As painful as it is, I’m contemplating an issue I never thought I would.
Can bad advertising (or “badvertising” as we coined it back in college) be a good strategy? After all, if people are talking about the brand, if a bad jingle is memorable, if I’m including a link to one of the worst ads in recent memory in this blog, does it ultimately prove that badvertising works?
The spot drawing my ire is actually one the company brought back. Subway's Five... Five Dollar Footlong, which almost caused me to contemplate pulling a Van Gogh two years ago, is back. Much to my dismay.
The spots are horrible. There's damn little creativity involved. Just a jingle which sticks with the unsuspecting victim. The spots are in heavy rotation during the baseball playoffs, as part of Subway's Anytober Promotion.
I can't wait for Halloween. And I hate Halloween.
The first commercial that sparked the badvertising debate played repeatedly during early round NCAA tournament games. It was overdone. It was poorly acted. Though the song was terrible, it was infectious.
Kinda like the plague, but without all the death.
If you haven’t figured out which spot it is, you don’t watch much basketball. If you do, I don’t know how you missed it.
During our discussion, not one person said they liked it. In fact, the level of hatred spewed by everyone involved in the conversation led me to believe it was money badly spent. A quick cruise around Twitter proved it.
I mean, someone had to green-light the spot without thinking, “This is the best spot that we could produce.” Someone had to go out of their way to produce a memorably bad spot. That had to be the goal. It had to be strategy. Right?
I think no one would purposefully produce a horrible commercial, with a more horrible jingle. (I certainly wouldn’t.) It just isn’t effective. Or so I thought until a few admitted to having the song stuck in their heads.
Which leads to my conundrum: If you remember the jingle, and more importantly, the brand, does that mean the ad is effective?
I don’t think so. But I think that’s the risk when your goal is to create badvertising: losing customers. I didn't eat Pringles for years because of their ads. The question remains: Will someone avoid a brand simply because the commercials are bad?
I wrote much of this for a former employer to illustrate the evils of cookie cutter advertising. The director was focused almost entirely on SEO, and thought it cured all ills; I felt it necessary to try to convince him otherwise. It didn't have the desired affect. And I'm no longer with the company. So I decided to revisit the post in my own blog.
I recently left a company that had a marketing director who argued that creativity was unnecessary in advertising. The right SEO, correct placement, functionality - that's all that's required to be effective. He also tried to sell our services only through the website. In more than a year, he never landed a new client.
My response was a blog post I wrote in hopes that he would see what creativity does for advertising. I’ve been thinking about why a creative mind is required to work in the industry. Like many in the industry, the recent passing of Steve Jobs has reminded me how doing something amazing stops people in their tracks. And unless you've been under a rock, you know I'm speaking of the 1984 spot, as well as the "Think Different" and "I'm a Mac" campaigns.
_ _ _
I googled (hard to believe that’s a verb now) “Is creativity necessary in advertising” and a post appeared for an advertising and marketing firm. Investigating further, I found that I happened upon, in my opinion, a very bad website. Really, really unremarkable in every way. Graphically unpleasing. Horrible writing. Difficult navigation.
In short, it went against everything the post said about creativity, which was not a surprise because what the author wrote was not very good.
Ovilvy preferred the term "The Big Idea" to "creative," but we know what he meant.
So this is what an advertising firm thinks about creativity in
advertising. That thumping I heard was David Ogilvy rolling in his
grave.
Sometimes, I imagine myself in conversations with him, as he is
arguably the guru who married creativity and advertising.Anyway, back to the post I read. In short, it ticked me off because even an advertising company doesn’t really know the role of creativity in advertising, how are we supposed to convince a client that we are necessary to the success of their business? The very fact that they will post more about what it is, rather than what it is not, is unfortunate.
What follows are the post’s statements about the necessity of creativity in advertising in italics, and my reaction immediately follows. 1. It is a pillar to build the marketing mix – personal selling, sales promotion, direct marketing, public relations and sponsorship.
