Have misogynists co-opted the term ‘industry plant’?
If you’re exploring the often murky waters of online music circles, it’s hard to scroll through your Twitter timeline without encountering the term ‘industry plant’. The phrase has been dished out to a range of artists regardless of genre, from Lizzo to Lana Del Rey. However, increasingly, it is men who seem to be escaping the term while women take the hit.
Used to refer to artists who appear seemingly out of nowhere with significant backing from a label or other industry connections, the term has snowballed in popularity over the last few years. When a new artist gains popularity or acclaim instantly, particularly if they present as independent, accusations of being planted by the industry are usually not far behind, especially, it would seem, if the artists are female.
Quite often, this criticism comes from a fair place. When an artist seems to have skipped out on the struggle experienced by most DIY bands – years of playing shows often at a loss, applying for limited funding, reaching out to labels and other industry professionals to no avail – it’s understandable that their swift success will be subject to scrutiny. But the term seems to be disproportionately thrown at successful young women starting out in the industry, and often with very little research to back up the damaging label.
Bedroom-pop indie dreamgirl Clairo started posting Soundcloud covers in 2013, but she only gained an audience four years later when the internet discovered ‘Pretty Girl’ and propelled her into the spotlight. Her fast-found fame predated the Tiktok phenomenon – the influence of social media on the success and streams of upcoming artists was still in its infancy. So, too, was the phrase ‘industry plant’. But, like Clairo, the term quickly gained in popularity as people found out her father had industry connections, and Redditors jumped online to dispute her success.
But Clairo was 18 and a product of the internet generation. She grew up on social media, and her music endeared itself to an audience who did the same. In an interview with Dazed, she states: “There’s no way you could plan something like a viral video happening”. Though her father’s connections may have helped her gain support in the industry, it was also YouTube virality that catapulted her into the mainstream.
Clairo also responded to the criticism during an interview with Rolling Stone, stating: “I am definitely not blind to the fact that things have been easier for me than other people’s experiences. It would be stupid of me not to acknowledge the privilege I had from the start to be able to sign somewhere where there’s trust, to be able to sign a record deal that doesn’t revolve around keeping myself afloat financially.” However, there is a distinction to be made between a favourable starting position and some sort of conspiracy that negates the talent of the artist.
A couple of years later, the indie rock duo from the Isle of Wight called Wet Leg became the new target of the term. Their debut single, ‘Chaise Longue’, released in 2021, gained immediate commercial and critical traction online for its catchy riff and quirky lyricism. The duo were signed to Domino, so they quickly garnered industry plant criticism. With an appearance on Jools Holland, a Mercury Prize nomination and two Grammy wins, the torrent of criticism was only heightened as Wet Leg grew. But Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers had been making music separately for a decade before their seemingly miraculous success in Wet Leg.
Almost in the mirror image of Wet Leg, Leeds-based post-punk band Yard Act gained similar quick success. Like Wet Leg, they formed in 2019, and, like Wet Leg, the members had been playing music for a long time in various other guises. With the release of their 2022 debut album, The Overload, Yard Act were shortlisted for the Mercury Prize and gained similar acclaim. But those ‘industry plant’ accusations that plagued Wet Leg were nowhere to be seen.
Lead vocalist Rhian Teasdale responded to the claims in an interview with Rolling Stone late last year, commenting: “If you’re a guy in a band, I don’t think you get it as much, I’ll say that. When it comes down to it, it’s just misogyny isn’t it?”
The most recent victim of the term is The Last Dinner Party. The arty five-piece met at university and landed a slot opening for The Rolling Stones at BST Hyde Park last year. Their debut single, ‘Nothing Matters’, released last month with Universal, already has over two million streams at the time of writing.
As is to be expected, the industry plant accusations promptly rolled in. As information about the band spread, audiences were questioning how they got onto the radars of both Universal and The Rolling Stones with no released music. Really, The Last Dinner Party hadn’t miraculously gained a main support slot for the Stones – they were opening the stage on Sunday of BST Hyde Park, featured in tiny font on the poster alongside The Flints.
On a Twitter thread claiming that The Last Dinner Party “came out of nowhere a week ago” and were “clearly made by a label”, the band replied. They said: “I know I shouldn’t engage but this is just a nasty lie.” They state, “We’ve known each other since we were 18 as we met during freshers week, there are videos of us playing live as an unsigned band all last year and we got signed from those.”
Like many other DIY bands, The Last Dinner Party had embarked upon a string of shows in London, steadily gathering a cult following around their unique sound and look. Footage of their live performance made it online, too, courtesy of filmmaker Lou Smith who documents the London alternative scene. The audience surrounding the Windmill is a powerful one, one that has pushed many underground bands before The Last Dinner Party further into the conversation.
Defending this progression, The Last Dinner Party commented: “If you don’t like our music, or our vibes, that’s okay! But it’s not fine to accuse us of not writing these songs or existing as a band in our own right… none of us have a famous or industry parents either, shock horror!”
So, why is this accusation so rampant at the moment? The idea that artists should struggle before success has become an expectation. This is particularly apparent in the alternative music scene, where the DIY ethos presents barriers of its own. Nepotistic contacts and wealth still provide some with an easy route into the music industry. As the alternative scene – originally built by working-class artists – is increasingly being pervaded by the middle classes, there’s a vital conversation to be had around class background and access.
However, the conspiratorial nature of the industry plant term and its disproportionate application to women is a toxic offshoot of this argument. Instead of highlighting inaccessibility, the term ‘industry plant’ has been co-opted as an easy way to dismiss the talent of young women. When women are quick to gain acclaim, there’s a newfound desperation to explain this away as something other than a combination of talent, experience and hard work. Meanwhile, men with similar backgrounds and trajectories of success escape the criticism.
When tackling disparities in the music industry, we have to be careful that we’re not perpetuating a dangerous myth that holds women to higher standards and criticises them without any probable cause. For evidence of this, you need to look no further than Wet Leg being called suspicious “overnight sensations” over ten years into their musical pursuit.
