Josh Rabinowitz, Cannes delegate
Friday, June 20, 2008 (part two) - Airport, 9:30 a.m.
Couldn't sleep, too charged from a great previous day, finally drifted off, maybe got two restful hours.
Did I achieve my Cannes goals?
I think the musical word has been spread a bunch at Cannes 2008. How could you go wrong through one of the great conduits/spreaders, ambassadors, vocalists, interpeters of popular music itself, Tony Bennett, as your messenger?
I did see many of my old friends, as well as a few of my co-jurists from 2006 Radio jury. Made a few nice acquaintances as well.
I do have a topic for my Billboard piece, which I'll hopefully crank out on the plane.
I do have two really cool ad-industry players in my seating section—JKT (aka Joyce King Thomas) and IPG (aka Michael Roth).
I will have trouble topping this year's seminar, but I will embrace the challenge. Is there a level above "top-shelf"?
I hope to perfect (with perspicacity) the creation, placement and deployment of the late-night sandwich, although I couldn't imagine topping this year's sandwich experience ever.
Six bottles of rosé were carefully woven into my clothes and bag—fingers firmly crossed on non-breakage.
Til next year!
Friday, June 20, 2008 (part one) - Gutter Bar, 3:33 a.m. A veritable plethora of advertising goodness today.
Thursday, starting at 2 a.m.—25.5 hrs ago—as is my custom, I purchased
the late-night sandwich, a sandwich which is the safety net, the fuel
that keeps you strong, that allows you to carry onwards through a long
night of drinking. The key is, you hide it in the bushes, and eat it
when it's needed. This year I advanced the late-night sandwich, whereby
I put it on ice in a styrofoam container I had purchased from a wine
store earlier in the day. As I went to it at 5 a.m., a man who saw me
eating it started talking to me. He then offered: "If you're hungry,
come with me, I have a cook at home." Bewildered, I looked carefully
into the guy's eyes and realized it was a famous record producer whom I
recognized from a magazine photo (and swore to that I wouldn't divulge
his name), and knew way too much about.
I said "Really, dude." I
accepted his kind offer and jumped into his BMW convertible and then we
drove up into the hills near Antibes.
He did have a cook, and a barrell of chilled rosé (I'm not lying!), which he served in a ceramic pitcher.
His cook made us pizzas in a brick oven (truth!). It had pasta and ham
on it, and he fried an egg and put only the yolk on it. We added hot,
spicy oil and waxed nostalgic about a Peter Gabriel record he had
produced.
I played him my work on my Treo (see, it pays to
always have your reel on your mobile). What a gas ... we talked and
talked and ate and drank. ... He drove me home at 9 a.m., and I went to
sleep. Crazy cool.
I woke and realized I had left my sunglasses at
the restaurant of the Human dinner from earlier that day. These glasses
had serious advertising history: I got them from Tom Hajdu of
tomandandy, who got them from Mark Pellington, who got them from Hank
Corwin, who got them from Oliver Stone.
I went back to the
restaurant, but they were nowhere to be found. As I sweatily and sadly
walked back along the Coisette toward the Palais, a mile from the
restaurant, the manager, who was helping me look for them, honked at me
from his car and, shockingly, handed the shades to me. Ad karma, baby!
Good things come in threes. Then I attended the Tony Bennett private
concert—it was just amazing. Tony's voice, style, and persona—sui
generis. Grown men cried. Went backstage, and he thanked me for the
seminar from the day before. What a true gentleman.
Hit the USA Today dinner and enjoyed a sumptuous meal and a wonderful array of ad players.
Then to the Carlton, then to the Sony, Yahoo penthouse. Susie Essman
(from Curb Your Enthusiasm) was doing stand-up, and she tore it up.
Dirty and raw as hell!
Then to the Gutter Bar.
Everyone I saw
at the Gutter said that having Tony Bennett at Cannes made it the best
Cannes they had ever had—no shit, although many of them were toasted.
But he did add something very meaningful to the Cannes Lions sensation.
Got to sleep and get up in 4 hours.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
- Early wakeup, ride into town, through horrendous traffic. Hit the
Palais and start prepping for music seminar. Seems like there's more
people in the Palais than I've ever seen.
Tony arrives on time. As
does his son Danny. As does the crowd, and the Debussy is completely
full. 1,200 folks. Not bad. The prep went well. We put postcards in
every Cannes delegate bag, had a full page ad in the Cannes Daily,
postered around the Palais, and had nice press mentions in various
outlets, including USA Today. PR helps, but then again, this is Tony
Bennett.
