Filed under: Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Colleagues, Context, Craft, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Cynic, Friendship, Music
I recently read an interview with the members of 80’s art-pop band, Soft Cell.
Sure, I liked their song ‘Tainted Love’ but that was about it.
I thought they were try-hard and much preferred my heavy metal bands.
But as I’ve got older, I’ve realized how blinkered I was … how judgmental … and this interview rammed it home.
I love so much about it.
Their attitude to music.
Marc’s phenomenal and ferocious attitude to the frankly, horrific homophobic rumours that I remember hearing way back in my college days.
And their approach to their working relationship.
It’s funny with bands … you expect all the members to love each other. Have deep bonds that last a lifetime.
Of course part of that is cultivated by the record companies, but you still want them to be mates who hang out together … but often, they’re not.
It’s not that they don’t like each other – though that can happen too – it’s more their chemistry works in one environment and they’re good with that.
It was funny seeing it in print because it kind-of captured how I felt with Cynic.
While Andy, George and I talked every day … we weren’t close friends.
We didn’t socialize much together. In fact, we probably do it more now we’re not in a business together than we ever did then.
But it worked.
We liked each other.
We trusted each other.
We valued each other.
But it never really extended beyond the work environment.
And this probably helped us because unlike family – where the focus is not to cause upset – this situation allowed us to always tell each other the truth.
We would be considerate. We cared about each other. But we would never hold back.
And when I think of the best work experiences I’ve ever had, this has been the constant dynamic.
Blunt truth wrapped in visceral respect.
Where you felt you were better at your job when you were together, but had other enjoyable lives when you were apart.
And the joy of the working experience meant you kept coming back.
Not because you had to, but because you wanted to.
Or to paraphrase David from Soft Cell, a creative relationship rather than a creative marriage.
I didn’t realise how special that was.
It certainly doesn’t happen often.
And while you may ask why some of those relationships still end, the bigger question is why do so few ever begin?
For me, it’s all about trust and belief.
That you got together because of how you all see the world, not because you found yourselves in the same room or office.
And while you may share the same philosophy, you have different ways of embracing and executing it.
And that’s thrilling.
That’s the tension that drives both of you to be better.
That lets you say stupid stuff because it’s part of the trust you have of each other.
Part of the standards you hold each other to.
While I have some of that still, I miss some of the stuff I had.
And why I still feel a great privilege for having lived it .
But here’s the good news … because while many of those relationships are no more, the experiences, lessons and ambitions that were born from them remain and blossom.
So thank you to all of you who had – and have – that impact on me.
You know who you are.
And thanks to Marc and David for waking me up to it. Again.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Audio Visual, Brand, Comment, Confidence, Context, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Experience, Legend, Loyalty, Management, Metallica, Music, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Respect, Trust, Truth
Late last year, Metallica launched a new song called LuxEterna, from their upcoming new album, 72.
While it is a brilliant return to their roots, the choice of ‘yellow’ as a key colour was met with some negative commentary from ‘brand purists’.
I don’t mean fans, but brand and design folks.
This was amazing for 2 reasons.
The first is our job is to keep things moving evolving rather than continually replicating what’s gone before, so if anyone should be open minded to change, it’s brand and design folk.
[It also highlights my problem with people who keep banging on about ‘brand assets’, because they are confusing recognition with interesting. Or worse, thinking recognition beats being and doing interesting stuff for audiences]
Secondly, the album was designed – as many have been – by the brilliant folk at the wonderful Turner Duckworth … and given their body of work, if anyone knows about designing modern iconography, it’s them.
But overall, I just found the whole debate amusing.
Metallica have always approached albums as a way to express their current frame of creative mind … and given they always look to inject something new or challenging into their work, the choice of yellow seems the perfect way to communicate ‘next chapter’.
In the case of 27 Seasons – also known as the first 18, and arguably, most significant years of your life – James said this …
“There’s been a lot of darkness in my life and in our career and things that have happened with us … but always having a sense of hope, always having the light that is in that darkness, keeps us moving. Without darkness, there’s no light, and being able to focus a little more on the light instead of how it used to be and how horrible it is, that can only be a good thing. There’s a lot of good things going on in life — focusing on that instead helps to balance out my life. And there’s no one meaning to it — everyone has some sense of hope or light in their life, and, obviously, music is mine.“
When you read that, it’s not hard to work out that the use of yellow is part of a bigger idea around the album rather than a desire to build a one colour brand which some have claimed.
