One of the reasons I devoted one of the closing chapters of Buying In to the DIY/craft/handmade scene is that while it’s clearly a material-culture phenomenon, it’s a material-culture phenomenon that seems to have, on some level, an ideology. Surely that’s irrelevant to some participants, on both the maker and consumer sides of the dialogue. But just as sure, it is very relevant to others.
Here’s a recent example, brought to my attention over the weekend: The Creativity 350 Craft Contest.
The significance of that number is explained at 350.org: “The most recent science tells us that unless we can reduce the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere to 350 parts per million, we will cause huge and irreversible damage to the earth.”
The idea of the Creativity 350 Craft Contest: “Craft up a project that somehow creatively and awesomely expresses the importance of the number 350. You can use any craft technique you like.” (There’s also a T-shirt contest.)
It is, in other words, about getting the word out, on a subject of greater significance than most of consumer/murketing culture, and certainly of greater significance the predictions about The Next Google/Facebook/whatever will be. Crafty sorts: Details of the contest are here.
[Thx, Leah!]
I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty curious about the Girl Talk release.
It’s getting a lot of attention, although nothing like Radiohead did. And although Girl Talk is clearly following in Radiohead’s footsteps by releasing a record on a pay-what-you-want basis, in my view this is a lot more significant. And not just because Radiohead generally bores me to tears.
In addition to that factor, it’s because, as I’ve said before, the whole Radiohead thing was imperfect as an indicator of where the music business might be headed for the simple reason that Radiohead is in fact a creation of the major-label system. The band benefited mightily from the precise traditional band-building method that anti-label zealouts are so fond of attacking. So when those zealots said that In Rainbows demonstrated the death of big music and a portent of a new, enlightened future, their argument was rather seriously undercut by the fact that Radiohead is a product of big music. Period.
So what happens when an artist who was not built by the labels starts dabbling with new distribution methods, and, potentially, builds a major name for him/her/itself in the process?
Girl Talk is at least potentially a more interesting case study to watch.
Plus, Girl Talk gets bonus points for being basically a mashup artist who uses massive numbers of samples to build songs, and apparently doesn’t clear any of it with rights-holders. So he’s pretty thoroughly postmodern.
Thus I’m watching this with interest. (And listening. I paid $10 for the release, and have been listening to it over the weekend.)
The Globe and Mail adds this interesting detail:
If you offer to pay nothing for the download, you get sent to a page with a form that asks you why you are paying nothing, and then gives you a series of check boxes, including:
— I may donate later
— I can’t afford to pay
— I don’t really like Girl Talk
— I don’t believe in paying for music
— I have already purchased this album
— I don’t value music made from sampling
— I am part of the press, radio, or music industry
— Other reasons
I’d love to see the results of that!
Radiohead, of course, never did open up about who paid what for In Rainbows.
Maybe Girl Talk will turn out to be cooler than that….
As this long New York Times piece acknowledges, there’s nothing new about celebrity endorsements. But the piece is correct, I think, in setting out to explore why such endorsements seem more pervasive — higher-profile celebrities, and more thoroughly “integrated” deal formulations. (The article opens with a recounting of Rihanna’s people pitching a company that makes umbrellas, in advance of her now-famous single “Umbrella.”)
To me the key line comes from Steve Stoute. “Hip-hop completely opened the eyes of other music genres as to how to relate to corporations and not be seen as sellouts,” he says.
This isn’t really explored in the piece, so I don’t totally know what he means. But it’s definitely true that nobody is seen as a sellout for doing corporate sponsorship deals anymore, which is why mega-stars (not just in music, but across the board) who ten years ago would have feared tarnishing their reputations don’t sweat such things any more.
I’m guessing Stoute means that hip-hop opened people’s eyes about this in the sense that hip-hop stars simply did it, and there was no particular backlash. So everyone else followed suit.
Possibly the underlying factor is that more people see such deals as signs of hustle, and respect the paydays and corporate support that stars (musical or otherwise) are able to extract from brand-owners. Or maybe he sees other reasons; I’d be curious to know.
(On a consumer level, I think, the way these endorsements really work is that we assume/guess that P. Diddy, or whoever, is smart enough about managing his own brand not to ruin it by association with a truly awful product.)
Meanwhile, the most preposterous quote in the piece is from Rihanna: “We always want to bring an authentic connection to whatever we do. It must be sincere and people have to feel that.”
Oh really? So the authentic connection, I guess, is that the song was called “Umbrella,” and the company writing you massive checks does in fact make umbrellas? (As opposed to, I don’t know, galoshes?)
Come on. There’s no “authentic” reason for a deal like that to exist, other than Team Rihanna “sincerely” smells money. Period.
Moreover, everybody knows it — or “feels” it, if you prefer. Nobody really thinks Rihanna has strong feelings about umbrella quality.
What’s authentic is the hustle.
