Music consultant and founder of the Brooklyn Music Experience Josh Rabinowitz looks at how music-focused roles in advertising have evolved, from jingle writers and music producers to the modern-day music supervisor.
During the final class of each of the past 25 semesters of my course “Music in the Media”, I pose the sensible and annoyingly adult question to my students: “If you were able to get any job in the music business, what would it be?” Each and every time the majority of the class says they’d love to be a music supervisor, “like you”, some say. Several may just be brown-nosing their Prof, but it is certainly noteworthy how during the last decade that so many aspirant music folks, like my students, are voicing this particular career interest.
Enigmatically, I didn’t actually start out as a music supervisor – in a way it was thrust upon me, somewhat unwittingly. Simultaneously (or ‘synchronously’ shall I say?) as the term ‘synch’ or ‘sync’ became the official business jargon for music licensing, the title of music producer in my space – the advertising music space – morphed somewhat compulsorily into that of the music supervisor.
This morphing has been quite interesting to say the least.
Back in the day, music producers in advertising had expertise in concrete traditional music production. They demonstrated not only an understanding of what music was relevant and important in culture, but how to skilfully craft that music in the studio, as a collaborator, with musicians, composers, songwriters and engineers. They were creators and treated in the creative process as such. Many had cut their teeth as engineers in recording studios, or were musicians in bands, or even had produced records for labels. Several were a ‘combo’ thereof.
Back in the day, music producers in advertising had expertise in concrete traditional music production. They demonstrated not only an understanding of what music was relevant and important in culture, but how to skilfully craft that music in the studio.
A classic example on the advertising agency side was Billy Davis (aka Tyran Carlo), who, for McCann Erickson and Coca-Cola, produced arguably the greatest jingle of all time, “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing”, which became an actual hit single by two groups in 1971. A ‘jingle-single’ if you will.
Before blowing out the :60 radio version of that jingle into a full-length song format that actually ascended the Billboard Charts with both The Hillside Singers and The New Seekers, Davis had cut his teeth in popular soul and R&B music. Not only was he a big part of the early Detroit Motown scene, co-writing and producing hits for Jackie Wilson and being part of the original version of The Four Tops (Known as the Four Aims), but he was also a big part of the Chess Records soul scene later in the 1960s in Chicago, penning and producing hits for Fontella Bass, The Dells, and the incomparable Etta James: quite the musical pedigree, especially for an ad dude.
A more notorious example was Joe Brooks, a very prolific and successful jingle writer and producer from the 1970s. Brooks wrote and produced the huge 1977 hit, “You Light up My Life” which was part of the soundtrack of the same-titled film that he also directed, wrote and produced. The hit single, which was re-recorded by Pat Boone’s daughter, Debby Boone, and originally recorded for the soundtrack by Kasey Cysik (which was in turn lip-synched in the film by Didi Conn), held the #1 position on the Billboard Hot 100 for 10 straight weeks. Brooks also directed and produced an autobiographical film entitled “If I Ever See you Again” about a Madison Avenue music composer and producer, which was panned by critics. Deplorably he was known to be abusive and was charged with rape and assault just before committing suicide in 2011. A Mad Man indeed! Please do read his eerie obituary from the New York Times, not a great look.
From the mid-1960s onwards, most major ad agencies in the US employed full-time music producers, some were even staffed and led by a music director. Some of these music directors even composed tracks for the campaigns as well. Many music/jingle houses, in turn, also had at least one staff music producer in-house, sometimes several, and would employ freelance producers for specific projects. By the early 2000s my best guess is that there were a few hundred music producers working in the advertising and branding space worldwide.
From the late 1960s into the 1970s, several successful and creative film auteurs like Mike Nichols, Martin Scorsese, Dennis Hopper, Stanley Kubrick and George Lucas began to utilize music that was relevant-in-culture for their soundtracks, rather than commissioning the more typical cinematic classical-shaped custom composition and scoring approach. Several of these directors professed that music drove their ideation, their storyboarding, and the feeling for each scene. Why not use the music that influenced and inspired their creativity, they proffered. Early outlier films in this category were The Graduate, Easy Rider, American Graffiti and Mean Streets. Two exceptional directors heavily influenced by these auteurs were Quentin Tarantino and Wes Anderson.
