What Happens When BMI Sends You a Letter

The envelope is white. Standard size. Your name is right, the address is right, but the return address says something like "Broadcast Music, Inc." in a typeface that means business. You set it on the counter next to the tip jar because you have tables to wipe down and a line forming. Maybe you open it that afternoon. Maybe it sits there for a week, half-buried under menus and vendor invoices.

When you do open it, you read it twice. Something about public performance. Something about licensing. Something about the music playing in your business right now — the very playlist humming through the speakers while you read.

There's a specific kind of unease that comes from discovering you've been playing a game without knowing the rules. Not a parking ticket. Not a lawsuit. Something in between — formal enough to make your stomach tighten, vague enough that you're not sure what to do next.

So you google "BMI sent me a letter." And here you are.

I know exactly where you're standing, because I stood there. I own a cafe in Charlevoix, Michigan — a small town on Lake Michigan, the kind where the morning light comes in gold off the water and you want the room to sound like it looks. When I first learned how the music licensing system actually works, I was behind my own counter, holding a very similar feeling of wait, what?

Here's everything I wish someone had told me that day.

What the letter actually says

A BMI letter is not a lawsuit. It is not a fine. It is not a demand for immediate payment. Read it again with that in mind — the tone shifts.

What the letter says, stripped down: BMI has reason to believe your business plays music publicly. Under U.S. copyright law, public performance of copyrighted music requires a license. BMI represents over 22 million musical works. If any of those works are playing in your space, you need a BMI license to do so legally. Here is how to get one.

That's it. It's a notification. A formal one — the kind with a reference number and a phone number and language written by attorneys — but a notification nonetheless. They're telling you the system exists, explaining that you're inside it, and offering a path forward.

Most business owners assume the letter is worse than it is. It's not a threat. It's the first step of a process, and how you respond to this step determines whether the next steps stay simple or get complicated.

How they found you

This is the part that feels a little uncanny: how did BMI know what's playing in your cafe?

BMI employs field researchers. Real people, in real cities, walking into real businesses. They order a coffee. They sit down. They listen. If music is playing, they open a song-identification app and log the track — title, artist, time, date, business name.

But it goes beyond in-person visits. BMI researchers check Google Business profiles, scan Yelp reviews, watch Instagram stories. If you posted a video of your Saturday brunch crowd and there's music audible in the background, that's documentation. A tagged location, a speaker visible on the counter, a review that says "great playlist" — all of it paints a picture.

This isn't surveillance. It's the same process that's been running since BMI was founded in 1939. The tools have gotten better — apps instead of notebooks, social media instead of sidewalk scouting — but the idea is the same. Songwriters are owed royalties when their work plays publicly. BMI's job is to make sure that happens.

Understanding the mechanism makes it less frightening. They're not targeting you. They're doing what they've always done, and your business showed up on the map.

What BMI is (and isn't)

BMI — Broadcast Music, Inc. — is a performing rights organization, or PRO. Their role is straightforward: they represent songwriters, composers, and publishers. When music plays in a public setting, the people who wrote it are owed royalties. BMI collects those royalties from businesses and distributes them to creators.

This is legitimate. It is not a scam. It is not a shakedown. The performing rights system exists because someone wrote a song, and when that song plays in your dining room, they deserve to be paid for it. That principle is sound.

What's not sound — or at least not simple — is the system built around that principle.

BMI is one of three major PROs in the United States. The other two are ASCAP and SESAC. Each represents a different catalog of songwriters. When a track plays in your space, it's affiliated with one of these organizations, and you have no practical way of knowing which one in real time. A single playlist can contain songs from all three.

So when BMI sends you a letter, they're telling you about their piece of the puzzle. But the puzzle has two more pieces, and those organizations have their own letters, their own licensing processes, and their own fees.

This is where most business owners start to feel overwhelmed. One letter from BMI leads to the realization that compliance means navigating three separate relationships with three separate organizations — none of which coordinate with each other.

What to do right now

If you're holding a BMI letter today, here's the path forward. Clear steps, no jargon.

1. Don't ignore the letter.

This is the most important one. BMI's process has a predictable escalation: introductory letter, follow-up letters, phone calls from a licensing representative, a letter from an attorney, and eventually legal action. Each step is more formal and more expensive to resolve than the last. Responding early keeps everything simple.

2. Don't panic.

You are not being sued. You have not been fined. No one is showing up at your business tomorrow with a court order. The letter is an opening communication. Treat it like one.

3. Respond to acknowledge receipt.

Call the number on the letter, or reply in writing. You don't need to commit to anything yet. Simply acknowledging that you received it and are assessing your options shows good faith and slows the escalation clock.