Not that anybody has a problem with that.
TINKERER’S TOY:
A gizmo that needs hackers to make it better for the rest of us
This week in Consumed: The Chumby. On one level it’s an example of an “ambient device,” but in this case its usefulness depends entirely on the creativity of consumer-hackers. (“The Chumby model attracts people who crave actively creating something that will be enjoyed passively.”)
On another level, its creators suggest that this device reverses the traditional consumer-electronics dynamic:
The alpha-geek development model proposes a revision of a gadget’s life cycle: As creative people keep hacking into what a Chumby can be, the device theoretically becomes more useful the longer you own it. There are elements already in the Chumby that nobody has yet exploited — like a microphone. “Maybe somebody will figure out how to turn it into a Skype phone,” Tomlin suggests. The company is also hoping others will make devices — digital picture frames and the like — that will accept the Chumby Network’s feed. Tomlin doesn’t rule out future generations of his object, but argues that “the same Chumby today is better than it was when someone bought it in November, and one that you buy now will be better in six months.”
A fascinating idea, to be sure. But is this thing bound for garage sales of the future? You decide. The column is here.
Consumed archive is here, and FAQ is here. Consumed Facebook page is here.
I already pointed to this in the linkroll at right earlier in the week, but let’s just pause to appreciate the existence of a blog about doughnuts. (Via bookofjoe.)
Of recent and not entirely frivolous interest on The Blognut: A Q&A with the cofounder of the outstanding Top Pot Doughnuts, addressing that Seattle-based business’s deal with Starbucks, which I hadn’t realized is apparently nationwide.
After skipping last AntiFriday, I’ve already shared some anti-ness and backlashing on Murketing this week: complaints about a new means of show-interruption on TBS, and mixed feelings, at the least, about street artist Fauxreel’s Vespa work (see The Aesthetic Poetic for an earlier take on that). Here’s what else I can offer from the week in dissent and critiques and complaints and like that.
1. Advertising & Marketing Made Easy and Wired both address the recent cellphone-radiation-pops-pocorn viral video — which has apparently been viewed 4 million+ times, and which turned out to be an ad. In truth, I haven’t personally seen a ton of backlash about this, but people have asked me about it. The answer is: I’m not a fan of this kind of thing, at all. But it does seem to have gotten this company’s name around. Whether it does much for the client or not, I’m guessing the marketing firm that made the thing will get some new business as a result.
2. “On July 1st, the Anti-Advertising Agency and Rami Tabello of IllegalSigns.ca will give a free workshop teaching you how to identify illegal advertising and get it taken down. You will leave this workshop equipped to have illegal signs removed in your neighborhood.” Details.
3. Variety:
The U.K. media minister has attacked product placement in TV shows and said he will not allow the practice on British broadcasters even though it has been approved by the European Union.
The news is likely to infuriate TV companies, including beleaguered terrestrial giant ITV, which are all trying to find additional revenue streams as new media continues to make inroads into traditional advertising. Please continue…
I mentioned earlier that on a recent visit to Richmond, VA, I “signed stock” at the Fountain Bookstore. Obviously they sell those signed copies to their local customer base.
However, I recently realized that they also sell online, and after a quick check with the excellent owner Kelly, they’ve now got a special link, whereby non-Richmonders can order one of those signed copies from the store. (Supplies limited, obviously.)
One of the things I’ve learned in the last few weeks is how much it matters to have the support of booksellers like Fountain Bookstore — an independent shop that actually has a point of view. I’ve also learned that such support is more rare than you’d think. So, when I get it, I figure the least I can do is try to support them back.
… 1960?
… 1940?
… the dawn of time?
I don’t know what I would have said, but the answer according to this story is 1985. Global unit sales were 1.8 million billion in 1985, and the “equivalent of” 1.86 billion in 2007.
I’ve always wondered how much the industry’s revenue situation has been exacerbated by the the fact that from 1985 to at least 1998 or so, sales must have been falsely inflated by ever-growing CD sales (both overpriced, and involving a lot of simple format replacement for stuff we already owned). I wonder, if there was a way to remove such sales, how much difference it would make.
Again, I’m not denying the real drops, or factors like rising population (in particular demographic bulge of Gen Y). Just musing.
Note: I know I said I’d get to that Nike follow-up today, but it’s not going to happen. It’s half written, and a little too unwieldy. I’ll get it cleaned up and presentable, and when it’s ready, will post.
In the final section of Buying In, three forward-looking chapters explore where the evolving 21st century relationship between what we buy and who we are might go — or rather where we might take it. This section includes my argument that the conspicuous consumption, keeping-up-with-the-Joneses, status-signal, “badge” theory of consumer behavior is counterproductive and out of date.
