If This Is A Blog Then What's Christmas?

Last week I had the pleasure of meeting Kenzo Digital (I’m not sure that’s his real name, although I didn’t ask him, so it might be).

He’s an amazing video artist who has been CD on Nike and Brand Jordan at W&K NY.

Here’s the kind of thing he does now:

Amazing, isn’t it?

So we had a coffee (I had tea; I don’t drink coffee) and some interesting things came up:

We both grew up in the era of the cassette, so I lamented the way ‘kids’ these days don’t have the opportunity to really live with an album. Back in the 80s and 90s, if you bought an album you most likely did so on something called an audio cassette, which looked like this:

You couldn’t just go straight to the track you wanted; you had to ‘fast forward’, and guess where the next track would be (annoyingly, different players had different FF speeds, so you had no idea where you were aiming for). This would involve overshooting, rewinding a bit and eventually getting to the right place to hear your song in relatively low quality audio. But on the plus side, most times you couldn’t be bothered to do this, so you had to listen to the whole album and that meant giving more of a chance to those tracks you weren’t immediately that keen on. Many’s the time a track you didn’t like at first would reveal itself to be your favourite, you’d enjoy the album for longer and you would practise the interesting idea of ‘giving things a chance’. No instant gratification, just enforced consideration leading to increased satisfaction and happiness. Yes, there were other annoying things about cassettes, such as the fact that unless an album had two sides of exactly equal length, the tape would spend a while silently running out on one side before the welcome clunking of auto reverse turned it over and started the new side (I remember buying the cassingle of Gett Off by Prince and spending an entire transatlantic flight listening to the so-so extra mixes then FF-ing the tape to reach Gett Off again. Happy days). And the fact that you had to buy the whole thing, instead of individual tracks, meant that artists would often get away with padding out a few good tracks with six mediocre ones that you had to just take a chance on. But overall the listening and buying experience felt deeper because you had a more thorough relationship with the music you bought.

Nowadays of course you can buy track by track, leaving no place for the filler to hide, and you can access those tracks instantly again and again to your heart’s content or arrange them in whatever order you like. This has many advantages, such as being able to listen to OK Computer without Fitter Happier or Electioneering, or listening to In Da Club fourteen times in a row because it’s just so fucking good. But then it also has its disadvantages, which come mainly from the perceived disposability of any tracks you don’t like straight away, or those incredible B-sides that Oasis used to stuff their singles with. Now you are a curator who adapts what the artist has given you to suits your wishes, and although that sounds good on the surface, it creates a very different relationship between you and the makes and sellers of the music. Here’s an example: when Run DMC’s What’s It All About was big at the end of 1990, rumours went around my school about this great rap track that had the hook from Fools Gold, but my ability to hear said track was pretty much non-existent. When I finally got hold of it the feeling was akin to hunting down the holy grail; this was a BIG DEAL. Now you can just find any track on YouTube and listen to it instantly for free, no matter where in the world it’s a hit. Does that make you respect the music more? It can’t do, and if you’re not respecting the music as much, the same goes for the artist and the place you buy the tracks (and that’s leaving aside the whole issue of piracy).

Maybe that’s not a problem, or it’s both good and bad, but it’s a huge change in the way we all consume something that’s a massive part of many of our lives. And it just happened without anyone really knowing it would all be different in a few years’ time. We just took it on and here we are. But then there are many people who are reacting against it, evidenced by the fact that the only music medium which is increasing in popularity is vinyl. Maybe we don’t want all the power. Maybe some of us like deifying the people who bring spine-tingling magic into our lives. I suppose the choice is still there, but if it’s not what the majority does then the effect is diminished.

Kenzo and I then talked about other stuff, but I think I’ll leave the 90s hip-hop chat for another time.

How the Eames lounge chair is made.

The best McDonald’s meals outside the US (thanks, Z).

Excellent Hungry Hungry Hippos trailer:

The top 50 James Bond moments in 007 minutes.

Capuchin monkeys reject unequal pay (thanks, G):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8mynrRd7Ak

What do guys’ texts mean? (Thanks, M.)

Bad lip reading presidential debate:

The ultimate faceplant compilation (thanks, J):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnMljKFqgY0&feature=player_embedded

And the best of Paxman (thanks, V):

Here’s an interesting Nike spot from back in the day that addresses all those ridiculous rumours about Lance Armstrong’s drug taking (thanks, G).

And here is the news.

What I find fascinating is Lance’s amazing ability to lie for all that time.

Did he think he’d never get caught?