In order to help facilitate and execute this innovative approach, the modern music supervisor in film was born.
It took a while, but TV began to embrace this music-in-culture leaning in the 1990s. Most of the theme music in television, to that point, was essentially equivalent to the jingle. Short ditties, mainly created by composers – some licensed from bands, some cooler than others – painted a generally cheesy and catchy introductory picture of the show’s concept and vibe. TV showrunners engaged music experts, who mirrored film, and began to use bands emerging and known, popular and indie, and TV began to thrive.
Bands were now getting broken via TV uses, and advertising – historically a cultural laggard in media, staffed generally with folks who aspired to be either TV or Film writers, directors, artists, painters and musicians – paid heed.
Bands were now getting broken via TV uses, and advertising – historically a cultural laggard in media, staffed generally with folks who aspired to be either TV or Film writers, directors, artists, painters and musicians – paid heed.
After a few ad placements in the late 1990s into 2000 resonated globally with a few key brands in terms of impressions, creative successes, record sales and of course product sales, the advertising business at-large began to salivate and demanded, as a reflex, the licensing of cool, existing tracks. When they couldn’t license some of these tracks they’d copy them, which has created a huge IP mess and a weak, uncreative business practice that sadly remains in the creative content bloodstream even today.
Successes like Sting’s “Desert Rose” for Jaguar; Nick Drake’s “Pink Moon” for VW; The Verve’s (or shall I say The Rolling Stones’, who owned the legal copyright of that song until last year) “Bittersweet Symphony” for Nike; and an array of amazing Apple iPod and iTunes ads roused brands and creative teams all over the globe. Interestingly, Apple’s use of music in particular helped break several artists, elevated Apple to the world’s most important lifestyle brand, and gave additional relevance to mongo acts such as U2 and Coldplay.
Another groundbreaking use was Cadillac’s 2002 licensing of Led Zeppelin’s classic tune “Rock n’ Roll”, which everyone and their mother seemed to claim responsibility for either choosing, negotiating, or both. These outlier uses in advertising created a global fascination with ad licensing, and thus an insider interest as well in who actually was supervising the music.
These outlier uses in advertising created a global fascination with ad licensing, and thus an insider interest as well in who actually was supervising the music.
At the same time as the well-deserved perception and respect for the music supervisor in TV and Film gained attention in the public consciousness, so thus, by association and the Apple advertising music resonation, did the music supervisor for ads and brands.
Because of a plethora of high end music-inflected television shows, many of which music supervised by top tier radio DJs that were associated with WKCRW in Los Angeles, and/or by Alexandra Patsavas and her hugely influential Chop Shop Music Supervision team, the role of the music supervisor developed a halo, a radiance, a nimbus if you will.
By 2005, advertising music, once the realm of the jingle and original music composition, was now being dominated by licensed music. Also, with the successes of TV and Film music supervisors, and because of the money obtainable from advertising budgets, some of these recognized curators also began to focus on advertising opps – thus propagating the idea that ‘real’ music, not ‘ad music’, was being curated by culturally-legit music people.
Because music supervision was about knowledge, taste and being in touch with music in a general sense, the former expertise of the music producer, although still necessary to an extent in the creative and production process of Film and TV, played a smaller role, particularly within the break-neck paced business practices of advertising production. As a result, ad music producers had to shift their priorities more towards music licensing.
Big songs were now consistently being licensed for ads, and increasingly music producers at agencies were beginning to be called music supervisors.
Big songs were now consistently being licensed for ads, and increasingly music producers at agencies were beginning to be called music supervisors. The shift was perceived as super cool and it aligned with the rise and prominence of the digital musical space in culture. However, advertising music supervisors were mostly used as digital track collectors for creative and production departments. They had lost that principal role as creators, but that didn’t seem to matter.
More and more music supervisors emerged as the demand for existing music for ads increased. Internal licensing teams at major and indie rights holders expanded. Brands and other marketing concerns enlisted internal or third-party music supervision expertise. More in-house supervisors were hired at ad agencies. Music supervision became a ‘thing’ at music conferences (like SXSW, Midem, etc.) and award shows globally. Cannes Lions added a separate jury for music in 2016.
