Awesome Music in Ads
Awesome Music in Ads by Roxanne McDonald
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Some say it’s a sellout move, others beg to differ. |
The other day at a neighborhood picnic, I was wrinkling my nose at hearing some favorite music being what I thought was bastardized in a car commercial. My neighbor gently corrected my single-mindedness, reiterating comments from some musicians that he said express their pleasure at “finally getting some recognition/exposure.”
“Anyone,” he paraphrased, “ thinking otherwise—that bands are selling out to commercialization—are idiots.”
Now, I’m pretty non-confrontational, in person, anyway, so I just thanked my friend for the new take on music in ads. But when I got home, I decided that no, I was not settling for this attitude overall.
True, the appeal to authority approach is and has been an effective one for decades, with everyone from actors who play doctors on TV to celebrities peddling hair and beauty products to singularly sexy and identifiable voices doing ads for everything from cars to candy (James Spader’s voice seems particularly convincing in Acura ads, for example, while Sally Kellerman—of M.A.S.H. movie—can be id’ed talking seductively to and about the Milky Way bar).
And okay, granted, some musical artists need income, need to find their niche. For example, when I was a kid, my mother gifted me a copy of an album by Jake Holmes, formerly of the Yardbirds. I played the hell out of that album, and to this day can sing the lyrics. Then I heard that distinctively crisp voice as if it was a blast from a past I thought no one else had access to—on television in an ad for deodorant or something.
Now, you might know, Jake has had a tough go in the rock world, having his classic “Dazed and Confused” allegedly ripped off, for example. He also has a virtual career making backdrop music and jingles for some of the biggest companies in the marketing world. Maybe, then, musicians like Holmes have an appreciation for the income, regardless of what the product is they are hocking [or helping to hock].
Ding Dong the Bitch is Dead
Ding Dong the Bitch is Dead by Roxanne McDonald
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Finally! Bret got rid of Lacey. Eww. I’m still shaking off the slimy feelings. |
My friends who are also appreciators of TV came to visit this weekend. And though they don’t get into as many or the same reality TV shows I do, they patiently sat through not only the episode of “Rock of Love” where Lacey gets the boot but my explicit backstory on each of the remaining contenders and summaries of critiques by other TV writers of “Rock of Love” as a “train wreck” of a show.
Before I even fully expressed how much “we” can’t stand Lacey, one of my friends was shouting out how evil she looked and acted. He also got hooked on how funny Bret is in the interviews…, you know, when he does his mocking commentaries such as how those big breasts on blondie convinced him they could have a beautiful relationship. Grin.
But almost more delightful an experience than having my friends as company or enjoying Bret’s satire was watching Lacey implode, burn, and crash. Finally…, Heather gets hep to her two-faced, manipulative bullshit. Finally…, somebody [Heather] calls Lacey on her lies. And finally…, Bret gets equally hep and gives up the hope of Lacey being the underhanded, back-stabbing, front fouling hag she is.
And worse, but maybe what helped push Bret over the edge of real reality, was how appalling Lacey’s father was, as well.