TikTok Sounds and Commercial Use: What Brands and Creators Can't Do
Can businesses use TikTok sounds? Why brand accounts are limited to the Commercial Music Library, how trending sounds in ads become sync infringement, and more.
A brand manager sees a trending sound carrying ten million videos and asks the obvious question: why can’t our account use it too? The answer is that TikTok is really two platforms wearing one interface — a personal platform with some of the broadest music licensing on the internet, and a commercial platform with one of the narrowest. Mixing them up has produced real lawsuits with real eight-figure exposure. This guide explains the two-license reality behind TikTok sounds and commercial use, the enforcement cases that prove it’s not theoretical, who owns original sounds, why sounds can’t follow you to Reels or Shorts, and how brands actually clear music. It’s part of our copyright survival guide for online creators.
The two-license reality: personal accounts vs. business accounts
TikTok built its identity on music, and it pays for that: the platform holds licensing deals with Universal, Sony, Warner, and thousands of independent labels and publishers covering its general music library. But read the fine print of those deals and TikTok’s own music usage policy, and the scope is consistent — the licenses cover personal, non-commercial use by ordinary users. The labels never granted TikTok the right to sublicense their catalogs for advertising.
So TikTok splits its music system in two:
- Personal accounts get the General Music Library — millions of tracks including chart hits and trending sounds, usable in ordinary personal content.
- Business accounts are locked out of that library entirely and see only the Commercial Music Library (CML) — a catalog of roughly a million tracks that are pre-cleared for commercial use, consisting mostly of production/library music and emerging artists, not the trending songs driving the For You page.
This is why switching an account from personal to business makes saved drafts lose their audio and strips trending sounds from the picker. It isn’t a glitch; it’s the licensing wall becoming visible. And the wall follows the use, not just the account type: TikTok’s Branded Content policy requires commercial-content disclosure and CML-only music for paid partnerships even when posted from a creator’s personal account. A creator posting a #ad with a trending chart song is outside the license no matter which account type published it.
The legal frame: putting music in promotional video requires a synchronization license for the composition (from the publisher) and a master use license for the recording (from the label). Personal TikTok use rides on TikTok’s blanket deals; commercial use requires your own. How those two rights fit together is covered in music licensing: sync and master rights.
The enforcement proof: Bang Energy and its progeny
Brands used to treat this as a technicality nobody enforced. The Bang Energy cases ended that.
Starting in 2021, all three major label groups — Universal, Sony, and Warner — sued Vital Pharmaceuticals, maker of Bang Energy drinks, over TikTok marketing that used their recordings without licenses. UMG’s case alone identified the company’s music in well over a hundred of Bang’s own TikTok videos plus influencer campaign posts. In 2022, a federal court in the Southern District of Florida granted summary judgment finding Bang directly liable for the videos posted on its own accounts — no license, no fair use, full stop. Notably, the court declined to hold Bang liable for its influencers’ posts on the record presented, finding UMG hadn’t shown Bang controlled those videos — a distinction that matters for how brand-influencer deals are papered (more below).
The playbook has since been run against a widening cast of defendants: labels and publishers have brought unlicensed-social-media-music claims against restaurant chains, NBA teams, car dealerships, retailers, and airlines. The math explains the aggression — statutory damages under 17 U.S.C. § 504(c) run $750–$30,000 per infringed work, up to $150,000 per work for willful infringement, and a campaign that used 100 songs is a nine-figure complaint waiting to be filed. Deleting the posts stops the bleeding but doesn’t erase accrued liability. For how courts have handled infringement fights like these, browse the copyright case-law archive.
The 2024 chapter added a different lesson: UMG pulled its entire catalog off TikTok on January 31, 2024, after licensing negotiations collapsed over royalties and AI — muting millions of existing videos overnight — before a new deal in May 2024 (renewed again in a multi-year agreement in 2026) restored the music. For brands and creators alike, the takeaway is that even licensed platform music is only as stable as the current deal.
Original sounds: who owns them
An original sound — your voiceover, your skit audio, your homemade beat — is owned by whoever created it, from the moment it’s recorded. Uploading it gives TikTok (per its terms of service) a broad license to host, use, and let other users build videos on it inside the platform, but ownership never transfers.
Three consequences follow:
- A viral original sound is an asset. Its creator can license it for ads, register it with the Copyright Office, and demand payment when brands use it commercially — several viral-sound creators have done exactly that, and unlicensed brand use of a “free” original sound is just as infringing as unlicensed chart music. If you’re the creator, licensing your creative work covers how to turn that into paid permission.
- Original sounds can contain stolen material. A huge share of “original sounds” are ripped movie clips, resung hooks, or re-uploaded songs. The label on the sound confers no rights — a brand using an original sound that secretly contains a Universal track has infringed Universal’s rights.
- Your own voice in an original sound raises separate questions (right of publicity, for one) when others commercialize it — a reminder that copyright is only part of the audio picture.
Off-platform reuse breaks the license chain
TikTok’s music licenses are platform-bound. They authorize sounds inside TikTok — not in the video file you download and repost elsewhere. Rip a TikTok video with a licensed song and upload it to Instagram Reels or YouTube Shorts, and the music in that copy is licensed by nobody: TikTok’s deal doesn’t reach Meta’s platform, and Meta’s own music deals only cover music added through its tools.
