THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, February 24, 1995 TAG: 9502240521
SECTION: BUSINESS PAGE: D1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY BILL SIZEMORE, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 109 lines
It had to happen; it was just a question of how long it would take.
Now we know: 25 years.
A quarter of a century after her untimely death, Janis Joplin is selling cars.
Turn on your TV; you'll see. A picture of a car materializes on the screen, and then from the grave comes that wonderful, gravelly, booze-hardened, in-your-face voice, singing a cappella:
Oh, Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes-Benz
My friends all drive Porsches; I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
Oh, Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes-Benz
Once again, the '60s meet the '90s, and the encounter reverberates with a wild cultural dissonance.
At first blush, it's perfect. How many manufacturers can dredge up a musical classic from that mythologized decade that actually mentions their product by name?
Mercedes is the latest in a long line of companies to go after middle-aged baby boomers with something that stirs a visceral connection to their storied youth: their music.
The marketing world even has a name for it: ``Big Chill'' advertising.
``It became prevalent in the mid-'80s after the `The Big Chill' came out,'' said Ray Serafin, an automotive writer for Advertising Age magazine. That movie, which became a baby boomers' cult classic with its story of youthful idealism chilled by the compromises of middle age, featured a soundtrack full of '60s tunes.
Lincoln-Mercury was the first to use the approach to hype products on a major scale. Its commercials used music by a host of artists including the Beatles, the Coasters, Tina Turner, the Four Tops, the Temptations, and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas.
In fact, the company got in trouble using a Bette Midler soundalike for ``Do You Wanna Dance.'' Midler sued and won, which put a damper on the use of soundalikes. But the use of real '60s recordings continued apace.
For several years now, Chevrolet has been using Bob Seger's ``Like a Rock'' to sell trucks. Unlike most of the ``Big Chill'' ads, the Chevy spots ``express some sentiments that might be applied to the vehicles themselves, rather than sheer entertainment,'' Serafin said. ``Most of them are just trying to evoke an emotional connection.''
Now comes Mercedes, using the Joplin tune in what the industry calls a ``value spot,'' intended to convince baby boomers that Mercedes, despite its luxury image, is really an economical car. It advertises the C Class, which the company considers the ``entry level'' Mercedes (priced from $32,000), and the slightly pricier E Class ($40,000).
``Mercedes is making a concerted effort to attract nontraditional buyers,'' Serafin said. ``They're looking to the future when they're going to be bringing some different vehicles to the market. They've got a sport utility vehicle, to be made in Alabama, coming out in a couple of years, and also a smaller urbantype vehicle. So they're looking at freshening up their image.''
The strategy is to soften boomers' perception of the Mercedes brand by making it seem less stuffy, more approachable.
``The campaign revolves around establishing relevancy,'' said Donna Boland, director of public relations for Mercedes-Benz of North America. ``The Janis ad fits within that nostalgia mode. It evokes the memories of the '60s and brings back a good feeling.
``We've been asked why we didn't use it before, because it seems so natural. The reason is that the people who really appreciated that music are only now in the right income bracket for our product.''
The ad was created by Lowe & Partners/SMS, an agency known for unconventional work on behalf of brands like Grey Poupon mustard. ``We couldn't have used this song 25 years ago,'' said Lee Garfinkel, the agency's chief creative officer. ``Our target audience knows that, and that's one of the reasons it works so well in the strategy.''
That's for sure. Joplin, one of those legendary '60s artists who flamed out before the age of 30, was a hard-drinking Texas blues rocker who was found dead in a Hollywood hotel room in 1970 from a heroin overdose. Her fans were long-haired, pot-smoking kids for whom a primary criterion in judging music was how much their parents hated it.
The ultimate irony here is that the ``Mercedes-Benz'' song was an anti-materialist anthem. Its whole reason for being was to poke fun at those who find fulfillment in acquiring consumer goods.
For the record, here are the rest of the lyrics, the ones you don't hear on TV:
Oh, Lord, won't you buy me a color TV
``Dialing for Dollars'' is trying to find me
I wait for delivery each day until three
Oh, Lord, won't you buy me a color TV
Oh, Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town
I'm counting on you, Lord, please don't let me down
Prove that you love me, and buy the next round
Oh, Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town
Does Mercedes appreciate the irony? Well, yes, but they'd rather not draw attention to it. Here's spokeswoman Boland again:
``These lyrics are certainly among the best known in the rock world. Things like this have a life of their own. . . . There's always going to be people who're going to dissect something like this . . . but I think most of our buyers will understand that we're harkening back to the '60s as a whole.''
Translation: Social and political import be damned. If the Lord won't buy you a Mercedes-Benz, plunk down the cash yourself. You've earned it. As Janis herself put it in a different context:
I say get it while you can
Hey, hey, get it while you can
Hey, hey, get it while you can . . . ILLUSTRATION: JANET SHAUGHNESSY
Staff
by CNB