There’s something loaded about the concept of a commercial.

The word itself makes the fact that its ends are purely economic clear. From the start, this may seem to exclude the idea of incorporating something artistic, or interesting, into something so focused on sales.

And while they may be moneymakers for the artistic salary man, having your work featured in a 15-second promo for cleaning supplies is hardly achieving the pinnacle of artistic ambition.

Going “commercial” has always been a criticism fans make of artists who stray too dangerously close to mainstream awareness to maintain sufficient name-dropping power.

Often, and less sardonically, there is something to these criticisms, as artists lose themselves to create smooth, inoffensive content. But when it comes to commercials themselves, selling out is one of the most charitable things an artist can do.

The thing about commercials is that they present a chance for two different sets of motivations – commercial and artistic – to come together.

Except for the social psychologist, no one really likes commercials, but then again no one challenges their inevitability either. The question is: Exactly how mind-numbing do they need to be? How patronized must we be to keep the people funding television or radio happy?

When bands worth listening to, like Spoon or The Walkmen, lend their music to the cause of selling cars, the answer to the above question isn’t very negative at all.

The commercials will exist regardless, but at least under this arrangement we can space out to a pretty good song instead of some obnoxious commercial jingle.

The last thing to draw from the situation is that Spoon is doing something artistically unethical or somehow sacrificing credibility for money, violating the cardinal but unrealistic rules of integrity that artists are expected to follow.

Although many a record collection seems to be organized around the principle, I think it’s fair to say that the goal of a musician isn’t purely to be esoteric.

I’m not sure what the goals are, but agreeing to be featured on a completely mainstream commercial certainly embodies some of them, like responsibly using public space and communicating with a real audience.

Thoughtful and well-crafted music doesn’t need to be sequestered to be hip; rather, it can lend something of its perspective to the air time in which it’s featured.

While there’s something necessarily “establishment” about the institution of selling cars, the same isn’t true for music, which loses something or dilutes the original ideas as the production grows.

A couple of guys in a garage with guitars is something on a completely different scale than the investment involved in the design and production of cars.

Having an independent band from Austin pair up with a massive manufacturer, then, maximizes the use of space by correctly seeing which part should be given to which group of people.

And when you consider that commercials are one of the few ways that bands can still support themselves – i.e. get the necessary resources to continue being cool, hip and esoteric enough – the justification becomes even more obvious. Transforming air time from mindless to thoughtful – and getting paid in the process – is good for everybody.