Local merchants play DJ for patrons

If the saying, “Discretion is the better part of valor” can be applied to the retail world, Costco and Target should get a gold medal. Someone at the corporate management level for those two stores has opted to bless their patrons with the serenity of silence as opposed endless barrage of ’50s and ’60s “hits,” or the brain-numbing drudgery recorded by the likes of Kenny G., Michael Bolton and their hordes of imitators.

When shopping, certainly not the most mentally stimulating of activities, I can’t help but be affected by the mood of the music chosen. I haven’t met one person, of any age or social demographic, that truly wants to hear Paul Anka sing his nasal, “I love … I love … I love … I love my calendar girl” ever again.

The fact is that the systems bought by merchants who use computers in any part of their operation are usually afforded some type of music program included as part of their monthly cost. Commercial-free satellite radio stations can be accessed to play any type of music selected, with an incredibly large inventory of songs. The songs are performed by artists, famous and relatively unknown, from any era or continent desired.

Plus, other sophisticated systems offer more than 60 genres of music to choose from with a touch of a keyboard. Management no longer has to pick appropriate CDs to play for their clientele. The benefit to all those readily available choices is that the consumer and the employee no longer have to tolerate an endless loop of the same tired songs, and never have to hear, “It’s another Tequila sunrise” for the 9,000th time.

Sonoma and Marin counties would both like to think of themselves as centers for forward, hip thinking. So why would the corporate powers-that-be premeditatedly force their chosen consumer base to hear the same music that’s playing in a mall somewhere in the boondocks of mid-America?

Of course, the world of technology has afforded us another answer: We just slap on our ear buds, hook up to our iPhones and, presto, we are deeply immersed in our own private world of music. But what about the rest of the world who aren’t that excited about giving Apple a percentage of our earnings? What about those of us who would like be able to hear someone we know say, “hello”?

I took a random “street” sampling of opinions with these results:

Ashley Allred, 35, a musician and part-time hairdresser, said: “There’s a used clothing store here in town, called Thrifty Hippy. I love that they actually play vinyl (records) for their patrons.”

Well, that’s one solution with a ton of old-school class, although it’s doubtful that the corporate powers-that-be would consider it as a viable option.

Dillon Gorman, 25, retail grocery worker, said: “I’d like to hear more soulful music like real rock, as opposed to the normal pop songs that get played to death on the radio.”

Unfortunately the pop and oldies fluff is being chosen for its innocuous and non-bombastic nature. Store owners and corporate franchise CEOs are deathly afraid of negative feedback, resulting in any decline of bottom line. Unfortunately for us, soulful music of any genre would be considered threatening for that reason. However, that line of thinking translates to an insult to the average shopper’s intelligence. Who wants to be a victim of profit-motivated, sound sedation techniques?

Deborah Halbert, marketing consultant, said: “I’m actually not that aware of the music playing while I’m shopping, so it’s not that much of an issue for me. But, I advise my retail clients that jazz instrumentals and classical music is the way to go.”

So that points to another potential solution. The merchant could hire a music professional to design a customized sound selection with the mood of the individual business as its focus.

I’ve been in a few stores where they’re actually putting some thought into their song selection, matching their choices to their targeted market. The results are overt. The overall mood in the store is lifted for both shoppers and workers alike. Sorry, Mr. Manilow, we can make it without you.

(Sheldon Bermont is a longtime Petaluma musician. He can be reached by email at smb@sbermont writer.com.)