A long time ago I met a music journalist who was interviewing rockstars with their kids.
But it wasn’t the typical, ‘what’s it like to have a superstar as a parent’ stuff, it was ‘what’s cringe about having a superstar parent’.
And it was brilliant.
I particularly liked hearing the kids of Heavy Metal superstars talk about how seeing their Dad on stage was ridiculous.
But what made it better was the reaction of the parents.
Because rather than distain or disgust, the overwhelming emotion was pride.
Pride for their kid speaking their mind.
Pride for their kid keeping them grounded.
Pride for their kid seeing them as a parent – not a Rock Star.
Pride for their kid, being their kid.
It was absolutely heartwarming … which is why I love this clip of Pink Floyd guitarist/singer, Dave Gilmour, turning up unannounced at his daughter’s – Romany – gig in a pub in Brighton.
And while you could think he is stealing the spotlight from her – especially when she sees him and says, “So you’ve decided to come and upstage me?” – you realise that’s not the case at all and Romany knows that too.
It’s a Dad, proud of his daughter.
It’s a Dad, supporting his daughter.
It’s a Dad, appreciating his fame may shine a slightly brighter light on his daughters talent.
But most of all, it’s a Dad wanting to experience the joy of playing a song with his daughter.
And it’s all kinds of wonderful.
Wonderful because you see the utterly typical family dynamic that flows naturally and seamlessly between them from the moment he enters the pub.
Wonderful because the pub in question is a ‘ramshackle boozer’, which both reflects Romany’s desire to earn her music chops rather than expect it because of her Dad as well as her Dad’s attitude that he doesn’t care where she’s playing because he’s insanely proud of who she is and what she does.
Wonderful because of the loving glances they share through the song … a song, you presume, they have played in private over many years. A piece of indelible glue that connects them in ways only they will ever understand.
Wonderful because of the hug and kiss they share at the end … not caring for one moment they’re in front of a room of strangers and that parent/child displays of affection aren’t very rock and roll.
But what I love most is David only played one song that night before buying the entire pub a drink and then leaving his daughter to shine on her own. To play her music to an audience even more enamored with her talent and leaving them with a performance they will remember forever, regardless of the time or other performances they witness.
At a time where there is so much performative displays of toxic strength, confidence and arrogance in the World … the real badasses are the ones who show the love they have for the people who matter most without limits, boundaries of ‘corporate filters’.
In one ways its a moment of utter mundanity.
In others, it’s an act of human wonderfulness.
Which serves as a reminder that while fame can impress others, the people who really matter only see – and value – who you really are.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Collaboration, Confidence, Consultants, Context, Creativity, Culture, Cunning, Distinction, Effectiveness, Experience, Honesty, Individuality, Leadership, Management, Marketing, Mediocrity, Metallica, Money, Perspective, Planners, Planning, Relationships, Reputation, Resonance, Strategy, Success
I recently interviewed a successful artist.
What made them especially interesting to me was less their fame and more the fact they’d left a very popular group to go out on their own.
Not because they were ‘guaranteed’ success, but because they didn’t like how their management and record company dictated what they had to do.
As they told me the thinking that went into their decision, they said something I loved:
“Working for yourself is like being an artist in a studio. You’re free to create … you’re open to possibilities. Where most people have a dream, those with the lust to go out on their own stand the most chance of making their dream happen. Even if I failed, I would have felt good I had failed on my own terms”.
How good is that?!
Of course, I appreciate that when you’re successful it’s dead easy to say you would be OK to have failed … but I believed them.
Part of that is because they walked away from a very successful group. Part of that is they did in the knowledge their contract stated they would no longer be eligible for royalties. Part of that is before they launched their own career, they took time off to reclaim who they were. But most of all, I adore how they equated working for yourself as an artist who is in their own studio.
Despite having – and still – working for myself, I’d never thought of it that way and in the big scheme of things, the work I do for myself is the most indulgent, wonderful shit I have ever done. Not just in terms of freelance work, but in my whole career … and a lot of that has been pretty wonderfully indulgent.