Not really. What I meant to say is not EVEN CLOSE really. Creativity NEVER was discussed in any of the marketing classes during my pursuit of two degrees in advertising. And fully half of those universities were well-respected institutions of higher learning.
2. It differentiates the ‘me too’ products by influencing attitudes and feelings to position the brand in preference above a competitors brand.
Bing. They got that one right. 3. It provides knowledge thereby stimulates thinking.
Not really. Most of the ads out there advertise ubiquitous products. Truly unique products, by the time they advertise, are common. Dyson really differentiates its vacuum cleaners, in style, in performance and (gulp!) price point. But at the end of the day, it’s a vacuum cleaner that costs about what a desktop computer costs. But upon seeing a Dyson commercial, I’ve never gone into vapor lock thinking about anything, much less the dirt, dust and dog dander on my living room rug. 4. It can persuade, be relevant and meaningful.
Yes, maybe and not bloody likely. (I always imagine that Ogilvy said “bloody” a lot.)
Some ads are socially relevant. Most, though, aren't.
They can persuade, but in a small way. There are things more important than creativity in the ad. “I’ve got an ant problem. Does this stuff get rid of them or does it kill bugs dead?” Relevant… I’m not so sure. Ads aren’t really meaningful unless they are for products that are meaningful, and while I appreciate nasal comfort as much as the next person, being Claritin clear isn’t really going to help feed the hungry or cure cancer. And I don’t see ads for meaningful brands very often during prime time. Is laundry detergent meaningful? What about snack chips… No? Don’t make me break out this spot. 5. It facilitates purchase and trial.
Close, but I’m going to say advertising doesn’t facilitate purchase. If the consumer isn’t interested in the brand, the best, most creative ad in the world isn’t going to convince him to buy. It can generate interest in a brand. Whether the consumer purchases the brand of paper towel I’m writing copy for is up to them, and can be contingent upon a variety of factors, not the least of which is whether the store brand is a buck cheaper or is conveniently placed on an endcap display. 6. It creates loyal customers.
Couldn’t be more wrong. That’s like saying that calamine lotion creates mosquitoes. Brand loyalty is created by giving the customer what they want or need (big difference, but that’s a different post) at a price they are willing to pay, even though other brands may come close in quality for less money.
I’m a loyal Rawlings user. Wouldn’t dream of using anything else. Was it because the ad slogan “The Finest in the Field” is printed on every glove? No. It’s because my Dad bought me a catcher’s mitt when I was 10. It fit and was easy to break in. I loved using the glove and bought a fielder’s glove the next year. Then I bought an outfield model in high school and a softball model 12 years ago. When it came time to buy my boys gloves for Christmas, what did they get? You bet.
A quality product, added value through customer service, these days, an informative website… those are the ingredients to create a positive consumer experience, and with it, brand loyalty. I was talking with another copywriter about the unrealistic expectations placed on advertising. He said, “No matter how funny the Burger King work is, it cannot make up for dirty stores. How is that advertising’s fault?” And he’s correct. 7. It transforms boring ads to interesting ads.
This is kind of like saying “Paint makes wood colorful.” But I will put this one in the plus column anyway. A flashy graphic isn’t going to transform a bad ad into an interesting ad, as much as good copy isn’t going to make a bad graphic successful. But finally, they got another one right, I think, because I think I know what they were going for.
I try to write an interesting ad even when a boring one will do. But it leads to another question: Are creative ads more interesting? Of course they are, to me, Ogilvy and the general public. But it’s the way in which they’re interesting that is important. A bunch of young people walking on a hilltop isn’t particularly interesting. Drinking a Coke isn’t particularly interesting. Folksy 70s songs aren’t particularly interesting. But Bill Backer combined all three and wrote a commercial that became one of the most successful ads of all time. I always got a kick out of The Story of the Coke Hilltop Ad and Backer later wrote a very good book about the advertising industry called “The Care and Feeding of Ideas.”