And does that come from arrogance or stupidity?

I guess that’s what happens when you ‘pedal’ drugs (geddit!!11!?????).

I think I’ve mentioned working on The Economist campaign before, but I now have a good reason to bring you a tepid rehash of that post.

The lovely people at Sonic Editions are offering limited edition screen-prints of ten classic Economist posters.

I think they’d go great in your office or downstairs lav. The very best are beautifully written pieces of advice for all areas of your life, so why not give them a good ponder while you’re curling one out or throwing up after a night on the Bucky?

So if you missed the original post, here are a few interesting (if you’re into that kind of thing) facts about working on The Economist’s Red and White poster campaign:

1. People would often do the same ads. The one with Brains out of Thunderbirds was put forward year after year by different teams until there was a chance to get it out at the same time as the movie release, giving it extra topicality. Teams were very aware of the possibility of this, so they’d ‘reserve’ a good poster by sticking it up in their office so people knew it was ‘theirs’ and should not be done by another team in the following round.

2. The point of the campaign was not to sell copies of The Economist. Instead it was to make people feel like they ought to say they read it, so that when the readership research was conducted (‘Do you, Mr. clever rich person, read The Economist?’) people would say yes and The Economist would charge more for its advertising. I’m sure it also sold a few more copies, but that wasn’t the campaign’s raison d’être.

3. The whole department worked on it. As Peter Souter once told me, it was our ‘treat’. He was right. It was fun to work on, and a very likely award-winner. Thank you, David Abbott.

4. I did about twenty of them and they all came about through different methods. Some were the result of three solid days poring over the dictionary or thesaurus; for others I happened to be in the room when my art director came up with them; some gestated for years; others popped into my head fully-formed. I remember asking Malcolm Duffy how he came up with his. He said that there were lots of ways, then told me that one day he was reading the thesaurus when David Abbott passed his office. ‘You won’t find any Economist ads in there,’ said David. Later that day Malcolm came up with ‘Attracts Magnates’. So you never know.

5. My favourite is one that never won any awards that I’m aware of: ‘The loneliest place in the world is the edge of a conversation’.

Beautiful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6r_WX2M-s8&feature=share

I think the performances are great, the gag is pretty funny, and the introduction of the product entirely acceptable.

I also think it has the first PPG* I’ve seen in years that actually made me smile.

*Post-pack gag.

By the way, I removed yesterday’s post because, on reflection, it was a bit personal. I still disagree with what Mr Y said, but I think I’ll leave it there.

Led Zeppelin are about to release a DVD of their 2007 O2 concert.

On Friday they’ll be introducing the film at the Hammersmith Apollo, and I’m very excited to have tickets to see that.

If you’d like to see how they’re getting along now, have a look at this:

(Thanks, B.)

Last Thursday I had the great pleasure of spending an evening at The Groucho Club in the company of Sir John Hegarty (I know! Who stuffed me into a Delorean and sent me back to 1985? Well, it was Lisa Batty of IPC magazines. She organises a book club and last week’s was John Hegarty’s).

John spoke and we listened and asked questions and drank booze and ate those mini hamburgers that don’t have any calories. Here are the best bits of wisdom I can recall:

When John was at art school his teacher said that when a picture wasn’t working the worst thing you could do was give up, turn the page and start again. You had to keep at it until the picture worked. The teacher then paused and said, ‘I suppose I’m also talking about life’. That’s a great lesson. Most of What Sir John said came down to the message ‘Never, ever, ever give up’, and that story was a brilliant illustration of why you shouldn’t.

When he was taking tennis lessons he had real trouble getting his backhand right. He could swing a mean forehand but no matter what he did he couldn’t get his backhand going. Then one day he hit a perfect one: great position, smooth shot, right down the line, at which point his teacher said, ‘Right, we shall now move on to the overhead smash’, to which John replied, ‘Hang on, I’ve only hit one good backhand.’ His teacher turned around and said, ‘If you can do one, you can do a thousand. We shall now move on to the overhead smash’. The point is to have belief. Like a lot of creative people, John had a sneaking suspicion that he only had a finite store of, say, 500 good ideas, which would eventually run out. But they don’t run out. If you can have one, you can have 1000.

Then he told a story about this Levi’s ad:

Apparently, the original music for this was ‘It’s A Man’s World’ by James Brown, but when it was laid to picture it made the male model look like a really bad actor. The thing was, John just thought the performance was crap and nothing could be done about it, but then someone found out that an ad in Belgium was using that song (the Levi’s ad was due to run in Belgium) so they had to try another one, which ended up being Mannish Boy by Muddy Waters, a track that looks like the entire ad was choreographed to match. So brilliance can come from the most unexpected places, particularly when you’re working with film, which always relies on the existence of a bit of magic that you can never fully control.

