UNCLTRD Vol. 16 / Apr 2024

Welcome back! We hope that you’re all managing to soak up the sun (finally) ahead of the bank holiday. This month, in tune with the British Spring season, we’re chatting about why it’s important for brands to show up (both culturally and physically) this festival season, dissecting the blending of ‘content into content’, and exploring ways in which we can stop travelling like a tourist.?

The Perfect Partnership

Festivals have long been a culture-driver and epicentre of community, they’re a testament to constructing imagined communities amongst disparate groups of people with shared interests. They celebrate heritage, innovation, culture, and perhaps most importantly, music. In a culture that values tangible, physical experiences over digital, it’s important to physically show up in these cultural spaces, to ingrain oneself into the communities that value it, and to truly understand why they’re so important (especially amidst a cost of living crisis, people are willing to save for these festival experiences).?

People love to bemoan online the ‘death’ of the festival, especially at the hands of corporate influence and social media. Every year, pictures circulate of stagnated crowds during headliner sets, more focussed on getting the perfect picture for Instagram over actually engaging in the community-building and shared social experiences of the festival. Stages are plastered in brand names, strange and often mysterious exclusive ‘VIP’ sections crop up, with little explanation of their significance. Influencers often get chalked up to blame, as brands have become less interested in engaging with the cultural heritage and community, and more about just getting their name seen. And what’s relatable about that? What is the incentive for your average young person to feel any sort of emotional connection to this brand?

A question arises: could experiential brand activations centred on real-life interactions breathe new life into the festival scene??

With such a wide range of festivals in the UK, each with its own community and cultural identity, it’s paramount to understand why it exists, and why it’s important. If you’re an expert in your category, and understand the true ethos that underpins a festival, you’ll be able to not only connect with the audience there, but to authentically promote your own cultural identity as a brand in a way that doesn’t feel corny or mid.

This may seem slightly obvious, but often it’s overlooked! Slapping a name on a stage will bring your name to a huge audience, but will they really understand who you are? More importantly, do you understand who they are, what they want? Handing out a sample can bring immediate satisfaction, but once it’s gone in the bin or used, what’s keeping your audience thinking about you?

It’s all about delivering a brand promise. How can one stay true to the culture and community of a festival without imposing unnecessary branding, while also communicating the brand message and identity? In other words, how do you move a partnership beyond a vanity project or purely functional to something exciting and ownable for festival-goers??

Brands who understand the importance of physically showing up for festivals, and authentically engaging with the culture, heritage, and traditions of the ‘scene’ win out. Festivals are meant to be fun, and with a generation of young people feeling constantly trapped within the digital world, festivals become a form of escapism. And because this generation is inundated with unprecedented levels of targeted advertising and general content online, their desire for the escapism and care-free fun at festivals is really important. Brands need festivals for exposure, and festivals need brands to augment the experience to something truly special - but this symbiotic relationship has been muddied by influencer-culture and changing perspectives online.?

Brands who understand the importance of physically showing up for festivals, and authentically engaging with the culture, heritage, and traditions of the ‘scene’ win out.

Brands can become part of the cultural conversation through authentic partnerships with festivals, so it’s important to go beyond just showing up and expecting people to come to you. You need to ingrain yourself into the community ethos of a festival, and show up relevantly. Selecting the right festival to partner with is equally paramount. By understanding the underlying ethos of a festival and its audience, brands can authentically promote their cultural identity without appearing forced or insincere. It's not merely about slapping a name on a stage but rather about fostering genuine connections and leaving a lasting impression on attendees.

Consider the example of Liquid Death at Live Nation festivals, which ingeniously promotes hydration in a festival setting, offering attendees access to branded "Country Clubs'' for relaxation and exclusive experiences (that also feel as transgressive as the brand is, with Horoscope readings and a live string quartet). Or, Adobe’s Art Garden installation during Lollapalooza. To celebrate the new look of the festival, Adobe partnered with three Chicago creators to show what they love most about the city and its culture. This showcased the brand’s love of creativity, while also connecting with the local cultural importance of the festival, thus creating a symbiotic relationship that made sense and didn’t feel overly contrived.??