8. Creative ads achieve objectives.
Talk about vague. With apologies to #6, I guess they could be more wrong. This is the most ludicrous statement of the post. What objectives? Again, there is too much in the environment that affects whether or not a person will visit your restaurant.
So, what is the conclusion I’ve reached? Is one, maybe two, out of eight reasons for creativity enough for me to say conclusively that advertising requires creativity?
Abso-freaking-lutely.
Why? We write creative ads because David Ogilvy and Bill Bernbach took what Claude Hopkins did and took it to the next level, completely changing the ad world forever. By marrying the sales pitch with the creative, advertising has done wonders for mediocre products, and made absolute necessities out of great ones.
For the past 50 years, creative people have been competing against each other to do it better. Often they try to do it without a sales proposition in mind, which is unfortunate because advertising is a function of the sales department. It is not art, although it employs some of the same characteristics. Artists create because they can’t imagine not creating. Advertising creates because it helps the bottom line and in return, pays the bills. It gives the consumer an initially high opinion and gives him reason to be interested in the product. Creative advertising can spark debate about whose shoe is best or which computer to use.
But mostly, I think creativity is necessary in advertising because I can’t imagine ads that didn’t try to be creative. Plus, thousands of graphic designers, directors, artists, photographers, web developers, actors and copywriters would be out of work. So for the sake of my own career, I can safely say that one, maybe two, out of eight is enough.
Just like matters of the heart in literature and movies, in the advertising world, there is a conflict of interest between love and money.
The problem is that it’s our love, but it’s the client’s money.
We love doing anything “creative.” We love a pretty ad, great typography, a clever turn of phrase, cool visual effects in a commercial, and the challenge of doing something no one has ever done.
The client wants to do something that makes the cash register open and close. He doesn’t care at all about winning an Addy, mentions in AdWeek or getting something for his book. It’s an investment in his business. He’s concerned with the bottom line. He is trying to put food on the table, keep the lights on, and product moving out the door.
So who wins? No one, like The Great Gatsby? Everyone, like Pretty in Pink? (Yes, I just made that analogy.) Great creative sells. That’s what we tell clients. But the truth of the matter is, uncreative ads sell, too. Often not as well… sometimes better. But you’ll never hear us admitting as much to a client. After all, we’re in the creativity business. That’s what we tell ourselves, right?.
The truth is, we’re in the business of advocating for our client. We find the best way to get the client’s message to their consumer. Awards are nice, but they don’t pay the bills. We are in business to sell. And if we get to do something creative and great, so much the better. Is creativity a sign of great advertising? No, not really. It’s a sign that the copywriter and designer were thinking, but it doesn’t guarantee success. For one thing, the target audience has to “get it.” If they don’t, it’s a failure. There have been many debates about the necessity of creativity in advertising. But what does it do, really?
It differentiates the product from the competition.
It positions the product in the mind of the consumer.
It helps the customer’s memory.
It helps to build the brand.
The opportunity to be creative and the need for ROI, for some reason, don’t always cross paths. But we’re the matchmakers. We’re the ones who help creative and ROI get together because we know they will be great together. I’m just glad I’m in the room when they meet, because I’ve got a good feeling about those two crazy kids...
…
I love when advertising takes risks. Fiat didn't take a risk, not creatively, anyway.
It did, however, really stretch the truth in the "Drive In" spot that I've seen... and seen... and seen... and seen today during the Kansas City Chiefs game.
It's been shown so many times I'm expecting to see "This NFL game is brought to you commercial free by the Fiat 500."
I know it's not uncommon for a commercial to stretch the truth a little. Hell, it's not uncommon for a commercial to fib. But this one is, as my Grandma says, "a corker."
Art direction wise, it's a black and white spot with the 500 in color. Yeah, we've never seen that before. The spot says "something comes along so powerful and constant..."
No kidding? I thought the car looked winded driving on the concrete of the drive-in. By the way, I've never seen a concrete-covered drive-in. Gravel, yes. Flat concrete? No way. And every one of them has those bumps where the car parks. The 500 doesn't look like it could make it up the bump without getting high-centered.
