Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Business, Collegues, Complicity, Confidence, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, Freddie, Friendship, Honesty, Individuality, Leadership, Legend, Queen, Relationships, Reputation, Respect
Once upon a time, I wrote a post about why we should be like Freddie Mercury in the boardroom.
To be honest, I also wrote about how we should be more like Freddie Mercury fullstop.
I still think that … but I also think there is another member of my favourite band we should embrace.
Not Brian May with his degrees, poodle haircut and home built guitar.
Nor drummer Roger Taylor … with his rock star smile, lifestyle and notches on the bedpost.
No, I mean the bassist … John Deacon.
On first impressions, John is a typical bass player.
Quiet.
Comfortable in the background.
Doing everything to not bring attention to himself.
Yes … I appreciate there are a few exceptions to this rule – Flea, Nikki Sixx, John Entwistle, even Level 42’s thumb slapping maestro, Mark King – but John is not one of them.
I once had him driving behind me in London and he was in a Toyota Yaris.
But behind the introverted persona was someone who was most definitely exceptional.
Not just in terms of writing some of the bands biggest hits – from Another One Bites The Dust to I Want To Break Free.
Nor do I mean in terms of still being married to his first love and having a bunch of kids who all live happily in Putney.
[His son used to have a great Youtube channel but sadly he took it all down a while ago]
No … what I mean by calling him exceptional is that he’s 10000% his own person.
Not in an arrogant rockstar way, but in his own way.
Have a look at this …

I bloody love that photo.
Love it.
Not just because it’s Queen live on stage.
Nor because Freddie is in his magnificent prancing poser phase.
But because despite being on stage, playing at deafening and blinding volume and wattage to tens of thousands of adoring fans, standing behind one of the most flamboyant and iconic rock stars of all time as – at the time of that photo – a member of the biggest band on the planet … John looks like he’s just come from his job working as an insurance salesman at a building society in Norwich.
Put simply, John didn’t give a fuck.
He loved the band – at least the majority of the time – but not enough to change who he was.
Where many would have succumbed to the pressure of being more ‘rock star’, John simply wanted to be more him.
Whatever ‘him’ was on any given day.
And what I love as much is the band didn’t give a fuck about it either.
Despite the other 3 members embracing their rock god characteristics – at least on stage – they accepted John for who he was.
Not that they could have got him to change if they tried.
Because while it has been well documented that John was a fragile soul – suffering from depression and always feeling slightly disconnected given he was the last member to join the band – John was as stubborn as a mule.
Not in terms of not listening to reason, but in terms of knowing who he was and what he believed.
At a time where the word ‘authenticity’ is banded about like it’s confetti … no one deserves that label more than John Deacon.
And while I am sure that led to all manner of tension in the band, they obviously trusted and respected him, even to the point they let him take control of the bands financial dealings … which not only resulted in them becoming multi, multi, multi millionaires, but – for a couple of years – becoming the highest paid company directors in the World.
We live in times where complicity is not just expected, but often demanded.
Where the rule of thumb is you fall in line with whatever the whim of whoever calls the shots.
But John Deacon didn’t follow that path.
Not because he was a rock n’ roll rebel … but because in his quest to be as good as he could be, he didn’t want it to come at the cost of losing who he was.
And while that may have resulted in John Deacon being one of the most underrated bass players of his time, we cannot forget it also resulted in him becoming one of the most successful musicians of all time.
And richest.
Despite never fitting in …
Be that with his choice of stage attire or the expectations of others.
Which leads to the point of this post …
Too often we feel we need to be like others to be accepted by others.
Adland is typical in this, but then so many other industries operate the same way.
It’s like group-think oppression … a clique that you feel you have to be a part of to stand a chance of being seen for yourself.
Which is mad and shit and rarely works out.
Which is why John Deacon should be a role model for us all.
Someone who never lost sight of who he was, what was important or what he expected from those around him.
Forever working hard but never taking anything for granted.
Including himself and his family.
From the outside, Queen may not come across as the poster child for ‘healthy working environment’.
And John Deacon doesn’t appear as the most natural of role models.
But as role models go – it may not be very rockstar – but it is very good advice to follow.
So wherever you are in your life or your career, be more John Deacon and find a job where they accept you like a member of Queen.
Filed under: Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brilliant Marketing Ideas In History, Childhood, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Design, Differentiation, Distinction, Effectiveness, Emotion, Football, History, Individuality, Legend, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Resonance, Respect, Sport
Over my career, I’ve had a lot of ‘annual reviews’ and in all that time, there’s been a couple of topics that have made regular appearances in my bosses observations.
I am sure you can guess a lot of them, but one is that I approach every brief like a chance to change or impact everything.
Sometimes it was said in a positive tone.
Sometimes it was said in a less than positive tone.
And they were right.
They still are.
Because whenever we/I get a brief, my starting point is ‘what excites me about the brief’ … quickly followed by ‘how insanely big could we make the idea’ … quickly followed by me getting ridiculous excited about the potential, totally ignoring the fact that all they wanted was a shelf wobbler. Or something.
You think I’m joking don’t you? Well I am, but only just.
My strength/weakness is I always dream massive. Proper massive.
Sometimes it’s paid off – creating the first 4×4 on 2 wheels for Peugeot Mopeds in Vietnam.
Sometimes it’s been a total and unmitigated disaster – trying to get Porsche to bring rally car culture to China.
But pretty much all the time I’ve been able to look in the mirror and know I gave them what they needed, albeit in bigger, more provocative ways than they may have wanted … imagined … or expected.
And you know what, I’m good with that … which probably explains why the quote from the KLF – ‘Don’t give them what they want, give them what they’ll never forget’ – resonated with me so hard.
Anyway, the reason I say this is because waaaaaaaaay back in 1973, this ad appeared in the good, old Nottingham Evening Post.

