That Time Our Band Was in a Mountain Dew Commercial (and I Got Mistaken for a Blues Legend)
Every working band accumulates stories that sound made up. Here’s one of ours from the Evil Jake archives, complete with a moral about how independent musicians actually make money, and a punchline that took fifteen years to land.
The gig after the gig
Sometime in the 2000s, the morning after a show, Aaron (Evil Jake’s original bass player) and I were on the walk from my apartment looking for breakfast, as bands do. What we walked into instead was a Mountain Dew commercial shoot featuring Macy Gray. And because the universe loves musicians who are in the right place looking sufficiently like themselves, we ended up in it.
That’s the spot. Two guys from a rock band, on camera in a national commercial, because we left the apartment hungry.
The part about money
Here’s the practical lesson buried in the funny story: we got residuals. Checks, arriving in the mail, repeatedly, for walking through a frame. If you’ve spent any time doing the math on streaming payouts (ten thousand streams buying the band a pizza), the economics of broadcast work, sync placements, and commercial appearances are from a different, better planet. It’s why the promotion playbook keeps saying the same unglamorous thing: a band is a small business with multiple possible income streams, and the ones adjacent to the music (syncs, appearances, licensing) often out-earn the music itself for years. Evil Jake’s music later landed in film and TV work too (Jack Black’s School of Rock, among others), and every one of those placements started the same way this commercial did: by being around, being findable, and saying yes fast.
You cannot plan a breakfast walk into a Mountain Dew shoot. You can absolutely build the band posture that converts luck when it shows up: be easy to find, easy to clear, and easy to work with. That part is completely repeatable.
The fifteen-year punchline
In 2011, a thread appeared on The Gear Page titled “Sean Costello in a Macy Gray/Mountain Dew Commercial.” Sean Costello was a brilliant blues guitarist, gone far too young in 2008, and someone spotted a figure in the commercial they were sure was him. Forum regulars agreed. One had known Sean since he was 14 and confirmed it definitively: that’s Sean, and hey, the bald guy in the back is Aaron, who played bass with him.
They were half right. The bald guy was indeed Aaron, who really did play with Sean. The other guy was me.
It took me until this year to wander into the thread and gently break the news: sorry to disappoint, but that’s not Sean… I know for sure because it’s me. Being mistaken for Sean Costello by people who knew him is, and I said so in the thread, a compliment I’ll happily take. If gear-forum blues devotees squint at your commercial cameo and see one of the genre’s most loved players, your morning-after-gig look is apparently working.
The takeaways, in order of usefulness
Say yes to strange opportunities, especially ones with cameras. Register with the right societies and unions so that when broadcast money exists, it can find you; residual checks only arrive at addresses that paperwork knows about. Treat every placement, however random, as a story asset: this commercial has been generating conversation (and this article) for two decades. And finally, be the kind of band whose story includes phrases like “so then Macy Gray’s production team put us in the shot,” because those are the stories that get retold, and getting retold is promotion you can’t buy.
More case studies from the Evil Jake files coming, with numbers where we have them. The residual checks, sadly, have gotten smaller than the pizza budget. The story appreciates forever.