HOW TO WIN VOTES AND INFLUENCE PEOPLE:
IZ Burns on the Art of Creating Campaign Music
At Carousel Bar in late January we met IZ Burns,—touring musician, music director, producer, and head of “Underscore Laboratories,”—for a drink to discuss his work creating music for campaign advertisements. Unbeknownst to us he was partaking in Dry January. Our Bad. But the place has good feng shui and plush booths so everyone was comfortable as we talked through his background in neuroscience, the current state of electoral politics, Artificial Intelligence stealing all of our jobs, how we all started off as wide-eyed and bushy tailed political junkies, and how jaded and cynical we’ve all become.
First, can you describe your job? Sorry—do you still work there?
IZ: Sometimes. I go there on and off and I’m a contractor when I’m not on full time. The job is that I was sometimes the in-house supervisor and composer for political media at [Company Name], a political marketing firm. The partners and producers are in charge of making political ads and I was brought on specifically to work with them on the musical aspects of their media. And I approach it from the lens of my background as a professional musician, and also my background as a neuroscience student. So, understanding how music theory influences experience, sentiment, and conception. It’s a fun time.
Can you talk a bit more about your background and your personal creative practice?
IZ: I grew up in Chicago. My father is a professional musician, and my twin brother and I are both professional musicians. I started playing at five years old. My brother’s a drummer, and I play trumpet and other instruments. I started producing music professionally when I was sixteen or fifteen or so. And I dropped out of college.
Where’d you go?
IZ: I went to Skidmore for one semester, and then I dropped out and went back to Chicago for a few years to focus on music. And then I went back to college at NYU Gallatin to study developmental and cognitive neuroscience in music and critical decision making in the creative arts, which then influenced the rest of my life. And now I’m a touring musician and music director and producer, but I run a creative strategy and production company called “Underscore Laboratories, which is basically a full service production company. People, artists, musicians, managers, and companies come to us either for music, production, or if they’re planning an event. We kind of exist as a problem solving company for the creative world.
How do you go about creating music for campaign ads?
IZ: I mean, it’s so subjective to the campaign. That’s the hard part–and the fun part. Sometimes you’re making some, like, really corporate uplifting “We’re happy! We’re gonna sell you ourselves!” music, and sometimes I’ve done music for social media campaigns that’s just like “Make some hip hop.” Like, okay, great, cool. “You like afrobeat? Yes, I like afrobeat. I’ll make a recording for you.” Something like that.
It really depends on both the audience and voter base you’re trying to reach, and also what type of media you’re putting out–like, is this just on Instagram? Is this a television ad? Is this an ad for Hulu? All those things are gonna matter because your consumer base is gonna change, your voter base is gonna change, and each spot–meaning, each commercial–has a different vibe behind it. There’s always a script, and there’s always something they’re trying to achieve with it.
How does the audience base change the way that you approach creating music for campaign ads?
IZ: A lot of it’s age. Younger people are gonna be far more inclined to vote for someone if they hear something that sounds relatively similar to something they listen to on a daily basis. That’s how I think about it. A lot of it’s about the charts, but I’m not sitting there scrolling through charts being like “I need to make a song that sounds like Doja Cat to make sure Greg Abbott doesn’t win in Texas.”
What I am thinking about is a general genre approach. If you think about commercials, every commercial on TV influences each other. Whatever runs the most and has the most positive community reviews is gonna continue to run. So when I think about that, I think “Am I making a political ad that wants to be ridiculous?” Because I’ve worked on ads that have the sole goal of being like “What the hell’s going on this feels so cartoonish.” But think about the Burger King song. Everyone knows the words, it’s a strong commercial, it’s ridiculous, it’s an earworm, and people are more inclined to engage with it. Whether they buy the food, it doesn't really matter.
They would make goofy ads like that at [company name]?
IZ: It depends. They are, I think, the best political media company in the world. They’re so clean. It’s a brilliant system—every specific spot they create is gonna be specifically designed to fit each client’s message. It’s never gonna be just if you wanna run for president this is what you should do. It’s gonna be like, “what’s your platform, what community are you from, what’s your background,” then we can tell your story that way, and then from there we can make music that fits.
