Sounds like teen spirit

What's the right music for an Abercrombie & Fitch buyer? Austin-based company finds out as DJ to the retailers

By Jean Scheidnes
AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF
Thursday, June 15, 2006

So you think you can mix a mean compilation CD. Maybe you can even arrange several hours of music, maintaining a consistent flow and a point of view that is specific yet broadly appealing. And perhaps you could make this arrangement out of songs that are obscure yet oddly familiar. For, say, a store that you wouldn't necessarily shop in. And you could do it again, every month, without repeating songs.

If so, and if you've fantasized about making mixes for a living, you might have a future with DMX Music Inc.

DMX creates soundtracks for businesses including Nike, Hilton Hotels, P.F. Chang's, Restoration Hardware, Gold's Gym and California Pizza Kitchen. Fewer than 6 percent of DMX's 450 employees are music programmers, and only five of those live in Austin. But their dream jobs do exist.

The heart of DMX is what they call "foreground music." Music is often the siren song when it comes to selling stuff. When you cross the threshold into a store or restaurant, or even pass by one, its music sends a message about whether you belong in there.

"When someone walks into that environment, they don't have the option to change the dial or tune out. If they don't like it, they'll turn around and leave. That's something we always have to think about. At the same time, what we're selling isn't necessarily for everyone," says Seattle-based DMX programmer Randy Schlager, who works with Abercrombie & Fitch. The store nurtures an exclusive image that appeals chiefly to affluent college kids and others who aspire to be affluent college kids.

Abercrombie & Fitch, one of the most controlling and astute brand marketers in the mall, blasts clubby, high-decibel dance music. Dance is probably not what Abercrombie & Fitch's target customer is listening to on his or her iPod, but it's a signature. While its closest competitors are playing rock, Abercrombie & Fitch is using music that seems at odds with the blue-blood aesthetic of its interiors and imagery, but which imparts an energy level and attitude that is all its own.

"It may have nothing to do with what you listen to in your car or home. It's more of an aspirational feeling. If people go to Abercrombie, they're not going to hear songs they have at home. They're being exposed to songs for the first time — the implication being that Abercrombie is leading trends. And you aspire to be part of a brand that's leading forward," says Rick Barrick, DMX vice president of premier accounts, who is based in Atlanta.

At Barton Creek Square, Abercrombie's pulsing bass is audible from the opposite side of the mall's wide corridor. There are no pauses between songs. And there is no mistaking this store for another. If Mom hates the music or anything else the brand stands for, so be it, as long as she indulges her kids' tastes and hands over the credit card.

Retail chains tend to invest a great deal of thought and planning in visual elements such as lighting, colors and fixtures, and treat music as an afterthought. Naturally, the DMX folks think this is a mistake.

"You may not perceive the entire visual experience, but you can't get away from music," Barrick says. Music can indeed elicit strong emotional responses, and emotions can lead to spending. But no one song can epitomize a brand or be counted on to motivate consumers. It is the collection of songs and the way they are sequenced that create what retailers hope is a compelling effect.

Larger stores can use multiple soundtracks to differentiate departments. For example, Nordstrom stores typically have live pianists who play standards by the likes of Barbra Streisand and the Beatles. The juniors department known as BP, however, is visually and aurally distinct, taking its inspiration from a trendy warehouse setting. Its floor is concrete and its ceiling is exposed, while the rest of store has carpeting and an acoustic tile ceiling. A large screen displays music videos. Mannequins sport green, purple, yellow and orange wigs. Walls are splashed with hot pink.

"The color scheme is exciting, so the music and video need to enhance and match it," says Alan Furst, DMX's vice president of programming. "But it's not loud and it's not edgy."

The company's sound engineers ensure that speakers are directed so volume is sharply diminished just outside the BP space, so as not to disturb shoppers in adjacent departments.

Infused in music

DMX headquarters were relocated to Austin from Los Angeles a year ago, after the company was acquired for $75 million by THP Capstar Inc., a partnership between Austin media entrepreneur Steve Hicks' Capstar Partners LLC and Trinity Hunt Partners of Dallas.

"There is something to be said for being in a music town," says Furst, who worked in radio programming for 30 years. An Austin address grants instant cachet in the music world, he says.