You need to ingrain yourself into the community ethos of a festival, and show up relevantly.

Similarly, the collaboration between Vodafone and Glastonbury goes beyond promoting cellular connectivity; but actually encouraging the facilitation of human connection, an ethos found both with the famous festival and the service provider.

Successful brand partnerships extend beyond mere visibility; they require genuine engagement with the festival community and a commitment to enhancing the attendee experience. Festivals provide a unique opportunity for brands to connect with their target audience in a meaningful way, transcending traditional advertising methods.

Travelling Like A Tourist

Famously, everyone loves to travel, yet no one wants to travel like a tourist. But paradoxically, everyone ends up doing just that. Algorithms have usurped the role of traditional travel guides, relegating locals to the sidelines while boosting engagement with popular tourist traps. It’s difficult for a local to go viral with a recommendation (or whether they’d even WANT to expose their favourite spot like that, wanting to gate-keep it from the hoards of tourists who would only ruin the authenticity), but it’s easier than ever for people to find recommendations for where they want to travel, written by visitors, for other visitors.?

Social media platforms tantalise us with the promise of authentic cultural experiences and ‘hidden gems,’ presenting a facade of local living. Airbnb ignited the desire to live like a local, while social media inundated us with endless scrolls of curated experiences that never really ‘give local’. However, beneath the surface lies a stark reality: these experiences are often curated by fellow tourists, not locals themselves. As a result, genuine local perspectives are marginalised, overshadowed by the algorithm's preference for popular destinations. It all feels a bit bleak, and quite mid.?

Social media platforms tantalise us with the promise of authentic cultural experiences and ‘hidden gems,’ presenting a facade of local living.

Cities worldwide grapple with the consequences of over-tourism and the proliferation of short-term rental platforms, exacerbating the divide between locals and tourists. Famously, some are even turning away tourists. Travel, intended to broaden horizons and foster cultural exchange, instead traps us in a perpetual tourist bubble. Going to the same restaurants, experiences, bars, cafes, and more by tourists, for tourists. This phenomenon, known as cultural flattening, homogenised experiences and erodes the authenticity of travel.

Call me old fashioned, but growing up I used to love buying a travel guide from the shops before a trip. While they were never a perfect, objective source, they still felt like there was some sort of local influence in mind. This may be a bit of reminiscing on a past that never existed, haha, but it feels better than the alternative now. I can’t lie, I’m no better than anyone else! Of course before a trip it’s easy and interesting to look on TikTok or Insta for recs, but I often find myself disappointed by them. They always have a tinge of by-tourists, for-tourists, and give me a bit of the ick.?

This phenomenon, known as cultural flattening, homogenised experiences and erodes the authenticity of travel.

It’s a bit paradoxical for locals to share their favourite experiences. We live in a time of budget-friendly flights, more exposure to new places to travel, a globalisation that creates a sea-of-sameness across the world (you’re never more than 5 feet away from a McDonalds or a Starbucks), and a wealth of content online on things to do. It strips away some of the exploration, simply because it’s so much easier to take someone’s word for it. We’re in a culture so obsessed with reviews and feedback that it’s difficult to take a chance on something new, which is the entire ethos of travel!?

Even if locals were inclined to share their insights, the lack of flashy visuals akin to influencer content poses a significant barrier. When "pics or it didn't happen" reigns supreme, authenticity often takes a backseat to aesthetics.

To counteract this trend, a new wave of independent travel guides are emerging, harkening back to the ethos of traditional travel literature. Take Trippin.world, which prioritises diverse and local experiences outside of the mainstream, promoting an idea of travelling expanding cultural horizons rather than trying to replicate the comfort of home anywhere you go. Rather than marginalising local voices or perpetuating a voyeuristic gaze, these guides actively platform locals, particularly individuals from marginalised communities.

When "pics or it didn't happen" reigns supreme, authenticity often takes a backseat to aesthetics.

