In 2001, a man named McKinley Phipps went on trial in the USA. Phipps was a hip-hop artist, and he was accused of killing a 19-year-old at a club where he was performing.

There was no physical evidence. Another man had already confessed. The only proof they had was a handful of witnesses claiming they saw Phipps with a gun - and his music.

The prosecution pointed to lyrics like "Murder, murder, kill, kill" and "pull the trigger". That was enough to get him sentenced to 30 years in prison.

After 20 years, he was granted clemencyLeniency or mercy. and released. But in that time, the use of music to convict people has only grown more common.

In the last few years, music - specifically rapA type of music in which the words are spoken rhythmically rather than sung. , grime'Grime' emerged in the early 2000s from the East End of London, from a marriage American-influenced hip-hop to genres more popular in Britain, such as garage and dancehall. Grime remained 'underground' for a long time, but eventually broke into the mainstream with artists like Dizzee Rascal and Tinchy Strider. and drillA subgenre of hip hop music that emerged in the 2010s. It is known for its violent lyrics. - has played a part in the trials of more than 240 people in the UK, mostly Black men, nearly half of them under 18 years old.¹

Prosecutors insist they often need to use music videos to make their cases. Their critics say it is tantamountVirtually the same as. to criminalising music and worsens racial prejudice.

But is there a link between drill and violence?

There is a long tradition of using music to tell dark stories. For centuries, folk musicians sang "murder balladsSlow songs that tell a story. " which narrated terrible crimes from a first-person perspective.

Drill, its defenders argue, should be understood as part of this tradition. People have always liked songs full of grit and violence, and drill is a modern way of scratching that itch.

They say that when drill artists sing about killing and maiming, they are simply documenting their own lived experiences. It is a way of turning hardship into art.

But drill's detractors say it is not just documenting violence: it is glamourising it.

The data is contested. A 2021 report found that more than a third of gang-related homicides in London were "linked" with drill - meaning either perpetrator or victim was an aspiring drill artist, or drill music videos were used as evidence.²

But critics think this does not prove much. In deprived communities where gang violence is more common, drill offers a way out. Many of the young people in these places aspire to be drill musicians, regardless of how involved they really are in the scene.

Yes: Music boasting about committing terrible crimes makes gang violence seem edgy and glamorous. It encourages young people to get involved in gangs so they have something to make music about.

No: Drill is a product of gang violence, not a cause. And the link here is not between music and violence but between music and racism. White men are not criminalised for listening to rap.

Or... The links between music and gangs are complex. There is no question drill is sometimes used as a cover for crime, even if it is not a cause. But the focus has to be on ending violence, not on prosecuting music.