Josh Rabinowitz at Cannes Lions 2016
Because of the ascendance of Spotify, Apple Music and other music tech platforms, the playlist became the music supervisor’s tool, but even more so, their currency. Spotify music programmers, aka ‘playlisters’, became super prominent actors and curators in the new music business. However, everyone could make a playlist, so it was harder to stand out and earn your stripes as an outlier music expert.
Interestingly, as social media attained cultural dominance, music curators, music supervisors, independent artists, ‘playlisters’, etc. were able to share their work and credits to new media outlets, as well as to old ones trying to keep up. They were able to connect to enthusiasts and aficionados, and/or create a presence and a perception. Seemingly everyone was now able to ‘publish’ his or her wares, in the press.
Simultaneously, ‘sync’ became a thing, and the shifting music industry paradigm began to embrace this space with open arms.
By 2010, music brand partnerships and sponsorships followed suit – brands were throwing a great deal of money at music, with some successes. Music branding firms/agencies/companies began to service this interest with gusto. PR companies added this capability to their offering. The Guild of Music Supervisors began to include and celebrate ad music supes. Thus, the perceived necessary music expertise in the ad and marketing space had evolved even more. Music for ads and brands had a spotlight on it.
By 2015, the terms ‘sync’ and ‘brands’ became music industry buzzwords. The labels and publishers smartly recognized this trending perception and boldly raised their licensing fee structures for ads.
By 2015, the terms ‘sync’ and ‘brands’ became music industry buzzwords. The labels and publishers smartly recognized this trending perception and boldly raised their licensing fee structures for ads.
Over the last 10 years, every article about the importance of sync in advertising, or Super Bowl ad music, or music supervisors as the “new A&R”, or advertising as the “new radio”, highlighted this burgeoning business and fed the financial frenzy. Fee structures then, in turn, began to shoot though the roof.
The press coverage, particularly about the music for the Super Bowl and other major ad spend-heavy events, which in the past had been about the ad creators and their concepts, was now based around the publishers and the label executives, and most especially the fees. As mentioned, many brands and advertisers were willing to pay these high fees, especially for well-known, popular songs, which in turn polarized the fee distribution structure in ads.
This polarization is worth noting. Over the past 7 or so years, brands have been willing and able to either pay the aforementioned high fees for existing tracks, or, with what many call the “race to the bottom”, are willing and able to pay low-tier fees for production and stock music licenses, abandoning the middle ground. This has forced the middle ground, essentially the custom music space, to be diminished, and/or to lower their price point to sustain their businesses. Thus, the creative and production bespoke side of music in advertising absorbs another demonstrable hit.
Over the past 7 or so years, brands have been willing and able to either pay the aforementioned high fees for existing tracks, or, with what many call the “race to the bottom”, are willing and able to pay low-tier fees for production and stock music licenses, abandoning the middle ground.
In 2016, Billboard initiated a “Branding Power Players” list that mainly celebrated and honored the executives that sold the music rather than the creative agencies and firms that bought the music. It made sense that an industry that had been challenged by the free download digital disruption was treading water based upon sync and brand revenue. And, of course, as streaming took hold amongst consumers, an industry in trouble began to recover.
This is all happening as advertising agencies as a whole are experiencing huge challenges. Clients and brands don’t necessarily need their exclusive services anymore and are selectively hiring consultants and boutiques to do their work. Many brands, including outlier tech companies, can easily afford to maintain an in-house creative mini-shop. And now with the economic crush that started in March, the ad paradigm is obviously exacerbated even further.
Also due to COVID, the messaging from brands has unfortunately been homogenized, and much of the music is unoriginal and expected, thus the need for creative musical curation has become limited.
Hopefully, with the global attention now being paid to race and white privilege and supremacy, music stewardship and supervision will dig deeper into the world’s most inspired and important resource of all in music – the African American musical experience.
Music supervision in advertising is thus at a crossroads. There are hundreds and hundreds of music supervisors who touch this space. Hopefully its association with money and the music industry at-large won’t continue to separate it from its original essence, that of the creator and the ideator. And as with most of media culture, maybe the emerging generation will be able to generate some welcome ingenuity in the space. Furthermore, as we all know, if there’s anything that bring relevance and authenticity to an advertising campaign, it’s great, resonant music choices and curation!
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