Bandvertising; what’s the difference between selling out and getting discovered.

Some people claim that advertising is the new radio, and those people could not be more right. MTV is no longer a music channel with ad breaks for brands, it’s now a giant reality TV show (complete with product placement galore), split up by four minute music breaks every 15 minutes. Adverts and music go together like instagram and your dinner – you can have one without the other, but it just doesn't feel quite right.

               

There is, however, a certain amount of snobbery surrounding the use of lesser known musicians in adverts – their die-hard fans think they've sold out, while their fair weather supporters never see them as more than just ‘that bloke who did that song on that advert with the bouncy balls that one time’ – but is that a reasonable summation of the world of music in advertising? I, for one, have never understood why people get so het up because their most beloved undiscovered band is playing on an ad for the a new TV show, rather than in the sticky, weird pub they usually play in, where the acoustics are a bit off and no one is actually listening apart from that one guy in the corner, yelling “play Wonderwall!” through a haze of Guinness breath. If my favourite, formerly ‘unknown’, band is playing on an advert, I get unusually excited because it means that finally my friends will start listening to them, instead of casually ignoring my pleas to expand their iTunes library. So to the naysayers who prefer their beloved artists remain in the confines of their iPods, I say don’t be ridiculous. Bands and artists share and promote their music because they want to be appreciated, not because they want some niche area of Somewheresville, Ohio to be populated with their few but dedicated fans. This is not what I would define as selling out. This is simply sensible marketing.

Selling out is when already established musicians agree to do adverts that do not remotely fit with their image. Can you imagine watching an advert for a washing detergent teamed with the gravelly tones of Bob Dylan? It wouldn’t work. Would you be tempted by an ad for nappies with Snoop Lion serenading you over shots of babies being adorable and messy? Or selling butter with an angsty ditty from The Sex Pistols blasting in the background? Oh wait… Johnny Rotten – going by his grown up name of John Lydon – was at the forefront of the anti-establishment punk movement in the 70’s, and has now reduced himself to peddling (or should I say churning?) dairy products. Way to stick it to the man, John.

                Advertising is about telling your brand’s story in a short amount of time – kind of like a tiny trip to the cinema, but instead of finishing your popcorn before the trailers are over, you actually have some left over after the movie has finished. Much like a film, it needs the right music to convey tone, and a sometimes a formerly unknown folk musician from Nottingham will do a better job in that respect in an ale ad, than an American DJ who regularly performs in packed venues across the world. When that unheard of musician is used, he is not selling out; he is getting his name out to an audience that probably would never have heard of him otherwise. In the digital age it’s naïve for obscure musicians to simply know they’re good and hope that in some strange twist of fate a big time music exec will stumble across their YouTube page with less than 100 views while searching for cat videos. Just remember, without these indie bands ‘selling out’ to Big Bad Inc. we might not have heard of Fun., Foster The People, Feist, The Black Keys, or Rudimental. And that is not a world I want to live in. 

It’s not what you can do for your brand, it’s what your brand can’t do for you.

The Internet has brought us many magnificent and horrifying things. If you’ve ever wondered what certain actresses would look like with no teeth, the Internet can help you. Or if you have a burning desire to watch a video of asneezing baby panda, look no further (it’s adorable). But there has been one huge leap in the 21^st century courtesy of the internet that seems somewhat less celebrated: we are now closer to the brands that we love than we ever have been thanks to social media.

I generally do not ‘like’ products on Facebook, I reserve those thumbs for musicians and TV shows, so all my friends can see how edgy and alternative I am. But having worked in social media for a whole month (not that I’m trying to show off or anything), I am beginning to notice the effort companies try to make with regards to their digital presence. There is now a platform for customers to engage with brands on an easy and accessible level: this ranges from small things – ‘like’ this photo to enter a competition to win a free iPod, iPad, chocolate kettle and £1 million! – to competitions that require substantially more effort – make a video of your nan eating a creme egg while balancing on an exercise ball at the top of the Eiffel Tower and you’ll be in with the chance of winning a pamphlet on how to avoid swine flu! But does this contact actually have any effect on us or how we feel about the brand?

Much like an aging spinster we, as consumers, crave engagement. We want to feel like we’re part of a bigger thing, like we’re needed by a company, apart from just to buy their products. With the advent of sites like Facebook and Twitter, every fanboy and fangirl have been given the opportunity to accost their favourite brands, from sanitary towels to pencil manufacturers, all from the comfort of their spinny chairs at work. But does this platform actually work, or is it just another example of the never used ‘Leave Feedback’ tabs down the sides of a company’s website? Granted, every once in a while there is a spectacular bound made by brands who respond to a fan’s grievance via social media: like the infamous Bodyform response video, or the Sainsbury’s Tiger/Giraffe Bread incident. Yes, they were both hilarious and fantastic, but equally it happens far more rarely than it should. Brands have this amazing opportunity to interact in funny and clever ways with all their fans, but are more often than not choosing to do something else (probably count their money).

