For Myself & Others: Big Mac Attack
By Bomani Jones, AOL BlackVoices columnist
Most rappers dream of being the next Tupac, but who wants to be the Notorious B.I.G. Mac?
McDonald's, fast-food giant and American institution, is offering between $1 and $5 to rappers for every time one of their songs is played on the radio that shouts out the Big Mac, a confusing mix of meat, salad dressing, sesame seeds and enough bread to make Dr. Atkins cuss. Maybe Mickey D's is still trying to recover the sales it lost when Rob Base dissed its flagship sandwich on 'It Takes Two,' but the only folks dumber than the ad men that came up with this idea would be the rappers who sign up for such a cheesy gimmick.
Rappers have signed up for similar gimmicks. Maven Strategies, the advertising agency behind this project, ran a similar project for Seagram's gin. Petey Pablo wasn't lying when he said he was paid to drink Seagram's, but it's unlikely his ringing endorsement moved that many bottles of Bumpy Face. A marketing analyst would be better able to make this statement, but it would seem that the greatest promotional tool for cheap gin is hard times. Edgar Brofman should send checks to Dubya & Co. before breaking bread with any emcee.
But really, how many more Big Macs will McDonald's sell by having rappers plug those burgers? What person old enough to digest solids is unfamiliar with the Big Mac? What rapper will have enough pull to get someone who didn't already want a Big Mac to pass up Burger King to hit the Golden Arches? Maybe I'm not giving enough credit to hip-hop's marketing potential, but food and clothing are not the same animal. There is no status associated with fast food, so greasy meat can't be sold with the same techniques as fancy threads. Until cats start carrying brown bags like women tote Louis Vuitton purses, this measure seems doomed.
For the artist, shilling burgers like this is just as bad an idea. As much as fans of hip-hop respect hustlers and their games, this might be more than people can stomach. Few still buy into the idealized notion of sacred artistry, but I can't imagine the general public allowing its intelligence to be insulted in this manner, particularly now that the underlying scheme has been made public.
But what about songs like 'My Adidas' and 'Airforce 1s'? Those are different animals. Run-DMC didn't begin to explore receiving money for sporting Adidas until after the song became a hit. Legend has it that the shoe company didn't even realize the commercial potential of rap music until an executive went to a Run-DMC show and saw thousands of shell toes raised to the rafters at Run's request. 'Airforce 1s' pandered more to the corporate universe, but they were a cultural staple years before Nelly made that song. Should you not believe me, think of the last time they were on sale at the local shoe store. Without marketing opportunities, 'Airforce 1s' would still be culturally relevant.
I see artists no differently than anyone else. The world is full of people trying to get easy money whenever they can, and the ability to rap, sing or play the kazoo does not change that. Art may be sanctified to some, but nothing taints creativity like a bar code. Once the music is made for sale to hundreds of thousands of people, it's commercial by definition. But that does not mean that songs should serve as commercials, and the thought of mentioning a product in a song for pay feels grimy.
The rapper who signs up for this gig should take it all the way. If someone mentions the Big Mac for a few bucks a spin, he or she should negotiate an additional fee for the video. If paid $20 every time the video runs on MTV -- and $10 per play on its melanin-tinted complement, BET -- an artist should be willing to dress up like Ronald McDonald. All those dubs should compel someone's favorite rapper to throw on a puffy wig, red nose, bleach white makeup and yellow suit, right?
In fact, that move would be fitting. Anyone willing to go for this is a clown, so he or she may as well dress the part.