In a quick game of word association, let’s say I throw out the word “rock.” While a few people will get geological in response, the rest will jump towards music: “and roll,” they’ll say. Or maybe “Mick Jagger,” “Jack Black.”

No one will say “baby human,” but that’s the image DLV BBDO chose to promote the ultimate rock publication, Rolling Stone Magazine.  In the 30-second spot, a black and white pencil animation morphs between images of rock n’ roll and infantile behavior. “You came into the world with a scream,” the gruff voiceover says. “You didn’t feel guilty when you defaced the walls of your house…You were a star, and everyone worshipped you. What has happened to you?” Zoom out to a man staring blankly at his computer screen in a uniform cubicle.

It’s an unexpected angle, which makes it all the more rock-worthy. Screw images of Pink Floyd or some youth shaking his hips onstage; let’s appreciate rock for the feelings it’s inspired from birth. Rock has always encouraged giving in to instinct and indulging uncontrollable, selfish desire. It may be a weird concept (“Be a baby; rock on!”), but DLV BBDO’s daring creative choices (hello, mother’s milk) make immaturity look like the best form of development. Imagine chilling in your crib, reading the latest Bob Dylan interview, free of responsibility.

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There are few musicians who can do no wrong when it comes to commercialization. Of course, you have living legends like Bob Dylan or the Rolling Stones, who both critics and fans agree hit their respective peaks years ago, and anything from 1980 through the present doesn’t count against their legacy. Then you have your poor, struggling indie rockers like Of Montreal, who you can’t blame for wanting to make a little money by lending music to Outback Steakhouse, and who actually embarrass themselves more by arguing their Pitchfork album rating in public. Then, you have your select few with such unlimited credibility that they can do and say whatever they want and get away with it. Examples of this rare latter category include names like Steve Albini and, arguably, Jim O’Rourke.

Let’s take Albini first. Aside from appearing in Midwest hardcore legends Big Black and Chicago prog-rockers Shellac, Albini has engineered albums for bands like Nirvana, Pixies, the Breeders, PJ Harvey, Cheap Trick, the Stooges, Superchunk and Jawbreaker. Therefore, Albini has every right to famously write a letter to the Chicago Reader calling local alt-rock heroes the Smashing Pumpkins, Urge Overkill and Liz Phair “three pandering sluts.” He’s Steve Albini, so he gets to call people commercial sellouts. This is the way the world works.

Meanwhile, we have fellow Chicagoan Jim O’Rourke, who’s actually worked with Albini before, allowing his song “Prelude To 110 Or 220/Women Of The World” to appear in the above ad for T-Mobile’s “Wal-Mart Family Mobile Plan.” Now does O’Rourke, whose work also includes production for legendary bands (Sonic Youth, Stereolab, Faust) and basically functioning as Wilco’s unofficial sixth member during the recording of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, get the same privileges that Albini does? I mean, “selling-out” isn’t really that big of a deal anymore, but this is Wal-Mart we’re talking about here.

For now, we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.

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