NO IDEA? LET'S GO TO NEW YORK!

The Bronx is up but the battery's down (apparently)

It was Friday night (sometime back in the last century).

Our keen as mustard account man, Mike Perry, came in to check on us. Specifically to check on our progress with the ‘Wrangler’ script.

We could have tried to convince him differently but not gonna lie the truth was, we had nothing. Nothing!

Simons Palmer DENTON Clemmow & Johnson was still only about 18 months old and frankly, we’d been busy trying to get our fledgling agency off the ground.

We were lucky to have landed the Wrangler account, and all they wanted to start with, was a commercial to go head-to-head with the latest Levi’s advert.

Sounds like not a big deal for an agency on the cusp of stellar success? It was a MASSIVE deal.

Levi’s were the sexiest ads on the box of the moment; beloved by punters, adored by young people; huge, award-winning, classic, classy, iconic to this day… did I mention the sexy bit?

But as I said, we had nothing. Zero. Zilch, Bugger-all!

We hadn’t really got stuck into the brief tbh, and maybe we had left it a little bit late: the first client presentation was Monday. Like, Monday-in-two-days Monday.

Mike was a LITTLE bit miffed that we had nothing to show; Wrangler was a relatively new client and he wanted to impress (as did we, but there were no ideas on the table. You can’t just make them up on the spot. I mean, I know you can and also that was exactly what we did for a living, but what I’m saying is; we hadn’t, the end).

Trying to soften the disappointment, I said optimistically, “If we were big thinkers, we’d be off to New York this weekend, for a bit of inspiration!”

Now let’s be clear. It’s not that I’d had an idea. I emphatically did NOT have an idea. I can’t impress upon you how much of a NO idea I had right then. But I did know that we did know what we definitely didn’t want. Basically, no ‘Levi’s’ stuff: slick, glossy, cleaned-up America. Definitely not that. Something else.

At that, Mike stood up and left the room without a word. Bit embarrassing. Single tear emoji.

Still, we had the weekend. Something would pop up ideas-wise. Tbh I found it always did under terrible, mind-bendingly intense pressure.

Cut back to the office. The door swings open and in comes Mike; a stupid grin all over his face. “Go home and get packed, we’re all going to New York.” Ah Mike. Love Mike.

And so it was. Chris Palmer, Mike and Me, jetting off for the weekend in a big plane bound for the BIG Apple. DAH dah daaa-da-da.

Now this was all back in the late 80’s so there was no such thing as a mobile phone that pretended to be a little TV. Or a “streaming device”. Or music. Oh no, sorry, yes - there was music. There was music, but you had to play it on a Walkman. A portable tape player for those of you still spitting out your milk teeth. Chris sat down, lit up a cigarette (only joking), rummaged in the plastic bag at his feet and produced a tape (one of the few dozen he’d brought with him) shoved it in a walkman, handed the whole contraption to me, and said “Here, listen to this…”

It was a track called ‘Crosstown Traffic’ by Jimi Hendrix. “Great, that’ll do” I said.

I’d love to give you the blow-by-blow of our adventures in New York, but we’re talking what happened 35 years ago - when I can’t remember what t-shirt I’m wearing literally right now without looking down. But I can give you the headlines.

Dirty. Loud. Sad. Joyful. Playful. Chaotic. Vibrant. Desperately exotic to us London geezers, and, more-than-occasionally, quite grim.

This was no ‘American Dream’ on display, the kind that came through our TV sets in the UK. It was ‘warts’n’all’, if ‘all’ turned out to be much wartier, bigger warts. I found it completely inspirational.

Graffiti everywhere. Everywhere! The craze for it hadn’t quite taken off in the UK, so it was total sensory overload for us. I remember seeing loads of messages stencilled onto the pavements wherever we went. It was amazing to me. I would come to borrow that later on, for the end line of the commercial.

Wherever we went, we shot a load of Super 8 film.That would prove to be useful reference too.

Near our hotel there was a quaint little billboard, pasted up with a HUGE, PAINTED, Keith Haring character staring down at us. Right there! Art on the streets! Everything was fabulous and massive and massively fabulous. We had a great time. OH! What a time. If I could remember anything, I’d tell you many more stories, but as it is, what I mainly remember is that we found ourselves flying back, Sunday night - full of footage and impressions and maybe over 40-odd cassette tapes in tow - but still no script!!!

In fact, we still had no script when we found ourselves back at Victoria Station and dragged ourselves into the taxi queue early Monday morning: after our whirlwind, whistle-stop sky-scraping safari, we were cream-crackered.

Oh sweet, quaint, village-y little London Town, with it’s thatched roofs and babbling brooks… no writing to be seen in public areas except on parking tickets, and buildings that only come up to your knee.

And yet, it wasn’t a totally fruitless journey. We did know a bit more on landing than when we took off. We knew we wanted a hero who lived in New York… and hey, who needs plot when you have… vibes BABY, VIBESSSS. Oh, my head.

We were suddenly next in line, about to be whisked to our meeting in Covent Garden. Chris and Mike piled in. I set foot inside the door and I casually said, “What if he’s a New York City cab driver?”

I looked at Chris and Mike, and they looked back at me. Six, bloodshot eyes lit up with joy like cherries in a slot machine. By the time we arrived, we had a fully-formed script, which had been authentically scribbled down in the back of a cab. Result!

Within a few weeks, as it turned out, we’d be back in Manhattan, shooting our first Wrangler advert for real, with director, Roger Lyons. Using that Hendrix music I’d heard on the plane, and finishing it all off with the pavement graffiti slogan, ‘Be More Than Just a Number’.

The shoot turned out to be it’s own adventure: key personnel were sacked, threats of fist fights over creative decisions, the director hand-holding the camera whilst standing up on the back of a moving motorbike with no helmet, harness or permission whatsoever. One of the roving cameras inadvertently captured a real knife attack on the street… (which was unusual for us at the time).

I seem to remember there being over 20 hours of rushes to wade through, once it was in the can.

Did we have 3 or 4 editors working on it at the end? I’ve forgotten now.

At the time if was like no other advert in any break, we liked that about it.

The punters seemed to like it too.

And when it came to D&AD they didn’t really know what to do with it so they gave it a ‘commendation’. (And I don’t think anyone’s had one since).

New York, New York, definitely turned out to be a bloody good, bloody good, idea in the end.

MDEsq x.

CREDITS

Art Director - Mark Denton Esq.

Copywriter - Chris Palmer

Director - Roger Lyons