It was an ad to design the Nottingham Forest Football Club badge.
If that sounds strange, wait till you hear the reason.
Originally, the Forest badge was the Nottingham Coat of Arms … it’s the emblem featured in the middle of the ad.
After discovering they could not copyright it, they decided they had to come up with a new badge and – for reasons no one has really got a good answer for – they decided to run a competition in the local paper, recruiting two lecturers in art and design as advisers.
Despite this being before the glory years of the Clough era, and a prize of just £25, the response was massive.
There were 855 entries from as far away as Australia and Germany … with one man submitting 27 designs.
After a judging process, David Lewis was crowned the winner with this …

David was 29 at the time, working as a graphic designer and lecturer at Nottingham’s College of Art.
He was a football nut and fancied a shot at winning the cash, but there was one problem … one of the judges, a man called Wilf Payne, was the head of the department where he worked.
David said …
“I didn’t think that any design I entered could have been judged fairly if he knew it was mine, and I also didn’t want to embarrass the judges. I did want to enter, though, so I decided to use my mother’s maiden name to hide my real identity. My mother’s side of the family were Italian immigrants and her maiden name was Lago. So I submitted my design as Lago and it wasn’t until afterwards that the judges found out my real name.”
Thank god he did that, because otherwise he may not have won and football – not just Nottingham Forest – would have missed out on one of the most beautiful and distinctive football club logos of all time.
Simple, yet powerful.
Accessible, yet iconic.
Universal, yet truly Nottingham … thanks to the tree representing Sherwood Forest, the wavy lines reflecting the river Trent [where the City Ground stands next to] and the red/white colour formation to reflect the club colours.
Forest’s badge has remained unchanged ever since David’s design – except for the addition of 2 stars to celebrate Forest’s back-to-back European Cup triumphs in 1979 and 1980.
Hell, the club is known to fans as ‘the tricky tree’s’ thanks to the logo.
And a few years ago, an American magazine ran an article on the most memorable and liked sports logos across the world and Davi’d design was in the top 10.
THE. TOP. TEN.
The point is, David Lewis could have approached the competition ‘pitch brief’ as many approach real pitch briefs.
Giving them exactly what they ask for in ways they would expect or feel comfortable with … which in this case would be a badge that represents Nottingham Forest and takes design cues from the existing logo.
But David thought bigger than that.
He wanted to create a design for Nottingham Forest that would be known, respected and revered across all sports and across all countries. A badge that could play outside the lines of the game and into culture.
A designer badge. Literally and figuratively.
And he did it. Beautifully and brilliantly.
Which is why the next time you get a brief – whether for a pitch or an existing client – just remember this story, because the whole industry could do with being more David Lewis.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Confidence, Culture, Education, Emotion, Empathy, Equality, Honesty, Leadership, Legend
I hate losing.
Absolutely hate it.
But I also understand there are benefits to it.
Well, if you lost despite giving your all.
Because losing is a lesson.
It forces you to take a long hard look at yourself.
What you did.
What you didn’t.
What you can improve.
What you need to improve.
What you can take forward with you.
And while there’s the famous Vince Lombardi quote:
“Show me a good loser and I’ll show you a loser”
… I’ve found those who take loss on the chin aren’t necessarily doing it because they don’t care, they’re doing it because they do.
But recently I found incredible quote from Muhammad Ali.
A new way to look at the role of losing … and I love it.