For multi-platform creators and brands running crosspost pipelines, the practical rules are:
- Add music natively on each platform. If the track exists in Reels’ and Shorts’ libraries too, add it there through their pickers rather than baking it into the exported file.
- Watch the watermark-removal workflow. Tools that strip TikTok watermarks for reposting don’t strip the unlicensed audio problem.
- For campaigns, license once for everywhere. A direct sync/master license (or a commercial library subscription covering all social platforms) is the only approach that makes one video file legal everywhere it runs. YouTube’s enforcement side of this is covered in YouTube copyright claim vs. strike, and Twitch’s in Twitch DMCA music rules — the same audio can produce a revenue claim on one platform, a mute on another, and a lawsuit exposure on the third.
Influencer deals: who bears the music-clearance risk
The Bang Energy influencer ruling created a gray zone brands should not find comforting: the court declined liability for influencer posts on that record because control wasn’t proven — but a brand that reviews, approves, scripts, or reposts influencer content is building exactly the control-and-benefit facts that support vicarious or contributory liability. And the influencer who personally posted the infringing branded content is directly liable regardless.
Well-drafted brand-creator agreements now address music explicitly:
- Specify the music source (CML only, brand-supplied licensed track, or a named library the creator subscribes to);
- Allocate clearance responsibility and indemnification — who warrants the audio is licensed, and who pays if a label comes calling;
- Cover reuse rights — a brand that reposts creator content to its own accounts or runs it as paid Spark Ads steps into direct-use territory and needs the licensing to match.
Music clearance sits alongside FTC disclosure as the two compliance pillars of branded content; the disclosure side is covered in influencer brand deals and FTC rules.
A practical clearance workflow for brands
- Classify the content. Organic-feeling or not, anything promoting a business is commercial use — courts and labels don’t recognize a “but it was just a fun post” category.
- Default to the Commercial Music Library for native TikTok content, and confirm the specific track’s CML terms (some carry territory or placement limits).
- For a specific commercial song, get real licenses: sync from the publisher(s), master from the label, in writing, scoped to platform, territory, and term. Budget realistically — well-known songs command five to six figures for social campaigns, which is why most brands use library music or commission originals.
- Vet ‘original sounds’ like any other asset. Identify the actual creator, confirm what’s inside the audio, and license it directly.
- Paper the influencer side with music-source requirements and indemnities.
- Audit the archive. The Bang cases were built on posts going back years. If your brand account has old videos with trending music, they’re accruing exposure right now — quiet removal plus a going-forward policy is the standard cleanup.
The bottom line
TikTok sounds live under two different licenses: the general library is cleared for personal use only, and commercial actors get the narrower Commercial Music Library. A brand that borrows a trending song for ads or branded content is an unlicensed sync-and-master infringer — the Bang Energy judgments and the wave of label suits since prove the majors enforce it, with statutory damages that turn a campaign playlist into catastrophic exposure. Original sounds belong to their creators, licenses don’t travel off-platform, and influencer contracts should say out loud who clears the music. The rule that keeps brands safe is simple: if the use sells something, the music needs its own license.
This article is general legal information for educational purposes only. It is not legal advice, does not create an attorney-client relationship, and may not reflect the most current law or platform policy in your area. Music licensing and commercial-use disputes turn on specific facts. For advice about your situation, consult an attorney licensed in your jurisdiction.
Frequently asked questions
Can businesses use TikTok sounds in their videos?
Only sounds from TikTok's Commercial Music Library. TikTok's licensing deals with labels and publishers cover personal, non-commercial use — so business accounts are cut off from the general music library entirely and limited to the CML, a pre-cleared catalog of roughly a million mostly library and emerging-artist tracks. Using a trending chart song in brand content requires your own sync and master licenses from the publisher and label. Major labels have sued brands over exactly this, most famously the Bang Energy cases, so it's an enforced rule, not a technicality.
What happens if a brand uses a trending song in an ad without a license?
It's copyright infringement of both the composition and the recording, and rightsholders have pursued it aggressively. In the Bang Energy litigation, Universal, Sony, and Warner all sued the drink maker over hundreds of TikTok videos using their music, and a federal court in 2022 found Bang directly liable for the posts on its own accounts. Statutory damages run $750 to $30,000 per work and up to $150,000 per work for willful infringement, so a campaign using dozens of songs can create eight-figure exposure. Removal of the videos doesn't erase liability that already accrued.
Who owns an original sound on TikTok?
The person who created the underlying recording owns it — copyright vests in the creator at fixation, not in TikTok and not in whoever's video made it famous. Uploading grants TikTok a broad license to host and let others use the sound on the platform, but ownership stays with the creator. That means a viral original sound is a real asset its creator can license off-platform, and it also means brands can't treat original sounds as free just because they're user-generated: someone owns that audio, and commercial use still needs their permission.
Can I reuse a TikTok sound in an Instagram Reel or YouTube Short?
Not by exporting or re-recording it. TikTok's music licenses cover use inside TikTok only, so ripping a sound and placing it in a Reel or Short breaks the license chain — the use on the other platform is unlicensed unless that platform's own music library independently offers the track and you add it through that platform's tools. The same logic applies in reverse. For crossposted brand content, the safe workflow is licensing music that's cleared for every platform in the campaign, or using each platform's commercial library natively.