But even with that, I looked at working for yourself much more in the way Michael Keaton looks at working for yourself …
Put simply, you love that you have more freedom, but you’re also aware you are the business … so every decision is weighted with more consideration or deliberation.
It’s why the two things that have helped me embrace what excites me rather than do what makes sense is Harrison Ford’s know the value of your value and the conversation I had with Metallica’s managers before I started working with them.
Now I say all this, but the fact is I also work for Colenso – however the reasons I did that were less about financial security and more about appreciating what makes me happy:
1. I need to work with people and build teams. I’m good at it, it makes me happy and I love seeing people grow and the reality is, when you work on your own, you rarely get the chance to do that.
2. Colenso is a place I’ve always loved and so to have the chance to work at a place that truly believes in creativity when so many just want to monetize any-old-shit was both hugely appealing and exciting.
3. They were totally open to me working a different way, which – for all the talk – few companies would ever consider, let alone allow.
4. When you work on your own, your development is more influenced by the projects and clients you work with, whereas when you are part of a team, your development is pushed and prodded every day. And I like that.
5. It offered us a chance to leave COVID-stricken Britain, even though within months … it hit NZ, ironically via the parents of a planner in my team. The second country brought to its knees by someone I’d managed. Oops.
So while I completely appreciate the privileged position I was in – and am in – the point is there was a lot of consideration about working on my own and working at Colenso … not just in terms of what I can gain but working out what I don’t want to lose.
Of course, there are going to be sacrifices along the way … but if you don’t think it through, you may find you’re running away from something rather than running towards something.
For me, that differentiation is a really important one to identify.
Don’t get me wrong, I get that sometimes you just have to escape the situation you’re in, regardless of where you’re going to end up.
I’ve experienced that situation twice in my life and it was horrible. Horrific even. And so getting away was real, urgent and necessary.
But I’m not talking about people in those situations, I’m talking about the folk who simply didn’t want to work for someone else. Didn’t want to deal with the expectations, the politics, the time pressures and the bullshit.
I get it.
I appreciate the appeal.
I basically covered it in a conversation with WARC back in 2020.
But there’s a major difference between not wanting to do things and creating the conditions to ensure you never have to do them and I’m surprised how often people haven’t done that.
Especially planners.
For example:
Do you know enough people at a high enough level who could be clients?
Do you have the experience that can command the rate you want/need to make?
Do you have the reputation that can protect you from commodification?
Do you have the expertise that ensures you don’t just shitty jobs no one else wants to do?
Do you have the network to ensure your abilities grow rather than stay where they are?
Do you have the commitment to keep learning and developing when it’s all dependent on you?
And while they may sound big questions, they’re not. Not really.
In many ways, they’re the difference between full independence and short-term escape.
I should point out I don’t mean this to sound like criticism.
I also don’t want this to be an obstacle to someone going out on their own.
My intent actually is the opposite. I want more people to prosper on their own terms … and by prosper, I don’t just mean financially, but also professionally and emotionally.
This is not because I am some wannabe Saint, it’s because it’s the only way creativity and strategy can regain the influence, credibility and power over the whims, wants and egos of agencies and companies.
Of course not all agencies and companies are like this … but sadly it seems more are than not.
And the more they try to commoditize the value of the independent professional – and boy, do they want to do that – the more we all end up paying the price.
Because suddenly people have to take whatever they can get.
Have to do whatever someone wants them to do.
Has to accept what someone wants to pay them.
I don’t blame them. Fuck, if I was in their situation, I’d do whatever it took – or whatever I could get – to put food on the table.
But it doesn’t have to be this way, or at least the odds can be improved if we – as an industry – talk more about how to think like an independent rather than talk about the benefits of it.
You see, while I love the sentiment of the artist I interviewed and their definition of ‘working for yourself’, I also deeply value the attitude of Michael Keaton. And maybe you need to embrace both to ensure you can be as free as you choose and be able to stay that way for as long as you want.