Furst says he used to hire people with radio backgrounds, but now prefers people with a wider range of musical taste, such as DJs and writers. An uncommon genre specialization also helps. Right now he's seeking someone who knows Greek music.

Schlager, the programmer for Abercrombie, DJs every weekend in one of the largest dance clubs in Seattle and hosts a show on a dance radio station there. He is a classically trained pianist and choral singer who also knows a great deal about jazz. A longtime writer for Billboard magazine, he is well connected within the music industry.

Schlager's Seattle colleague Jim Fisher has two degrees in music composition. He has worked with Victoria's Secret since 1998, when he was brought in as an expert in classical music, which complemented the baroque, romantic image the lingerie retailer had then. Today the stores have a more sleek and modern appearance, and the brand has associated itself with runways and high fashion, so the music has morphed into electronica. It's energetic but not clubby. It is unlikely to cause spontaneous dancing.

None of this is by accident. It demonstrates the analytical aspect of the programmer's job, requiring more than a love of music.

"The music part is terrific," says Fisher. "The real challenge is in relationships with clients. A lot of people don't know how to speak in musical terms, so they'll say, 'I want happy music,' or 'spirited' or 'sparkly.' The hard part is interpreting what they say they want, and then delivering it."

Who's minding the music?

A typical retail chain has someone in charge of visual merchandising. But in-store entertainment tends to be decided by a committee without a clear idea of its purpose. DMX helps retailers determine their priorities. What do they want their music to do? Is it there to make a statement? What is that statement? Is it helping create an altered reality, like their version of The World of Ralph Lauren? Or is it there simply to put people at ease?

Once those questions are answered, music programmers immerse themselves in the culture of the retailer/client. They note the demographics as well as consider the hypothetical customer the client has likely created to drive its merchandising decisions. They consider the visuals. For example, if a store is sleek and modern, with lots of white acrylic and chrome and glass, it lends itself to more synthetic sounds.

Programmers constantly audition new music. DMX receives hundreds of CDs from artists and labels every week, and since the work isn't necessarily hit-driven, they can dig deep into albums to find useful songs. They study charts, read trade publications and blogs, talk to fellow programmers and acquaintances who know a lot about music.

Theoretically, a store owner could just play music from a CD collection, but this would be illegal. A CD is supposed to be for personal use only. To play music for commercial purposes requires three layers of licensing to satisfy holders of publishing rights, master rights and mechanical rights. DMX streamlines the process by securing all the licenses, managing the compensations and giving the recording companies confidence that the music is adequately encrypted, i.e., can't be duplicated.

DMX, which originated in 1971, is an old player at this game. It helped establish the legal protocol for playing original-artist recordings in commercial spaces. Before then, the industry leader, Muzak, avoided licensing issues by producing its own tinny, orchestral versions of pop songs.

Muzak LLC has evolved away from that product, and it remains DMX's largest competitor. So you may call the DMX product "background music" or "foreground music," but you may not call it Muzak. (The name DMX stands for Digital Music eXperience. That a legally troubled rapper has the same name is merely an unfortunate coincidence.)

DMX is now persuading clients to migrate to their new, proprietary computer network so store employees won't have to switch out CDs. DMX can also customize music to a store's traffic patterns, according to times of day or days of the week, via this network.

DMX offers many services in addition to customized music. With a digital music library of 2 million songs, it also gives subscribers a choice of 500 channels of musical subgenres. This is a more competitive business because of satellite radio. The company also creates in-flight entertainment for airlines, audio features for Web sites, and on-hold music for anybody with a customer service line. And it produces compilation CDs for business promotions and giveaways.

The next big frontier is going to be imagery, the company says, as stores increasingly feature Flash animations or full-motion videos on plasma screens.

But the customized music business is still growing, Furst says, thanks to retailers that are working harder to differentiate their brands, and to nonretail businesses that are increasingly giving consideration to music and to giving consumers a consistent sensory experience in general. These include health clubs, auto dealerships and hotels.

Corporate America is largely steered by people who grew up with rock music and accept music as shorthand for emotional response and identity. Especially for youth-oriented businesses like Abercrombie & Fitch, music stands for hipness.

"If your music is too old," Furst says, "you're not cool."

jscheidnes@statesman.com; 445-3974