright law has never protected.

One of the oldest principles in American copyright law is known as the idea-expression dichotomy. The Copyright Act protects the way an idea is expressed—not the idea itself. For example: an author can own a particular novel. But no one owns the idea of a detective solving a murder. Music follows the same rule. A composer may own a particular melody, arrangement, or recording. But copyright generally does not extend to abstract musical concepts such as musical styles, genres, grooves, common rhythms or chord progressions. According to the defendants, the rhythmic characteristics identified by the plaintiffs fall on the "idea" side of that legal line rather than the "expression" side.

Another important defense raised throughout music copyright litigation is the doctrine known as scènes à faire. Originally developed in literary and film cases, the doctrine provides that elements naturally flowing from a particular subject matter are not protectable because they are expected characteristics of that type of work. For example, a Western movie will likely include: horses; cowboys; deserts; and revolvers. Those elements are so common to their respective genres that no one may claim exclusive ownership over them. The defendants argue that the same principle applies here. According to their position, many of the rhythmic characteristics identified by the plaintiffs have become defining conventions of dancehall and reggaeton.

Even if the plaintiffs establish that portions of their works are copyrightable, another doctrine may significantly limit the scope of protection. This concept is often referred to as thin copyright. Some creative works contain relatively few original elements because they are built primarily from components already found in the public domain. When that occurs, courts often recognize that copyright protection exists—but only within a very narrow range. In practical terms, this means infringement may require proof of very close copying, rather than merely demonstrating general similarity. The defendants contend that, even assuming the plaintiffs possess valid copyrights, the protection afforded to those rhythmic elements should be considered extremely limited because they consist largely of common musical building blocks.

Another central questions in every copyright infringement case is whether the defendant copied protected expression, not merely whether two works sound alike. This inquiry is known as substantial similarity. Courts do not simply ask: "Do these songs sound similar?" Instead, they ask a more nuanced question: Are the protectable expressive elements of the plaintiff's work substantially similar to those appearing in the defendant's work? Two songs may sound similar because they share tempo, instrumentation and rhythmic style. Yet none of those similarities necessarily establish copyright infringement.

Additionally, perhaps the defendants' broadest argument is that the evolution of music depends on artists drawing inspiration from prior generations. Every musical genre develops by borrowing techniques, rhythms, instrumentation, and stylistic influences from earlier works. According to the defense, recognizing exclusive rights over the rhythmic characteristics identified in the complaint would fundamentally alter the way music has evolved for centuries.

Ultimately, the litigation is not about whether Steely & Clevie influenced reggaeton. Instead, the legal question is much narrower—and much more difficult: At what point does a shared musical influence become unlawful copying of protected expression?

Why the Court Refused to Dismiss the Case

An important development in the Dembow litigation occurred in July 2026, when Judge André Birotte Jr. denied much of the defendants' motion for summary judgment. News headlines quickly interpreted the ruling as a major victory for the plaintiffs. Others portrayed it as proof that the court had recognized copyright protection in the dembow rhythm itself. Neither interpretation is necessarily accurate. The court did not rule that the plaintiffs own the dembow rhythm. Nor did it conclude that the defendants infringed the plaintiffs' copyrights. Instead, the ruling reflected something much narrower—and far more common in complex copyright litigation. The judge concluded that several material factual disputes remained unresolved and therefore should be decided by a jury rather than by the court on summary judgment.

The primary reason the court declined to dispose of the case was the presence of sharply conflicting expert testimony. Music copyright cases frequently depend upon expert musicologists. In this case, both sides retained experienced musicologists who reached fundamentally different conclusions. The plaintiffs' experts concluded that numerous accused recordings copied original expressive elements contained in Steely & Clevie's copyrighted works. The defendants' experts concluded that the alleged similarities consisted primarily of commonplace rhythmic conventions, genre characteristics, and unprotectable musical ideas. Those conflicting opinions created classic factual disputes that a jury—not the judge—must ultimately resolve.

The likely most important takeaway from the ruling is what the court did not decide. The court did not hold that:

  • the dembow rhythm is copyrightable;

  • Steely & Clevie own reggaeton;

  • every accused song infringes copyright;

  • the plaintiffs' experts are correct;

  • or the defendants' experts are incorrect.

Those questions remain unresolved. Instead, the court concluded that sufficient evidence existed for a reasonable jury to hear both sides and determine which expert testimony is more persuasive.

Why This Ruling Matters Beyond Reggaeton

Although the case centers on Caribbean music, Judge Birotte's ruling carries implications far beyond reggaeton. Modern music production increasingly relies upon:

  • digital drum programming;

  • loops;

  • beat construction;

  • software instruments;

  • production templates;

  • electronic sequencing;

  • and AI-assisted composition.

As these production methods become more prevalent, courts will continue confronting difficult questions concerning the boundary between protectable expression and shared musical language. The Dembow case may become one of the leading authorities addressing those issues. For producers, songwriters, publishers, and entertainment lawyers, the court's decision signals that disputes involving rhythm, production techniques, and digital arrangement cannot always be resolved through broad legal principles alone.

(If you’d like to learn more about AI and music, like can AI generated music be protected by copyright, read this article.)

What Happens Next?

Because the court found genuine disputes of material fact, the litigation continues. The parties will have the opportunity to present:

  • expert testimony;

  • documentary evidence;

  • musicological analysis;

  • witness testimony;

  • and legal arguments

Ultimately, the jury—not the judge—may determine whether the similarities identified by the plaintiffs represent protected expression or simply the shared vocabulary of modern popular music.

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