I worked on a Juneteenth spot for a candidate, which didn’t necessarily have anything to do with her platform. But it’s important to make sure there’s media out there that passes on candidates' ideals in a general sense and shows their backgrounds. My colleagues would talk to her and ask how she wants to be portrayed, and then I can go in and say “Alright, here are some ideas I have. Do you feel that this accurately represents you and appropriately connects you with your audience?” And hopefully the answer is yes, sometimes it’s no, but it’s about understanding the creative background that attaches to our cultures.
I grew up Jewish. And there are definitely Jewish American candidates who utilize their culture and the accompanying music in a way to appeal to people like me. And I think that’s a very strong and important thing when you’re trying to have political ideas come across because they can become so convoluted. But if you have media and creativity that supports it, it’s far easier to engage.
In your experience, is it more common for candidates whose identities fall outside of the “white mainstream Christian” American tradition to lean into their identities with their music choices, or to push against it to try and paint themselves as part of the narrative?
IZ: I can’t say. I think it depends on the party. It depends on the political race. It depends on the year. And at the risk of overstepping, I would say it’s so subjective to the individual. Cause, you know, especially thinking about what state you’re from. If you’re, like, a black candidate from the middle of nowhere Iowa running for office, it’s gonna be a lot easier to appeal to your voter base if you’re talking about your passion for farming, just the way the majority of white people farmers in Iowa feel the same way. As opposed to, like, “I’m the one black person in Iowa. I’m different.”
“Let me get some hip hop.”
IZ: Right. And I think there have been times where I’ve been asked to do things that feel too on the nose, and I’m like “this can immediately come off as disingenuous, or racist.” Identity politics is a very heavy phrase to use, but oftentimes it feels that there’s so much identity politics in these races and in this media that sometimes it feels like it overshadows the issues at hand. And so my goal always is to try and be a supporting member of the team and not speak for anyone. Because at the end of the day, the music can only say so much.
You mentioned earlier that you draw from your background as a neuroscience student when you’re creating music for campaign advertisements. How exactly does neuroscience influence your process?
IZ: There’s some really basic neuroscience that kind of dictates emotional response to sound–texture, chord progression, scale degree within that chord progression, and intervals between notes. You have your happy stuff–your major chords; your sad stuff–your minor chords, your foreboding things, your uncomfortable things–which is like, a diminished chord. And so properly placing those elements can really add weight to the voiceover in a commercial or the visuals in a commercial and make sure the viewer is attached. It’s like scoring a film, but instead of it being 2 hours it’s 2 minutes, 3 minutes at most.
I did an independent research project where I asked either 50 or 100 people, all of whom work in music, a series of questions like “what music makes you happy?” “What music makes you sad?” “What sound makes you feel fear?” You know, “What song is nostalgic for you and can you tell me why?” And then I looked into the bones of that music to figure out what I think in this music changes their experience. There are general things, specific intervals and specific chord progressions, that are going to elicit a certain response. And I really wanted to use that to make sure that this media was as strong as possible.
Hearing music and experiencing music feels like such an individualized and emotional experience. It’s interesting that there are these scientific factors in our brain that are compelling us to have certain reactions.
IZ: Absolutely.
Does it feel like manipulation?
IZ: Yeah totally. It makes someone have a feeling! But I guess my whole job is to make a sound and to make someone feel something, so at the end of the day I have to go based on my morals. I mean, a lot of it is me approaching it from my own ethical and moral code, as well as wanting to make money because I have to live in a capitalist structure. Which is tough.
So, in contrast, what type of music would you typically be making for your own pleasure?
IZ: It depends. There was a long stint of time where I didn’t make music at all. I was burnt out, I’d been spending all my time in recording studios, I wasn’t touring at the time, I was in classes at NYU and I was like, I can’t do it. And sometimes I’d just be making music because it was cathartic, it was a nice release.
And sometimes it was like, okay, I was hired as the producer for this session to go make music for this artist, and my goal is to realize what they want. I want to make it sound really good in my ears and in other people’s ears, and I want to do it well enough to continue doing this as a job, cause it’s a huge part of my life and I love the fact that, all things considered, I can live off making music.
