Thoughts on experience design and whatever might be next. Usually. (Now merged with Intentional Audio, the online journal of sonic branding and identity.)
Every now and then we cook up something amazing at CP+B. Pringles Crunch Band fits that description. What it does: it converts your Pringles canister into an honest-to-goodness jambox, playable via your iPhone. And it's rife with gestural-interface goodness. Check it.
And then vote for it over at the Webbys if you're feeling the love: http://pv.webbyawards.com/ballot/136 ... much appreciated.
Let's peel back the layers of this onion and take a peek inside, shall we? Beautiful work for the Berlin Philharmonic.
... It's helpful to remember that the here and now is a remarkable moment.
Had a great time presenting this as part of the quick-paced Future 15 series at this year's SXSW Interactive.
Catchy title, but what's really here is one big idea and four little questions for creating long-term customer intimacy.
Unfortunately the format didn't allow for Q&A, so I'm happy to chat more on this here or via Twitter: @nfranus.
(Presentation slow to load? Check it over at Slideshare.)
Loved this piece in yesterday's NY Times Magazine on the role of sound in determining who survives in the wild—and who doesn't.
"Scientists have so little information about what landscapes should sound like without human interference that trying to correct the problem would be like a surgeon’s wielding a scalpel without knowing the parts of the body, let alone his patient’s symptoms. To restore ecosystems to acoustic health, researchers must determine, to the last raindrop, what compositions nature would play without us."
Bonus audio clips: bear with cubs, avalanche, a wood frog and more. Enjoy.
Coley Porter Bell has a nice wrap on last week's Ogilvy Labs Music Day — specifically highlighting the power of sound in all brand communications. Good to see that Julian Treasure and Ruth Simmons continue to bang the drum for sonic branding. Worth a peek.
There it is: yet another attempt to crack the magical code that will encourage you to buy more of that when you hear more of this.
It's intriguing that we're living in a time when we can measure the neurological impact of pretty much anything, especially what I want to buy. (Hey, even Pandora's mapped the music genome so I can have my next musical discoveries fully planned for me. No need to use my brain anymore.) And I'm fascinated with the opportunity of cracking these codes...
But there's a problem with this, one that some marketers have a hard time getting their heads around because it runs counter to spreadsheet living.
That problem is that we're unpredictable creatures. It's a fundamental part of our nature to be just that: unpredicatable. We're wired that way.
Sometimes we make decisions based on mood. Sometimes it's the personal influence of others, sometimes it's as simple as the weather. Even many of our most banal decisions (left or right? what's for dinner?) are emotional, rather than rational ones. And those emotional decisions don't usually have a scripted outcome.
And although predictablity keeps us by and large a safe and civil world in which we work and live and play, it's unpredictablity that affords us new ideas and adventures: a divergent turn brings us a new restaurant, an unexpected encounter, a new problem in need of a new solution.
We appreciate those happy accidents. Humanity needs it to evolve.
I'm all for exploring the hows and whys behind our individual and cultural behaviors. But the nicely packaged, problem-solved! feeling I get from some neuromarketers—and the tone in which they're revered in some branding books and business press—makes me wonder if we're asking the right questions.
Are we creating more predictable consumers? Or should we be focused simply on making life better for people?
I'd like to think the latter drives profits — just as the former would want. Perhaps the equation needs to be flipped.