The spot continues with "...so revolutionary in design..."
Really? It looks like the bastard love child of a Smart Car and a Cooper Mini. Not exactly "revolutionary." The rims are about as revolutionary as it gets.
The spot gushes further "... it defines a generation. It becomes a cultural icon."
If this roller skate becomes a cultural icon, I'll eat my hat. This spot is designed to market "the arrival of an icon" to the American consumer. We hold iconic cars in high regard. And they usually differentiate the cars with innovation, unique design or power. Think 1957 Chevy, 1965 Mustang, or the 1970 Pontiac GTO.
In the spot, the generation that this thing is supposed to define rolls into the drive-in, then immediately leaves the car. Does that happen at a drive-in? No.
This car is anything but iconic and the spot is anything but creative. Both the car and the ad have very high opinions of themselves. Both take themselves WAAAAAY too seriously.
I understand the need for humor in advertising. It entertains. It helps the audience remember the ad. It may differentiate your ad from the clutter.
The are a few things to which I have aversions. One is midgets. I don't know why. It's kinda like a phobia, I guess. The second is badvertising, a term we coined back in college.
You may not have seen the Title Max spots unless you stay up late to watch Poker After Dark. I record and watch it while the kids and wife are still asleep.
I've seen two ads for the lending franchise starring Verne Troyer. He played "Mini Me" aaaand... not much else. I realize he did have a role in one of the Harry Potter flicks, but it was a while back and at the risk of using a pun, it wasn't a big part.
I understand he's just doing this for the gig, because squeaking "I got my title back with Title Max" isn't exactly stretching the old creative legs. Obviously he got tired of waiting around for Mike Meyers to get his shit together and write the fifth installment of the Powers trilogy.
The most egregiously bad part of the spots, besides the tag, I mean, is the premise. The spot shows our hero struggling with the obvious physical limitations of being his size. In one, he's shown struggling with the fact that he can't reach the buttons on the ATM. In the other, he's in a tree and reaching out on the very farthest limb for the money that obviously grows on trees in the Title Max world.
In both, the voice over asks Verne the same stupid question, "Short on cash?"
I'd really like to know what advertising genius who pitched this. He needs to be verbally smacked upside the head. I'm not being sexist when I say "he." No female copywriter would come up with something this lame.
Advertising has taken a page out of the real estate handbook. Remember the adage, "What are the three most important things to consider in real estate?"
Location. Location. Location.
Zara Damney and Shauna Mullin, sand volleyball players from Britain, are leasing out space for QR Code advertising and are placing it where most eyes will be during play.
For those of you who don't know your ass from a QR Code, it's a square graphic that's kind of like a bar code. With a certain app and a smart phone, the QR code can deliver a text message, or will directly connect to a website URL. (In this case, the sponsor is a gambling website.)
The question is: How will this effect traffic to the website?
I'm not sure that it will, but I must admit, I'm fascinated by the novelty of this. I think it may be more of a promotion for QR code usage than for the website who is renting space on Damney and Mullin.
I like the idea, in theory, of using this kind of outside the box creativity in advertising. My point is this: It's going to be difficult at best to get a picture of the QR code. Spectators will be too far away for most cell phones to get a good pic. Not to mention the fact that they'll be in motion most of the time.
For argument's sake, let's say that in order to get close enough to get a good snap of the QR code, a fan waits till play is over to photograph the players backsides.
I've been guilty of this too. In school while working on creative. Pushing the creative envelope to make an impression.
That's all well and good. When you're trying to get a job in the advertising industry and you have to impress a creative director. But Summer's Eve, and more specifically, its agency, The Richards Group, is well beyond trying to impress anyone. They're in the business of selling product, not creating a conversation about racial stereotypes or questioning the validity of using hand puppets to simulate talking vaginas. Which is all they've done with their "Hail to the V" campaign.
