The sweeping change that occurred in the 1960s caused many lasting impacts, such as the end of legally enforced racial segregation and the birth of widespread cynicism of government. Other relics
of the ’60s, such as the Harley-Davidson as a symbol of rebellion and religion through LSD, have proved less enduring.
The idea of artistic integrity among musicians belongs firmly in the latter camp. In the ’60s, most musicians who wanted to be taken seriously didn’t sell out. They believed it was necessary to preserve music’s credibility as a medium of protest and social change.
How far we have come from that ideal was driven home to me recently, when I saw a new television ad featuring alternative-rap artist Mos Def hawking the GMC Envoy Denali, a sport utility vehicle. My heart sank. One isn’t surprised to see Britney Spears shilling for Pepsi or Moby selling his music to anyone who waves a few dollars in front of his self-righteous, pseudo-intellectual, feng shui-liberal face, but when one of the primary flag bearers of
alternative hip-hop sells out, it means something.
Britney Spears and the like do not pretend to have artistic credibility, so when they sell their music for commercial purposes, it’s hard to consider it selling out. But Mos Def advocates revolution in his songs. His 2004 album, “The New Danger,” includes the song “War,” a provocative criticism of (presumably) the Iraq conflict. It begins with the line, “War is a global economic phenomenon.”
Well, guess what, Mos: So is the automobile industry. When you lend your name, likeness and words to sell a vehicle that gets between 15 and 20 miles per gallon, it’s a tad hypocritical to criticize a war fought at least partly over oil. When you rap about black oppression, do you envision the route to victory over racism completed in the GMC Envoy Denali? Might better ways exist for black Americans, whom GMC says it specifically targeted with the Mos Def/Envoy Denali ad, to overcome oppression than by spending $37,565 on an Envoy Denali?
While Mos Def represents perhaps the most egregious recent sell-out in alternative music, he’s hardly the only perpetrator. It’s been dispiriting recently to watch good, up-and-coming bands sell out even before they hit the big time. Both Kasabian and Pinback sold their music for television ads long before most casual music fans could find the bands on their own.
Other examples of good bands selling out abound. Aerosmith has appeared in ads for Gap, among others. The Stone Temple Pilots sold its music for a car ad, an audacious act considering the band’s song “Trippin’ On a Hole in a Paper Heart”
includes the lyric, “I’m not for sale.” Other examples are too numerous
to mention.
While the Stone Temple Pilots decided it most certainly was for sale, other bands have stuck to their guns. Pearl Jam never has and never will sell out. The same is true of Radiohead and Neil Young. The Strokes and The White Stripes both reportedly turned down huge sums to sell their songs to Gap. And U2, despite the use of its song “Vertigo” in an iPod ad, has been very careful for more than 20 years about lending its music for commercial
purposes. So it is possible to resist
selling out.
I can hear the question in the back of your mind: What’s the big deal? Fair enough; many people don’t care at all when bands sell out. For them, it’s a fact of modern life, like online shopping or global warming. But I see two main problems with selling out: The first is that it destroys the credibility of music as a medium for protest or social change. American music has long had a contrarian thread that runs from slave lamentations to Woody Guthrie to early rock ‘n’ roll to Jimi Hendrix to Dead Kennedys to Rage Against The Machine to Green Day. People like
Mos Def betray not only that contrarian tradition but also themselves. Mos Def, a talented rapper with interesting things to say, now looks like a joke.
The second main problem with selling out is that it often compromises the music itself. When Moby composes an album, does he think about what his fans will like or what ad agencies will like? Given that Moby licensed every single song on his blockbuster 1999 album “Play” for commercial purposes, as VH1 reported, it’s a fair question.
Music should not be regarded as mere advertising content. It’s up to each contemporary musician
to prove he’s an artist and not just
a salesman.

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