But with political spots the question becomes, do I support this candidate as an individual? Do I want to be associated with them? I’ve done jobs where I will not have my name on it. And not because they’re morally reprehensible–I’m not out here, like, making music for the Trump campaign or anything. Maybe I just don’t want to necessarily be associated with them because as a creative person and as an artist and a supporter for many different artists with my work, I want to ensure that what I’m attached to, I agree with. Or I like. Sometimes it’s as simple as I don’t necessarily love what I did with that song. It’s out, you know, that is part of my life but it’s not something that I want to broadcast myself being a part of necessarily.
In a regular 9-5 office job where you’re not supposed to necessarily love your work—it’s just a paycheck, and it doesn't really have the same connotations as your work—
IZ: And I love doing that work. I really do. I really like making those commercials—so, I was brought on as a music supervisor and a composer and I ended up also helping lead the execution of media for a small political action committee. I love working. I love working with all of those people, and I really do support what they want to do so I love that this can be a part of my life. It can also be complicated when I’m working to get someone elected who is a chief of police.
Is there ever any dissonance between doing what you love and the ends that it might create?
IZ: Yeah, I mean—yeah, there’s some cognitive dissonance and I acknowledge that. And part of that for me is like, how much am I willing to do for my paycheck and for the political party that I also generally align with. So even if I don’t love this candidate overall, do they beat the alternative? Are they the better devil? Will they make the change that I desire? Usually the answer is yes with Democrats.
There was a candidate I loved in Massachusetts and I composed a full score for her announcement video and she’s brilliant. And she approached politics from an angle that I appreciated. So sometimes I’m overjoyed and sometimes I’m just saying “the good generally outweighs the bad.” There’s been no time where I’ve been like “this is wrong.” And I think that’s a general conundrum for a lot of people working in politics in general.
If you wanna be a campaign manager, you have to find a client, and your client may not reflect your own ideals. But you have to make those sacrifices to ensure that things change. And that’s how I also feel about music. If there are elements that I put in the music for these commercials that sometimes might be too much or too little and somebody from the company or the client says, “we want to change this here, and this is why,” you don’t come back and say “well this is why I have it,” you just say “okay, I’ll change it.” In a nutshell, politics is compromise. Which is definitely not considered these days.
That’s very true. It can be so hard though, especially when—I’ll speak for myself. At this point, I’m pretty jaded by electoral politics and I just feel like the entire system is completely rigged and it just is about wealth above all else and power and it’s hard to feel like either side has my best interest at heart.
IZ: Totally, it’s heartbreaking. It’s really heartbreaking and it’s exhausting. I used to watch every State of the Union and every debate and I was so deep into it. For half of my junior year in high school, I went to a program called the School for Ethics and Global Leadership to go study politics in DC on Capitol Hill. Nobody at my high school knew that I liked politics, I was like a skater music kid. Everyone was like “you probably do drugs,” and I was like “I’m literally straight edge but okay.”
And so I went there and I fell deeply in love with politics. I met the former Prime Minister of Palestine and I went to Congress and I had all these amazing experiences and it got me so deep into it. After a certain amount of time spent working professionally in the industry you do get jaded, and you do get burnt out. Sometimes my mom calls me and she’s like “did you listen to the debate” and I’m like “no dude.” I want to. I want to be engaged and I want to be passionate but also, look at who we have right now.
I do like this one candidate running for president right now who nobody knows about, Dean Phillips. I like his platform more than I like Biden running again, but wouldn't individually campaign for the guy.
Fiona: In high school my AP Gov class took a trip to DC and we ran into Bernie Sanders and I got a picture with him and I cried. I was so overjoyed from meeting him and now I don’t even know if I’m gonna vote. It’s terrible.
IZ: Yeah, it’s very disillusioning. I don’t blame you. What I would say is definitely vote because it’s good but also at the end of the day, do I want to vote for Joe Biden?
Zoe: I’m just like, can I morally vote for somebody who is actually inflicting genocide?
