You have leverage, otherwise you wouldn’t have been put up on that poster. Someone needs you, probably more than you need them. Even if you need them just as much, let’s talk about using an offer as a pathway to getting what you are due.
This is something I’ve had to learn the hard way. However, that’s where the lesson worth learning begins. The real realization comes in understanding, yo, my image can even be on a poster, and that’s something that implies a certain advantage exists for me already. The question is how am I using that to get what I need as well?
There’s a weird way the logic can be inclined and tend towards. It usually goes that since the gig is locked in (I mean, I am on the poster) so the payment is too, because these guys get it. No please. Most times, they in fact do not get it.
I’ve seen my own face on posters for shows where nobody had sat down with me to talk terms. Yes. I mean people getting your images from your social media page and just announcing to the world and yourself that you shall be at their show. Not the date, not the fee, not what was expected of me. Of course, that’s really bizarre, and I made that known in apposite terms at the time.
However, the more usual experience has been that my availability and my willingness, discussed over a call or WhatsApp, are deemed confirmation. Where I told myself, “We shall discuss payment terms eventually,” or “the contract is going to follow through any day now”, I have usually ended up disappointed. I realized in those cases that I should have considered rehearsal space payments, instrumentalist facilitation and outfit costs and it was too late then, to make those considerations known.
One of the first things I studied in law was contract law. There’s knowing the rules and what the statute says. It has however, been an experience applying the risks associated with transacting with humans to business decisions. From providing services before the contract was signed, or providing services before payment was cleared, the risk for the party that does not apply their leverage when they have it has meant non-payment and absurd agreement disputes. This is why the essence of contracts, which is “agreement” or “meeting of the minds,” is an actual legal requirement for the existence of a valid contract. Where one party thinks they are receiving one thing and receive another thing, the reverse engineering of scenario can arrived at something that voids what seems intact and enforceable.
So, this one is for you, the artist who just got that exciting call: “We’d love to have you perform!”
Before you say yes, before you start rehearsing, before your image goes up anywhere, let’s talk about how to think about the deal, and what to put in writing.
A contract is leverage, written down
Most of us think of a contract as the thing you pull out when everything has gone wrong. Practice has taught me the opposite. A good contract does most of its work the moment it’s signed, and half the time even as it is being negotiated by conveying terms in ways that make certain things clear.
Here’s how I think about it.
Each side has something the other needs. The law calls the exchange of that consideration. You need entertainment services; I need money. One party gain something, and another party loses something else, for the agreement to happen and for the contract to be performed. A contract simply writes those needs down and ties them together, so both of you have a reason to keep your word.
Picture a simple performance deal:
- You need to be paid, fairly, for your time and your craft.
- They need an artist on the bill who actually shows up and delivers, so their event works.
So, you say, “If you really want me to perform, let’s start with a 50% deposit.” They come back with, “Fine, but we need you at the venue by 6pm for soundcheck, or the rest of the payment doesn’t come through.” And just like that, you both have skin in the game. You won’t stroll in late, because your balance depends on it. They won’t ghost you, because they’ve already paid half. That’s a contract doing exactly what it should.
Why court shouldn’t be your plan A
So, the magic isn’t in just having a contract but in understanding how that agreement can be used. Enforcement is something no one wants to go through. It makes things ugly, and it’s expensive, but in business, we need all the help we can get, and the courts have the power to make you do what you said you would with something called specific performance.
It doesn’t change the fact that enforcing a contract in court is a long road. It takes time, money and a lot of patience. It’s also a bit redundant to tend in that direction when you were signing the contract to earn a living in the first place. Having the financial resources for court fees and lawyers becomes something totally out of the question for most creatives therefore.
I once represented a client who was owed a good amount of money. When we pushed, the other side basically shrugged and said, “Okay, take me to court.” They weren’t worried at all. They knew how long that road is, and they were counting on us not wanting to walk it and they were right. A whole clause on dispute resolution wasn’t worth much when push came to shove. They called our bluff and got away with it.
Courts matter, and having things in writing makes any claim much stronger. But for most of us, suing over one show fee is a last resort. Your real protection is what you lock in before the performance: money already in your account, terms already agreed, and leverage you haven’t given away.
So, the question I want you to keep asking yourself is this: what leverage do I have, and how long can I hold on to it until the terms reflect a fair deal for both of us?
You have more leverage than you think
So many artists walk into these conversations feeling like they have nothing to bargain with. I used to feel that way too. But look closer, and you’ll find most of your leverage exists before you sing a single note.
They reached out to you. Think about that. An invitation means they need something you have. That’s leverage from the very first message. There are other artists out there but there’s something about what you do, how you do it that has caused them to reach out.
Your brand. Your name pulls people in, sells tickets, and makes the event look good. That has real commercial value. It communicates what kind of event people will be coming to, and they need your brand to do that.