4. Assess your current situation.

What music are you playing? How? If you're using a personal streaming subscription through a speaker, that's two separate issues — the streaming service prohibits commercial use in its terms of service, and the music itself likely requires PRO licensing. If you're using a commercial music service, check whether it covers PRO fees or just provides the recordings.

5. Decide your path forward.

You have three real options. Each is legitimate. They differ in cost, complexity, and ongoing maintenance.

Your three options

Option A: Get licensed the traditional way

This means obtaining separate licenses from all three PROs — BMI, ASCAP, and SESAC — plus subscribing to a music service that's actually cleared for commercial use.

Here's what that costs for a typical small business:

For a deeper breakdown of how these fees are calculated — square footage, seating capacity, business type — I wrote a detailed guide to BMI license costs that covers the specifics.

This path is fully legal. It's also three separate invoices, three separate renewal cycles, and the ongoing question of whether every track that plays is actually covered by the licenses you hold. For a larger business with a dedicated operations person, this is manageable. For a cafe owner who's also the barista, the bookkeeper, and the one mopping the floor at close — it's a lot.

Option B: Stop playing music entirely

This is legal and costs nothing. But it costs you something else.

Background music increases customer dwell time by 15-30% and average spend by 9%. Silence in a business space isn't calm — it's conspicuous. Every conversation feels louder. Every clinking glass echoes. The room changes from a place people settle into to a place people pass through.

If you're a seasonal business running on tight margins, losing that dwell time and spend is real money. This option solves the licensing problem by removing the thing that makes your space feel like your space.

Option C: Switch to music that doesn't require PRO licenses

This is the option that didn't exist five years ago.

If every track playing in your business is original — composed independently, never registered with BMI, ASCAP, or SESAC — then no PRO license is required. The performing rights system only applies to works registered within it. Music that exists outside that system is outside its jurisdiction.

This is why I built Puana. Thousands of original tracks, all composed for business spaces. None registered with any PRO. Your subscription — $14.99/month or $149.99/year — includes a commercial music license. One payment, one license, no PRO fees, no letters.

What happens if you ignore it

I want to be honest about this, because the information matters.

BMI's escalation timeline looks roughly like this:

Months 1-3: Additional letters. More formal language. A specific dollar amount for your license fee. A deadline.

Months 3-6: Phone calls from a BMI licensing representative. The conversations are professional but pointed. They'll ask what music you're playing and how. They already have a good idea.

Months 6-12: Correspondence from an attorney. The word "infringement" starts appearing. The tone changes from "let's work this out" to "this is your final opportunity to resolve this before we proceed."

Beyond that: Legal action. Under the U.S. Copyright Act, statutory damages for copyright infringement range from $750 to $30,000 per work for non-willful infringement. If the court determines the infringement was willful — meaning you knew you needed a license and didn't get one — that ceiling rises to $150,000 per work.

Per work. Not per incident. Not per day. Per song.

The point here isn't to frighten you into action. It's to make the math clear. A BMI license for a small business costs roughly $250-500 a year. The alternative path — original music with no PRO registration — costs even less. Either way, the cost of doing something is a fraction of the cost of doing nothing.

Respond to the letter. That single action keeps everything manageable.

The bigger picture

The performing rights system is 85 years old. It was built for radio stations broadcasting to millions, for concert halls seating thousands, for jukebox operators feeding quarters into machines. It was designed for an era when "playing music publicly" meant something very different than pressing play on a speaker in a 30-seat cafe.

The system isn't broken. The principle behind it — songwriters deserve compensation for their work — is right. But the infrastructure was never redesigned for the small business owner who just wants something warm playing while people drink their coffee. Three separate organizations, three separate licenses, three separate invoices, a commercial music service on top, and the lingering anxiety that you might still be out of compliance.

The good news is that alternatives exist now that didn't exist a few years ago. Original music — composed specifically for business spaces, never registered with any PRO — means the entire licensing question dissolves. Not deferred. Not worked around. Dissolved. One subscription, one license, one less thing to think about while you're running your business.

What I'd tell the version of me holding that letter

Music makes your space what it is. It's the first thing people feel when they walk in, and the last thing they remember after they leave. Don't let the licensing system make you afraid of it.

If you got a letter from BMI, you have options. Respond, assess, and choose a path — whether that's licensing through the traditional system or stepping outside it entirely. Either way, there's a clean answer on the other side. This isn't a crisis. It's a business decision, and now you have the information to make it.

The music in your room matters. Keep it playing.

This post is informational. It is not legal advice. If you've received legal correspondence, consider consulting an attorney.

Jesse Meria is the founder of Puana and the owner of Cafe Meria in Charlevoix, Michigan. He built Puana after navigating the music licensing system firsthand — and deciding there had to be a better way.