The LCD Syndrome.
Those of you who are practitioners of the arts/branding/communications/media will likely vibe with me on this here thought: in brand marketing, it’s important to distinguish that the notion that “they won’t get it” is drastically different from “we’re not making a point”.
Let me elaborate.
I am of the belief that today’s most purposeful marketing (that which satisfies the near-or-long term “bottom line”) is that finds unique ways/methods to embrace/reference/dance around culture. In a landscape ridden by unorganized noise where it’s always rush hour, paired with unlimited interpretations of pounds and pounds of data, it’s often difficult to navigate where to push, where to pull, and quite frankly, where the hell to rest your hat (this is especially true of national/global brands).
Fear not. (And keep reading after the jump.) Read more…
We Call Them Mixtapes (But They’re Really Capabilities Presentations).
(disclaimer: please pardon the all-lowercase. it’s late, i’m tired, and listening to liveloveasap.)
as much as i try to avoid it, i stay up-to-the-millisecond on what is happening in hip-hop. other things, too, no doubt, but my select few firehoses of hip-hop news (which often isn’t really news to begin with) usually remains open in the form of Chrome tabs that are constantly refreshed.
while we’ve grown accustomed to the overexposure to daily data that the democratized content landscape provides (this IS a CTR world, remember…) a tipping point occurred at random yesterday: about 2944 7-8 mixtapes* hit the web yesterday. one … after … one … like some digital waterboarding.
Reflections: The Box. Spotify. Busta.
My favorite artist during my early adolescent years was Busta Rhymes. In spite of my parents’ consistent and stern disapproval of his lyrical content (which, in turn, prompted me to listen even more), “Woo-Hah!!” was the first cassette single that I broke through excessive listening.
You see, like many Brooklynites, I grew up in a household devoid of cable television, so for me to successfully retain content, I employed one of three tactics:
-spend way too much time in the barbershop, post-Ceasar
-Ralph McDaniels (VMB on Saturday night)
-The Box aka Channel 39 on UHF.
More often then not, I turned to The Box to not only watch videos (there were no genre filters, which made the viewing experience wack juice), but to occasionally order them. For those who don’t remember, The Box famously positioned themselves as “music television YOU control”- which in today’s context, really isn’t the control we’ve grown accustomed to (just another testament to how far things have come). In any event, this antiquated form of access spurned irrational behavior such as paying $11 to request “Woo-Hah!!” twice, its glorious mind-bending remix featuring ODB, and then waiting attentively and for the videos to play simply so I can record them on VHS.
If there are any adolescents reading this now, you’re probably wondering – what the HELL is wrong with this guy? And for good reason.
Earlier this month, Spotify officially launched in the US- a service I suspect to be a game changer for the music enthusiast. With the old adage of “consumption up, profit down”, Spotify has essentially created a perfect storm of discovery, active participation, and curation that will no doubt change the way people engage in music. I’ve been using the service for several months now and despite the persistent empty room, I’ve reconnected with songs (rare joints, indeed) that I’d normally find/listen to on YouTube without the pressure of having to qualify a purchase.
I tend to think of Spotify, Turntable.fm, and the forthcoming cloud invasion as the The Box’s desire for total viewer control coming full circle. All those minutes waiting in front of the TV and parents’ dollars wasted on one video (one video!!) are now, in essence, spent refining my tastes and discovering new ones by virtue of the people who’s opinion I value the most.
True control finally realized, and a wealth of culture for those who choose to digest it (brands and people alike).
{SUITS STILL SUCK!}
The Facts of Life According to Eddie Temple
As We Continue On…
¡Feliz Navidad & Prospero Año Nuevo!
Apparently, I have this incessant slump of posts that occur towards the end of the year… and who am I to break tradition?!?
Seriously, though- recently I’ve been focusing my efforts on Generation Ñ/NGL/whatever-is-the-watchword-of-the-moment-is, a segment of consumer that I happen to fall into- particularly to a special focus my new role bears (more on the job switch at the top of ’11). When it comes to issues of culture, identity, lifestyle interests, passion points, etc., all traditional notions of “what works” must be reconsidered because a duality (TRIality, in some cases) exists.
The above clip is a wonderful spoken word piece that caught me instantly because it so honestly and accurately speaks to my point-of-view. The below clip is a Tony Touch song that I’ve always felt was super dope (and underappreciated) that celebrates the mirror image of Latinos, Afro-Latinos, Africans, and African-Americans.
