On the road again

They're a double-act: they talk ads and music on stage ... and only their mothers can tell them apart. James Brown on his new best friend

Welcome to the Beattie-Brown Roadshow. For those of you who missed our recent appearance at a music convention, the performance started when Trevor Beattie slipped onto the stage, slumped into a sofa, pulled out a pair of glasses identical to mine, and we did a comedy double take and the audience laughed. We were there to discuss why the music industry has slipped so far behind in the way it markets itself, I'm lead guitar and Trevor is vocalist – sort of.

The Beattie-Brown Roadshow lays to rest Peter York's suggestion in this newspaper that we are actually the same person. Fair enough, the first time I caught sight of Trevor Beattie in a newspaper I did a double take. I knew it wasn't me, but I had to check; it's a hair thing. Nowadays it's virtually impossible to not know Beattie, or at least his work. It's perfectly within reason to suggest the guy has been shaping our public ad space for the last decade.

If he's been most famous at street level for his FCUK and Wonder Bra campaigns, it's the ease with which the truly world famous trust his creative vision that impresses. In addition to cider and newspapers and computer games and so on, Beattie's CV includes Nelson Mandela, Michael Jackson, Muhammad Ali and the British Government. But how does this all differ from the music biz?

"Well," explains Beattie, "the big difference between the music biz and the advertising industry is money. We chuck the stuff around and you guys spend ages trying not to spend it. A few years ago, I was at a music awards evening and the trouble I had trying to convince the bar staff that, 'Yes I know there's free beer, but can I buy a bottle of champagne for my guests?' The woman behind the bar said, 'The beer's free.' I know, I explained, but I'd like champagne. 'I'll have to get the manager.' He came and said, 'You want champagne, but the beer's free.'

"And this went on. Until I finally got to buy a bottle of champagne at which point Björk came over and said, 'Champagne please', and the bloke behind the bar said, 'But the beer's free.' And it went on and on until Björk tried to get my champagne off me. Obviously I told her: 'The beer's free.'"

As we look through the different campaigns he has done for FCUK and the Government, Beattie focuses in on the importance of rivalry and attitude.

"I haven't bought a record by a white person since Young Americans turned me on to soul music, but I like the way Eminem was presented. And the Sophie Ellis-Bexter tiff with Victoria Beckham was great advertising. You see, it's about the music and the competition and you don't need a massive billboard picture of Kylie. You should stick two lines of a song up there or drive one of those big vans with hoardings on the side up and down Oxford Street with an inflammatory message that will get you on the news."

Beattie waived TBWA's fee and made a cinema ad for my movie magazine Hotdog last year because he feels it's important to balance out the new businesses with the mighty powers he works for. Has he ever been approached by a band to direct a video?

"Never, and I would do it for free. The people who work at our place all love music, they sit around listening to it all day; for many of them it's their lives. They would bite your hand off to work on a music campaign and we'd do it for cost, like we did for you. In fact, I am looking for a band at the moment for the next FCUK campaign."

I'm not sure he should have said that, but it made the day of many delegates at the roadshow.

As he left the stage to tremendous applause, a queue of 20 or so hopeful managers and record execs queued up to sell him his wares.

First lady in the queue: "Hi, I'm Gilbert O'Sullivan's publicist."

Jesus, don't tell me; it's a hair thing.