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Being good at something – just because it feels good to be good at something – seems to becoming more and more of an outdated concept.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: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Communication Strategy, Confidence, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, Film
First of all, as today is 11.11, I want to acknowledge all the people who paid the ultimate sacrifice to ensure the world had peace.
Given the state of where we’re all at, there is the potential it was all in vain, so I hope sanity prevails and tyrants are dealt with.
OK, now I’ve done the mature bit, I want to talk about Bob Hoskins.
No … not because I have more than a passing resemblance to him … but because I read something recently that reinforced why I liked him so much.
For those who don’t know who he is, he’s the now deceased British actor famous for his roles in movies such as, The Long Good Friday, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, TwentyFourSeven [by my mate Midlands mate, Shane Meadows] and errrrrm, the iconic tragedy that was Super Mario Bros … the first ever movie based on a video game and notorious for how terrible the filming was, let alone the final product.
[More on that last one in a minute]
However where my appreciation of Bob started was not in a movie but in an interview.
He was on a chat show and they asked him …
“How hard is it to film back to back movies?”
He could have gone on a rant about the demands it takes out on him.
Not seeing his family.
Not being home.
The physical and mental exhaustion.
But he didn’t, he said this:
“I’ll tell you what’s hard. Nurses jobs are hard. Single parents lives are hard. Working in a factory is hard. I’m well looked after and well paid for pretending to be someone else on a screen, My life isn’t hard compared to those people. They’re the one’s who deserve the adulation, not me”.
And he meant every word, because not only was Hoskins notoriously self aware, he also found the Hollywood machine very uncomfortable. He loved acting but he hated the fawning.
Nothing sums this up more than his involvement with the movie Super Mario Bros.
The full disaster of the filming can be read here or here … but this quote by Hoskins probably sums it up best:
“The worst thing I ever did? Super Mario Bros. It was a fucking nightmare. The whole experience was a nightmare. It had a husband-and-wife team directing, whose arrogance had been mistaken for talent. After so many weeks, their own agent told them to get off the set! Fucking nightmare. Fucking idiots.”
However after the movie he said something that not only summed up his love of his children and his chosen career, but captured why the advertising industry – for all its faults – can still hold magic.
Sure, not what it once was.
Sure, with it having huge implications on its future.
But something that I can’t imagine many other industries having.
And while we strive to be taken seriously as a discipline in the world of commerce, it might be with worth us remembering its the ridiculousness that made/makes us special. For the work it lets us create. For the influence on culture we can shape. For the way we can make brands something people want to know more about rather than just ignore.
It may be stupid.
It may not always make sense.
But at our best, it’s the ridiculous ways we see and operate in the world that can help business achieve – and mean more – than they ever imagined.
It’s time we remembered that.
It’s time companies remembered that.
Because when you see the vast majority of work put out at enormous expense – researched to within an inch of its life and judged by ‘gurus’ who generally have never actually created anything in their life [other than their own sense of self-importance] and have a limited view of what creativity is and can do, you can’t help but wonder if it is there to push us away rather than pull us in.
Have a great weekend.
Make it a ridiculous one.
Be more like Bob. Hoskins, not Campbell.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand, Business, Chaos, Communication Strategy, Confidence, Content, Context, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Differentiation, Distinction, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Honesty, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Music, Nike, Packaging, Planners, Planning, Point Of View, Relevance, Resonance, Respect, Standards, Trust, Truth
I was recently interviewed by a music company about the work I do for artists.
They – quite rightly – wanted to know what I did and how it was different to what I normally did.
And I explained the difference was made clear pretty much in my very first meeting.
Because I was told this …
Now I can’t be sure they used those exact words, but that was the general premise.
And that was what was amazing.
Because when working with brands, they want you to use creativity to engage audiences, but with bands – at least the ones I’ve been exposed to – it’s the opposite.
I don’t mean they want to alienate people – though they understand the importance of sacrifice better than almost any brand marketer I’ve ever met – it’s just they are the creativity … they are the product … and so the last thing they want is some fucker placing a layer of ‘marketing’ on top of their artistic expression which can be twisted, diluted or fucked with so what they want to say and what it means to them, has no consideration whatsoever.
