Feminist musicians call for solidarity against the algorithm

8M all year long. Image: Courtesy.

Reportage • Ana Alicia Osorio • May 8, 2025 • Leer en castellano

The songs that accompany the hundreds of thousands of feminists who march through Latin America with raised fists on International Women's Day have become hymns of resistance. The streets pulse to songs with lyrics like “We are not afraid, we don't want to lose another” and “Sisterhood is the answer” among others. 

But after the marches end, algorithms that privilege commercial music bury the voices of the independent, combative feminists who wrote those lyrics. That is why a group of feminist artists came together to resist the economic logic of digital platforms.

Artists like Rebeca Lane, Audry Funk, Masta Quba and others have dedicated their lives to translating women’s demands for a dignified life into song. Their music is often described as feminist rap, but hip hop, funk, reggae, reggaeton and other musical styles are also influences.

“Don't tell me what to do, don't tell me how I should move,” sings Guatemalan Rebeca Lane in her song “Libre, Atrevida y Loca” [“Free, Bold and Crazy”], which is a mainstay at feminist rallies, marches and parties.

But now the algorithm seems to be trying to tell her exactly how she should move. Unlike Lane’s fans—who show up in droves at the independent venues where she performs—the algorithm isn’t helping her at all.

In April 2025, Lane, Funk and Quba launched a campaign to encourage folks to listen to their songs on the 8th of every month, not just on International Women’s Day. They created the “8M All Year Long” playlist on Spotify and took to social media to urge listeners to make conscious listening choices. They want their fans to know that they, as artists, also need the solidarity that they celebrate in song.

“Support us one day a month and help us fight the erasure they are trying to impose on us,” said Lane in an interview via video call. “We’re calling on people to listen to this music one day a month and, by doing so, to support their comrades and everyone who has accompanied us in marches and in so many other spaces.”

Triple threat: woman, artist, anti-system

The speaker next to the antimonumenta—an artistic sculpture against femicides that is a gathering place for feminist rallies—turned up the volume on the sound system blasting feminist anthems while participants spray-painted their demands on the street, the walls and all along the boulevard. Protesters heard Lane’s voice in the background singing, “We want to live, there will be no peace until there is justice.”

It was the last leg of the March 8, 2025 march in the Port of Veracruz in Mexico. The sea breeze carried feminist songs that put what protesters felt into words. The playlist continued as protesters spray-painted slogans that echoed the lyrics of songs by performers like Lane, Funk and Quba.

“If folks would listen to us at least once a month like they listen to us on 8M, we would have a lot less economic trouble,” Lane told Ojalá.

She explained that the number of people who listen to her songs increases by up to 800 percent on March 8, but drops during the rest of the year. Their survival as artists hangs in the balance in an industry where platforms pay them very little per play.

“We’re against the system, but we’re only rebels and take action on the day dictated by the system, which is March 8, [whereas] every day should be a day to fight for human rights,” Quba said in WhatsApp audios. Her song “Autodefensa” [“Self defense”] is often sung at marches. It goes: “Dignity has no fear, it’s rebellion that wakes up the heart.”

Women in music face a serious gender gap. According to Spotify and USC Annenberg's Inclusion in the Recording Studio? report, only 35 percent of the voices on 2023’s Billboard Hot 100 charts—the top U.S. ranking—were female. That percentage drops to 19.5 percent for women songwriters and 6.5 percent for producers.

Europe has comparable rates of inequality. Studies have shown that women have lower incomes and face greater obstacles, such as sexual harassment and discrimination.

Lane, Funk and Quba don't just sing about these issues: they live them. Each has been active in the music industry for nearly 20 years and all describe sexist violence, racism, migration and inequality in their lyrics.

Audry Funk is Mexican and a migrant in the United States. Her lyrics, in addition to condemning sexism, also highlight racism and problems like fatphobia. “We are the children of oppressed people, already taking part in the fight with all my Latino people,” she sings, affirming her commitment to resisting the inequities that she has suffered.

Masta Quba is also Mexican and a migrant currently in Europe. In addition to being a singer, she has founded collectives that seek to teach women to free themselves through different creative outlets, including music.

As a rapper and feminist, she has faced violence and death threats. In songs like “Despiertas” [“Awakened”] or “Pa’ Sanar” [“To heal”], she reiterates that the body is political and that music can be a tool of care.

Songs by all three also speak of dreams, tenderness and resistance. They champion sisterhood—which is exactly what they are asking for now.

As independent artists, they face a double challenge: the sweeping inequalities they experience due to their gender and also marginalization in the commercial music industry.

“Our lyrics talk about violence, we question things deeply through music,” Lane said. “We are artists who do not represent the values that the neoliberal system wants to promote. We’re calling for collective action in a world that promotes individuality.”

According to Lane, Funk and Quba, companies have urged successful commercial artists (who may also face gender discrimination) to compose songs with feminist themes that can be played at protests, as part of that commercial logic.

“Lately, being singers with political values has been a huge challenge, because the industry kind of tokenized the struggle through their big-name artists,” Funk said via Whatsapp audio messages. “It’s like they told them, 'Well, do a little feminist song, won’t you?'”

Rebeca Lane in concert. Photo: Courtesy.

Hacking the algorithm

For the last 25 years, Lane has been singing about “being a woman” within a system that needs to change. In “Mujer Lunar” [“Moon Woman”], she sings about different stages in a woman’s life, marking milestones like menstruation and childbirth. In “Libre, Atrevida y Loca,” she sings about how society often judges women.  

Today, she is considering leaving the music industry so that she can have a more stable income and more easily support her daughter.

She remembers how the community helped her establish herself as an independent artist. They bought her independently recorded albums and went to her concerts. But now, she said, algorithms drive consumption, making it harder for independent artists. No one buys CDs anymore, it’s all streaming. Concerts are usually large festivals involving many artists.

“It's so easy to go onto a platform and get carried away by what it says you should listen to,” she said.

Only 22 percent of independent artists in Latin America make a living from their music. Of those who can, men make up the vast majority, according to the report ¿Cómo Podemos Ayudar a los Músicos Emergentes? (How Can We Help Emerging Musicians?) by La Marca Lab.

Lane said platforms pay around .006 cents per play, which doesn’t come close to compensating for the investment required to create new songs.

According to La Marca Lab's study, the majority of people in Latin America’s independent music scene lack funding and face economic barriers in promoting their music.

“We don’t have industry or platform support so it is obviously way harder and we see that all these inequalities get magnified,” said Quba. “In the United States, for example, for your song to go viral, like truly viral, you need a million dollars.”

Faced with a model that sweeps the uncomfortable under the rug, Lane, Funk and Quba are calling on their listeners to actively choose to listen to them as an act of political resistance. They want to make the 8th of every month a moment of digital mobilization for those who have made music part of their fight for change.