Moby has sold more cars than a fleet of Scott Thomasons. King Black Acid accompanies extreme sports programs. Is “television” a synonym for “sellout,” or is there something more to soap themes and toothpaste jingles? As groups like Low, King Black, and 3 Leg Torso can attest, licensing music for TV involves a bunch of issues: artistic, ethical, and–of course–financial.

I’LL HAVE THE GOAT’S MILK YOGURT, PLEASE.

When Alan Sparhawk of Low first heard Nick Drake’s classic “Pink Moon” being
used in a car ad, he thought, “Oh man, what’s going on?” But the dismay gave
way to excitement. “There are people now who are kinda more hip in high places
who make these decisions The early ’90s people that used to go to the shows,
and be on the scene, are now making the advertisements.”

And a good thing it is, for Low and the baby recently born to two band members. Low’s dreamy version of “The Little Drummer Boy” has been heard by millions of new listeners, thanks to a Gap holiday ad about sweaters. The Gap has been heavily criticized and boycotted due to its overseas labor policies and deforestation in Northern California; when their ad agency sought out Low, Sparhawk says “there was a bit of wincing,” all around, with bassist Zak Sally saying, “Oh, Gap. I hate those people.”

But deciding where to draw the line is never easy when it comes to personal politics. “Someone could accuse Fugazi of selling out because they started using regular yogurt instead of goat’s milk yogurt,” Sparhawk jokes. For Low, a commercial’s actual content is important. They’ve turned down liquor ads, he says: “We’re actually kinda spiritual peopleI would have a hard time with half-naked people playing beach volleyball to one of our somber little ditties.”

CUCKOO FOR COCOA PUFFS

Other musicians aren’t concerned about content. “It’s good, when money’s circulating, to be on the receiving end,” laughs Courtney von Drehle, whose local band 3 Leg Torso licenses songs for television. “I’m not a whole lot into indie credibility. I’m struggling to make a living, and I figure that’s the way it is for a lot of musicians.”

Daniel Riddle’s solo work and songs with King Black Acid have appeared on the MTV program Undressed, extreme sports shows for the USA Network, and commercials for a certain controversial athletic shoe company based in the Portland area. “I don’t want to advertise the company in an interview,” Riddle says conspiratorially. “That would be product placement, which I charge for. But if Cocoa Puffs wants me to wear a Cocoa Puffs T-shirt on my rock video, I would consider it for a year’s supply of Cocoa Puffs”

Whether it’s for an ad or one of the many indie films and professional skate/ snowboard videos featuring KBA’s music, Riddle doesn’t worry too much about content. “I personally just love all that stuff, even the ones that don’t pay–it may sound weird, but I’m a musician and I want people to hear my stuff. I know that’s not cool.”

Likewise, Stephanie Smith was excited when her Portland band Spectator Pump placed two songs on a certain WB program: “I mean, it’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer! It’s not like I was embarrassed for my music to be on there or anything.” Smith also digs the feedback she receives as Buffy viewers worldwide discover her music via fan websites.

SEND IN TWO BOX-TOPS FOR FREE NATIONWIDE EXPOSURE!

You don’t wanna sell your soul for no money down, zero interest, and no monthly payments ’til hell freezes over. Underrepresented, unsigned musicians–and those who like to avoid taking things seriously–should be ready for unexpected offers. It really does happen; in fact, it’s happened to me, and I was utterly unprepared to talk legalities with the major television producers who wanted to use my voice in a theme song. To avoid getting caught with your corduroys down, register with BMI or ASCAP, the organizations that gather royalties; keep an updated list of several entertainment attorneys who’ve been recommended by fellow musicians; and register copyrights as appropriate.

If you do field an offer? “I’m big on seeking professional help,” says von Drehle. When 3 Leg Torso first licensed their music for a Ron Tonkin ad through a local organization, they got a “terrible” deal–even though he tried to get advice from the musicians’ union. Now 3 Leg Torso lets their manager negotiate deals. Their music graces everything from European animal commercials to local Oregon Lottery spots–even a 17-part Bosnian reunification comedy show.

Sometimes, smart musicians simply pass up deals altogether. Kneel Cohn of Portland’s Strongbox said nuh-uh to having his music heard by thousands of Fox Sports cable viewers. “The production company didn’t want to give me any money up front, at all,” he explains. “They were saying ‘We’ll use this song, and you’ll get exposure.'” But Cohn licensed the song “Prozac Smile” to appear in the movie Blast. “I did accept it because there was money in it,” he says frankly. “Money up front, and money on the back end of it.”

Even rawk stars on national commercials may not be seeing much of their “sellout” cash. If you’re the average major label band, says Sparhawk, you’re probably stuck with what industry types call recoupable debt–which means “the only thing you get is the honor of being on the commercial. They own the masters. If you own your stuff, you come out a lot better.”

HONEYCOMB’S BIG–YEAH, YEAH!!

Whatever a musician’s philosophy, music listeners and rock critics sometimes get a bit huffy about hearing their musicians on TV–especially in the fierce, obsessive world of indie fandom. Sparhawk admits, “I’ve been afraid of people getting in my face, but I have an answer for them: ‘Oh yeah? Well, I have a nine-month-old daughter! Wanna see DIY? You go have a kid, there’s nothing more DIY than that!’ I have a life to answer to other than my own. If I can make sure she can go to the hospital if she gets sick, then, yeah, you can use our song, as long as it isn’t a complete raping of our music.”

Riddle says he’s gotten “a couple of jabs from the press” about commercial work. Then again, “When people are all struggling artists together and one artist has a little bit of success, the rest of them tend to get jealous or angry or whatever. I think that’s probably why: the people who jabbed us in the press were wondering why they weren’t writing copy for Honeycomb commercials.”

“I’m not really that concerned about what people think about me doing commercial music,” continues Riddle, who works as a carpenter to supplement his musical income. “When I’m covered in grime and dirt and working my fuckin’ ass off, when I get off work and walk out in public, I feel just as stupid as I would if I was doing a commercial for an Exxon oil spill cleanup. At some point, I just have to feel good about what I’m doing; about making music, period. And that’s the bottom line.”