What a way to own loss …
Turning the narrative from despair to character.
Changing judgement into inspiration.
And to do that when you’ve lost the ‘fight of the century’ … incredible.
But then Ali always knew the role and responsibility he held.
He may not have wanted it, but he was not going to close the door on those who needed it.
Needed him.
Needed his direction, inspiration and articulation.
Needed to know there was a chance of a better life than the one others wanted them to have.
Which is why it makes everything even more perfect that he then went on to win that fight.
Twice.
Because honour in losing was just preparation for his honour is victory.
In a World of white, toxic machismo … how we could do with Ali’s majesty right now.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Context, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Environment, Imagination, Immaturity, Legend, Marketing, Media, Relevance, Resonance
No, I don’t know what’s with all the postbox posts [even though in reality, there’s only been 2 in 16 years] but just like that old adage of ‘you wait for a bus and then 2 come at once’ … here is a second post about postboxes in a week.
First of all, DO NOT PANIC.
It is not as sentimental as yesterday’s.
Probably.
But recently someone sent me a photo of this …

Yes, that’s a sticker rather than a real ‘blue plaque’.
Yes, it’s about Danger Mouse rather than a real* historical figure.
But it’s still absolutely fucking awesome.
For those who don’t know what a blue plaque is a permanent sign installed in public places that commemorate a link between that specific location and a famous person, event, or a former building that serves as a historical marker.
[Yes, I did get that from Wikipedia]
For those who don’t know who Danger Mouse is … then I just feel sorry for you, because he’s the best. At least the 80’s version of him … not to mention his sidekick, Penfold – who a certain past commentator on this blog once said I had an alarming resemblance to.
Though he also once said that about the comedian Harry Hill … all because that I once turned up at a Coca-Cola event in a suit.
That said, when I look at a photo of that event – from 1996 – even I have to admit there is more than a passing resemblance to both of them. Though as tragic as that is, I ended up winning ‘best dressed’ for simply not wearing shit jeans and an ironic t-shirt, which pleased me no end but pissed off all the very glamorous female guests who were in attendance.
Anyway, if you need more info on Danger Mouse, please go here.
And to see me – I mean Penfold – please go here.
Or just look at this …

But the real reason I love this letterbox with the Danger Mouse blue circle as a sticker is that someone did it.
They decided it would be worth while doing.
Which means having the idea.
Designing it.
Getting it made.
Then going to the postbox on Baker Street in London – where Danger Mouse lives – and sticking it there.
And not just anywhere on the postbox, but low – where DM enters and leaves his place.
Some may say that’s madness.
Some may say that’s a waste of time and money.
But to me, that’s an act of wonderfulness.
A true commitment to craft, creativity and authenticity.
And what’s better is that while many may miss it, those who see it not only love it … but tell people about it. Which is a lot more than many of the multi-million, 48 sheet billboard, TV ads and digital DTC campaigns ever achieve.
So to whoever did this. Thank you.
You restored my faith in craft, commitment and ridiculousness.
And reignited my love of Danger Mouse. [But not Penfold]
__________________________________________________________________________
* Even though Danger Mouse was a fictional character, he lives in my memories and heart and that’s more than some living, breathing people … which means Danger Mouse is real to me. Deal with it.