Now I admit I’m very fortunate the artists I’m working for are of a scale where they have the power to not just consider this issue but do something about it.
Many don’t.
However by the same token, when you’re of that scale, the potential for things to get messed up in some way is much greater.
Which is why they ensured I knew my role was not to market them, but to protect their truth.
Do and explore things that amplify who they are not just flog more product.
And because what they create is an expression who they are … they can express their truth without falling into endless streams of cliched brand consultant speak.
+ So no buzz words.
+ No ambiguous terms.
+ Just stories, experiences and considerations that have defined all they do.
And that’s why they don’t really care if you like their music. Sure, it helps, but they don’t want fawning fandom, they want people who understand what they value, believe and give a fuck about so everything associated with what they do expresses it.
Or said another way, they want people who can ‘speak their tongue’.
Now I am the first to admit there have been some mistakes.
Some things you go, “why did you do that?”
But in the main, I’ve not seen much of it and even when I have called stuff out, they have [generally] appreciated it, because – as I was also told on my first day – I’m being paid to give them truth not comfort.
I’ve always said people should not aspire to be a planner, but get away with the things a planner can get away with. And I’ve got away with a lot as a planner. Done all manner of weird and wonderful.
While I’d like to think that’s what helped me get this gig … the reality is I got it because of an introduction from someone I know.
And while in theory any strategist could do what I’m doing, how I do strategy and how I have been asked to view what it’s role is, has highlighted that’s not the case.
Not because of capability, but what the industry currently wants and expects.
And this is manifested in increasingly not being given the time, support or standards to do things right.
Where speed is more important than substance.
Process more valuable than output.
I wrote about this and more, here.
But it’s more than that, it’s also what clients think strategy is for …
Packaging rather than changing.
Wanting quick wins rather than long term value.
Targeting needs, not a point of view in the world.
Chasing convenience not authenticity.
If anything, doing this work has made me even more grateful to the bosses, agencies and clients I’ve worked with over my career.
Because when I look back, the truly great ones were basically like a band.
Born of belief. Defined by a point of view. Wanting to attract not chase anything popular.
And that’s a big part of why they have been able to remain at the forefront of their individual discipline, category and/or sub-culture.
Because they never saw strategy as a tool for marketing, but to amplify their truth.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand, Brand Suicide, Confidence, Creative Brief, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Differentiation, Education, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, EvilGenius, Fake Attitude, Fulfillment, Honesty, Insight, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Perspective, Planners, Planning, Point Of View, Positioning, Purpose, Relevance, Resonance, Strategy, Wieden+Kennedy
Tone of voice has always made me smile.
A list of cliched terms that somehow supposedly captures the distinctive characteristics of a brand, despite using 90% of the same language.
Fun … but aspirational.
Premium … but approachable.
Smart.
Human.
Innovative.
Blah … blah … blah …
What ends up happening is two things.
1 It ends up all coming down to a ‘look’.
2 It ends up with some people ‘getting the brand’ but never being able to articulate what it is beyond those same cliched words every brand uses.
That’s why I loved when Dan Wieden said …
Brand voice was given a huge amount of focus and time at Wieden.
It wasn’t some scribbled words shoved on a brief at the last second that everyone ignored … it was really delving into the soul of the brand.
How it looked at the world.
The Values and beliefs.
It’s point of view.
Oh, I get it, that sounds as pretentious as fuck doesn’t it … but that’s why you can tell a NIKE spot within 1/10th of a second … regardless of the sport, the audience, the language it’s in, the country it represents or even the style of ad.
That’s right.
They get brand attribution and can be as random as fuck.
And before you say, “oh, but that’s just NIKE” … Wieden [who are/were the undisputed champions of this] did the same thing for Honda, P&G, Chrysler, Converse and any number of totally desperate brands.
The reality is, when you really invest in getting the brand voice right – both from an agency and client perspective – it becomes something far more than a look or a tone, it’s a specific and individual feeling.
And that’s why I find this obsessive conversation about ‘brand attribution’ so amusing.
Oh I get it, it’s important.
But the simplest way to get it is to simply do something interesting.
An expression of how you see the World without constraint.
A point of view others may view as provocative but actually is born from your truth.
That’s it.
