When you work in advertising long enough, you see just about everything; or, more accurately, everything over again.

New ideas are few and far between. Take a look at any billboard-laden street and you'll see the same tired notions redressed a hundred different ways from last Sunday.

Recently, there's been a disturbing trend in advertising: the growing use of musicians. Major musicians, ones who defined generations. Ones who immortalized freedom. Ones who gave us solace, hope and an escape from the overbearing commercial machine in which we all live.

True, celebrity endorsements are nothing new. However, they've usually been relegated to the "where are they now?" file.

Today, it's a different story. Many legitimate, genuine, brilliant, and financially successful, contemporary musicians are selling out. This is nothing short of tragic.

I'd say this trend started with Microsoft's purchase of the Rolling Stones hit "Start Me Up" for $13 million (which was an arbitrary joke on the part of Mick Jagger and Keith Richards who figured no one would pay such a ludicrous amount for a 30-second sound bite).

Since then, we have seen many celebrated talents cross the line from star to cheesy salesperson.

My first personal killer was Lenny Kravitz, the god-fearing, modern soul-freedom icon who made it big with "Let Love Rule." I was paralyzed when he appeared on Nissan ads, adding the refrain: "The Pathfinder rules."

The list has now grown to epic proportions including: The Who ("You Might Get Fooled Again," this time into a gas-guzzling SUV); Sting (destroying the Amazon he helped save in the new sleek vehicle he's touting); Sheryl Crow ("You're An Original" ... providing you drive a Jeep).

There's more: Kris Kristofferson and Willie Nelson (Nashville "outlaws" now uniformly clad in white Gap T-shirts); B.B. King (fries with that burger?); the Beach Boys ("Surfin' G.A.P."); and Led Zeppelin ("Been A Long Time Since I Drove A Cadillac").

The list, unfortunately, goes on. I won't even include the new breed (you know who they are), which has ads for soft drinks and automakers shot before their videos hit MTV.

Make no mistake; these artists know that rock 'n' roll is not about car ads. With so much money at stake, however, the rules appear to be changing, leaving us asking: Why are they paid so much?

Advertising is "uncooling" that which used to be cool, leaving a quintessential expression of freedom hanging out to dry.

Simply put, advertisers have run into the fundamental reality of their craft. Advertising, despite everything it espouses to be, is not cool. It never has been. It never will be. It is what it is. Not to say that it can't be clever, entertaining or interesting — but advertising will never define cool.

A slick vodka ad is no different than a vacuum cleaner sales pitch. The vodka actor or model is just wearing a nicer suit.

But we, the consumers, have the logical desire to capture the essence of cool, which happens to be ... The musician. The renegade. The reckless abandon that can be found only in art that is free from commerce.

You can't blame the advertisers. And unfortunately, advertisers are being quite successful in capturing that cool — at great financial cost, and an even greater moral and spiritual one.

Corporations today are powerful enough, it appears, to coerce brilliant musicians into making a mockery of themselves.

Evidently, success and artistic integrity aren't enough. Those qualities take a back seat to hypocrisy and greed.

The irony is that as everyone jumps on the bandwagon, this subtle advertising trick will wear itself out. Celebrity endorsements will become the norm.

The high cost of hiring big stars will be passed on to the consumer and an art form that once represented freedom will be reduced to yet another sales tool.

Advertising is uncooling that which used to be cool.

Robby Krieger of The Doors captured this notion quite poignantly. In the face of more than $4.5 million in recent advertising offers, he had this to say:

"When I heard from one fan that our songs saved him from committing suicide, I realized that's it — we can't sell off these songs."

Unfortunately, such gallantry is not the norm and it's frightening to chart the collective shift in attitudes towards music.

Consider Cameron Crowe's quote from Led Zeppelin's 1990 box set: "... They went out on top ... with complete integrity. There would be no downward slide, no selling of `Whole Lotta Love' to a detergent company."

John Bonham must be rolling over in his grave.

Thanks to the marriage of eager advertisers and greedy musicians, a mainstream art form that once inspired change and vision may one day truly be dead.

The worst part is that most people seem quite content in burying themselves right along with it.

Jake Dudas is an award-winning advertising copywriter and creative director. He has also worked as an audio engineer on platinum Canadian albums.

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