It may be the cynic in me, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the big boys don’t actually want to hear from us. Ok, most companies will reply to comments on Facebook and Twitter, but is an answer to our question the only thing we want? These brands are online to get an insight in to what it is the public really desires, but don’t seem to actually be listening, they treat it more as a customer service desk where we go if the Easyjet website is down, or our Tesco’s pizza has some blue plastic in it. So what is the point? All that social media seems to have done is enable a generation of complainers by giving them a handy place to do it from. Alcoholics have the pub, drug addicts have their dealers, and the malcontent have Facebook. Social media has brought us the opportunity to be connected to companies 24/7, but them changing their entire ethos because of one comment is a stretch. Unless the company we engage with see a spectacular PR opportunity in our gripes, we’re just another needy customer, left in the dark with just the dim light of our computer screen to warm us. 

Brands playing games with adults - my view on gamification.

Gamification; [geym-uh-fi-key-shuh-n] noun, verb gamify/gamifying

Using games to make life a little more enjoyable and slightly less depressing

Usage:

“Hey, let’s gamify our otherwise sucky lives!”

“Gamification is a totally fun word to say”

In case the definition of gamification still eludes you, despite the exhaustive explanation above, then it can be summed up as: using gaming techniques in everyday life. (Disclaimer: that is not to say you should start jumping down huge green pipes you come across in real life, you will NOT find a princess.) At last, the hours you’ve plugged away playing The Legend of Zelda and Donkey Kong are actually going to pay off and mean something to someone other than your incredibly abused N64 controller.

Gamification is being used more and more in the work environment, and even increasingly in education, however it’s the gamification of brands that I’m thinking about. If you’re a living, breathing human who is at least marginally in touch with the modern world, you have probably encountered gamification in one form or another. Whenever you check in on FourSquare you are not only letting your friends (and complete strangers) know that you have a concerning fast food addiction, but you are also gamifying. For example, within the FourSquare platform there are ‘specials’ which essentially give you an incentive to check in; be it a free beer with your first check-in at a certain bar, or a discounted bill at your local. But it’s more than just progress bars and badges, otherwise I would have been put off at the first check in – competition? Badges? Sounds a bit too much like Girl Guides for my liking, and God knows I never made it past the cut-throat world of Brownies.

We live in an age where we seem to have an incredibly short attention span, and we need to be constantly entertained – much like children. So why not capitalise on our childish tendencies by reverting us back to our youth, where we would try and sneak in a game of space invaders before mum called us for dinner? Except this time ‘Space Invaders’ is a health app or an online shopping experience. The concept is actually incredibly clever, rewarding people for things that they would probably do just for kicks anyway. For example, the Nike+ FuelBand: it essentially tracks your fitness progress, and if you are so inclined, you would probably download the app anyway, because really, what else would you be doing… running? But then it comes with the added bonus of gaining NikeFuel points when you do fitness activities, and you can compare yourself with an entire community of like-minded sports freaks, and even engage in competitions with them.

               

Despite its benefits, I’ve was always been a bit sceptical about gamification, I saw it as brands trying to motivate me to become a better, more well-rounded and competitive person. You don’t know me, brand, you don’t know what I’ve been through! It is not my cup of tea, I’m not one to embrace competition (throughout childhood I would happily sit back and watch my brother trounce me in game after game of monopoly with no qualms), and I would rather get discounts and perks without having to prove my loyalty through an app.

Advertis-spring: My first weeks as an intern

With springtime right around the corner, things are starting to get that end of the year smell to them. The mugs drying in the sink are being rinsed of their mildew, the cigarette butts on the balcony are tossed aside to make room for new ones, and it is time for me to reflect on my first three weeks as an intern at Arthur.

               

University did not adequately prepare me for working in the ‘real world’. The pensioner’s bed times I seem to have assigned myself are testament to the fact that my student life is well and truly behind me. Yet it is far more rewarding to go to bed at 9.30pm with the knowledge that I achieved something during the day and not wasted it watching hours of day-time TV and boredom-trips to the shops. And although my internship at the Beirut office of Leo Burnett before joining Arthur was a very different experience (my poor/non-existent grasp of Arabic being less of a problem here in London), I feel like I have learnt an invaluable lesson about advertising: if it’s done right then it doesn’t matter about class, creed or colour because a good ad can transcend any language barrier.

