Bacardi jumps on ASMR bandwagon with ‘Sound of rum’ campaign
She no longer paid for Premium but she didn’t mind. The sensory ads didn’t disturb her playlist, they seemed to somehow enhance it. . She knew that the binaural birdsong was surround sound and that the smell of new-mown grass and the feel of the breeze were just synaesthetic tricks. Intellectually, she knew. Experentially? She suddenly felt like walking home. She felt fresh air and space. As she passed a yellowing poster with a graphic image of a tumour on the end of a cigarette she heard what sounded like a hospital waiting room and remembered she hadn’t wanted a cigarette.
She found it mildly disconcerting at first. She knew that the binaural birdsong was surround sound and that the smell of new-mown grass and the feel of the breeze were just synaesthetic tricks. Intellectually, she knew. Experentially? to be honest she just sat back and enjoyed it. Or more correctly, she carried on walking through the city. The bone conduction headphones augmenting the real sounds of the street, overlaying story upon experience.
It not only didn’t bother her, she felt quite smug about the fact she no longer paid for Premium. She’d seriously considered it when the scripted pseudo-radio ads changed the rhythm of her playlist, the sonic journey she’d so carefully curated for her commute. Now the gaps between the playlist tracks no longer jarred, they almost gelled. Mini soundscapes, seamlessly flowing.
She saw cars and busses, crowded streets and shops and stressed commuters vaping. But she felt fresh air and space. As the next few tracks played she decided to walk on to the next stop. It was only when she passed a yellowing poster with a graphic image of a tumour on the end of a cigarette that she remembered she still had a pack in her bag.
As she did, the next soundscape interlude began with sounds: a polyphony of foreign language voices drowning out what sounded like a hospital waiting room.