Because while the benefits of independence are very easy to see … it takes a fuckload of hard work to achieve it.
But it’s worth it. Or at least worth giving it the right shot to achieve it.
Just ask Zoe Scaman, Graham Douglas, Ruby Pseudo, Jason Bagley, Joy At Large.
And a million others who have done it. Not always the easiest way, but have done it.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Brands, Brilliant Marketing Ideas In History, Cars, Communication Strategy, Context, Creativity, Culture, England, Experience, Insight, Leadership, Legend, Luxury, Management, Marketing, Mercedes, Perspective, Point Of View, Relevance, Reputation, Resonance, Respect, Retail, Strategy, Success
I’m back.
Worse, I’m back and ready to make ‘amends’ for not writing any posts for 5 days … I’m going to be writing some extra-long ones. Even by my overlong standards. However the good news is – unlike my usual standards – they are pretty good. I think. At least some of them.
So years ago I worked with on a global project for Mercedes.
One of the people they said I should meet was a dealer principal of a local Mercedes dealership in Derbyshire, England.
To be honest, I was thrilled as many companies try to keep you away from ‘the coal face’ to ensure their carefully constructed ‘delusion of perfection’ can be maintained … but they were pretty insistent I met this person.
What made it even more intriguing is when I asked them why, they replied, “Oh you’ll see”.
So, a week or so later, I found myself on a train heading to Derby to meet this gentleman.
Now let’s be honest, car salesman have a certain reputation …
A lot of the stereotypes are most likely bullshit – or shaped by a few bad eggs rather than the whole industry – but I admit I went in slightly cautious as to who I’d meet.
But the person I sat down with was one of the sharpest marketers I’ve ever met.
I also loved that – despite owning multiple different Mercedes dealerships, something like 20 – he called himself a ‘car salesman’.
He was passionate about the brand and equally as passionate about selling them and didn’t want to hide that fact.
He also said his Mum had told him she was embarrassed he introduced himself that way to people … which had motivated him to be even more focused on making his business successful.
One of the best examples of his attitude was his story about how he chose where to build a new dealership.
He was going to open a dealership in a new city and wanted it to be where all the competitor car dealerships were located. His attitude was it was better to be where everyone goes than to try and convince people to go somewhere out-the-way, just for him.
Apparently, there were a few available locations he could have built, but he had his heart set on one place … next to the local BMW dealership.
They were something like number 110 and he was going to be 111. [I can’t remember the exact numbers, but you get the point]
Anyway, by his own admission, he overspent on buying the land – but for him, there were three major reasons he wanted to be there.
The first was that he knew BMW was his main competitor and so if he was located next to them, most people in the market for that level of car would end up visiting both dealerships.
The second was that he knew many people saw the BMW and Mercedes brand as interchangeable. By that I mean their ‘quality and status’ were pretty similar so often the choice of vehicle came down to service standards and/or price.
Which led to his 3rd reason …
Because he wanted customers to feel Mercedes was the more ‘prestigious’ car to own before they had even entered the dealership – to increase the odds/desire to own – and so by choosing that specific location, he could run ads that signed off with:
Visit your local Mercedes dealership. One up from BMW.
Yep, he spent all that extra money just so he could do that with his ads.
And you know what?
It worked, because it became the most successful Mercedes dealership in the UK.
Of course, these days no one would ever do that sort of thing – at least in terms of marketing – because you’d have some ‘guru’ state ‘when you use a competitors name in your advertising, you’re promoting your competitor’.
It’s the same myopic thinking that has led to certain clients having a negative reaction to anything they perceive as negative … even if it is [1] just in the brief and/or [2] being used to elevate the value of your brand.
Now you may think this post is going to take a dark turn, but it’s not …
Because I tell this story because I saw something wonderful on Twitter/X about Everton Football club.
A story that reminded me of that Mercedes car salesman and his commitment to always finding ways to paint a particular image in people’s minds.
