Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Family, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
As you know, I love music.
I play it.
I make it.
I listen to it.
I used to make my living from it.
I work with people who play to millions while they do it.
Music is, in many ways, a version of oxygen to me.
However, while I like all manner of music … from heavy metal to opera … there are some bands I don’t really connect to. One of those is Radiohead.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate their talent and there are music/songs they’ve written that I feel are genuinely masterful. But do I think they are worth the reputation that so many people hold them to?
Hmmmmmn, probably not … which I appreciate is entirely subjective rather than anything approaching a considered point-of-view.
And yet, I recently saw someone perform one of their songs – the admittedly iconic, ‘Creep’ – that has had such an impact on me, that I literally burst into tears at a specific point of the song, every time I listen to it.
And I’ve listened to it a lot.
I should point out that while I have always liked that track, it’s less to do with the song and more to do with who performs it and how they perform it.
It’s this [with my tears starting at exactly 2 minutes 8 seconds ]
Oh my god, I’ve just listened to it again as I am writing this and the tears are streaming down my face.
Now I should point out I have form at crying to music.
My Mum used to tell me that when I was very young – like 6 months old – I would cry at classic music that she’d put on the record player. Not because I didn’t like it, but because I was overwhelmed by the emotion of it.
And here I am, aged 54, still doing it.
There are many reasons for it.
First it’s just fucking beautiful. Proper, proper beautiful.
It’s both so simple and yet so layered …
But it’s also how two totally different musical styles bend and blend into some sort of harmonious rapture.
Where different orchestrations seem to be going on their own paths and yet, at some point, come together.
Not mechanically, but with almost a slow motion to them … making the impact of it even more majestic.
But, if I am being honest, as amazing as that is, what really hits me is this is Son and Mum.
It makes me emotional just thinking about it.
Not just because it makes me miss my Mum so much, but because both of them have come together to create something special for each other. And I do think it started that way.
The son believing his Mother’s voice was incredible. The mum wanting to support her son’s musical talent.
A genuine interest in what each other is interested in.
No judgement.
No criticism.
Just interest and openness while being able to stay utterly true to who they each are.
And by doing this, they’ve taken their separate world’s and created something together. Something special. Something that elevates their relationship because it has opened the door to new ways to share and express their love that maybe they previously never imagined.
But it’s even more than that.
Because running all the way through those 3 minutes, 25 seconds is a celebration of love.
Not just because they’re bonded by blood, but because you feel the deep sense of pride, respect and adoration of who each other is and what each other does.
It’s similar to when Pink Floyd guitarist, Dave Gilmour, turned up unannounced to a pub in Brighton to support – and sing – with his daughter Romany and yet it is also very different.
Because where Dave and Romany sang a song that was a relatively faithful rendition of the original [not to mention something you imagine they’d done together in private for years – which is said with love, not judgement] the version of ‘Creep’ is something else.
A mash-up of totally different musical styles.
A creation of something not heard before.
Something that not only takes the song to a completely new place, but demands all who listen to it open their eyes and ears to a musical style that they may of never heard before or most probably never considered would be something they’d like.
But how can you not like this.
How can you not be moved by it.
Because while the song is about low self esteem, loneliness, and the struggle to accept yourself, it inspires, radiates and ignites pure love.
The sort of love surely everyone hopes they will one day get to experience, create, share or remember.
And that is what my tears are for. And that is why I’m so grateful for them.
Remember to tell the people who matter to you, what they mean to you.
Have a good weekend.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Ambition, Aspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Audacious, Brand, Brand Suicide, Brilliant Marketing Ideas In History, Cannes, Collaboration, Comment, Confidence, Context, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Devious Strategy, Differentiation, Distinction, Emotion, Fast Food, Food, IMU, Innovation, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Packaging, Paula, Planners, Provocative, Qantas, Relationships, Relevance, Reputation, Resonance, Smell
Over the years, I’ve written a lot about collabs.
The good.
The bad.
The ridiculous.
But recently there has been one that has somehow achieved all three. AT ONCE.
That’s right, the glorious, overpowering flavor of Pickled Onion Monster Munch and Heinz mayo.
It’s the combination no one asked for … no one expected and no one imagined could work.
And it doesn’t, and yet it does.
It’s possible the unhealthiest and most unpleasant thing you could ever put in your mouth and yet – if you’re like me – and love Monster Munch, it’s something you could not possibly resist from trying.
Hell, when we moved to London back in 2018, it was literally the first ‘British’ food item I got Otis to try – literally the morning after we arrived – and the fact he liked them [at least he did, then] made me burst with so much pride, I could overlook his development of an American accent. Just. Check it out below..