My intro is swell. People were focused on it. The
seminar discussion went very well, Tony Bennett received a standing O
on and off the stage. Lots of photographers shooting away. Felt like an
event, and it was. Good Q&A, great crowd response, seemed like
people got a lot out of it.
Next off to the Colombe D'Or for lunch with Tony, his wife and crew.
He was gracious and sagacious. People asked for autographs incessantly,
and he oblidged. At lunch he sketched a bunch, and we rapped about
jazz, education, children and the trombone.
Then we went to the home of a his friend, the billionaire John Kludge, which was beyond stunning. Beyond beyond.
Rushed back to Cannes, checked into my hotel, and hit dinner with Human. Lots o' players at the meal.
Lie down for a second.
Now in my fifth year, Cannes seems to be a bit too much of a scene that
in a way I'm not too sure I really want to partake in. The novelty has
worn off on me. I was in Cannes in January for Midem, and I feel as if
the city has nothing new or exciting to offer. Being removed from the
award scene, and not judging, I feel as if I'm spreading the musical
word, but not an essential part of the mix.
Then I woke up and realized I was dreaming—this place rocks, and I'm going out to get some more!
Monday, June 16, 2008 -
After a three-hour-delayed flight, I arrived at Nice and waited for 45
minutes at baggage only to find that my bag, which contained all my
vital shit (i.e., underwear, shorts, bathing suit, toiletries,
sunblock), including my DVDs for the Tony Bennett event, hadn't even
made it out of JFK. Bummer!
As one who is not of the confronting
nature, I did my best to let the Delta/Air France agent know that this
wasn't cool for me. They could've really given two shits. Thus, I hit
my hotel, stressed to the nines.
It's hard to confront when your
brain is at 33 percent capacity, but I carried on. Crashed at the pool
in a bathing suit that the hotel actually lent me—not very flattering.
Reminded me of a Seinfeld episode—my boys aren't sure they want to
share with your boys ...
Awoke to Tim Mellors, vice chairman of
Grey and worldwide chief creative dude, saying hey. We chatted, and
chatted, which is always an enjoyable endeavor.
Walked around,
steaming about my luggage, calling and e-mailing anyone who may be
coming over on the flight tomorrow, seeing if they were willing to be
my carrier of duped DVDs for the seminar. Annoying, especially if
you're jetlagged like a mofo.
Naps, complete with drool, accompanied by potent anxiety dreams about late papers in college, and being nude in public. Ouch.
Lunch, wine, wine, dinner, wine. Wine, jetlag, conference calls akimbo.
Jetlag is a bitch.
May tomorrow be a perfect day ...
Sunday, June 15, 2008 - Cannes '08
promises much excitement and interest for me. This year's Grey Music
Seminar, which I put together, will feature the Bennetts—Tony and
Danny. Yes, Tony Bennett. Danny is his son, and has guided his father's
career for the last 30 years. And what a job Danny has done.
Tony Bennett (aka Antonio Benedetto). What a thrill. What a voice, and
the cat can really swing, a rare quality indeed! Tony may be one of the
most famous non-infamous people in the world these days. An early
advocate of civil rights, Queens born and bred, major jazz cred, and
vitality in the music business into his 80s. That's a grand slam. I can
only hope for one crumb of a sliver of an iota of that (although I did
grow up in Queens for seven years—that gives me some cred).
Rushed
to the flight from a Father's Day beach outing with my wife and kids,
and of course the flight was quite late. I type as I await takeoff, now
over an hour and a half from the scheduled departure time.
Not
many recognizable faces in the lounge, nor on the plane. It's a bit
early for many of the U.S. ad bigwigs (unless they're on juries) to be
heading to the land of sun, buttery delicious cuisine, rosé, overpriced
everything, super schmoozing, and late-night boozing. Rumor has it that
the bars and hotels boost their prices for Cannes Lions even more so
than for the film festival.
I gladly spotted and rapped with Dickey Abedon of Uncle Lefty, a
down-to-earth individual, a decent man, a mellow dude, and a cool rep.
Yes, a cool rep. A rarity. A diamond in the rough.
My Cannes quest this year is to spread the musical word, derive some
fodder and insight for my Billboard column, see some friends I haven't
seen, make some cool new ones, hopefully reconnect with some of my
fellow jury members from Cannes '06, and bring back bottles of wine
without them breaking in my suitcase—something I thus far have been
unable to do.
Also, to sleep like a baby on the flight. Another red wine, please!
—Josh Rabinowitz is director of music at Grey Worldwide and a Cannes delegate.
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