And while I appreciate in this case, it is so subtle that many may miss it … once you know, you’ll not only node your approval for their genius but – if you’re an Everton Fan – you’ll feel pride that you got one over the ol’ enemy.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, Nottingham
As I am away till next Wednesday on a work trip and I wrote about Dad yesterday to celebrate what would be his 86th birthday … I thought I’d leave you with a post about Mum, to even it all up, haha.
So Mum loved the arts.
Actually, it was more than just love, but curiosity.
Not in a suspicious or judgmental way … but from the perspective of wanting to understand more of it.
Not academically, but more about how the artist approached the work and why.
And it is because of this attitude, Mum was as keen to explore the stuff she didn’t know as much as the stuff she did.
One day she saw an ad for an orchestra coming to Nottingham.
Their name was intriguing – suggesting a new approach or experience of music – so she, along with her neighbours, bought tickets to go and see them at the Royal Concert Hall.
So a few months later, three 80 year olds caught the bus into the city and walked into the venue, only to be a little surprised at what they saw.
Because rather than a stage full of orchestral instruments, they were met with huge amplifiers and a massive lighting rig.
It didn’t take them long to discover why …
Because the orchestra they were seeing was the Electric Light Orchestra.
Also known as ELO, the rock band.
And they loved every single second of it,.
The music, the volume, the musicianship, the drama, the lighting, the whole extravaganza.
I still remember the excitement – and laughter – in Mum’s voice as she told me all about it. But there was one thing above all that stood out – and that was her happiness at discovering, experiencing and exploring a new artistic expression.
Because while she liked – and knew – some of the songs, her biggest joy was the surprise of the unexpected.
Where many would be disappointed to not have what they thought they were getting, Mum was elated.
She understood it was a gift.
A way to see more, feel more, experience more and know more than she did before.
Leaving with more than she went in with … musically, creatively and how people interpret and interact with the World.
But that was her …
A human who not loved to learn for the sheer joy of learning, but had a deep interest in what others are interested in. Even if she didn’t particularly like it, understand it or connect to it.
Because to her, knowledge wasn’t power, appreciation was.
Appreciation earned through listening, learning, experiencing and engaging.
An openness to expression and experience …
It’s why that even in her 80’s she was curious to the new.
Not so she could pretend she was young, but to protect her from becoming old.
By that, I mean in terms of her attitude to life rather than reversing her age.
And as I get older, I realise what an amazing role model she was to me.
To be comfortable with the uncomfortable and curious to the new.
Because while Mum was a person of high standards, morals and values … she never let these become barriers to exploring or welcoming the people and subjects that lived outside of them. Not so she could judge, but so she could grow.
We could do with more people like my Mum these days.
Across all areas of life. From politics to advertising.
Because we see so many people aggressively trying to live in the bubble of their making.
Actively standing in the way of new ideas and ideals … fighting hard to defend what they have or control what they don’t.
Believing they know enough and are enough so stay within the walls of their blinkered, privileged, superficial echo chamber.
Seeing anything different or new as – at best – hard work or, at worst, the enemy.
Living by headlines, not experience, curiosity and understanding.
So while Mum most definitely had her quirks, I’m increasingly grateful that she – and Dad – taught me variety isn’t the spice of life, it’s makes sense of it.
Thank you my dear, wonderful Mum.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Dad, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, Otis, Parents
Today would have been Dad’s 86th birthday.
That means he’s been gone 26 years.
What’s bizarre is I remember the last birthday he had – his 60th – so clearly.
The photo above is from that day.
Part of my reasons for remembering it is because I flew back from Sydney for it. Part of it is because we had bought him a special armchair that allowed him to get in and out of it with ease. And part of it is because he hardly had time to use it, because within months, he was back in hospital – except this time, it would be his final time.
And yet I look back on that day with love.
Sitting next to him.
Looking at his beloved garden.
Having some-sort of conversation about the plants … even though his strokes had robbed him of his ability to talk – bar individual words. In many ways, that was the cruelest thing of all given he was such a wonderful conversationalist. And yet he had – thanks to his tenacity, Mum’s care and speech therapy – found a way to pick out the most perfect word to express what he wanted to communicate. Including when you wish he hadn’t.