Your image. The moment your face is on their poster, it’s marketing their event. It’s already working for them. Take away your image from the equation and it is something they are losing, not you. You haven’t lost anything yet, but they stand to.
Your time. A two-hour set means rehearsals, coordinating other musicians and instruments, sorting an outfit, transport, and clearing your whole schedule. That cost is real, paid or not and it is something you have to express or it cannot be known or respected.
The performance itself. And then, finally, the music: the thing you’ve poured years of your life into. This is where the professionalism and service delivery turns into more opportunity because you feel the pressure yourself, to deliver seeing as you have already required so much from them already.
Here’s the trap. Once your face is on the poster, you’ve rehearsed, and the show is two days away, your leverage has quietly slipped through your fingers. So, negotiate while you’re still holding it. It is important to ask yourself this therefore.
What this looks like in Music Business around the world
Here are some real-world examples that map onto the leverage points in your article: brand, image, ownership, audience, and the willingness to walk away.
- Nipsey Hussle: scarcity and audience as leverage
In 2013 he released his mixtape Crenshaw and sold 1,000 physical copies at $100 each through his “Proud2Pay” campaign. Jay-Z bought 100 of them. Instead of asking a label or promoter what he was worth, he set the price himself and let his fanbase prove it. The lesson: when you know your audience, you don’t have to accept someone else’s valuation.
- Taylor Swift: owning your work
When her former label’s catalogue, including her master recordings, was sold in 2019 without her getting a chance to buy it, she re-recorded her old albums as “Taylor’s Version.” Fans moved to the new recordings, which made the old masters less valuable. In 2025 she bought the originals back. Her leverage was her songwriting rights and her relationship with her fans. It’s a strong argument for artists to understand exactly what they own before they sign.
- Frank Ocean: finishing the contract, then going independent
He owed Def Jam one more album. In 2016 he delivered Endless, a visual album, which fulfilled that obligation. A day later he released Blonde independently and kept far more of the income. He read his contract closely and used its exact terms to get out on his own schedule.
- Prince: going public about the fight
In the 1990s, during his dispute with Warner Bros. over control of his music, he changed his name to a symbol and appeared with “slave” written on his face. That turned a private contract dispute into a public story, and his image became pressure. Years later he negotiated a new deal that returned ownership of his masters. Reputation and public attention can work as leverage in a negotiation.
- Chance the Rapper: staying independent
He gave his music away for free, built a large following, and turned down traditional label deals. In 2017, Coloring Book, a streaming-only release, became the first of its kind to win a Grammy. A large audience gave him room to say no.
- Rihanna: the brand outgrows the music
She built enough brand equity that her partnership with LVMH for Fenty Beauty (2017) was structured around her name and vision, not just an endorsement fee. Her image went from something others used to promote their products to an asset she owned in her own business.
- Diamond Platnumz: owning the platforms
Instead of relying only on radio and TV stations to play his music, he built Wasafi: a record label (WCB), plus Wasafi FM and Wasafi TV. If you own part of the route to the audience, you’re much less dependent on gatekeepers.
- Eddy Kenzo: one viral moment turned into a business
After “Sitya Loss” went viral through the video of children dancing, he used that attention to get international bookings and awards recognition, including a BET Award in 2015. He also grew his own label, Big Talent Entertainment, and stayed independent. It’s a close-to-home example of turning attention into ownership instead of handing it to someone else.
- Don Jazzy and Mavin: selling while keeping control
Before the deal, Don Jazzy said publicly that he was open to an acquisition, but only if the deal let him remain at the helm, and Billboard reported a valuation of over $100 million. In 2024, Universal Music Group bought a majority stake in Mavin, while Don Jazzy and his team kept leadership of the label. He stated his terms before negotiating and got them. A roster that included Rema and Ayra Starr gave him the leverage to do that.
- Mr Eazi: thinking like an investor
He has said he saw artists as startups and labels as something like venture capitalists, and wanted to invest in artists that way. His first emPawa programme in 2018 gave grants to 100 artists from 11 African countries, helping launch acts like Joeboy. His pitch to artists was that emPawa didn’t want to own anything and artists keep their rights. He then raised a fund that gives artists money upfront based on their revenue, repaid in instalments as their earnings grow. His leverage was his own success, which he used to give artists an alternative to the traditional label deal.
What this means for Ugandan artists
The first lesson is that you don’t have to give everything to one partner. A music career is made up of separate rights and income streams: your recordings, your publishing, your live bookings, your brand partnerships. Each can be handled by whoever does that part best. Before you sign anything, ask which rights the other side is actually asking for, and whether they need all of them to do their job. Often they don’t, and a deal that only covers what they need leaves you room to grow elsewhere.