Fiona: And it makes me wonder if—is it doing more to not vote in a way if enough people don’t vote and I feel like there’s gonna be a lot of people in the 18-24 demographic, dedicated democrats, who aren’t gonna vote because they can’t bring themselves to vote for Joe Biden.
IZ: And Dean Phillips is not gonna get the nomination.
Fiona: No, and he’s not gonna win. But, like, is that gonna be more effective to signal to the democratic party that things have to change than giving a reluctant vote to Biden?
IZ: That’s a great question and I ask myself that a lot. I’m about to be 26, and a lot of the people that I spend time with are older than me. And a lot of these kids' parents were from other countries, moved to the states, and became very engaged citizens in politics. Like my roommate, his parents are Nigerian and they are so engaged in American politics and are so keen on him and his brother voting. My parents–my family goes back in the US many generations surprisingly for a European Jew but I have always been told I have to vote. And then one of my best friends–his dad is from Poland and was thrown in political prison. He was a political prisoner in Poland for two things. The first was smuggling anti-tankie literature across the border into Poland. And also, there was conscription under the USSR and he and his buddies buried their weapons under the ground so they wouldn’t have to shoot anybody in their community. So he was thrown into military prison. And he came to the United States and owns more guns than I can count. I shoot guns with him all the time. It’s super fun. But really, the thing is that he loved Bernie, and when Bernie left the race he voted for Trump.
Wow.
IZ: And a lot of my friends did that too, because we liked what Bernie stood for in the personal rights campaign. The idea of “let me do whatever the fuck I want and fuck off” is really effective and so cogent for young people and middle aged or older people, and a lot of people who came to this country and are now super politically involved don’t like the idea of mass corporations running their lives. And then, the thing is, if you’re a moderate, people aren’t gonna like you because you don’t stand as much for anything. You stand for looking good.
Fiona: We were both talking about this thing that we read the other day that was basically like—even though Trump is so outlandishly wealthy and he’s not really a man of the people in any way shape or form, he still seems way more authentic than any other politician because he acknowledges that, and he’s honest about who he is as a person.
Zoe: And people aren’t as stupid as politicians think. The regular working person is able to see through inauthenticity. Like, Joe Biden, who is actually named Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. going by Joe and being like, “I’m just like you!”
Fiona: At least Trump comes out with it.
Zoe: Yeah, he’s correctly like “I’m not just like you, I’m better.”
Fiona: Yeah, and he’s like “I have a gold plated toilet.”
IZ: I agree entirely and I think you guys are spot on. I think one of the interesting things about Trump as a candidate is that people want to be him and people also want to be like him. They want to be wealthy, they want to be successful, they want to be well-connected, they want to do whatever the fuck they want. They want that notoriety and that respect for just doing whatever the fuck they want. A lot of people in America, and I think myself included, want to be able to do what I want and I want my family and friends to be safe in doing what they want to do. And a lot of that comes down to existing with a certain identity. Trans people being able to live in the United States and having the exact same rights as the rest of us, people of color, queer folks in general, the list goes on. And that’s where you see that horseshoe effect, you know, if you go far left enough you get your guns back. And if you pass severe leftist and severe alt-right, you’re at this singularity. The fact stands that for the every man—pardon the gendered term—voter, they’re relatively similar to each other.
The establishment republicans and the establishment democrats are basically right next to each other, too.
IZ: Oh yeah, they’re all the same.
Do you think that there’s any chance for an emergent party realignment or something like that? Or do you think we’re stuck with republicans and democrats as they are?
IZ: I do. Maybe in about 15 years.
Interesting. Why 15?
IZ: Because the median age in Congress is generally much older.
We just need to wait for them to all die.
IZ: Yeah. Absolutely. The thing also is that we have to figure out a way for people our age to become engaged enough now so that they have a platform in 10-15 years. I’ll be able to run for president in 10 years.
Are you going to?
IZ: No. There was a time where I was like, maybe I wanna do that, and then I was like “let me be chief of staff, or let me do something behind the scenes” and fortify a strong political identity in a really strong system.
Well, now you’re doing something that’s very behind the scenes and also very impactful. Do you feel like when you’re watching ads or a commercial on TV you view it differently, more mechanically?
