4.25.01
Farvegcrooken
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Automatic Ad Campaign
A voice like spun sugar erupts from a mouth full of marbles over the Web radio waves. After extolling the virtues of The New York Dolls, the comfortingly unprofessional DJ announces that you've just grooved to some stripped-down Robert Johnson rhythms and bopped along with Gloria Jones Cobb's original version of Tainted Love. Soon, this eclectic audiophile has convinced you that the Roxy Music album she just played is not only amazing -- it's a must have. You don't know Bryan Ferry from Brian Boitano, but once she reminds you, "it's that easy" to click the buy button, your credit card enables your acceptance into the school of hard rox.

As you may have deduced, this ain't your average, weak-signaled college radio station. It's Volkswagen Radio, and no matter how genuine it sounds, it's more about Volkswagen branding and ecommerce than education. Yes, VW's TV commercials have sparked an underground music revolution, or so the car-makers would have us believe. In response to this alleged ad-inspired sub-culture clamor, bug-branders have gone punch drunk and created a full-on, online radio station. According to the 4/20 Advertising Age brief, "The automaker was among the first in its industry to use obscure music in its TV ads." Evidently, Havas Advertising's Arnold Worldwide's use of that insipid Da da da tune in the 1997 Golf commercial "revived interest in the song" and started us off on the road to 24/7 VW-branded radio.

Notes the RadioVW site oh-so-casually, "somewhere along the line we thought maybe we could find a way to feature even more music than one song here and there on a TV spot…. There's thousands (maybe millions) of great tracks out there….. So finally, here's a way to hear all that, from the comfort of your computer. And even buy a particular album, if the mood strikes…." Talk about slippin' in the truth ever-so-slyly.

Throughout the ad world these days it seems as though the general consensus is, "It's so cool that agencies are using good music in commercials now." Even during my interview on Columbia University's WKCR, host Damon Root opined that ad campaigns like VW's are helping to open the minds of the once-clueless masses to lesser-known music. I'll admit that I don't like hearing any tune in an ad that wasn't written solely for that purpose. Doesn't any one else cringe at the notion that people require a television ad to turn them on to a little culture? Then again, it's not surprising considering the fact that advertisements have become the entertainment of choice for the MTV generation.

Hey, even though I lost one of my nine lives in a Scirocco, I've got nothing against Volkswagens. In fact, I'd probably give my left pinky for a mint Karmann Ghia or Squareback. Think about this, though: the RadioVW site stresses, "Music's been good to us. We thought we'd return the favor." Let's complete that statement: "We thought we'd return the favor by commandeering underground music culture for use in our own branding efforts." Wouldn't it be nice (must-have Beach Boys ditty) if VW could employ the same amount of original creativity it does for its ad visuals when choosing the audio components for them? And by that I mean that VW should compose something new rather than laying claim to something with its own pre-established aesthetics.

The next thing you know, our friendly neighborhood VW rep's gonna be droppin' by the apartment to hook us up with a killer mix tape and some tasty buds. I think I'd rather invite Joe Isuzu over before that happens. At least his intentions to sell us cars aren't masquerading as magnanimous musical mind expansion.

Mon Petit Choux Slam
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White-washed Tires
Throughout New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio, a grocery store chain called Tops has won over the hearts of many a bulk-food pilferer. Perhaps the affection bestowed on Tops is most evident in the adoption of the store's commercial jingle into the customer lexicon. Not only do loyal shoppers joyously belt the lyrics, "Tops never stops; look what's in store," they claim the slogan song as their own by transforming it to, "Tops never mops; look at the floor." To outsiders, it may seem disparaging, but to Tops die-hards, it's the ultimate expression of love and devotion.

Canadian department store, Canadian Tire, can relate. You see, it's got a true fan in Mick Mcfadden. The thing is, Mcfadden just doesn't realize it. Somehow, the owner of the crappytire.com Web domain has deluded himself into thinking that he doesn't like Canada's popular house of commerce. Canadian Tire knows better. In fact, in its efforts to force Mcfadden to hand over the crappytire.com URL, the company would have us believe that the oft-used Canadian Tire title is merely a term of endearment. As featured in The Register's 4/18 story, the tire-pushers insist that "People call it crappy tire, but they don't mean it in a nasty way." That's right, crappy tire is really a "loveable nickname." So, it follows that Canadian Tire should be awarded ownership of the domain because it "clearly infringes [its] trademark rights."

Apparently, this is Canadian Tire's spare plan to win over Mcfadden. According to the article, the first time 'round, Canadian Tire expressed dissatisfaction with the crappytire.com site which featured an upside down version of the store's logo. Canadian Tire made two attempts at purchasing Mcfadden's domain name, "But he refused on the grounds that he didn't like their attitude." Now the tire shop with the rotating story has patched its argument by claiming "it has rights to the name because that's what people call it colloquially." Hmmm…I guess that means that Budweiser deserves the rights to PissWater.com, and IKEA should be given possession of SomeAssemblyRequiredMyAss.com.

