Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Shovels Not Grails

Let's Get Digging
This week, a good friend and better business associate may complete a quest.

It's taken years of his life and tens of thousands of hours of work, but he's attracted great partners, and the business is nearly complete on a life changing round of funding. Soon after that, we may witness the spread of this tech for marketing and advertising professionals.

Exciting times! (And yes, I'm hoping to work with him on it, mostly because he inspires me to do good work, and you really want to spend your time with people like that.)

Why is his tech life changing? Because he's made something that other people will use to solve a problem and chase their dreams. More importantly, he's done it with a solution that is completely self serve, easy to use, and (this is critical) limited in scope. Instead of threatening the current way of doing things for people in the space, it's just a supremely cool thing that they will use to be more effective. Without a ramp-up period, a forced breaking of silos, or a lockout of current partners.

You can explain his solution in a sentence. Without leaving out stuff that some clients will value, while others ignore.

In other words, he's not selling the Holy Grail.

He's selling the shovel that you need to find it.

(Much better business than Grails, honestly. Also, he's not going to use the shovel for you.)

Part of this echoes what many of the start ups that I've worked for in the past two decades have looked to do. But while it's easy to state your vision, the details of what's involved (primarily account management and customer success) usually destroys those intentions. Clients want to know what you know, have you do things for them that they would rather not, or expand the use of your tool into areas that it might not support to the same level of expertise.

Your customers aren't wrong to want these things, of course. Their concern about your business model probably doesn't go beyond polite interest, and at the end of the day, everyone just wants to solve their own problems, not yours.

With your solution or someone else's, with the usual mix of great, cheap and fast (pick two!) impacting their business decision.

More about this soon, I hope. (And yeah, I'm under NDA, which explains all of the vagueness.)

Monday, April 8, 2019

The Peril of Perfection

The Gong Is Necessary
Back in my pre-marketing and advertising past, I was a musician.

Well, to be completely honest about it, I was a singer/songwriter, who also bankrolled a band. Musicians, generally, have more skill in their instruments than I do, and I was never completely secure in the title. I worked hard at it, took voice lessons, thought about it all the time, and hustled up hundreds of gigs. We completed four recording projects and I don't regret the experience.

Anyway, back to the story. (I promise this will have something to do with marketing and advertising. Honest.)

We had a drummer that wanted to be John Bonham (that's the guy who played for Led Zeppelin, and is also pictured above). Which is a fine thing for a drummer to want to be, honestly. But his ambitions, at least at the point in time when we recorded, weren't quite up to his chops.

On a specific track in question, he was trying to execute a particular difficult part, and he didn't quite get it right. It was close, but it wasn't in the exact point. He could have just done something simpler, but that wasn't where his art demanded him to be.

Enter technology.

At the time, we were recording on analog tape, which is prized by many recording musicians and studio engineers for its warmth. The story goes is that since digital music is all just 1s and 0s, you don't get the full nuance. (It's a similar story with people who prefer vinyl.)

Which means that you can only edit, or "punch", the tape so much before the tape degrades. And if you are editing the music in question, you have to be extremely exact, and maybe even break out a razor and do splice work, to get a "correct" track.

Which is how we spent way too much time into the wee hours of a Saturday night / Sunday morning, at billable hours, to get a single drum hit in a complicated fill to move a fraction of a percentage of a second... all so the drummer was happy. (Well, more relieved than happy.)

To him, that fix meant everything. It meant that he could hear the song in the future without dwelling on his mistake, that he could take pride in ownership, and that his dreams of sounding like his hero weren't beyond his grasp.

Needless to say, no other person in the world noticed it.

Also, everyone else in the room wanted to murder him.

Which leads me back to digital advertising, and our nearly limitless ability to get things just, exactly, perfect. Often, to the pixel.

And which leaves me thinking, far too often, about my old drummer.

And how often people need to be just like him...