When travel can feel dominated (and shaped even) by algorithms and curated content, reclaiming the narrative of travel as a means of cultural exploration is more crucial than ever. By embracing local voices and fostering genuine connections, we can transcend the limitations of the tourist bubble and embark on truly meaningful journeys of discovery. We can move from tourist to traveller, from imagined online experiences to actually broadening our horizons and wanderlust. After all, the true essence of travel lies not in ticking off bucket list destinations, but in forging genuine connections and embracing the richness of human experience, wherever the journey may lead.

Bleeding Content Into Content

In today’s world, catering to Gen-Z requires a delicate dance between advertising and authenticity, especially when attempting to ‘go viral.’ This digitally-native generation has reshaped the marketing funnel, gravitating towards content over traditional advertising. As brands adapt to this shift, they are blending sponsored content seamlessly into regular content, leveraging social media platforms where Gen-Z’s seek inspiration, entertainment, and connection.

Gen-Z's advertising fatigue is evident, with 80% of Gen-Z agreeing that they are exposed to more brands and advertising than any other generation. Their primary channel is also their social hub, their source of entertainment, their learning centre, and so much more than just your average content channel. For brands to work online, they need to speak the language, to ingrain themselves so deeply into the content that it feels distinguished from a traditional ad. You hear of people making fun of ‘influencer brain rot,’ or the monotone voice influencers use to promote sponsored content and thus overconsumption. People want to be entertained, and Gen-Z understands that marketing and campaigns online will always be inevitable, so why not make it clever??

For brands to work online, they need ingrain themselves so deeply into the content that it feels distinguished from a traditional ad.

Take, for instance, Michael Cera’s partnership with Cerave, which began as a meme and evolved into branded content embraced by audiences. Cera's nonchalant endorsement of the product, captured in candid photographs, resonated with consumers, highlighting the power of authenticity in sponsored content. Or, that stupidly hilarious video of a guy doing a dance with the caption reading “the party ended hours ago and he’s still here.” Quickly, the sentiment became a meme across platforms, becoming a joke for anyone expressing interest in something for too long/doing something for too long. And then a few weeks later, the OG creator recreated the video with exact detail, except this time he was wearing sponsored clothing from Marc Jacobs (famous for their lo-fi style of marketing aesthetics). The clothes aren’t heavily branded, and one would simply think nothing of it, besides, maybe “oooh nice shirt diva.” Cynically, I ask myself as I mindlessly scroll for hours: is all of this just marketing now, is it all just staged?

We wrote a few months ago about manufacturing virality online. Culture nowadays feels boiled down to a trend, a meme, or a moment in time that spreads like wildfire across the internet.? So much of what’s online now, intended to go viral, is staged. It’s like this Influencers in the Wild video, or husbands ‘pranking’ their wives for the 150th time this month, even the JoJo Siwa rebrand feels calculated and intended as rage-bait for engagement.?

Gen-Z don’t blindly follow influencers, really. While we grew up being advertised to via our social platforms, most are savvy about who they follow and who they chose to engage with. It’s a generation that HATES being advertised to, yet loves influencers (to some degree…). As the world is set on fire around us, with income inequality skyrocketing to unfathomable heights, influencers are losing their allure. We’ve written about this before, the great crumblings of the old guards of influencers, whose out-of-touchness is beginning to infuriate a generation marked by a pandemic, war, housing crisis, and more. It’s easy to bristle at influencers complaining about how tough their life is while a ‘side-hustle-generation’ lives paycheck to paycheck.?

It doesn’t look like an ad or quack like an ad, but it is an ad. And instead of feeling ‘duped’ by a brand, if the content is genuinely quite funny and falls under the umbrella of consumable ‘content,’ it tends to be rewarded. Instead of disrupting feeds with stark advertising that feels too in your face, too on the nose, and thus ruining the ‘scrolling experience,’ the blending of content into content can make it feel more palatable, and thus more enjoyable for everyone.

Thanks for reading! Check out the rest of our insights here!