Unsurprisingly, they’re the same people who talk about brand assets like you can just buy them off the shelf rather than make them a byproduct of what you do, so that they have value in them that you also keep building.
By pure chance, I was asked by people connected to the band to do a talk to a music publishing company.
While not specifically related to Metallica, I was asked by someone in the audience for my opinion on their ‘new image’ and whether it risked upsetting their core audience.
I had thought this question may came up, which is why I had prepared an answer.
After informing them I had never known a brand – let alone a band – who knew their audience as well as them … and if you listen to the track, I doubt any of their fans would mistake a revitalised Metallica for Ed Sheeran … I said this.
“If Rock n’ Roll is about rebellion, then surely there’s nothing more rock n’ roll than Metallica using yellow rather than the category norm of black?”
It was met with applause.
And some disgust, hahaha.
But here’s the thing …
Brands – and bands – don’t move forward if all they do is give audiences the same thing over and over again. Nor will they if they just give audiences exactly what they want over and over again. Longevity is as much about keeping people on their toes as it is satisfying their passion and curiosity and you only stand a chance of achieving that by following what interests you, not what interests everyone else.
Metallica get this more than most.
It’s part of the reason they have stayed at the top … because by doing things that interest them, they do things that interests more people rather than just the same people.
As I wrote for MTV years ago, brands can learn a lot from bands … because while brands may think finding shortcuts or disguises allows them to optimise their efficiency, everyone else can tell it’s because they’ve run out of ideas or energy.
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By the way, 72 Seasons comes out tomorrow. This is not a sponsored post. Well, not directly anyway, hahaha.
As some of you know, a few years ago I was fired by the Red Hot Chili Peppers from a project I was doing for them.
My crime? Disagreeing with them.
OK, I accept I could have maybe disagreed with them in a slightly better way, but I wasn’t doing it to be an asshole … I was doing it because I thought they were making the wrong decision and I wanted them – as I want everyone I work with – to succeed in a way that is better than they imagined.
To be fair, three quarters of the band were fine.
Nice even.
The problem was their singer, Kiedis – but then he has form with reacting badly to people questioning the stuff that comes out his mouth.
Anyway, their actions post our dalliance prove I was right – not that they’d ever admit it – but rather than be sad I was let go, I wear it like a badge of honour.
I was fired by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
How many people can say that?
Well, if you’re a guitarist – quite a few people – but let’s not go there right now.
Anyway the reason for this post is I recently saw a post on instagram from drummer Chad Smith wishing his band mate, bass player Flea, a happy birthday.
Nothing wrong with that. In fact it’s lovely … especially after being in a band together for 34 years. However what is slightly confusing is that despite being together all that time, he had to steal a photo from Getty Images to show them together.
Mind you, given the stuff I learned about them from my short stint working for them, I can say there are many reasons this could have happened.
Of which none are, “it’s just us being crazy Rockstars”.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Agency Culture, Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Confidence, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Honesty, Music
As many of you know, I HATE the band, ‘The Smiths’.
Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.
However, I recently saw an old article from their guitarist – Johnny Marr – that I really like.
I should say that I’m not saying this because he also now hates the racist prick that is Mr Miserable Morrissey … or that he lives in Portland and has been known to play with some old W+K’ers … but because I absolutely love the last line of this quote:
Maybe I like it because I’m reacting to the many people in the industry who are achieving acclaim for not actually doing anything other than repeatedly spouting very deliberate, very self-serving soundbites … or said another way, for being famous for being famous … but the idea of someone working hard at something for the sheer desire to be good at something seems a relic of the past.
I know, I sound the grumpiest of grumpy old men.
The reality is I don’t begrudge anyone who is doing what they can to make a living.
Even if it’s utterly strategic and contrived in its motivation.
And I also know there’s people out there who do have a ‘work hard to just be better at something I want to be better at’ work ethic … people like Maya Thompson and Joel Goodall to name but 2.
But the bit that bothers me is the industry is placing so much value on people who shout stuff rather than do stuff that it is actively encouraging more people to behave this way.
Being good at something – just because it feels good to be good at something – seems to becoming more and more of an outdated concept.
In some ways I get it.
Just because you enjoy something doesn’t mean you’ll be good at it. Or good to the level that it could serve you well. So why would you put in all that effort when it may not move you forward?