The brand is taking a beating. Industry folk are talking about the campaign. Most of it centers around the question, "Is it true any publicity is good publicity?" This Adweek piece panned the spot, despite the fact that it pushed the envelope.
Ask Crispin Porter + Bogusky, who was responsible for the Groupon Super Bowl ads.
It hurt the brand. It was creative, yes. No denying that. But the decision to go-ahead, even with the benefit of hindsight, was so ill-advised. In short, this was amateur hour.
I just got back from vacation. Well, not so much "vacation" as "long weekend" spent with my family at the lake.
Over my career, I have developed a theory about vacation.
For every three days you take off, you spend one day playing catch-up.
Here's an addendum:
If someone else tries to do your job, that 3:1 ratio plummets to 1:1.
The last project I finished before leaving on Wednesday is the initial email for a campaign for a client. It was concise - just five sentences with clear call to action. When I left on Wednesday, the project had been put to bed.
Late Wednesday afternoon, someone from IT had "taken a crack at writing the email." By Thursday afternoon, it was approved by directors, marketing, managers and executives and they had all congratulated each other on the new copy in an email thread I on which I was included.
Monday morning, I had to put an end to this congratulatory circle-jerk before they got their neckties tangled and someone's ass in a sling. (Probably mine.)
The problem is that it is now a full page long and full of run-on sentences, usage errors, two discernible yet ambiguous calls to action, and a condescending tone. Wait... that's not the worst of it.
It also had the wrong website address and company name.
Using what little diplomacy I could muster, I fired out an email asking to hold off until I could "tweak" it. It took two hours to get approval for the delay and then to edit. I was tempted to send it out with corrections noted on the document so they could see just how screwed up it really was.
Instead, I took the high road and knocked it out. And the IT guy who started this whole clusterfuck gave my edited version his stamp of approval with "This should do."
Gee, thanks. I just saved your ass and I get "This should do." To top it off, now the manager who put his OK on Mr. IT's version sends me a follow-up saying, "I have some input. Stay tuned."
My question is "Where was your input when the IT guy took his shot at writing it?" That was one day ago. Still no word from him. I've lost an entire day waiting for his two cents on a project that was done last week.
(I wonder what David Thorne would do, although I would never get away with it because I don't have his charming Aussie accent.)
I'm accustomed to playing catch up after taking time off, but this is ridiculous. I'm beginning to think vacations just aren't worth the extra effort.
We walk into the New York Times Store and see that a transaction is taking place. We hear a typical conversation between a patron and a store clerk.
"I'll take the Times, coffee, a box of Junior Mints and a souvenir Times mug. Wait... you still have the Declaration of Independence? Throw that in, too."
And then, the words retailers hate to hear.
"Oh, wait... I have a coupon."
The New York Times Store is selling an original 1776 broadsheet of the Declaration of Independence. For $1.6 million.
The store is also running a coupon for 10% off on retailmenot.com. It's not good on books, crossword books or gift certificates. But it doesn't say anything about the exclusion of nearly priceless artifacts of Americana.
Usually, I boycott coupons, simply because I'm in the advertising business, and I think coupons do not do a very good job of building brands. But how often can you save $160,000 with one coupon and own a piece of American history?
As a copywriter, I’ve always been interested in great advertising, but lately, I’ve become interested in how writers write. Depending upon who you talk to, there are somewhere between two and 158 theories about procedures to follow when writing copy. Fully half of those are hair-brained theories, so I’ll eliminate them. This is the first in a 79-part series.*
Like many, my preference is to be a social copywriter. I like noise and activity and bouncing ideas off co-workers. I’ve done my best work shooting pool and drinking beer. I’ve also collaborated on some campaigns while playing ping-pong and/or pool and drinking beer. I’ve had some great ideas at ballgames, in the car, and while getting our asses kicked in a company softball game.
The free-association model has served me well over the years, but just to make sure I’m not missing out on something, I’m going to give the other process with which I’m familiar its long overdue shot.