The second lesson is that your brand can become a company. For years, the usual path in Uganda was for an artist to be the talent on someone else’s label. Sheebah, Eddy Kenzo and Bash Luks each went further and became owners. The name and following they built as artists became the base for their own businesses. That is a real change: you go from earning a share of what your work makes to owning the thing that makes it. You don’t need to launch a label tomorrow. But from early on, think of your name, your catalogue and your audience as business assets, and register and protect them that way.
Third, state your conditions before you negotiate. Don Jazzy said publicly that he was open to selling Mavin, but only if he stayed at the head of it. By the time Universal came to the table, that condition was already on record. When the deal was announced, he and his team kept leadership of the label. Artists often make the mistake of raising their non-negotiables at the end, when everyone is tired and the deal feels nearly done, and those terms then look like a last-minute obstacle. Put them on the table first, and every offer has to be built around them.
Fourth, the industry is beginning to compete on ownership. Lot Fire Records presents itself as a label that helps artists keep their masters, and Mr Eazi’s emPawa told artists plainly that it didn’t want to own anything. Their message is: “Work with us, and you keep your rights.” That tells you something important. If a company is offering terms that let you keep your rights, others can be pushed toward them too. When a contract asks for everything forever, you can point to the alternatives and ask why this deal should be different.
Finally, influence is leverage. Eddy Kenzo’s role in the Uganda National Musicians Federation gives him a voice in how the whole industry works, including royalties, digital copyright and policy. That goes beyond any single deal. It’s a reminder that artists working together have more power than any one artist alone. Joining or building industry associations, showing up for policy conversations, and speaking up about unfair practices all add to the bargaining power of every artist, including yours.
What the most successful artists have in common
Looking across these stories, from Nipsey Hussle and Taylor Swift to Sheebah and Don Jazzy, a few patterns repeat.
They knew what they owned. Before you can protect something, you have to know you have it. These artists understood the difference between their masters and their publishing, between their name and their image, and that each of these has value. Many artists sign away rights they didn’t know they had, simply because nobody explained what they were signing. Knowing what you own is the starting point for everything else.
Their audience strengthened their position at the negotiating table. A loyal fanbase is evidence. When Nipsey sold mixtapes for $100 each, or when fans moved to Taylor Swift’s re-recordings, the audience showed what the artist was worth more convincingly than any argument could. A promoter can dispute your fee. It’s much harder to dispute a room you’ve already filled. Every fan you build a real relationship with strengthens your position in every negotiation you’ll have.
They read their contracts and used the exact terms. Frank Ocean met his final obligation to his label precisely, then released his next album on his own terms the next day. That was only possible because he knew exactly what his contract required. The details of a contract, its definitions, deadlines and exit clauses, decide how much freedom you have. Read every agreement, ask what each clause means in practice, and get advice when the stakes are high.
They were willing to say no, or to wait.
Chance the Rapper turned down label deals. Prince was willing to fight for years. Leverage only works if you’re prepared to walk away. If the other side knows you’ll accept anything, you have no leverage at all. Patience has a cost, but taking a bad deal you can’t get out of usually costs more.
They made their leverage visible. Leverage the other side can’t see doesn’t help you. These artists made sure it was obvious, whether through a bold price, a public statement, or their own label, platform or fund. You can do the same with a clear rate card, a professional booking process, a well-kept record of the shows you’ve sold out, or a polite request to remove your image from a poster until terms are agreed. Each of those tells the other side that you know your value, and that the deal has to reflect it.
Eight simple moves I’d make before my next booking
1. No terms, no poster
If your image goes up before you’ve agreed terms, ask for it to come down.
Be polite, be firm, and put it in writing. Something like: “Hi! Kindly take my image off the promo material until we’ve confirmed the date, fee and what the performance involves. Excited to work this out with you.”
I know that message can feel awkward to send. But here’s what I want you to hold on to: you are not being difficult. If someone uses your name and face to sell their event without agreeing to terms with you, that’s their problem to fix, not yours. I’d add that Uganda’s Data Protection and Privacy Act, 2019 treats your image as your personal data, and telling the public you’re performing when you haven’t agreed to can raise passing-off and consumer issues. You’ll rarely need to quote any of that.
Just know you’re standing on firm ground when you ask.
2. Get the deposit before you give your time
Ask for a deposit, commonly 50%, before you start rehearsing or block off your calendar. It turns “we’re interested” into “we’re committed.” And if an organiser can’t manage a deposit, gently ask yourself whether they’ll really manage the balance.
Agree when the rest is due, too. My preference? Before you go on stage, or at soundcheck. Try to avoid “after the event.” By then, you’ve given everything and have nothing left to hold.
3. Be crystal clear about what you’re being paid for
“Come and perform” isn’t a scope, my friend.