I also appreciate I am the last person who should be talking about this.
When I learnt the guitar, I did it because I wanted to be a rockstar.
Sure, I also wanted to write songs and play them with my bandmates, because I loved doing that … but the ‘benefits’ of stardom were definitely a major influence in my decision to pick up the 6 string.
I used to look at old guys playing in bands [ie: people who are my current age] as pathetic.
I used to think they were hanging on to dreams they’d never achieve and it was all a bit sad.
But now I’m at their age, I realise it’s no longer about that, it’s about pure enjoyment.
That regardless of what might – or probably might not – happen, the joy of doing something you love, like and are quite good at, is fulfilling enough.
Sure, there are better guitarists out there than me.
Guitarists who will achieve success, money and fame … but that’s OK, because just being able to play to a good standard is OK with me.
It’s a demonstration that I committed myself to something.
Didn’t take the easy option.
Didn’t give up.
It’s the fact I can play the guitar that makes me happy.
Of course it’s nice if others recognise that, but that isn’t important.
Neither is the case that a long time ago, I played guitar for a few semi-famous people.
In fact, given I no longer play for any semi-famous people, you could argue I’ve got worse … except I don’t think that way. Not just because so much of that is down to luck, but because I am happy that I found something that gave me – and gives me – pleasure through a constant feeling of challenge and achievement and that is not to be underestimated.
A gift that has lasted 38 years and counting.
Throughout my life I have met people who have planned their life so well.
They knew their next step … they knew the skills they needed to acquire to get where they wanted to go … they worked everything out in excruciating detail.
I used to sort-of envy these people.
I used to wonder what was wrong with me because I sort of bumbled along, choosing things that interested me rather than necessarily rewarded me.
Please don’t think I am claiming to be a saint, but I can say that money was never the driving factor in my choices – except once, which led to one of the most soul destroying periods of my life which reinforced that my way of making decisions – however stupid – was perfect for me.
In fact, I realise more and more that what works for me is less about efficiency of progress and more about emotional satisfaction.
And that’s why I love that Johnny Marr quote, because he captured that while people who have gained the highest job title or have been put on the highest hype pedestal are good … the real stars are the folk who simply get on with what they do.
Who take pride in a job well done because that’s the standards they operate by.
Not for progress or cash incentives, but because they believe that’s what’s right.
They view it as a testimony to their hard work and experience.
That being good at something is – to a large extent – good enough.
Sure, some of these people also sit at the top tables of companies … but most tend to be people who let other people shine through their abilities at doing something well.
I am not one of these people.
I want to be.
I try to be.
But I’m not.
I write a blog and court attention.
I try to do it for the right reasons – I genuinely do – but, let’s be honest, I also do it because for some mad fucking reason, it’s also become quite good for my career.
To be honest, that’s pretty sad and pathetic.
And that’s why I am so glad I play the guitar.
Because while my reasons to pick it up may have been flawed, it was the sheer joy of wanting to get better at something that gave me sheer joy that kept me going with it.
I hope everyone finds that thing.
We will all be better for it.
Filed under: Age, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Music, Nottingham
Recently I was reading the Nottingham Evening Post when I saw a pub I knew, was being knocked down.
To be honest, I was more surprised it’s taken this long, because it always was a shit hole.
The food was shit.
The decor was shit.
The service was shit.
The clientele was shit.
It was a venue with almost no single redeeming feature.
In fact the only thing that surprised me more was that it looks just as shit today as it always did … and I have not stepped foot in that place for 36 years.
THIRTY SIX. [So yeah, I was underage when I stopped going there, let alone started]
And yet, hearing of it’s impending destruction made me nostalgic and a teeny bit sad.
Because for all it’s horrificness, it played an important part in my history.
This was the place I played my first ever ‘grown up’ gig.
This was the place where the council told us we were too loud.
This was the place where a biker gang told us to play certain songs or face the consequences.
This was the place my parents first saw me perform.
This was the place that got me addicted to gig life.
This was the place that introduced me to new characters and friends.
This was the place that started – even though it lasted just a few years – a life and career that was beyond anything I could ever imagine.
This was the place I walked the bridge between kid and adult. From food to nightlife to feeling a member of a gang to believing – and seeing – a new life and world was possible.
So yeah … The Forester’s was always an undeniable, unmitigated shithole.
But it was also my university for life of adventure.
I’ll always be grateful for it.