IZ: Totally. I mean, a lot of times I’ll be sitting on my computer and an ad will come up and I’ll be like “that’s a bad ad. And here’s why I think it’s a bad ad.”
Do you feel like ads work on you anymore?
IZ: Yes. A great ad works on me, and a great ad will always work on me. That’s the darkness of capitalism, and the simultaneous beauty of creativity.
What makes a great ad?
IZ: I worked with one client that doesn’t endorse candidates, only smears others. So they were a democratic oriented political action committee but all they will do is voice their discontent for someone else.
And that’s effective?
IZ: Everything I worked on I won for that political action committee. And that was like City Council or State Council for the state of Wisconsin, which is all well and good. But also, Wisconsin was unabashedly blue for so long and now it’s purple if not red. So those lower level things can do something. If we have the right people who are making decisions for each state within that state, then I’m happy. But yeah, ads still do work on me. This one ad–beautiful, the storytelling was amazing, the music was gorgeous, and it was shot perfectly. I got tingles. I was like holy shit, and I think if I still watch it I would get goosebumps because I’d be like that was such brilliant storytelling, and then I’d be like “fuck! This is money! This is truly mass manipulation tactics.”
Are the smear ones where they have the guy with the really deep voice and they’re like (deep voice) “Donald Trump doesn’t have your best interests at heart...”
IZ: Yeah. Or I was sourcing assess and I found, like, a CGI rendering of a handgun in a school locker, and I’m like “oh this will fucking work.” And it did.
Woah.
IZ: Like, one classroom looks all pretty, and then the exact same frame of the classroom is in shambles. And then you have an overlay of, like, “this person doesn’t support background checks for firearms” or something like that.
So you’re playing on people’s deepest fears.
IZ: Always. A lot of this is fear.
And that’s where the neuroscience comes in, where you tap into everyone's feelings.
IZ: Yeah, which I don’t necessarily feel good about. But it’s also like, I was hired to do my job, and at the end of the day I think that these things align with my moral compass. I think what I’m doing has the best interest of more people at heart, and not the game of a candidate. That’s actually why I like that client in particular. They’re not endorsing anybody. They’re just saying this person doesn’t know what they’re doing; this person has a criminal record for drunk driving, they shouldn’t be the one talking about infrastructure and public safety if they can’t abide.
They’re sort of anonymously putting facts into the discourse that voters should know about.
IZ: Right, and that’s always the goal. Everything I work on I want to make sure it’s factual. And that’s one thing I think [Company Name] is really really really good at–double, triple checking the facts to make sure that what they are saying is true, and we might be playing on your emotions, but we’re not untrustworthy.
It’s like, really data driven.
IZ: Absolutely.
How do you feel about AI? Do you feel like it’s gonna have an effect on these campaign advertisements?
IZ: Absolutely. I think it’s gonna have an effect on everything. I’m terrified of AI. I don’t use it, ever. And I generally do support the use of it with having Chat GPT summarize things or help you do research. But removing the human cognitive aspect from art, from interaction, from business even, is really scary and gross to me. Especially because there are only a handful of people who are capitalizing majorly from this. We’re watching as young people’s job prospects fall to AI and now they’re not able to buy a house. Not able to effectively raise children because AI is—I sound so weird but AI is taking spots. And that’s scary. It’s the same thing with music.
Do you think you’d be able to tell in a political ad if the music was AI generated?
IZ: No, I don’t think I would. Because AI is really good. But what I can tell is whether an experienced—either a composer or music supervisor—worked on it. So the right choices in the intricacies of it are always gonna be stronger with a human ear than with AI. Unless you’re training really smart AI, and that’s a possibility. I don’t know anybody using AI for music in particular for political ads right now. I know people who are like “yeah, just made a Drake song that’s all AI.” Like, the beat, the lyrics, the voices are all fake, and that scares the living shit out of me.
AI doesn’t promote novelty, because the new things it can create come from others. It’s always a reduction of what it’s learning from the internet. Not a lot of people are approaching art or communication or business or politics with the idea of novelty. They’re approaching it from the idea of abundance. If there’s more stuff out there, it will work better, which we’ve seen is not the case because, you know, we’re kind of tearing at the seams.