In this original essay for ChangeThis, I explore “the invisible badge” as a more useful construct for understanding, and shaping, our own behavior. Short outtake:
The framework of the invisible badge is wholly different [from conspicuous consumption]. It can only be a reflection of who you really are. It can’t be faked. The invisible badge need not derive from religion or environmental consciousness. Your belief system can be drawn from membership in a subculture, or the military, or any number of other sources. Possibly that belonging manifests itself in a tangible, badge-ish way – an old Misfits T-shirt, or a patch signifying service in the 3rd Infantry Division of the United States Army.
But (and this is crucial) even absent the visual signifier, the identity, and its meaning, remain.
I hope you will check it out.
For another view on the subject, Virginia Postrel coincidentally offers “a new theory of the leisure class” in The Atlantic.
Off topic: This was an interesting writing experiment for me, for two reasons. One is that the writing on Change This is in the form of “manifestos,” meaning it’s a much more direct exhortation than I’ve been used to writing lately. If you’re interested in more about that, read on.
Please continue…
Longtime readers know I have a fascination with camo. So of course I’m all over this:
It’s the Mongramouflage, a Murakami-Vuitton joint. See Giant/Robot Eric Nakamura’s post for more.
A Consumed column about camo is here.
So there’s this thing in the book where I mention how bummed out I was when Nike bought Converse, and pretty much every interviewer asks me about it, so I kind of feel like I’ve been on a Nike-bashing tour lately.
Even so, as I say in the book, speaking as a business journalist who writes about branding, I am in awe of Nike: As a capitalist success story, and as an exercise in the raw power of image-making, it is truly astonishing.
Here’s a case in point. The other day I got a call from Eric Neel at ESPN.com. He was writing about some ads Nike had going during the U.S. Open, featuring Tiger Woods. Being totally indifferent to golf, and kind of busy, I knew nothing about this, but he told me the basics. I’ll quote here from Neel’s subsequent June 12 article:
In Nike’s new Tiger Woods commercial entitled “Never,” Earl Woods’ recorded voice plays over clips of his son, as a boy and as a man, practicing his legendary swing. Full of gravitas and pathos, it’s at once the voice of the guru who raised the greatest golfer who has ever lived and the voice of the absent father who died of cancer a little more than two years ago.
While Tiger starts and stops his swings, Earl explains the way he often intentionally distracted his son in order to make him stronger, sometimes dropping a bag full of clubs when Tiger was at the top of his backswing.
“I’d say, ‘Tiger, I promise you,'” Earl says as we look upon his son’s unmistakably steely gaze, “‘that you’ll never meet another person as mentally tough as you in your entire life.’ And he hasn’t. And he never will.”
See the ad here if you like.
Earl Woods, as you may know, is dead. So this is a pretty intense ad. Also possibly creepy, but never mind that. What Neel was curious about was, given that Woods went into this tournament recovering from knee surgery and not in top physical condition, wasn’t there a risk that he would stink up the joint, and both he and Nike would look bad?
In my role as a totally uninformed pundit, I responded that I didn’t think the risk was all that great, or rather that whatever risk there was actually made sense for Nike, which has long taken risks with its advertising, and has been almost impossibly effective at keeping its image fresh and relevant year after year. If this effort failed, well, so it goes.
But — what if Tiger wins? If he does, surely the coverage will be all about his awesome mental toughness and so on. Just like in the Nike ad! In fact, the ad would seem like part of the narrative of the tournament, almost like real-life Tiger was taking his cues from the inspiring marketing campaign.
And of course, Woods won.
Needless to say, I didn’t watch a single second of the coverage, so I don’t know how it all came across. But if Nike took a risk, they sure got the payoff. My musings had nothing to do with any guesses about Woods’ performance. But I will admit I followed a particular instinct: Don’t bet against Nike marketing.
So there’s that. I’ll say something else nice about Nike tomorrow. And it’s not about their ads. Or not exactly.
Powell’s asked me to write an essay for their newsletter, in connection to Buying In. Here’s a short outtake:
On a cultural level, I understand why people want to wall off consumer culture into its own category, something we don’t have to take all that seriously. Critiquing what we buy and why tilts into the commercial marketplace in ways that just don’t feel as serious, as, say, critiquing works of art — even if the definition of “works of art” has gotten pretty fluid. (Somehow a quasi-scholarly critique of Battlestar Galactica, for instance, seems more like what we think of as criticism than a deconstruction of who buys Red Bull, and why.)
But consumer culture is serious….
Read the whole thing here.
Last week I read this NYT article about the latest retail data, for May. “Sales of retail goods and services rose 1 percent in May, double what economists had expected.” Wall Street rallied as on what was seen as surprisingly good news. Since reading this, and some other stuff that I’ll get to, I’ve been mulling the relationship between the consumer mood, consumer spending, and the broader impact of the business of branding. It’s going to take me a few paragraphs to draw this together — and even then I end with questions. So if you’re interested, bear with me on this. Please continue…
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