Write down:
- the date, venue, and set time
- how long the set is (30 minutes is a very different ask from 2 hours)
- how many songs, and whether you bring your band or use theirs
- soundcheck time, and who provides the sound system because riders are such a necessary thing to consider.
- any extras: meet-and-greets, interviews, social media posts
Then ask the question that really matters: Is this fee fair for what they’re asking me to do?
Anything they add later is a new conversation, and a new fee.
4. Show them what it actually costs
Break down what it takes to deliver: your band, rehearsal space, instrument hire, transport, your outfit and styling. Honestly, most organisers haven’t thought about any of this. Once they see it, your fee makes sense, and it’s much harder to talk it down.
5. Agree on who pays for what
Transport, accommodation for out-of-town shows, meals, backline, a dressing room. A simple rule I live by: if it isn’t written down, assume you’re the one paying for it.
6. Plan for the show that doesn’t happen
Shows get cancelled. It happens to all of us. So, decide in advance:
- If they cancel: you keep the deposit, and if it’s close to the date, you get the full fee.
- If you cancel: you refund the deposit, unless it’s illness or an emergency you couldn’t help.
- If the event just can’t happen (weather, a government directive, a venue closure): agree what happens to the deposit, and whether you reschedule.
7. Protect your image and your recordings
Will they record or livestream your set? What for? That clip they post to promote next year’s festival is new marketing built on your performance, and that deserves a conversation. Ask to approve the poster, the photo they use and how your name is spelled. And agree a date when they stop using your image.
8. Get it in writing, even if it’s just WhatsApp or email
A proper contract is best. But if that feels like too much for a smaller gig, a clear message thread setting out the date, fee, deposit, scope and payment dates is so much better than a phone call. Under Uganda’s Contracts Act, 2010, a contract doesn’t need to be a formal document to be binding. What matters is clear terms you can prove later. My favourite closing line: “Just confirming the above is agreed.” Then wait for that “yes.”
Your pre-booking checklist
Screenshot this, save it, stick it on your wall. Run through it before you confirm any show.
- Date, venue and set time confirmed in writing
- Set length and number of songs agreed
- Total fee agreed, and it covers your costs and your time
- Deposit amount and date agreed (and received before rehearsals)
- Balance due before you go on stage
- Band, sound, backline and transport: who provides and pays
- Cancellation terms for both sides
- Approval of poster, photo and name spelling
- Recording and livestream rights agreed, or excluded
- End date for use of your image
- Final confirmation: “Just confirming the above is agreed.” Answered with a yes
Simple clauses you can adapt
Here are a few plain-language starting points you can borrow. Think of them as a head start, not a substitute for advice on your specific deal.
Deposit: “The Organiser shall pay 50% of the Performance Fee within [X] days of this agreement. The Artist’s booking is confirmed only once the deposit is received.”
Balance: “The balance of the Performance Fee shall be paid in full before the Artist takes the stage.”
Arrival: “The Artist shall arrive at the venue by [time] for soundcheck. Unreasonable late arrival entitles the Organiser to withhold the balance.”
Image use: “The Organiser may use the Artist’s name and approved images solely to promote this event, until [date]. Any other use requires the Artist’s written consent.”
Cancellation: “If the Organiser cancels for any reason other than an event beyond its control, the Artist retains the deposit, and the full fee becomes payable if cancellation is within [X] days of the event.”
It’s okay to walk away
Some opportunities will never get to a win-win, no matter how nicely you ask. The organiser won’t commit to a fee, won’t pay a deposit, or keeps telling you, “Don’t worry, we’ll sort it out on the day.” Those are answers. Listen to them because as an artist, you are a business and that’s something you need to take seriously. If the shopkeeper won’t give you bread if you can’t pay for it, the same logic follows for you as an artist.
I know turning down a show can feel like losing. But think about what a bad yes really costs. Imagine prepping a two-hour performance: paying your band, rehearsing for days, getting dressed for the stage, clearing your week. Then someone turns around and says, “Naa, you don’t get anything.” That’s the real loss, and it’s time you can never invoice for.
And here’s a quiet truth: walking away is leverage too. Organisers learn very quickly which artists they can take for granted, and which ones know their worth.
Your brand is leverage. Use it.
We all learn the hard way. I certainly did. But sometimes we go through it so we can turn around and tell others that it doesn’t have to be this way. That’s why I’m writing this.
Your brand is leverage. Your image is leverage. The fact that they reached out to you is leverage. And all of that comes before we even get to the performance and the music itself. Know what you’re holding, hold on to it long enough to get fair terms, and write those terms down.
Being on the flyer is lovely. Being paid is the point.
This article is general information, not legal advice for your specific situation. For a deal with significant money or rights at stake, speak to a lawyer who works with creatives.
