The sound of tariffs: Canadian music braces for cross-border fallout
As costs rise, artists and advocates warn the ripple effects could hit Canadian music where it hurts—the stage, the merch table and beyond.
By Josiane N’tchoreret-Mbiamany
April 11, 2025
On Jan. 20, 2025, as Donald Trump stood before the Capitol and took the oath of office for his second term, a familiar sense of unease rippled across Canada. Within days, his administration announced a sweeping increase in tariffs on Canadian imports, reigniting trade tensions and setting off alarms across industries nationwide.
Conversations at dinner tables, in boardrooms and across social media weren’t just about politics—they were about survival.
Public attention quickly turned to rising food prices, strained oil exports and the potential impact on manufacturing. But the ripple effects of tariffs are reaching far beyond traditional economic sectors—including into Canada’s cultural industries.
Among them, one industry is facing mounting pressure with little public attention: Canadian music.
Erin Benjamin, president and CEO of the Canadian Live Music Association, has been watching the impact unfold with growing concern. For her, this isn’t just about policy—it’s about the core tools needed to make live music happen.
“Right now, we’re seeing tariffs on things like microphones and speakers—and those aren’t luxuries. They’re essential,” Benjamin said. “They’re the tools of our trade. You can’t run a show without them. If production companies and venues are suddenly paying more for basic gear, that affects every artist who walks on stage.”
It’s not just about the gear. Benjamin said the entire ecosystem that powers live performance—from road crews to rental houses to mid-sized venues—is under pressure. Many are still recovering from pandemic losses, and inflation has only made things worse. The added weight of tariffs could tip some over the edge.
“A lot of organizations in Canada hire American talent, and they pay them in U.S. dollars,” she said. “With the exchange rate as bad as it is, plus the potential for tariffs, it’s becoming unsustainable. These are not theoretical pressures—they’re immediate, and they’re real.”
That cost crunch is also being felt by the people making the music. Jacob Anstey, an artist based in London, Ont., said the numbers just don’t work anymore—especially for musicians trying to operate independently.
“Because of where the music industry is at, the only real way independent musicians can survive is by touring and selling merch,” Anstey said. “Touring the States is already unrealistic for a lot of us because of visa costs. Now, if you’re getting hit with tariffs on merchandise—that’s devastating. That’s a third of your income gone. For most bands, that’s everything.”
For many Canadians, music might feel like a cultural asset—something symbolic, emotional, even nostalgic. But to those in the business, it’s also economic infrastructure. In 2023, Canada’s live music industry generated more than $10.9 billion in GDP and supported over 101,000 full-time jobs, according to the Canadian Live Music Association. That figure puts the sector ahead of fisheries and nearly on par with the auto parts industry.
And yet, that contribution has largely been built without targeted policy or federal cultural incentives.
“I don’t think most Canadians realize how big this is,” Benjamin said. “They think of Taylor Swift, sure. But that’s just the top one per cent. The real music economy is thousands of smaller companies, crews, clubs, artists—all working together. It’s an ecosystem. And it’s fragile.”
Even on the audience’s side of the stage, there’s hesitation. Anstey, who regularly travels for shows, said his habits have already started to change. What once felt exciting now feels uncertain—even risky.
“I used to drive to Detroit for shows,” he said. “The tickets were cheaper, the venues were cooler, and parking was easier. But now I’d think twice. Not just because of tariffs—the whole political climate in the U.S. feels tense. And even if I did go, I probably wouldn’t buy merch anymore. Not if I risk getting taxed or flagged at the border.”
That shift might sound small, but Anstey said it carries serious consequences for artists on both sides of the border. “Even for big bands, merch is one of their main revenue streams,” he said. “If Canadians stop buying it, that hits hard.”
The industry’s deeper issues go beyond merchandise and touring. For many in music, the real threat has been building in the background for years: the digital disruption of how music is shared, sold and consumed.
Alan Cross, a veteran broadcaster and host of The Ongoing History of New Music, said the rise of streaming has hollowed out the income model for all but the most globally dominant artists.
“Streaming has gutted the middle class of musicians,” he said. “If you’re not in the top one per cent globally, it’s nearly impossible to make a living.”
A 2021 study by Canadian Heritage found that record labels receive 69 per cent of streaming revenue in Canada. Artists take home 17 per cent. Songwriters get six. The vast majority of Canadian stream counts go to the same four global acts: Drake, The Weeknd, Justin Bieber and Shawn Mendes.
Cross said that for decades, Canadian music operated within a homegrown ecosystem—supported by CanCon rules and local loyalty. But that scaffolding has eroded.
“We had our own thing—our own sound, our own stage,” he said. “But now, unless you’re a superstar, you’re buried. We need to get back to that time when Canadian music was just music. Everywhere. Part of everyday life.”
Benjamin believes there’s still a path forward—but it requires coordinated action, cultural buy-in and serious investment.
“If we can’t go south, maybe we go deeper,” she said. “Let’s build stronger national touring routes. Let’s invest in our venues. Let’s create more opportunities for Canadian artists to thrive in their own country.”
Her association is calling for policy changes—including tax incentives for domestic touring, grant programs to upgrade aging infrastructure and export funding that puts Canadian-owned companies and creators first.
“We’ve seen Canadians rally behind local food, local breweries, local tourism,” she said. “Why not music? Why not local talent?”
This episode dives into how tariffs, streaming, and nostalgia are reshaping what Canadian music means—and why choosing to listen local might be more powerful than we think.
Whether that momentum will build—or fade under pressure—remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: the stakes are no longer abstract.
Tariffs may have raised the cost of doing business. But they’ve also raised the volume on a question the industry has been asking for years: Will Canada finally start listening to its own sound?