No Music for Genocide: Why Artists Are Pulling Their Music from Israel

A growing wave of musicians and labels are taking a stand with their catalogs. More than 400 artists have signed on to “No Music for Genocide,” a campaign calling for music to be removed from streaming in Israel. The decision has sparked conversation across the industry about the role of artists in political action and the ways music functions as both culture and protest.

Illustration by Brayan Ramales. Design by Noah Weisfogel. Logo by Siber and Blake Bohls.

“No Music for Genocide” is not a marketing stunt. It is a coordinated call to withdraw cultural presence in protest of what signatories describe as genocide in Gaza, ethnic cleansing in the West Bank, apartheid policies, and repression of pro-Palestine activism. The strategy is direct, to block or remove music from platforms accessible in Israel as a symbolic act of refusal. The list of names is broad and diverse, cutting across genres and generations. Among them are Massive Attack, King Krule, Arca, MIKE, Yaeji, Faye Webster, Japanese Breakfast, Rina Sawayama, Juliana Huxtable, Sevdaliza, JPEGMAFIA, Shygirl, Moor Mother, Eartheater, Mykki Blanco, Pink Siifu, Boy Harsher, and many more. Some artists are requesting geo-blocks in Israel, while others, like Massive Attack, are pushing further by announcing plans to remove their music from Spotify globally.

Music is not neutral. It travels faster than news, crosses borders without visas, and has always been a tool for amplifying resistance. By restricting access to their own catalogs, artists are choosing absence as a form of presence. The silence becomes a statement.

This move also raises questions about cultural power in the digital age. What does it mean to weaponize streaming access. How do boycotts shape perception and policy when platforms, not record stores, hold the keys. And how should artists balance the personal cost of lost streams with the collective cost of staying silent. Whether or not you agree with the method, the campaign forces a conversation about complicity, visibility, and the limits of protest in art. It places music in the middle of a geopolitical conflict where silence can be as loud as sound.

Learn more “No Music for Genocide”