But here’s the thing, similar to when the Absolut Disco Ball packaging made me buy alcohol, despite having not drunk anything since I was FIFTEEN YEARS OLD, this collab made me go to absolute lengths to get it into my hands.
You see you couldn’t buy it in NZ so I had to adopt different means.
I wrote to Heinz.
I joined their ‘fan club/DTC’ service.
I explored supermarkets in both America and Australia.
I contacted courier services about getting it and delivering it to me.
In the end, a plea on social media was answered by the incredible thoughtful Jestyn on Twitter/X … who not only got it for me, but sent it to me as well.
And while I would not get it again … the fact is I was not only more excited about it than 99% of brands out there, but I went to greater lengths to get my hands on it than I would for 99% of brands despite the fact I knew it was overtly bad for you and I’m Mr Healthy these days so I was perfectly aware that I’d only ever taste it once.
While there are many possible lessons we could learn from the creation of this, albeit, novelty product – be if fandom, communities or unexpected relevance – the real lesson is to follow, and then protect, the excitement.
The stuff that captures the imagination.
The stuff that changes the conversation.
The stuff that keeps people on their toes.
The stuff everyone keeps referring back to, even when logic tells them not to.
Because as Paula, Martin and I explained at our Strategy Is Constipated, Imagination Is The Laxative talk at Cannes back in 2023 … the greatest strategy doesn’t start from a place of logic, it finds the point of most excitement and works back from there.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, Humanity, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Respect
As its the start of a new week, in the first month of a new year … it’s pretty safe to say we can expect another year of endless ego, humble-bragging and self-righteous bullshit … and that’s just the stuff you get from me.
So while I am the last person you’d expect this to come from, I thought I’d use this post to try and remind us what professionalism really is … why we desperately need to treat people as humans rather than ‘consumers’ … and why a job well done doesn’t mean having/creating/using AI driven, friction free, optimised sales funnels, powered by parity brand assets … meaningless marketing practice certificates … grandiose PR statements … and endless statements about all the awards we ‘won’ from increasingly obscure media publishers. [not forgetting all the posts we put on all social media platforms telling everyone about them, while conveniently choosing to ignore how actively we were involved in lobbying for them]
And how will I do that exactly? With this:
You’re welcome.
Here’s to having a good week.
And a less bullshit producing/polluting new year.
Filed under: 2025, A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Brands, Collaboration, Communication Strategy, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Fulfillment, Love, Music, My Childhood, Pearl Jam, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Respect
Following on from yesterday’s post about Duran Duran, we have another musical post.
Except this isn’t about exploitation and re-definition, this is more a ‘blast from the past’.
I know this is going to make me sound old – it will also make me sounds a total hypocrite given I’ve always loved music for its melody, rhythm and vibe rather than its lyrics – but I got sent this clip of a crowd at a Pearl Jam gig from a few years ago and I love it.
OK, so part of it is because I like Pearl Jam.
Another part is because I have always loved the song they’re performing – Black – which is on what I consider their finest album, Ten.
God, that album is magnificent. I remember being blown away when I first heard it – probably in the Tap and Tumbler, around the corner from Rock City where anyone going to Friday Rock Night would head before a night of head-banging.
But whereas back then, my favorite song was ‘Alive’ … the lyrics of Black pulled me in over the years.
“I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life
I know you’ll be a star in somebody else’s sky
But why, why, why can’t it be
Oh, can’t it be mine?”
Maybe it’s because I became more of a sentimental, romantic fool … but I find them so beautiful. And as I said, I’ve never really been a lyrics guy … hell, I can’t even remember lyrics to songs I wrote back in the Bangkok Shakes/Virgin Records days. But those … oh I fell in love with them, probably the first time I saw Pearl Jam live [1992] and heard the crowd sing them, like in the video above.
For someone who is not religious, when I hear a crowd sing, it becomes very spiritual for me. A transcendence into something I can’t quite explain. A feeling of deep connection with those around me with a deep belief we’re creating something special together. It’s why I also love pentecostal music … except, like most music for me, it has little to do with the words, and more the vibe and emotion.
But ‘Black’ is different …
Probably because it reflects a specific time in my life where I was balancing joy and pain in equal measure. Coming into a time of my life of freedom and exploration but also deeply aware of a darkness that was seemingly trying to engulf all that was important in my life. With that in mind, I can’t think of a more perfect band to create the soundtrack to your life like Pearl Jam.