The other school of thought is to think clearly and stay focused on the matter at hand; to think about the benefits; keep in mind the parameters outlined in the creative brief; close yourself up in a sterile environment and knock out the copy.
That all sounds good on paper. I’ve got a print assignment for a company that makes spices and rubs. Let’s give this “focus on the task at hand” thing a lash.
Copywriting by the numbers
The client has provided a creative brief. (It’s here somewhere.) They’ve got a new product for a BBQ rub, and they want to move the product during peak outdoor grilling season. They want to appeal to the casual guy, one who doesn’t want to take the time to develop his own rub. The target market is the guy who is more interested in spending time with family and friends than winning BBQ competitions. So…
Summer is time for BBQ. BBQ means summer. Make your BBQ come alive. Make your summer come alive. Summer’s just around the corner. My son is asking me about where we’re going on summer vacation. We went to Mount Rushmore last year. Quite a trip. Good times.
When I was 11 or 12, we went to Silver Dollar City, but on the way, my Mom was freaking out because she thought my Dad was driving too fast up the narrow Ozark roads and she was so upset by the time we got there, she didn't want to do anything till after we had lunch. We stopped at a restaurant that didn't have the type of soda she liked, so she told the waitress, "I'll have iced tea" which sounds kinda good. I’m going upstairs for some tea. The lemon Crystal Light tea mix isn’t bad, much less dangerous than when we were on that vacation and my Mom squeezed the lemon and I caught a little spray in the eye which burned quite a bit.
(Five minutes to make tea. Ten minutes to look outside to see if it’s raining.)
After that lunch, we went to ride the log jam and see the shows and my parents bought us these old-fashioned candy sticks in a bunch of different flavors (root beer was my favorite.) I think I really liked that place because there was a lady there dressed as a saloon girl. Still have a picture of the two of us somewhere.
(Spent a half-hour looking through old pictures. No luck, but found a bunch from our trip to Oregon the following year.)
My Mom has so many snapshots from that trip; of Oregon, California, the Grand Canyon, and Rocky Mountains… and as I'm remembering some of them, I understand why Kodak ads were SOOOO effective. They didn't sell film, they sold memories. Which is similar to the advice a guy gave me when I opened a bar & grill 10 years ago: "Don't sell the steak. Sell the sizzle!"
The Spaghetti Factory in my home town did that when they would have the servers walk around the restaurant for 15 minutes before they opened with sizzling pans of onions and roasted garlic and the smell just made your mouth water for pasta when you walked in. They always had Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin playing. One of them sang “I’m Beginning to See the Light” on the ‘Swingers’ soundtrack. I’ll just look it up real quick on IMDB.
It was Bobby Darin. Dean did “You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You,” but Frank didn’t have any tunes on the soundtrack. Really weird. Tony Bennett was, though with his version of “With Plenty of Money and You.”
IMDB is a fantastic site, by the way. You wanna know about soundtracks? IMDB can help you out. You wanna know how many movies Dean and Jerry Lewis did together? IMDB can tell you.
(Spent 10 minutes reading through the Jerry Lewis bio on IMDB. Did you know he never wears socks more than once?)
It’s a real shame Martin & Lewis broke up because they were so successful for a long time… and they had a milkshake named after them in ‘Pulp Fiction,’ which was one of only two options - the other being Amos & Andy - so one was vanilla and one was chocolate, but why would you order plain vanilla when there are so many great shake flavors?
Variety is the spice of life, after all.
So… back to the spice ad. The holes in the lid are slightly bigger than normal, but not as big as some. They’re not so big that the rub dumps out too quickly, but not so small that it clumps up and closes off. It’s a small, almost imperceptible feature that makes it easier to use the container as a shaker. It’s great.
“Great Shakes.”
DING DING DING DING!!! And there we have it. Nice big visual. Copy that writes itself about how the feature will benefit Joe CasualGriller. Done deal. I need to do a few more to present, but we'll call that a concept worth throwing out there.