Do you feel like you have space to be creative or do something novel in your job in the advertisement music you do?
IZ: I do and I think it’s only because the folks I work for let me. They have dealt a great deal of trust and respect to me. Especially because when I started working there I was 21 or 22, and most of the partners are in their late 50s if not 60s. Of course with people who have been working in politics for so long and have such an understanding of the industry and strategy as a whole, their voice is certainly going to be law. But there was always the opportunity to disagree with them based on my knowledge and experience. And that meant that I could be super creative and I could rationalize why this element was in this piece.
And they would say, “great, I understand now.” Or “sorry, I don’t think we can agree on this can you go a different route or can you try what I want?” Of course. But when you work with a wonderful team like that, you do have a lot of creativity given to you. Of course it always depends on who you’re working with. If I’m working on a very run of the mill democratic campaign, they’re not gonna want something super new and different. But I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to do a lot of stuff that allows me to flourish. I would say in general yes, it’s a massive privilege. Because a lot of people I know who work in advertising or marketing don’t have that opportunity, whether it’s music or art direction or just producing.
Do you like it?
IZ: Yeah I have a lot of fun. I think that I always felt the music I produce for artists and for myself has impact, but when it has a political impact or engagement attached to it it feels really nice because I’m passionate about that. And I think that’s one of the reasons why I like doing this, because I love politics. And I love these conversations and I love how fucked up it is, for lack of a better word. Because there’s a problem to solve. And that’s not to say that music can’t solve other problems, but if I can be a part of it with this unique experience I’ve had as a musician since I was a child, that’s awesome. And it’s fun.
Sometimes it sucks, sometimes I’m up until 3am sending emails like “can I use this element of this song on a campaign,” and sometimes it’s like, we send a version of the spot to the client and they go “this sounds amazing, this looks amazing, this feels great, I’m so happy with it, thank you,” and I’m like ha! I helped. It feels really rewarding. Music I think should always be a collaboration. I don’t like making music alone, I don’t like working on art alone, which is why I started my company–the idea of a community and collaboration makes everything better. It’s like the idea of going through something really sad and going home to no roommates, and feeling lonely, versus going home to roommates and feeling lonely but knowing there’s–I live with four other people, so knowing there’s five of us in this little 800 sq. ft. space that can talk to each other is really special.
Do you feel like it consumes all of your time making music for campaigns? Do you feel like you still have time to make your just individual passion music for yourself or do you no longer do that?
IZ: It comes in waves when I’m working with them. Because some days it might be like, “wow I really like this idea that I made and they’re not using it that’s (inaudible (14:19)).” And then some days it’s like “Oh my god, I’ve been working on the same commercial for like a week, I don’t wanna think about music for another week.” And I think that’s the case for a lot of different things. You know, I work on music a lot for one day–I have a session tomorrow from 1-7, and my friend is like “do you wanna go to a show with me?” No. I’m gonna be making music all day, I wanna go home and watch TV and read a book or something instead of consuming even more.
Do you consider that music is like your job, but it’s also like your hobby?
IZ: I think for a long time it’s felt like my job. And now it’s feeling more like a hobby again, but at the end of the day it’s always a job. My hobbies are cooking and riding bikes and going climbing. Music is my job. It’s a bit of a point of contention between me and my brother, for example, because all he does is music. He doesn’t do strategy, he doesn’t do film stuff, event stuff, he doesn’t consult, he’s an amazing drummer and an amazing producer, piano player, and he’s like “I love this, this is all I wanna do, this is my life” And I’m like “Well don’t you ever feel like it’s just your job?” And he’s like “no, this is all consuming.” And I think that’s—for me, it started feeling like a job when it became a job. And the way I approached it changed, and the way I felt about it changed. At the end of the day, I love music more than most things I could ever describe. It’s the first language I spoke and it’ll probably be the last one I speak.
That’s beautiful.
IZ: But it’s tough. It is tough.
Top three books you wish everyone would read?
Blink by Malcolm Gladwell, The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat by Oliver Sachs, and White Noise by Don DeLillo.
Parts of this interview have been edited for clarity purposes.