Press and media.

The court prohibited four acts in respect of six compositions. Reproducing those works for training purposes, carried out in the United States. Reproducing them by memorisation in the model itself. Communicating them to the public by offering that model. And reproducing and communicating them through the output the model generates.

Suno argued that a model’s weights are nothing more than mathematically learnt patterns and generalised features. The court did not follow that. It held that recognisable versions of complete works had been stored in the parameters, returning in confusingly similar form on a simple prompt. The fair use defence was rejected. Each further breach carries a penalty of up to 250,000 euros.

The point that reaches furthest is not about music but about jurisdiction. The court held itself competent over training that physically took place in the United States, on the ground that the model’s output reaches European users. Anyone supplying into Europe cannot hide behind the question of where the compute sits.

What does this mean for a business owner playing music in their premises? In the short term, nothing. The ruling targets the model provider, not whoever plays the music. But it does show where the dividing line in this market will fall, and that line is the provenance of the training data.

That is also what our own position rests on. The model supplier behind RadioMatic states publicly that it trained exclusively on rights-free sources, licensed material and commissioned work. That statement, and what we can verify of it ourselves, is set out in our legal memorandum, including what we cannot check. Anyone reading this ruling would do well to put that same question to every provider of AI music.

Bird & Bird on Munich Regional Court, case 42 O 763/25

This piece is our own observation from conversations with business owners, not market research. We deliberately quote no percentages: we could not stand behind them.

The first reason is almost always the bill. A business that plays music pays twice. Once to Buma/Stemra and Sena for the rights, and once to the music provider for the subscription. For a two-hundred-square-metre shop, the first part alone approaches fourteen hundred euros a year. Across several sites, that multiplies per location.

The second reason is control. Playing a playlist gives you music, but not radio. Nothing sits between the tracks: no announcement of this week’s offer, no greeting that matches the time of day, no voice that mentions the business by name. Chains that do want this have to arrange it per site or hire a voice-over.

The third reason is rarely the first one mentioned, but it always comes up: uncertainty. Many operators run Spotify or a personal account in their business, which those services prohibit in their terms. They know it does not hold up and would rather not have the conversation.

What generative AI changes is where the music comes from. If there is no human author, there is no rights holder, and there is nothing to collect. That is not a trick and not a grey area; it follows directly from how the Dutch Copyright Act and the Neighbouring Rights Act are built. It removes a line from the budget that until recently looked unavoidable.

What does not change: whether it actually sounds good. We have no argument for that, only a listen button. And whether the legal reasoning holds. An operator should be able to read that for themselves, which is why our full memorandum is public on the site rather than confined to a sales conversation.

Where we are careful ourselves: AI music is not for every business. In a bar where the music choice *is* the character of the place, an automatically composed station adds nothing. It works where music is functional and needs to be managed centrally.

DIY chain Brico and supermarket chain Carrefour now play AI-generated music in their Belgian stores. Brico works with M-Cube for this. Carrefour is rolling the change out in phases and wants every Belgian location switched over between 2026 and 2028.

They are not alone. According to VRT NWS, X2O, Krëfel, Trafic, Oh’Green and Club also play royalty-free music in their branches now.

The reason is the levies. Music by human authors carries a payment to the collecting society — Sabam in Belgium, Buma/Stemra and Sena in the Netherlands. With music that has no human author that basis falls away, and for a chain with hundreds of locations it adds up.

Sabam is watching with concern. Steven Desloovere, its head of music, told VRT NWS that twenty-five to twenty-eight percent of its income could disappear if shops switch en masse. Sabam is considering new arrangements and does not rule out going to court: AI music may formally be royalty-free, but in their view it is often inspired by existing work, which makes the legal position more complicated than it looks.

What this means for the Dutch market is not settled, but the movement is the same. It is also exactly the distinction we draw: the question is not whether AI music is called royalty-free, but whether a rights holder exists. Where one does, the bill arrives eventually.

Tweakers on the switch by Brico and Carrefour

Imagery for this item follows with the press kit.