Just some end-of-year food for thought to hold you down until the SUITS return at the end of the aughts…
The G.O.O.D. Groundswell: G.O.O.D. Fridays & Cultural Marketing
(DISCLAIMER: This post contains the thoughts of the individual author, and in no way reflects the opinions of his employer or its affiliates.)
We believe that, at its core, culture always wants to change- especially pop culture. In fact, change it its whole job. Cultural change is imminent, waiting for random events, either large or small, that will push it over the edge.
In the end, cultural change is the product of an alchemy of events and individual influence. As the cultural conditions change, the change is expressed in particular events; influencers become early detectors of this change and communicate it to the rest of the community.-Alex Bogusky, “Baked In”
As I write this on Saturday, September 25th at approximately 4:26pm, the song that’s blaring right now is an “Ill Street Blues” freestyle from up-and-comer (and homie) STS. There isn’t any particular reason that I’m playing this song aside from the fact that I spent the last 9 hours listening to another one on repeat; if you’re on my wavelength (and if you’re reading this, I’m assuming you are), it’s “I’m Appalled”, this week’s installment of his “G.O.O.D. Fridays” series.
We all know that since the jump, creativity- and spontaneity, for that matter- have been paramount for Mr. West; his success is largely a function of his willingness to create the transformative, the weird, the beautiful, and the triumphant. (and remember, he called it six years ago on “Last Call” rapping, I’m the gap like Banana Republic and Old Navy). That said, his willingness to employ Twitter as not only a channel for communication (he really doesn’t follow anyone, nor @replies many people) isn’t surprising, but the extent to which he’s carved out and effectively embraced a bespoke content-centric marketing strategy, is. “G.O.O.D. Fridays” have not only become a key promotional vehicle for Kanye, they’ve become somewhat of an artisitc institution in its young existence due to the sheer personal authenticity in its execution.
In the recent past, we’ve witnessed the admirable-yet-irrelevant attempts of hip-hop artists to rally Internet audiences through branded series’ of rapidly-released music. The fundamental problem with those promotional tactics, I feel, was two-fold: to begin with, there wasn’t an existent demand for this new content to satisfy, making the sensationalized deployments confusing. Secondly, there lacked a clear sense of purpose as to why those distinct methods (timing, audience) were chosen: because the non-existent barriers to entry allowed them? Because it was in the realm of possibility that they’d be received as innovative by the blogosphere? Not sure. My personal feeling is that songs/promotions that are meant to be remembered should be cooked with mystique as its key ingredient- otherwise, the time-full approach is no more engaging than a display banner, a digital throwaway flyer that Lord knows nobody keeps.
“G.O.O.D. Fridays”, on the other hand, is bereft of the impersonal, mechanic “GO COP THIS ON iTUNES! NOW!”, rhetoric that hip-hop fans have come to grow familiar with, and delivers at the core of every fan’s desire: high-profile, FREE hip-hop music. These aren’t throwaway tracks, nor there are no hit-counters or numerical benchmarks each week being shouted at consumers to encourage downloads. What does exist is an intelligent-yet-emotive ripple that originates as a link on a Friday evening and manifests itself as word-of-mouth (and earned media/buzz/fodder… whatever you want to call it) ensued throughout the subsequent six days. Also noteworthy is the artistic consistency: black-and-red-with-opaque-image-of-woman art direction which represents a quiet noise that, for Kanye, is fitting. Plus, you know you’ve struck a chord when the community embraces it and playfully imitates… below are the current meme-ish Twitter avatars for digital media captains LowKey and Semtex:
I think it’s safe to say, if Kanye decided to release all the G.O.O.D. Friday songs as a single “mixtape” (the quotation marks are deliberate because I loathe the incorrectness and primitive nature of that term), its value proposition, its story, and its musical expiration date all shift, and fall into the abyss of convention. By leveraging the temporal engagement that is a unique factor of Twitter’s culture, he’s essentially created what can only be described as digital “events” that, for the listener, conjure both a sense inclusion and social currency.
When he released the above Tweet this afternoon, my first thought was, “of course he can say that”, but I immediately retracted and thought, “he’s straight ‘incepting’ all these people by scoffing at the system.” And why not? We all know that the music industry model is evolving, and as its acting change agent, Kanye’s role should discernibly be to remove that veil, and embrace the road ahead.
Creativity has become the ultimate business weapon. The same creativity that’s been used to change culture through advertising can also be applied to distribution, packaging, and even-you guessed it- the product itself.