One of the main philosophies at Arthur is to find the ‘unavoidable truth’ with regards to clients – essentially discovering things beyond the brand’s surface. For example, if you are on 7.27am train from Surbiton to London Waterloo, you’ll encounter the unavoidable truth that you will not find a seat, and you will be spending the majority of your journey in a businessman’s armpit. But this is one of the things that I love about the agency; it is not all cut and dry. It’s about creating campaigns that are made to last because they address issues that other agencies try to ignore because they appear unflattering to a brand or product.

I am usually involved with the social media side of things, which not only comes with the bonus of getting to do some Facebook stalking on the sly (and no, I can’t believe what’s-her-face from school is having a baby, either!), but also gaining an insight in to what people are actually talking about, and understanding what our clients can do to build a better relationship with customers and fans. I also have to do a lot of research to find content for our Twitter and Facebook, which I absolutely love. Hours spent trawling the internet for news and gossip? Perfect. Unfortunately, as a result, I have become the opinionated know-it-all who thinks she’s an advertising guru after less than a month’s work experience, constantly reeling off opinions at the drop of a hat about how so-and-so’s campaign was average to poor because of this and that, but then bla-bla’s idea of doing this was a stroke of genius considering that thing that happened.

Generally it’s been a grand first few weeks, I’ve learnt an extraordinary amount – not least managing to wrap my head around using Windows 7 – and have probably refreshed Mashable more times a day than I had hot meals last year (which isn’t actually saying much as I was a student with a broken microwave). More importantly it has strengthened my interest in advertising. Now I just have to decide which branch of advertising will be lucky enough to receive me as a professional until retirement. No pressure, then. 

Dinner in the digital age. How the tables have turned.

Ah, the family dinner table. We’re all familiar with it: Dad is relaxing after a long day in the office, listening to the youngest, Tommy, excitedly explaining exactly how much better he is than James at football. Meanwhile, Katie is helping mum set the table, asking for help to decide what she should wear to college tomorrow. But wait… Something isn’t right. Dad has yet again taken his work home with emails pinging-in every 3 minutes. Tommy is enthralled by the high score he’s aiming for in Doodle Jump. Mum is wiping the floor with Debbie from next door in a round of Words with Friends. And Katie is in fact live-tweeting how her meal is going, just to make sure the whole world is aware that she had carrots and peas with her chicken (“and it actually tasted better than expected – Go Mum!”). The picture of the contemporary family at dinner is somewhat over-crowded; everywhere you go you bring your plus one: your smartphone. But is it actually such an unusual sight? Or is the idyllic family dinner-table-scene just a reliable fantasy we pretend we could fulfil, if we weren’t so busy and important.

It feels like meal times have been overrun by instagrammed pictures of soup, updated diet logs, and letting your friends know that, unfortunately, you have once again succumbed to an avocado and prawn salad. Nowadays, we literally have the world at our fingertips, able to instantly find out krazygurl23 from Idunno, Nebraska thought that Jennifer Lawrence’s tumble made for a “#greatOscarsmoment”, or that workoutguy247 feels like he’s over done it this time, “#tired #gym”. Smartphones have become the friends we never knew we needed, but somehow always wanted. Siri doesn’t give you directions with your wife’s quiet smugness; your Samsung Galaxy doesn’t mind if this time you just Google it; and your HTC will never chip in with their opinion on your Facebook status, agreeing that you probably shouldn’t have had that extra slice of cheesecake, “#yolo”.

But before smartphones it was TV-dinners on our laps, and before that, newspapers and ‘novels’. As a child in restaurants I used to love colouring in the pictures that would appear in front of me before the meal was served. Didn’t we all? Fine, Homo Sapiens might be ‘social creatures,’ but sometimes other people are really boring. Maybe we do actually need mental stimulation from elsewhere. We all like to pretend that we’d be great at conversation if we could be bothered, but we can’t, so we won’t try. But is that really the case? Are we as interesting as we think we are? Smartphones aren’t necessarily our foe; they’re just another colouring-in book to distract us from the monotony of everyday life.

We might think it’s rude and antisocial to use our phones at the dinner table, but this dream world we've concocted of the perfect family sitting around, laughing and enjoying themselves is just that, a dream world. If anything, the smartphones may have made us more sociable. We might not be talking to the person next to us, but we are talking, and it’s to the entire world. In the past, mum and Debbie from next door probably just swapped a cursory “hello” over the fence, now they’re battling minds in word games, so although nowadays complaints ring up that we don’t chat around the dinner table anymore, I’ve got to ask the question, did we ever?

Is this the photo of the modern family? (N.B. This has not been instagrammed for your viewing pleasure)