OK… so the by the numbers approach doesn’t really work for me. Old habits die hard. I’d much rather continue to write the way I always have. Somehow the thought of cramming myself into an office is rather claustrophobic. I’m afraid the writing would be sterile.
The point is that I get inspiration from everywhere and everyone. I think a lot of copywriters do. There are times when I am in my own world when I write, but that’s usually in the nuts and bolts phase of writing the copy; not in the big picture, idea generation stage. That’s when I like access to consumers… and they’re everywhere. Want a kick in the pants? Go where the product is sold and talk to the people who are buying it. Better yet, listen to them talk about it. You’d be surprised what you learn that’s not on the creative brief the client provided.
*Kidding. I'm familiar with two. I use one extensively.
I don't normally advocate using an f-bomb in an ad, but in this case, I'll make an exception.
When you go to a movie, don't be surprised if you get kicked out for texting. If you call to voice your displeasure at being kicked out, don't be surprised if your ire is met with little sympathy. If it happens to be at the Alamo Drafthouse, don't be surprised if your message ends up on the pre-movie PSAs. And the Drafthouse website. And a marketing website. Oh, and YouTube.
So what does a profanity-laced tirade from an irate customer say about Alamo Drafthouse's branding? Tons.
First of all, the theater is unapologetic about what a movie-goer will see at its theater. It appeals to the audience they expect to draw to its lineup of indie flicks.
More importantly, the viral PSA lets the customer know that Alamo Drafthouse values the user experience. It's a small house, and one idiot using a cell phone during a movie can wreck it for practically everyone in the theater. From a branding perspective, you can't do better than to show the customer you appreciate the business and that you will go to great lengths to make sure that customer gets his money's worth.
Does the PSA go overboard? I don't think so. Does it make an impact? You bet it does. With the customer and potential talkers and texters who wander into the Alamo.
Kudos for taking the customer experience seriously.
The simple phrase, "How did you come up with that?" said in two different ways, can mean two completely different things. It's all a matter of inflection. If you hear a client say: "HOW DID you come up with that?"
it means: "It's GOLD! I love it and I can't wait to run the ad!"
But if you hear him say: "How did you come up WITH THAT?"
it means: "It's CRAP! I hate it. Get the hell out of my office until you learn how to write a damn ad!"
What you should hear is: "I don't think this is your best work. Why don’t you have another go and we’ll meet tomorrow."
Your reply should be: "I respect your point of view. I'll take another shot at it and I'll have some more ideas first thing in the morning."
But what you really mean is: "YOU wouldn't know a GOOD AD if it slid up your leg and grabbed you by the BALLS!"
Setting: A London Pub in the punk rock riddled days of the early to mid-1980s. We enter in the middle of a conversation...
"... oboe, cello, keyboard and kettle drums. We'll have ourselves a smash hit!"
For some reason, Life in a Northern Town has stuck with me through the years. I liked the song when it came out back when MTV was concerned mostly with music and showed videos. I was in college, in the middle of my REM/Police/U2/cheap beer phase.
So how did it cut through the Weideman-soaked haze to stick with me as my choice for greatest one-hit wonder ever?
I think mostly it has to do with the combination of sounds that make the song perfect. It was about doing something so different that people had to notice. The Dream Academy came together and produced one song that, to me, is very memorable.
I still like this song. A lot. A lot more than anyone who in his Rory Gallagher/microbrew/get the kids to baseball practice phase should. So, what did it teach me about strategy?
Cut through the clutter of sameness. If you're doing the same thing as your competitors, you won't be noticed by consumers.
Provide something of unsurpassed quality. If you're doing it half-assed, not only are you missing an opportunity, you kinda suck.
Believe in what you're doing. If you don't, you'll never convince your client he should be doing what you're advising him to do.
Tell a good story. 'Nuff said.
So that's what I learned, although I probably didn't know it at the time. (I blame the Weidemann.) But at least now, working for a Kansas City website design company, I can recall why I like it use it as an analogy for the business.
