I have this thing about those Tide stain pens. I see them on the TV and think nothing of it, but then I’ll inevitably be in a Duane Reade later that week, a line of them will be hanging by the paper towels, and I’ll think, “Yes! That is exactly what I need.” Then I’ll use it maybe once, lose it, and start the cycle anew the next month.
My point is that I don’t hop on the interweb while the commercial is on and order one right then. I have to see it on TV, probably see it in a print ad, maybe see someone using one in real life, and then see the physical product in the store, at which point the $3.99 is spent. This is one reason I don’t think traditional advertising for physical classical CDs works anymore. You may see a television or print ad, and you may even think the CD looks interesting, but if you never see that album in the proverbial flesh you probably won’t buy it. And you’re not going to see it in the flesh/(plastic), because there Are No Record Stores Left and The Book Sellers Don’t Care.
Last Friday, I went down to South Street Seaport to see the cute and good Norwegian band Casiokids. Because the performance was in a touristy area, because it was a Friday night, and because the concert was outdoors, a lot of people stopped to listen who had probably never heard of Casiokids. Perhaps they were in the neighborhood enjoying the culinary delights of the Pizzeria Uno,
…or perhaps they were chillin’ on the parked pirate ship.
Either way, they were not there for The Norwegians, but many, I’m sure, were pleased to encounter a new band.
Unfortunately, if they missed the band’s verbal introduction, they had no way of knowing who the musicians were. There were no signs, no banners – nothing that said “Casiokids” from the band or from River to River, the presenting organization. This led me to think back on the outdoor concerts I’ve seen this summer and saw last summer. The SummerStage concerts in Central Park are well advertised, but there’s no signage around the park, where you can certainly hear the concerts, about whose music you’re hearing. Maybe you won’t go into the bandshell area, but if you passively hear or see something you like, it would be great to know what it is.
The only time I’ve seen a band with a sign was at All Points West last year, when the band CSS brought their own. Even walking around that same festival this year, I didn’t know what bands were playing unless I looked at the schedule and locations on my phone. The CSS sign from last year was also their logo, and it’s very clearly still in my mind today.
My point about the Tide stain pens and Casiokids is that we sometimes encounter things we like in the physical world. In music, however, we’re often prepared by advertisements to encounter physical things (like CDs) and we never do, or we encounter the physical (outdoor concerts) and are never told what we’re encountering. The Tide pen wins, then, because it both prepares us and we encounter it in our natural lives.
Update, 11:45pm: As irony would have it, I did see fairly good signage at the Yeasayer concert tonight. Granted, I only saw one sign, but I least it was in full view of street traffic, clearly directed people to the concert on the pier, and told passersby what they were hearing. My friend and I wanted to check out The Highline at night, so we left before the encores. You could still hear the concert from The Highline, so it is too bad there weren’t signs there. But again, the presenter – River Rocks – certainly gets more credit than All Points West, SummerStage or River to River.
Kathryn says
Well said.
Cee says
So does the Tide pen actually work?
I’m glad you asked. It does work, quite well in fact, but the reason I’m a sucker for the advertising and literal product placement in the Duane Reade is that I rarely actually use it, and yet I think I need it when I see it. For those of you playing at home, the Tide pen works better than the OxiClean “spray-a-way” spritzer thing, which kind of bleaches the area around the stain. That I’ve not seen a commercial or an ad for, but it called to me in the Duane Reade, like so many useless tiny things before it. -AA