It’s not hard and you’ll get attribution automatically.
And not just any attribution … but the sort that has short and long-term commercial value rather than begrudged and meaningless familiarity.
However so many brands – and the brilliant Mark Ritson has to take a lot of the blame for this – think attribution is built on the repetition of brand assets.
And while there’s some truth to that … the difference is when ‘brand assets’ ARE the idea rather than born from it, then you’re not building a brand or creating change, you’re literally investing in complicity and invisibility.
Especially if those brand assets are so bland and generalistic that to not make any impact in the real world whatsoever.
Here’s an uncomfortable truth …
You can’t have commercially advantageous attribution and be traditional at the same time.
Oh I know there’s a lot of agencies and consultancies who say you can, but they’re literally spouting bullshit.
I’ll tell you something else …
If you’re relying on opening logos, watermarks or number of brand name mentions per execution to ensure your work is being attributed to your brand … then you’re not just likely to be showing your neediness and desperation, you’re probably admitting that you’re not saying or doing something that is worthy of making people care.
In fact the only thing worse is if you hire a ‘celebrity’ to front your campaign, then have to label who they are because no one knows them.
Sorry.
Now I appreciate this sort of approach may get you a ‘Mini MBA’ from the Mark Ritson school of marketing … and it may help with internal consistency and familiarity … but I can assure you that it won’t get you a sustainably disproportionate commercially advantageous position in your category, let alone culture.
And maybe that’s fine, and that’s OK. But if it is, then own it … rather than put out press releases announcing your leadership position in the market when really what you’ve done is dictate the blandification of everything you say or do because your marketing strategy is based more on ‘blending in, than standing out’.
And nothing shows this more than tone of voice.
An obsessive focus of playing to what you think people want rather than who you are.
It’s why I always find it interesting to hear how planners approach what a brand stands for.
So many talk a good game of rigor but play a terrible game of honesty.
Spending weeks undertaking research and holding ‘stakeholder’ interviews to learn who the brand is – or wants to be – rather than going into the vaults and understanding not only why they were actually founded … but the quirks of decision they made along the way.
Don’t get me wrong, research and interviews have a place, but for me, learning about a brand at the start of life is one of the most valuable things you can do because it reveals the most pure version of themselves. Or naïve.
No contrived brand purpose … not ‘white space’ research charts … just a true expression of who they are and what they value.
Or wanted to be.
And when you start piecing those things together, you discover a whole new world.
Better yet, you get to a very different – and authentic place.
Oh, the things I’ve learned about companies over the years.
Not for contrived, bullshit heritage stories … but to understand the beliefs and values that actually shaped and dictated the formation and rise of the company, even if down the line it failed and/or modern day staff don’t know any of it.
There’s a reason The Colonel purposefully chose bigger tables to be in his restaurants when he started KFC. There’s a reason Honda made their own screws for their machines. There’s a reason Prudential helped widows and orphans.
It’s not hard, it just needs effort, commitment, transparency and honesty.
That’s it.
And while I could say this quick-fix, fast-turnaround, communication-over-change world we live in means good enough is good enough … the reality is for a lot of companies and agencies, they don’t think they’re sacrificing quality. They don’t think they’re sacrificing anything. They think they’re creating revolution and that’s the most fucking petrifying bit about the whole thing.
Inside the vaults lie the stories and clues that help you get to better and more interesting places. Not for the sake of it, but because of it. And when you get there, it will naturally lead you to bigger, bolder and more provocative acts and actions. And when you do that, then brands get all the attribution they could ever wish for, because by simply being your self, you will be different.
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For the record, I truly respect Mark Ritson.
He’s smart, knowledgable and incredibly experienced.
He has also added a level of rigour in marketing that has been missing for a long time.
I also appreciate some of the issues I talk about are a byproduct of many other things – from talent standards, corporate expectations and plain misunderstanding.
However, when you say a course is the equivalent to gaining a Mini MBA, it not creates a false sense of ability – to to mention gets more and more brands thinking, behaving and expressing themselves in exactly the same way – it suggests the focus is on personal gain over industry improvement and you run the risk of becoming the beast you wanted to slay.
That said, he’s still much smarter than I’ll ever be.
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]
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* 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.