Slip a Big Mac into a rap, get a check from Ronald
Hip-hop history shows that the first instance of product placement in a rap song wasn't a reference to sneakers, cars, or designer purses.
It was to Kaopectate.
On ''Rapper's Delight," Wonder Mike of the Sugarhill Gang rhymes about running ''to the store for quick relief," after a particularly nasty meal, for a bottle of the chalky concoction known for relieving gastrointestinal distress.
That was back in 1979, when hip-hop was dismissed as a fad rather than embraced as a cultural movement, so it's a safe guess that Kaopectate sales didn't spike just because its name appeared in the first rap song to crack Billboard's Top 40 pop singles chart. Nor is it likely that Sugarhill Gang was compensated for immortalizing the over-the-counter medication.
Now, of course, advertisers are well attuned to the powers of hip-hop -- not as an art form, but as yet another way to hype their products. Last week, AdAge.com, the online site of Advertising Age magazine, reported that
According to the story, the marketing company, Maven Strategies, has already contacted several rappers, as well as producers and record labels, about the plan. Artists who sign on will not be paid upfront, but will instead receive $1 to $5 every time their song is played on the radio -- in other words, it'll only cost the company if the song is a hit, and even then, it's far less than it would pay to launch a traditional ad campaign.
''Hip-hop represents a large share of what pop culture is today," Tony Rome, Maven Strategies' president and chief executive officer, told AdAge.com. ''Hip-hop's endorsement of different brands give them a cool factor and representation among youth. They gain credibility by being mentioned in songs."
This would be insulting to any self-respecting hip-hop artist, except that as we speak there's probably some rapper somewhere scribbling away, trying to find words that rhyme with Big Mac.
Rome knows his business. In a deal brokered last year by Maven Strategies with Seagram's, the name of its gin was worked into rap songs by such artists as Kanye West and Petey Pablo. In Petey's massive 2004 hit ''Freek-A-Leek," after rapping about lots of unmentionable things involving drugs and sex, he winds up with the line, ''Now, I got to give a shout-out to Seagram's Gin 'cause I drink it, and they payin' me for it."
Hardly subtle, but then again, the song's strength wasn't nuanced wordplay.
From Run-DMC's ''My Adidas" to Busta Rhymes's ''Pass the Courvoisier," hip-hop artists have never shied from endorsing their favorite products in song. Both Missy Elliott (''Lick Shots") and Ludacris (''What's Your Fantasy") have mentioned the Cadillac Escalade, Nelly highlighted
And it's been very profitable for corporate America. When Busta teamed with Sean ''P. Diddy" Combs on ''Pass the Courvoisier" in 2002 (from the 2001 album ''Genesis"), sales of the cognac increased nearly 20 percent by 2003. That song was not a paid product placement, but no doubt other companies, like McDonald's, were paying attention.
For the past half-decade, mainstream hip-hop has suffered from a dearth of originality -- if you've heard one member of the G-Unit, you've heard 'em all. That's because no one is taking creative risks, out of fear they might prove commercially unviable. Nothing drives hip-hop as much as money, hence there will inevitably be rap artists who jump at the chance to sell themselves -- and their lyrics -- to the highest bidder.
Of the McDonald's deal, Rome says: ''The main thing is to allow artists to do what they do best. We're letting them creatively bring to life the product in their song." Still, McDonald's will retain final approval of the lyrics. After all, its officials don't want their beloved Big Macs mentioned in conjunction with a drive-by shooting or some freaky sex act. You better believe some rappers will comply with any and all restrictions because they lack the integrity to say no, even to a fast-food chain that fancies itself a hip-hop lyricist.
We're already accustomed to seeing rappers from the Game to LL Cool J in TV commercials. Likewise, it's one thing for an artist to sell a song to endorse a product -- everyone from Rolling Stones to the Clash to the Isley Brothers has done that. Yet, there's something far more insidious about artists allowing their songs' lyrics to become just another avenue for product placement by corporate America. At this rate, mainstream hip-hop may soon be little more than a series of pop-up ads set to a beat.
Renée Graham's Life in the Pop Lane column appears on Tuesdays. She can be reached at graham@globe.com.