And while watching that clip does take me back to those times, it is superseded by a general feeling of joy. Watching the crowd not just witness something special, but being an active participant in the moment. Acting like their own instrument. A crowd infected by audience members scattered all around who show and lead the way for them to form an impromptu orchestra of vocal harmony and cacophony. It’s fucking beautiful … amplified by the fact there’s few camera phones. Not experiencing the moment through a screen. But a total connection and presence.
Hey, I’m as guilty as the next person for videoing and photographing gigs … it’s a way to capture a significant moment you can enjoy for years. But I do wonder if it is ever quite as significant as you would get just being there, lost in nothing but the sounds and emotions you’re all creating and feeling together.
It’s why I find it interesting more and more artists are saying their concerts are ‘smartphone free zones’. Not because – like in the 80’s – they had sold the photographic rights to concert images to a 3rd party, but because when an audience looks at them through the screen, they feel there’s a barrier between them and the energy they get back from the crowd.
As I’ve written before – both here and here – it’s a two-way street.
And while some may say, “it’s not my job to make the band feel good because I’ve paid them money to make me feel good” they’re missing the point.
Because while it’s true money ensures you receive a certain level of passion, consideration, commitment and effort from the artist in their performance … the more you contribute to the experience, the more you all get out of it.
It’s why the best creative work isn’t made for clients who dictate and judge, but those who appreciate they play an important and integral role in creating the conditions for it to go – and get to – magical places.
In the creative journey, there is no room for passengers.
And yet, too many carry energy vampires and toxic stowaways.
The sooner clients get this, procurement departments get this, marketing practice ‘guru’s’ get this, media agencies get this and ad agencies get this … the sooner we will all be able to create moments that deeply connect to rather than just shout and bore.
It’s down to us.
It won’t happen by itself.
So what happens next is down to all of us.
One by one. Job by job. Meeting by meeting.
It won’t be easy, but my god … it will be worth it.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Asia, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Contribution, Corporate Evil, Craft, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, Environment, Finance, Government, Imagination, Perspective, Resonance, Respect, Values, Vietnam
Over the last year, I have fallen in love with walking.
What once I considered a waste of TV/Gaming/Eating time, now I prioritise it.
I take client calls on walks.
I do team catch-ups on walks.
I do a lot of my work thinking time on walks.
Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk.
And the benefits of this approach to life are plentiful.
I’m healthier – physically and mentally.
I have a skin tone that no longer makes me look like an anemic Dracula.
And I have got to connect more to the places I live and work.
I am not suggesting in any way others need to be doing this, just highlighting how it has had a lifechanging effect on me.
But one of the things I have really got to appreciate with walking is seeing the communities and streets around where I live and how – every now and then – you come across something that makes me stop walking and stare.
This is one of them …
Someone did that.
Someone decided to do that.
To make a little part of the pavement, a jewel.
And I have no idea why … and I have no idea who … but I love someone did.
Not just because they took the time, but they thought is was worth the time.
And that’s the thing I worry about where we’re heading.
Because everything is seemingly evaluated and valued by greatest and fastest ROI.
We’re seeing companies do it with their endless mergers and acquisitions.
We’re seeing tech firms do it with their blinkered focus on optimisation over possibility..
And we’re seeing governments do it with their disregard of the arts in favour of business.
And while, of course, money is hugely important … when the impact and value on how society feels and interacts is disregarded, the economic benefit ends up being even more short-term.
Some people won’t care.
Some people are only focused on what they can get out of something rather than what they can give or enable for someone else.
Which is why I’m so grateful to whoever made this piece of literal street art.
Because it’s far more than just decorating a bit of the pavement, it’s a reminder of the choice we have. Because while the ‘economically functional’ may be easier, cheaper, faster and more convenient, its the stuff that you know is born from someone’s passion that leaves the most lasting impression.
Talking of passion, I’m away next week in one of my favorite places in the World, Vietnam.
[I say that, it all depends on what the doctors say about my eye at today’s check up. Eek]
It’s exciting for 3 reasons.
1. I’ve not been there for years.
2. It’s where I helped create the ‘4×4 on 2 wheels‘.
2. It means that after 3 months of pain, my eye is doing well enough to travel again.
And before you ask, it is for work – even though I get to see friends there at the same time.
So while I’m off experiencing the place with the most infectious spirit, unstoppable energy and relentless optimism in Asia, I hope you have a week finding and celebrating the things that may make no economic sense to an accountant but make so much sense to your soul.
Because in these days of beige and boring, creativity is not so much about art, but an act of rebellion on behalf of the human spirit.
See you in a week.