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 :
Facebook
:
facebook.com/imbrogliosextet
Twitter
:
twitter.com/cpollardtrumpet
Web : carapollard.com
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.
http://www.countrytabs.com/tablature/Willie_Nelson/Sad_Songs_And_Waltzes_Chord_54579/
(April 13, 2015)
(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)