I remember when he was later in hospital and there was a male nurse.
Dad kept looking at him intensely and I asked if he wanted anything, to which he replied, “Hate him” very loudly. I don’t know why he felt so much distain towards this person, but he was not the sort to have such an emotional reaction towards anyone without merit.
Mind you, I also remember when another nurse asked him what night-time drink he wanted and he said, “gin” and then laughed proudly to himself for an age.
That is still one of the best memories from one of the worst times of our life.
But then that was Dad …
His ability to make people feel at ease regardless of the challenge they were experiencing.
I think I’ve written about the time he was driving a friend of mine back to their house and casually asked what his parents did for a living. My friend – we were about 15 at the time – replied that his Father had passed away to which Dad then asked what had happened.
I was fuming and embarrassed and told Dad that on the way home.
And while I knew he wouldn’t want to make anyone feel that way, I was angry he’d asked such a personal question to a friend of mine. And I felt that way right until Benny – my friend – told me a couple of days later how grateful he was my Dad had shown interest in him and his Dad because most people immediately changed the subject or just clammed up the moment they heard his Dad had passed.
This moment made a huge impact on me …
Challenging my perceptions and perspectives on how to communicate and interact with others … ultimately demonstrating the foundation of any relationship of worth – whether for life, work or a moment-in-time – is based on your ability to be conversationally intimate and honest.
Of course, to do that means you have to be authentic and considerate, but being interested in what other people are interested in – as opposed to wanting people to be interested in what you want them to be interested in – is the most powerful way to build understanding between people, even when you come from different worlds or perspectives.
That pretty much sums up my Dad and Mum.
The strength of character they had to be transparent and vulnerable
To enable others to feel at ease with their situation and themselves.
To be open to answers or perspectives that were different to theirs. Or even better, be open to their perspective to be changed because they see what works for someone else, doesn’t mean it has to work for them.
But you can only get to that place by creating the conditions for it.
To allow emotional safety.
It’s why I get so angry when people call emotions, a ‘weakness’.
The reality is, if it’s anything, it’s honesty.
A way to build bridges rather than walls.
Of course that doesn’t mean your view is the only right view. Nor does it mean you can act or react any way you want or choose. But it does mean you feel you can express your truth because you know it will be seen and heard by people who actually want to better understand who you are rather than judge what you do.
I got to experience that.
I got to experience that pretty much every day of my life.
And while I didn’t always get the outcome I hoped for. Or realise how amazing it was to be in a place where I was continually encouraged to express and connect. I now appreciate the power of listening to understand.
That should sound obvious, except it isn’t.
Too many people only listen to win. To find holes to poke, push and provoke.
And that’s led us to where we are … a world of division, arrogance, selfishness and blinkered, one-winner-must-take-all competition.
And yet the irony is, when you listen to understand … you still win.
It opens doors.
It creates relationships.
It allows good things to be born and shared.
I know that sounds hippy-like shit, but it’s true.
It’s the reason why Dad was such an amazing lawyer, because he fought for equality rather than one-sided victory.
Equality of rights … consideration … possibilities.
[And if anyone tried to stop that, he would make them pay. A lot. Haha]
Which explains why certain corporations/CEO’s hated him but their employees/families/unions were massive fans of him.
So even though today is Dad’s birthday, he – and Mum – gave me the greatest gift.
I don’t always live up to it, but I always will measure myself against it.
And I hope I can pass that on to Otis.
A gift from his grandparents … a way for them to be part of his life despite sadly never getting to be in his life.
Oh my god, they’d have absolutely loved to play that role and I’d have utterly adored seeing them live it. But alas, things don’t always go to plan … but they ensured their lessons and love remain and flourish.
And boy, do we ever need that right now.
Which is why, while it is Dad’s birthday, he – and Mum – gave me the greatest of gifts.
So Happy Birthday Dad, I love and miss you so much.
Give Mum a big kiss from me.
Rx