|
|
Yo, Pass The Rock
Georgina Gustin
It might've started
inadvertently with Queen's "We Are the Champions," but somewhere, along
the music-sports continuum, professional sports leagues began
strategically using music to win fans -- and the music industry jumped
happily aboard.
Music sells sports and
sports sells music.
"It's a great,
symbiotic, mutually beneficial relationship," says Mike Bass, head of
communications for the NBA, which produced an ad with the Black Eyed Peas
to promote this year's finals.
It's not just an accompaniment, a facet of the
"game-day experience" or a way to get fans fired up anymore. It's a formal
marketing tool -- one that works successfully in some sports and
disastrously in others. Critics say, as the sports-music marketing
apparatus has gotten so pervasive and sophisticated, it inevitably has
started to focus on new and younger wallets, alienating older, more staid
fans who are just tuning out.
"We basically leverage
the power of sport," said Pat O'Connor, founder of POC Media, which gets
between $25,000 and $50,000 from record labels, including all the majors,
to land sports-arena exposure for its artists. "We're trying to get the
sports organizations to play cutting edge music rather than tailoring it
to the 40-year-old demographic. The same kid that's wearing Nikes because
LeBron James is wearing Nikes wants to hear Chingy rather than something
that was hot in the 80s."
Even the hushed PGA
Tour is trying to liven up the golfing scene, earlier this year hiring
William Morris, one of the world's largest talent and literary agencies,
to "expand brand presence" in the entertainment community. The arrangement
may not lead to bands playing along the fairways at tournaments, but PGA
execs say that's not out of the question. Certainly, we can expect to see
more golfers in film, television and videos.
When ESPN launched its
first X Games a decade ago, it employed a hugely succesful MTV-esque
formula, and other sports leagues took notice. With the X Games, athletes
chose the songs they wanted playing as they competed, giving the whole
thing a video-like feel -- and creating a new, lucrative sports franchise
in the process. "I don't think the X Games could be what it is without
music," said Melissa Gullotti, of ESPN. "It's what drives the athletes."
Taking a page from the
X Games stylebook, professional baseball players started requesting that
certain songs get blasted when they walk up to the plate. Alex Rodriguez,
then of the Seattle Mariners, took a shine to a song five years ago, and
within months "Who Let the Dogs Out," which started as A-Rod's own
personal serenade, was a contagion, a hit that might never have made radio
if the promotion department at the team hadn't plucked it out of the new
music file.
But the musical
relationship that's native to the X Games, and other sports like snow and
skate boarding, isn't as pervasive in the live culture of other sports --
and the relationship between the industries isn't as comfortable.
About 10 years ago the
NFL decided it would make music even more of a centerpiece in its Super
Bowl extravaganza, designing halftime shows to appeal to every
demographic. "We always look to feature a diverse show," said Brian
McCarthy, an NFL spokesman, noting, that with 140 million viewers this
year, the Super Bowl drew the largest audience of any television broadcast
ever. In other words, he said, the music needed to reach a range of people
-- hence the appearances of Jessica Simpson, P Diddy and Kid Rock this
year.
But the notoriously
control freakish NFL lost control of one particular variable -- Janet
Jackson's breast -- and recoiled immediately from its music-friendly tack
by announcing the removal of NSync's JC Chasez from its Pro Bowl concert
and the cancellation of its kick-off concert in Times Square later this
year. "We're going to be taking greater hands-on control," said McCarthy,
about next year's show, explaining that all the songs and costumes will be
vetted by the NFL, rather than a production company, like this year's MTV.
So, as the NFL has
tried to be all musical things to all people, the NBA has become virtually
indistinguishable from one genre -- hip hop.
"You can parallel the
rise of the NBA with the rise of hip hop," said Todd Boyd, author of
Young, Black, Rich, and Famous, a book about the NBA and the ascent of
hip hop. Now, Boyd notes, hip hop is the most popular music form in the
country, "so it would make sense the NBA would identify with it."
The current generation of basketball players
grew up with hip hop and brought it to the courts where the setting is
more intimate than other sports and where individual stars rise faster,
younger and, perhaps, with greater public scrutiny. Boyd, for one, thinks
that hip hop has disenfranchised older, white fans because of an old,
white media that can't identify with hip hop culture. "Race is part of it,
sure. But age is a big part of it as well," he said, adding, "If they're
disenfranchised they assume everyone else is."
In fact, audience
attendance at NBA games has risen over the past ten years, even as the
more lucrative television audience has plummeted, and the people who can
afford to pay for live tickets are very often older, wealthier white guys.
The NBA's Mike Bass notes, too, that the ratings drop is not exclusive to
NBA basketball. "Every sport has lost its audience in the last decade," he
said.
Sports events now are
tightly choreographed. In-house production people choosing the songs, and
videos, with footage of taped action, play on score boards, often with
music credits attached. Record companies court the teams to get their
artists' songs played at games while the teams work to fine-tune just the
right line up of songs. "There's a tightrope they walk between it being
fun, cool and interesting," said Peter Land, a former marketing director
for the NBA, now running the sports division at PR giant Edelman, "and
losing their core audience."
Some sports fans,
though, want their sporting pure, and it's unclear how much entertainment
crossover traditionalists will tolerate. Even less conservative audiences
and fans have reached their threshold for the entertainment-sports mix.
"The whole thing is so
commercialized it's beyond belief," said Daily Show regular, football fan
and comedian Lewis Black, riffing on the NFL's biggest day. "The way
things are evolving with the Super Bowl, in 10 years they'll just have
planes fly over and dump shit on people. But it'll be done to music."
Georgina Gustin is a free-lance writer
living in St. Louis. This is her first work for Arriviste Press.
|
 |
|







|