-Alex Bogusky, “Baked In”
For us culture vultures and marketing folk, this represents an interesting case study to eventually analyze whether this activity moved the needle for Kanye (and Def Jam’s) bottom line- the register. Sure, the resulting groundswell and it’s analog popularity is remarkable, and yeah, they performed a two-week old song, born-of-social-media in front of 60,000+ who knew it word-for-word, but what most want to know is whether you can authentically promote a $9.99 a physical (or ethereal) product when gratis has been the strategy up until this point. My prediction? The community will indeed respond not only because they’re invested emotionally, but because the music, in their eyes, has largely been perceived as cultural contribution, and for them to embrace the attached for-profit enterprise is their vocalized support materialized. (It’s a little funny thinking of Kanye as an operating enterprise similar to that of PBS, but hey, this is MY BLOG.)
In the end this campaign has enough potential to be celebrated with the likes of , well, “Big Mack.”
Welcome back, smart hip-hop promotional marketing. And have a nice weekend.
The Irony Is Killing Me.
Llegó El Fuerte.
Throughout the last few weeks, the Latino media has been in a whirlwind over Omega, and rightfully so. Not only is merengue urbano quickly inching towards stateside critical mass almost identically to the way reggaetón did a few years ago, but, in Omega, the genre has what could potentially be its most identifiable figurehead.
I’m not going to go too deep into his story (there are others who are more familiar with it than I am), but I will say this much: at Club Area in Queens this past Friday (yes, I’m in the hood too!), I witnessed firsthand the phenomenon that is El Fuerte. Between the love, hype, speculation, and mystique that was simultaneously felt- and he wasn’t even performing- I can honestly say that the stage, while already set for his success, might need to accomodate the unexpected surge of a secondary, non-Latino audience (as history has taught us in the past).
Yeah, it’s that serious. (For those interested: the announcement for his Northeast Tour is being made this morning in NYC at the office of the Dominican Consulate…)
Salute to the homie DJ Spin One for holding it down, as always.
Another video after the jump. Read more…
The Sinatraization of Hip-Hop: Halloween or Homage?
I love the part in the beginning of Ocean’s 13 where Reuben tells Bank (played by Al Pacino) that there was a code amongst “guys that shook Sinatra’s hand.” While that ritualistic sensibility might’ve originated with the “friends of mine/friends of ours” sets of old, is has somehow trickled down and made evident again through the likes of Diddy, Jigga, and most recently as part of a promotional campaign for this years VMAs, Drake.
I’m interested not by the reasoning behind the stark, overall gravitation towards Old Blue Eyes- we can all only wish that we embodied an ounce the eternal cool that he was portrayed as having- but more at the fact that hip-hop’s fetishistic transparent obsession with his persona is so recurring. Last week, I had an opportunity to view Drake’s TVC on MTV.com, and the first thing that came to mind (before I could mentally complement it, because it is a dope spot) was “wait, isn’t being Sinatra Jay’s thing?” It’s been less than a year since “Empire State of Mind” hit full swing and the critical mass and mainstream media were obsessed daily with his self-pronouncement of being the “new Sinatra”, creating a storm of rumors that “Empire” would now, or soon, replace “New York, New York” as the city’s consummate psalm.
“The Why In NYC”
Earlier this morning as I rode the L train, I was reading an article in the new Fader about Spoek Mathambo where a blockquote essentially screamed out at me as it met my eyes when I turned the page:
“How much do I want to play into the fact that my culture’s been so much of my life, and how much do I want to say f*ck it, I want to do something completely and utterly reactionary?”
I would agree to say that this sentiment is evident throughout the sensibilities of us native New Yorkers who have enjoyed years of being at the forefront of culture, but are now at the crossroads of nostalgia and progression; the recurring theme of “upholding culture” doesn’t always fit well with the implications of the “on to the next one” plight of today.
HOWEVER…
There are certain instances where they meet perfectly- basketball is definitely one of those examples. This summer, we, the once gatekeepers of the global epicenter- its MECCA-, have been engaged more than ever with the culture of basketball. Between The LeBromination, the World Basketball Festival (which hosted some of the fr-fr-freshest events I’ve attended this summer. Shouts to 94×50 & Nike for looking out..), and the myriad of tournaments that turn the playgrounds into the proverbial hollowed grounds, there are feelings of an imminent return to glory.
Rik Cordero’s attentive eye and the homie Lemon Andersen’s ultra-focused prose have essentially, in one clip, visualized this locally-focused, globally-minded “get down or lay down” sensibility in their self-described “ode to NYC” entitled “The Imperial”.
The Good Lord knows I’m as New York as they come, and this “25th Hour-esque” juxtaposed lens on our daily lives is remarkable, and is living proof that reports of our fall from grace have been greatly exaggerated.
I’m truly looking forward to their next two interpretations.