There was much other great wisdom, although we disagreed on (or never quite explored) the issue of creatives no longer making a name for themselves as they used to in the days of Tom and Walt, Steve and Vic, John and Nick etc. I suggested that as creatives were not given the opportunities to be as famous today (for many reasons I’ve explored in past posts) other methods could be used to gain that notoriety, including blogs such as this. John quite reasonably argued that it should be the work that makes you famous. I agree, but these days it just doesn’t happen, so when the world zigs, zag (I can’t remember who said that). You could knock it out of the park like Cabral, but there hasn’t been one of those since his last good ad (five years ago!). The odds are stacked against us. Get your advantage where you can. It’s worked for me and Trotty.

But thanks a million John, for the amazing career of great ads (so far) and being truly inspirational and very pleasant company.

How to choose the perfect board game.

Why is it dark at night (thanks, P)?:

600lb or 169lb… Who will win?

What would you have done? (Thanks, T.)

Liam Neeson, The Musical (thanks, C).

Amazing hand lettering of Subterranean Homesick Blues (thanks, C).

Your brain on dope (thanks, P):

Gandalf Europop Nod (thanks, J):

‘The best TV show ever’.

Cartoon Network 20th anniversary (thanks, P):

Ikea got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one (thanks, T).

Human flesh meat market.

Songified presidential debate (thanks, P):

Emile Heskey on the Rod Hull and Emu show (thanks, R):

Jonathan King’s somewhat apologetic song about Harold Shipman.

Hand shandy on Cathay Pacific (thanks, P):

It can be found here.

I don’t know anything about why they made it or what it’s trying to achieve, so I’ll just say what I think of it as a Facebook user and ad blogger.

I like the writing because it has an unusual rhythm for an ad. However, it’s also somewhat obvious and presents ideas you’ve probably already come across. The universe is vast and dark? We want to connect with people? No shit. So then I need a reason to care about Facebook, which I already use, and already know why I use it. It’s not because it’s like a chair or a bridge or a chipmunk’s balls, it’s because I can keep up-to-date with some of the things my friends are doing and play Wordscraper with my parents. The only people who need Facebook explained to them are the very small number of people who use the internet and don’t use FB. But I don’t think this ad will tip them over the edge into being users because it doesn’t particularly convey the FB experience of time wasting trivia.

On top of that I have written before about the strange prevalence of analogies in advertising but rarely have I seen the technique used quite so brazenly. Facebook is like a chair because…

Hang on. Facebook isn’t like a chair.

It says:

‘Chairs. Chairs are made so that people can sit down and take a break. Anyone can sit on a chair, and if the chair is large enough they can sit down together. And tell jokes or make up stories or just listen. Chairs are for people, and that is why chairs are like Facebook.’

That is bullshit. Facebook doesn’t allow you to sit down and take a break. It is the break. That’s like saying football is like a chair, or Eastenders is like a chair. This feels like a creative chucking out an idea before the other creative says, ‘Hey! Doesn’t work. Choose some other analogy so we can go to the pub’.

‘Doorbells, airplanes, bridges. These are things people use to get together so they can open up and connect about ideas and music and other things that people share.’

Yes, people do use those things to do that, but that’s not their only use and that’s not why they were invented. You could well add oxygen to that list, or food, or dogs.

‘Dancefloors, basketball.’

You see… anything, really. Including…

‘A great nation is something people build so they can have a place where they belong.’

Fucking hell. Is Facebook really likening itself to a great nation? And I’m about 99.9985678977% certain that’s not why a ‘great nation’ gets built. That happens through a process of struggle, violence, disagreement and greed and in the end the finished article always pisses off an enormous bunch of people. That sounds closer to Facebook, so they’re right about the comparison but they chose the wrong reasons.

This ad is obviously not an attempt to get non-Facebook users to use Facebook. If I were a betting man I’d guess it’s some sort of image building exercise intended to make people think the somewhat contentious social media site is nothing but a soft, warm duvet of goodness. It’s big and great and helps the world, and anyone who thinks it’s just for sharing funny videos of cats is seriously missing the point.

Why?

Dunno.

Maybe it’ll fool Facebook shareholders into forgetting how much cash they’ve lost, but I doubt it.