|
|
By Robert Cherry
In the public imagination, rock stars have much in common with newborn babies: they sleep erratically, cry when demands aren’t met, vomit on a regular basis, urinate where- and whenever they please, and obsess over a certain part of the female anatomy. At least that’s
the stereotype. And one doubtlessly well-earned by everyone from Keith Richards to Sid Vicious to Courtney Love.
But if you dig deeper, there’s much to be learned from those in the music world—especially when it comes to branding. Each rock superstar is in him- or herself a successful brand and often a pioneer in marketing as well as music. To mean so much to so many people, a rock star
must distill his or her essence to a single idea—one benefit to the emotional, spiritual and/or intellectual lives of listeners. To some, it comes naturally. Others—especially today, it seems—must work at packaging what makes them special and communicating it in an authentic
fashion.
Many non-musical brands stumble on this last piece, which is one of the reasons so many companies covet what rock stars represent—aside from the total fulfillment of a raging id—and shell out massive bucks for the reflected light of a Slash or a John Mellencamp or a U2, to name
just a few of the more recent endorsers for products such as Volkswagen, Chevrolet and Apple, respectively.
But instead of co-opting a rock star’s music, likeness and legend to instill excitement in brands, marketers could stand to take inspiration from the stars themselves and apply it to their own work. The potential? Rock star brands.
Wave Your Freak Flag High
Successful brands are remarkable. Literally. They have a look, a story, a something other that compels consumers to talk about them. Usually that requires a little make-over to help focus what’s unique about the brand and capture the public’s
imagination.
| Before Jimi Hendrix was Jimi Hendrix, for example, he was James Marshall Hendrix, a.k.a. Jimmy James, a talented sideman for acts such as Little Richard, unremarkable save for complaints about his overly flashy guitar style. What he needed was a little branding work. Fortunately he was discovered jamming in a Manhattan club by a manager with vision, Chas Chandler. |
|
 |
Chandler, a former member of the Animals, invited Hendrix to Swinging London and encouraged him to—as Jimi would later put it in song (“If 6 Was 9”)—wave his freak flag high.
Once in England, Jimi flourished in his new context. He adopted the memorable spelling of his first name and switched back to his original surname. He grew his hair into a Dylan-esque ‘fro, cultivated a psychedelic gypsy look from thrift-store finds, including his signature British
military jacket. He embraced his unconventional singing voice a la Dylan and turned what was a originally a weakness as a sideman—excessive stage volume—into an innovative new guitar style.
Within days of his arrival, he was the talk of the London music scene, forcing other guitar heroes like The Who’s Pete Townshend and Cream’s Eric Clapton to question their approach to the instrument. Townshend, for one, largely stopped soloing for a time. Hendrix, however,
remained humble about his ability and trained a spotlight on the potential of personal expression.
"I wouldn't say I'm the greatest guitarist ever,” he said. “I'd say probably I'm the greatest guitarist sitting in this chair."
Today, Hendrix retains his standing as not only a guitar god but also a truly free spirit. Almost four decades after his death, he remains a successful brand, still shifting repackaged albums, gracing magazine covers, and lending his name to consumer products (most recently a soft drink called Liquid
Experience).
In a quote anticipating his death (a favorite theme of his songs, as well) he hoped his music would inspire others to wave their own freak flags—discover and embrace what’s unique about themselves. “When I die, I want people to play my music—go wild and freak out and do anything they
want to do.”
Turn And Face The Strain… Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
To remain on top, successful brands must entertain today’s ever-fickle consumers with, as David Bowie might sing it, ch-ch-ch-changes… innovation after innovation, soft and hard. Bowie, for one, is a great example of a rock superstar who
made constant reinvention part of his core equity, prefiguring today’s rapid-fire culture and winning a rabid following in the process, not to mention influencing countless musicians.
| Given license by naturally restless artists such as Bob Dylan and The Velvet Underground, a young Bowie embraced a new musical direction and theatrical look with virtually every album. On 1972’s The Rise
And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars, Bowie introduced his most enduring character—a gender-bending Martian turned messianic rock star, ultimately doomed by self-indulgence in the shadow of an impending apocalypse. |
|
 |
Common marketing sense would suggest he repeat the formula ad infinitum, but treading water always bored the singer and change became a compulsion. Once Ziggy had catapulted him to fame, the singer ceremoniously quit the business at tour’s end, announcing from the stage that it was
the “last show we’ll ever do,” much to the surprise of his band, much less his audience.
News headlines successfully captured, he returned to the stage soon after as Aladdin Sane, then a space pirate, then just as suddenly transformed himself into a “plastic soul” man, scoring one of his biggest hits with “Fame,” a collaboration with John Lennon.
“I've always been a great fan of diversification,” Bowie told “Musician” magazine in 1983. “At one period I had the whole lot going: I was a Buddhist mime songwriter and part-time sax player, or it became like that. My whole life is made up of experimentation,
curiosity and anything that seemed at all appealing.”
Today, the so-called rock chameleon remains one of rock’s savviest and wealthiest businessmen, exploring new musical genres, embracing cutting-edge technology to create and promote his work, and always exploring smarter ways to do business (including selling Bowie Bonds, asset-backed
shares based on projected sales of his back catalog).
“I've found that every time I've made a radical change it's helped me feel buoyant as an artist,” he once noted.
Shoot To Thrill
Innovation is essential to maintaining a romance with consumers, but it has to be innovation that resonates with the brand or there’s a danger of degrading the brand’s equity. Exploring wildly diverse styles can work for mavericks such as Bowie, because that’s a part of
his identity—it’s expected of him and he understands that dynamic. For marketers, it’s wise to understand what a brand truly means to consumers and remain faithful to that concept.
To that end, it’s helpful to envision consumers as the ultimate heavy-metal audience—a vast sea of uniformly attired hair-farmers, possibly wasted on Jagermeister, who will take you to task for even the slightest concession to popular trends or exploring anything not
metal.
| AC/DC are an excellent example of a band that have never degraded their equity, becoming a heritage brand in the process. Since the early ‘70s the Australian quintet have turned out
album after album of nuts-and-bolts blues-based hard rock with no acknowledgement of trends. They still sing exclusively about three themes: sex, death and rock ‘n’ roll. And lead guitarist Angus Young still performs in the same school uniform he first donned as a gimmick
while playing pubs in his teens (he turns 52 next month). |
|
 |
The only significant change to the group’s sound occurred when vocalist Bon Scott took a terminal nap in the back of a car following a particularly heavy drinking session. He was subsequently replaced by British belter Brian Johnson and the band went on to record “Back In Black,” a
tribute to Scott and, in keeping with their equity, hedonism in general.
On that album, released in 1980, the band and producer Robert John “Mutt” Lange (the future Mr. Shania Twain) honed the formula to an even greater degree. The result? The second best-selling album of all time and the best selling album by a band. Today, AC/DC continue to grow
their rabid fan base and still regularly sell out arenas whenever they tour. They are the ultimate heritage brand, a staple passed down from generation to generation, and one that closely guards its core equity.
“We still play hard rock,” Young recently told Gibson.com, the corporate site for Gibson, the company that builds his signature SG guitar. “That’s what we started with and we still play it now. We just try to find new ways of presenting it, and for us, that’s always
a challenge—to come up with a new idea, turn it into AC/DC and still retain that style.”
Robert Cherry is Senior Writer at Seed Strategy. As a freelance journalist he has contributed to “Rolling Stone,” “Guitar One” and Cleveland’s “The Plain Dealer.” Contact him at rcherry@seedstrategy.com.
|
