The Budwesier Superfest and the Business of Black Music Pt. 1 by Sheldon Taylor
The cup of content continues to runneth over providing a welcome respite from pandemic purgatory. Aficionados of a certain age can look past Versuz , Facebook and IG Live and remember the days before binging---agonizing over blink-and-you'll miss moments and anticipating Black entertainment citings that seem to come as often as Haley's Comet.
Of course there was Soul Train. Before that was seminal forerunner Soul! Occasionally there was American Bandstand. PBS had Soundstage. If you stayed up late you could catch Rick James or the Ohio Players on Don Kirshner's Rock Concert and The Midnight Special.
Pre-cable, it was a major event when Black entertainers showed up on Flip Wilson, Ed Sullivan, Sonny and Cher or the Carol Burnett Show (think Michael Jackson's primetime Motown 25 appearance or Beyonce's Netflix Graduation special).
An act with a big hit climbing the charts or a great publicist/manager (or maybe both) might hit the 70s daytime talk-show circuit and appear on Dinah Shore or Mike Douglas---couch interview optional.
Mostly, under-the-radar Black performers had to take to the stage to construct their legend, playing to packed houses across America. Many of these tours that were corporately backed by tobacco and liquor companies.
This pioneering sponsorship concept was the brainchild of entertainment impresario George Wein---the man behind the outdoor Newport Jazz Festival and Kool Jazz Festival splinter/spinoff featuring jazz elites like Charles Mingus, Duke Ellington and Miles Davis.
In '72, Wein moved the festivals south to New York City. Targeting younger crowds, Wein stocked Shea and Yankee stadiums with rock, R&B and funk "money acts" like War and Roberta Flack currently selling records by the hundreds of thousands.
Legacy and tradition was Wein's driving force for change. Justifying his musical diversity in a 1977 Washington Post piece, ("The Kool Jazz Festival"), Wein asserted that "blues is a subset of jazz. Rhythm and blues was a subset of blues, so these acts can safely be called jazz."
"Black wasn't just beautiful. Now it was lucrative."
Diversity didn't just take place onstage. It was also happening in the boardroom. Corporate America looked to move into previously untapped African American consumer markets. Black wasn't just beautiful. Now it was lucrative.
This new climate prompted the rise of the Black executive. Tapped to lead "special markets" (translation: Black ) on the chase for the Black dollar---record companies led the way.
Others would soon follow suit-----specifically beer and spirits brands.
Veteran jazz/R&B singer Arthur Prysock's plush baritone ("here's to good friends/tonight is kind of special/let it be Lowenbrau") was featured in a series of Lowenbrau commercials. Soul/R&B stars Teddy Pendergrass, The Commodores and Kool and the Gang all appeared in Schlitz Malt Liquor TV commercials ("don't say beer/say bull!").
In an attempt to duplicate Colt 45's success with the debonair Williams, Anheuser-Busch tapped uber-macho action star Fred Williamson to appear in their King Cobra ads ("don't let the smooth taste fool you")
Budweiser remained ahead of the pack. Working closely with Black advertisers and executives to position the brand within the African American community, Anheuser-Busch launched the Great Kings and Queens of Africa traveling exhibit featuring artwork of great rulers in African history created by Black artists.
Customers were provided promotional swag emblazoned with the Budweiser logo that were everywhere in the 70s and 80s. Thirty years later, I'm still crushed that I lacked the forward thinking to snatch up those Mansa Musa and Nefertiti posters and calendars back I would have had access to since my mother worked in a liquor store during those days.
Enlisting Lou Rawls as
Budweiser's national spokesman was another coup. A string of 70s hits ("You'll Never Find Another Love Like Mine," "Lady Love," "Groovy People" and "I'll See You When I Get There") cementing Rawls as one of the hottest acts of the era. His deep baritone, urbane charisma and folksy demeanor ("yeah buddy") made him the perfect pitchman for white audiences and Black households where he had been a staple for decades.
Parlaying his success from his well-received Budweiser commercials, he anchored a long-running telethon (sponsored by Budweiser) raising over $250 million for the United Negro College Fund over three decades.
Super Fest impresario Vincent Julien with Smokey Robinson and Smokey Robinson. |
Unlike today's lifestyle brands urging consumers to aspire up, Vincent Julien convinced Budweiser to meet the Black consumer where they were. From this communal strategy sprang national "Bud Whist" card tournaments held in bars and taverns. The Budweiser National Showcase hosted talent competitions at local, regional and national levels---the winner of the final round won a recording contract.
Not just relying on linear statistical data to gauge success, Julien took to the streets. He talked to truck drivers, deliverymen and distributors. Julien even counted the number of empty Budweiser cans on the ground to determine brand consumption levels.
In his memoir Ambassador: Memoirs of A Budweiser Super Fest PR Guy, Edward Reynolds Davis described Julien as a "marketing genius" and a native New Yorker "corporately sharp" in the boardroom and "socially hip as any cat on Lenox Avenue."
Julien's grass-roots marketing strategies made Budweiser #1 among Black
consumers for two decades---a major feat considering that the brand was
closely associated with the good ole boy/frat house crowd.
SUPERFEST!
Declining offers from competitors to lure him away, Julien parlayed his success into his greatest feat: the Budweiser Superfest. Following the model of the Kool Jazz Festival's backing from the cigarette brand popular among African Americans. Julien envisioned a package tour featuring the hottest R&B acts to perform in large stadiums and arenas.
It was a success from the start. Top-billers Teddy Pendrgrass ("Come Go With Me") Ashford and Simpson ("Found A Cure"), Rick James and the Stone City Band ("Bustin' Out") Smokey Robinson ("Cruisin") and GQ ("Disco Nights")---all riding high with gold and platnium hits---graced the stage at Super Fest '80.
Four years later, Jet ("Superfest Hits Road With Hottest Stars") proclaimed the Superfest as the "first step in summer vacation planning." Julien touted the tour's fiscal impact. A Superfest event raking in $800,000 could generate as much as 11 per cent in local and state revenue resulting in tens of thousands of dollars per market.
The revenue spillage also seeked over into Black community, harking back to the days when local establishments reaped financial rewards hosting barnstorming Black entertainers during the days of 1950s and 1960s segregation.
During Superfest season, Black-owned nightclubs, limousine companies, gas stations, stores, barbershops and hair salons all did brisk business. Members from the local community were hired manage parking at each tour stop. Others had concession stands on concert sites.
Before Live Nation, brick-and-mortar businesses were primary ticket outlets. Radio promo spots hyped the tour. For Super Fest acts, a great performance could mean a spike in record sales. Corporate sponsorship kept ticket prices low, giving fans a chance to see their favorite acts for a fraction of the cost of a Jay-Z and Beyonce' show today.
Coming Soon---part II: Road Warriors: The Show Must Go On.
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