How Global Audio Symbols Transcend Borders And Sell What You Can’t See.

By Antonio F. Lewis, Creative Director of Multicultural Advertising at Studio Resonate (SiriusXM, Pandora, SoundCloud), and Manabu Shimada, Psychoacoustic Composer and Sonic Branding Expert

As Creative Director of Multicultural Advertising at Studio Resonate (SiriusXM, Pandora, SoundCloud), I’ve spent years exploring how sound can connect with audiences across diverse cultures. One concept that continually fascinates me is sonic priming—the idea that specific sounds can cue behaviors or associations across different settings - wink to Steve Keller . A striking example is the Japanese nursery rhyme "Akatombo," originally used in garbage trucks in Japan, which now also resonates in Djibouti, East Africa, where it serves the same purpose.

To learn more about this, I turned to my friend and collaborator, Manabu Shimada —a psychoacoustic composer and expert in sonic branding and sonic logos/identity. During one of our recent conversations, Manabu shared his insights on how sounds like "Akatombo" become embedded in daily routines, conditioning people to respond, even in new cultural settings. Originally associated with nostalgia in Japan, “Akatombo” has found a second life in Djibouti’s public services (Listen Here), where it now signals residents to bring out their garbage.

“These trucks were actually provided to Djibouti as part of Japan’s Official Development Assistance (ODA) program,” Manabu explained. “They carry both the Japanese and Djiboutian flags, and the melody serves as a practical auditory cue - pre-baked into the trucks. In Japan, ‘Akatombo’ signals people to take out their trash (Listen Here), and now it’s doing the same job in Djibouti, despite the cultural distance.” It’s fascinating how sound can transcend borders and create a shared behavioral cue.

This is where the concept of sonic priming really shines. It’s a powerful reminder of how sound can transcend its original cultural context and adapt seamlessly into another. What started as a melody designed to signal a daily task in Japan is now acting as a behavior-triggering sound in Djibouti. Over time, residents there too have become conditioned to respond to the sound in the same way people in Japan do.

In our conversation, Manabu shared even more insights into how sounds, when exported from one culture to another (even via a garbage truck), can adapt and integrate into new cultural contexts. These sounds don’t just function—they shape local behaviors through auditory cues. “What’s fascinating,” Manabu added, “is that while people in Djibouti might not have the same emotional attachment to ‘Akatombo’ as people in Japan do, they are still learning to associate it with a specific behavior. The sound’s core function remains the same, but its cultural context evolves.”

To explore this phenomenon further, we reflected on other examples of sonic priming and how it’s used in different cultures. For example, the familiar jingles of ice cream trucks in the U.S. are a form of sonic priming—children (and 40-year-old creative directors) hear the sound and immediately know that an ice cream truck is nearby, and they respond by rushing outside. In the same way, the garbage truck melody in Djibouti is now ingraining a similar behavior, demonstrating that sound, when used strategically, can transcend language and cultural boundaries to trigger a universal response.

Manabu’s perspective on sonic branding made me think more deeply about how sound can be designed to serve both functional and emotional roles. As a psychoacoustic composer, Manabu is constantly exploring how sound interacts with the brain, and how it can be harnessed to create specific feelings and responses in listeners. Sonic priming plays a huge part in this—it’s not just about conditioning people to recognize a sound, but to associate that sound with certain actions, values, or ideas.

For example, in Barranquilla, Colombia, where I’ve lived for 7 years, street vendors selling fish, fruits, and vegetables each have their own distinct clarion call. These calls serve as a form of sonic branding, allowing locals to identify who’s nearby and what they’re selling—even when they can’t see them. Since residents in high-rise buildings can’t spot the vendors from above, they rely on these recognizable shouts. If you hear the familiar call of your favorite vendor, you’re likely to rush downstairs because you associate that particular voice with their fresh avocados or unbeatable prices. Over time, these calls become tied to each vendor’s reputation: you know which calls promise quality and which ones might signal a seller with whom you’ve had a less favorable experience (Listen Here) and (Listen Here).

In this way, vendors differentiate their offerings through sound rather than sight—a concept I often discuss with major QSR brands that I consult with. Many of these brands believe that to sell food, especially something visually enticing like pizza, customers need to “see the pull of the cheese” or experience the visuals firsthand. Yet, as these Colombian vendors demonstrate, audio can be a powerful sales tool even when sight isn’t available. The familiar voice calls of these vendors have become trusted cues, prompting customers to take action based on sound alone. Over time, residents come to recognize which calls promise quality, like fresh avocados, and which ones might signal a vendor they’d prefer to avoid. This is a prime example of sonic priming—where sound alone cues people into specific actions, like hurrying outside to buy produce, based on their auditory connection to a particular vendor. It shows that audio, when used thoughtfully, can establish a strong and trusted bond, even for products we’re accustomed to seeing before buying.

Sonic priming, whether through Japanese garbage truck melodies or Colombian street vendor calls, shows the power of sound to create shared experiences, even when those sounds cross cultural boundaries. It demonstrates how deeply sound is woven into the fabric of daily life, shaping routines and actions. This power to condition and guide behavior through sound is something that brands and advertisers can harness as they seek to connect with diverse audiences.

sonic priming highlights sound’s ability to serve as a universal language. It’s not just about the sounds we hear—it’s about the associations we form with them. Whether it’s a melody from Japan signaling garbage collection in Djibouti or a street vendor’s call in Colombia helping locals identify the best produce, sound creates a unique bond across cultures. As we continue to explore the cultural power of audio in advertising, we see how sound can transcend borders, create connections, and prime behavior, shaping the way we experience and interact with the world around us.