Tag Archives: advertising

Tuning in to tune out

Original illustration by Robert Pinero.

Original illustration by Robert Pinero.

Commercials for a certain top of the line brand of headphones are my latest pet peeve.  Leave it to some of the most manufactured personas in music to capitalize on escapism by branding their product as its most vital “option” . . . And okay, while that is essentially what all branding is about, it’s always sad when something that used to be not so branded becomes heavily so.  Sad as watching as it happen to a cow’s butt (and I don’t even like cows).   There had to have been a time when sneakers were just sneakers.  Some brands were known for their relative quality, and some weren’t.  But then advertisers linked sneakers to professional athletes and their “god-like” quality of being victorious¸ and then, in the period after that, to fashion.  The wardrobe-matching potential of footwear and anything electronic/portable have obviously been a boon to their respective brands.

So the appeal of headphones is no longer just about music; it’s about music in the context of being surrounded by people, either to drown them out, or so they can notice the status-marker you have that happens to play music.

Lately I’ve had more sympathy for people who keep their heads glued to head- or smart phones in between everything — except for people who do such behind the wheel or while trying to cross the busiest of crosswalks.  If you’re not lucky, society hasn’t made getting to and from anything easy.  There’s less breathing room, less of everything, and the world asks more of you to get that.  (Always worth noting that note less of everything exists because of someone else’s greed.)

I was talking the other day to someone who suggested that, without smart phones, one would be actively trying to avoid making eye contact if you weren’t in a place you felt comfortable.  Some people are oddities wherever they go, and avoiding the awkward social component of that has to be appealing.  One of the reasons we listen to music, in the first place, is because it can make the world feels like it’s not such a mess … except for jazz, which some people maybe like because it’s a “brilliant” mess.  Yeesh, I say.

Anyway, if you’ve got headphones on, maybe you’re tuning in to something that makes the world seem less uphill.  Of course, people are also — and perhaps more frequently — trying to stay in tune with the latest flickering idol of a non-existent attention span, or validate their stupider tendencies.

Now they’ve got headphones perfect for the person who wants the world to be in sync with his or her own usually loud and abrasive soundtrack.  ‘Cause while someone may be disenfranchised from the things that society says really matter, one can loudly play music that suggests he or she is some kind of big wheel.

Ah, headphones, keeping you distracted from life — and depending on the brands you like, another stylish component of the image of the multi-media show that is “life” itself.

Where the living could be easy (?)

Taken from Wikipedia Commons, a scenic travel photo by Adam Baker.

The worlds portrayed visually in pharmaceutical commercials are almost always idyllic:  big, wide open spaces tempered by the reach of long branches with the greenest leaves; a starlit night above the open window of a large home in a valley full of other large homes, with just enough space between them so that they collectively make up a nice view (for the panning shot); a sunny day at a pier where fishing is the natural, picturesque thing to do.  And wouldn’t you know it?  The only thing preventing people from enjoying these surroundings is an ailment or condition that a calm, dull voice relays a possible remedy for, followed by the listing of lots of potential side effects with images of people not experiencing any of them.  By the end of the commercial, they’re enjoying life where it’s beautiful again.

Sometimes it seems like the handful of people in these commercials are the only folks around for miles.  And the people themselves–they’re usually the kind of people associated as a given for idyllic places.  Maybe, every once in a while, there’s an old, black couple whose passing presence in such places probably wouldn’t be too bothersome.

I guess that’s a presiding kind of idyllic, anyway.

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For some interesting history about pharmaceutical advertising (apparently most prominent in the US and New Zealand), see this piece at io9.