Ya know, it seems to me that Canadian Tire ought to be a little miffed about Mcfadden's mock-fest. It's downright offensive, as well as detrimental to Canadian Tire's brand. I mean, how dare Mcfadden taunt the retailer without acknowledging Canada's French-speaking population? I suggest that Mcfadden cease his disrespectful display and register PneumatiqueMerdeux.com tout de suite.

Prescription for Promotion
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Drug Infirmation
Bruce Vilanch is in the center square, competing with a mascara-laden bimbo from some Telemundo soap opera blaring from the other TV across the room. The malodorous guy to your right has hacked up a third of his left lung in the past thirty minutes, ensuring that you'll probably feel worse when you leave than you did before you got here. Yep, sometimes it seems like lingering in a doctor's office waiting room can be more frustrating than the ailment that brought you there. And if that's not annoying enough, just wait 'til that drug company sales rep slithers his way past the golden gate to see the good doc before you've had your chance.

As featured in a 4/14 Economist piece (Rebirth of a salesman), "In America, an army of 63,000 drug-firm sales reps pound the pavement in an attempt to persuade doctors to prescribe their companies' latest products." It's called "doctor detailing," and according to the story, it cost "almost half of the $15.5 billion that drug companies spent on product marketing" last year. The thing is, it's not the most efficient way of getting the message across to time-strapped physicians. In fact, only 60% of these prescription pitch-peeps make their way past reception, and when they do, "almost 90% of such meetings last less than two minutes."

Two minutes doesn't seem like a long time for anybody, even a well-educated doctor, to grasp the nuances of a new drug's effects. How do these physicians even remember the drug names after a fleeting briefing like that? Hey, that explains the confusion! The last time I asked my doctor for sleeping pills, instead of Somastat, I ended up with some Viagra knock-off called Bone-a-Stat.

So, now the old-school, doc-to-doc sales call is being replaced by the "e-detailing" session. Companies like ePocrates and RxCentric.com send physicians messages via wireless devices and email. A firm called iPhysicianNet provides doctors with free computers, complete with high-speed connections and video conferencing equipment, in exchange for some guaranteed virtual face-time. As noted in the article, iPhysicianNet requires these doctors "to participate in one video-detailing session per month with each of the nine drug makers -- among them Merck and GlaxoSmithKline -- that pay for the service."

It is a bit disillusioning to think that the respected opinions of healthcare professionals may be swayed by some slimy sales dude's pitch and some complimentary Meds-R-Us branded golf tees. Apparently, it's been an integral part of pharmaceutical firms' promotional strategies for years. In the end, it may not be all that bad. Consider this: if the e-detailing thing takes off, maybe drug companies will lessen their consumer-targeted campaigns. That'd be cool with me. The less I have to hear about possible prescription drug side effects like scurvy, spontaneous combustion and involuntary Mountain Dew cravings, the better.

A Death in the Pantry
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Mr. Potato Head Gets Forked
Folks are duped into downing vile fluids such as chum and bile. A fuzzy li'l pooch perishes in a tragic Frisbee accident. Both scenarios are featured in 7UP's recent TV campaign. Both leave a taste in my mouth even worse than the dissatisfying lemon-lime swill itself. Some folks have had quite enough of the shock-to-sell mentality that's begun to permeate the ad world lately, including DDB Worldwide's chairman, Keith Reinhard, who recently has discussed the need for ad industry accountability when it comes to decency.

He's not the only one. Take the "several hundred consumers" who wrote Unilever to complain about a now-pulled Imperial Margarine ad. According to the 4/12 AdNews story, "The spot showed a potato, upset by an empty tub of margarine, jumping off a microwave and impaling itself on a fork while the song, All Out of Love by Air Supply played in the background." Believe it or not, a bunch of humorless, mashed-potato-brained protestors were distressed that the ad made light of suicide. Ya know, somehow I'm surprised that PETA hasn't leaped at the chance to express outrage at the glorification of spudicide.

Despite the fact that the ad was pulled, Unilever seems pretty pleased with the outcome of the tragic tater spot, which was the first to include the company's URL in a TV ad. You see, "almost all of the complaints came to Unilever via its web address."

Overall, the anti-ad outcry seems a bit overcooked to me. First of all, the spot is realistic. Any Air Supply tune is surely enough to induce suicidal tendencies. And second, I beg to differ with the outcry against the trivialization of this hara-forkiri. As far as I'm concerned, the world's better off without anyone, animal or vegetable, who'd cry over a lack of coagulated corn oil. Talk about bad taste.