Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Sad Songs and Waltzes and Content Marketing

If you did Willie Nelson wrong back in 1973, you could get away with it. He had no pop culture recourse.

The lyrics of "Sad Songs and Waltzes,”(1) which Nelson released that year, lamented his inability to soil the reputation of an unfaithful paramour. Though he had written a scathing musical diatribe about her, the song’s narrator notes : “You've no need to fear it, 'cause no one will hear it. 'Cause sad songs and waltzes aren't selling this year.”(2)

A few years later, the success of “Red-Headed Stranger” invalidated another line from the song : "It's a good thing that I'm not a star.” (3) Nelson’s raised profile meant he had communication channels unavailable to most artists of the day. Now if he wanted to let the world know about your “cold, cold heart” or that "you wouldn't even cross the street to say goodbye,” he could do so far more effectively than most jilted sweethearts of his era.

We mention the above because the equation has changed. The musicians and artists of today have lots of ways to get a message out. A recent project illustrated the point.

Luckily the message was not one of bitter retribution, but instead a story of friendship, generosity, and inspired performance.

The Imbroglio Sextet met in Haiti. Talented musicians donate their time there during summers to teach local children. They instruct students filled with the spirit of music but starved for the tools and guidance to make it.


A gathering of musicians inevitably results in their playing together, no matter the configuration of instruments. And so, somehow, a somewhat non-traditional group emerged that summer made up of a trumpet, clarinet, two violins, a viola, and a cello. Five members hailed from Spain, with a trumpeter from Texas and a conductor from Haiti by way of Los Angeles.

A small tour of Spain and England ensued and planning began for an American sojourn. Modern technology made the cross-continent logistics easier to coordinate than they would have been for a 1970s tour manager.

They wanted to use their music to raise awareness about both their group and the need in Haiti, Would that sort of thing be selling this year?

In the 1970s, one had limited options for promoting music, especially as an artist who not achieved stardom. You needed to get on terrestrial radio stations in different markets, work the daily newspapers or national magazines, and maybe get someone from one of the four networks to film (yes, they would have used actual film in that pre-videotape/digital period) a story on you. A combination of regulation and technological limitations not only limited one’s options, they made those who controlled the outlets into tastemakers. If the executives said sad songs, waltzes, or thrash metal weren’t selling that year, then, by golly, they wouldn’t. You couldn’t content market even if you wanted to, and both adulterers and innovative sextets would remain anonymous.


Record labels and traditional media can still serve as tremendous assets to musicians, but success no longer depends on them.

The Imbroglio Sextet started their content marketing push with social media. Their group loved to take photos, and modern technology made sharing the images from their previous confabs simple. They also had compelling backgrounds as high-level musicians. The combination made for great starting places on the likes of Facebook and Google+.

Video no longer requires massive television infrastructure. They commissioned a video for what became a successful online crowdfunding campaign. Would crowdfunding in the 1970s would have consisted of going door-to-door? And would you have contributed if Willie had rung your doorbell in 1973 and asked for some cash for his tour?

The group used video to add to the show’s live experience, too, commissioning a film (not created on actual film) to play along with the performance of one of their signature works. The producer sourced public domain silent film footage online and wrote modern intertitles. Besides a couple lines about Twitter, he could have written the jokes in 1973 (other than the fact that he was 5 years old then). Sourcing the films would have required a nationwide search for preserved reels. Thanks to the internet, people from around the world helped him without even knowing they had.


The effort didn’t ignore traditional media, either.  Press release distribution via email brought attention from actual print publications. Those traditional outlets repurposed their content for online use, extending the potential reach of such coverage far beyond what its 1970s equivalent would have provided.



Imbroglio Sextet trumpet player Cara Pollard worked exceptionally hard to make it all happen. Cara joked that after the tour ended, she wouldn’t look at Facebook for a month (she swiftly reneged on that vow). Industriousness is an asset in any era, but no matter how many 1973 hours one put in, the tools simply didn’t exist to maximize the return on them. The potential rewards from 2015 hours mean more great music available for listeners and more success for musicians (as well any other business that effectively employs modern content marketing). It also means greater potential consequences for doing Willie wrong, so watch yourself.

Imbroglio Sextet information :



Rush Olson has spent two decades directing creative efforts for entertainment and sports entities. He currently creates ad campaigns and related creative projects through his companies, Rush Olson Creative & Sports and FourNine Productions.

RushOlson.com



Footnotes
  

(1) twizzle05 “Willie Nelson - Sad Songs And Waltzes (Chord),” countrytabs.com.

(2) IBID.


(3) Calvin Gilbert “Bro Country Is Still Selling This Year,” CMT. http://www.cmt.com/news/1745866/bro-country-is-still-selling-this-year/ (accessed April 3, 2015)