This story originates a few years back when I went to get a morning cup of joe and the lady handed over my Starbucks in an unfamiliar cup. The contents were the same, but the packaging was not. Instead of the familiar “green” mermaid, I was greeted with some “brown” lady representing my favorite Seattle coffee brand. I know, I know – they are technically called “sirens”, but whatever. The unexpected graphic bothered me for reasons inexplicable at the time.
A few days later, I realized what was wrong. It was that I had become accustomed to the usual Starbucks branding. So used to it that when I got the “brown” lady Starbucks it literally screwed up my whole mood. It seems stupid, but I literally didn’t enjoy the coffee as much as if the logo had been green. I guess it’s because I came to associate the green logo with a feeling of happiness related to a warm cup of fresh café on a cold morning and I wanted THAT experience, not this “lesser” one. When these elements weren’t aligned, I was off kilter. Blame it on my OCD.
Little did I know this was a great set-up for a later lesson that I would have with one of the artists I was managing then, the teen metal band “Control the Chaos”.
At the time, they were aspiring to bigger things, landing interests from major networks and continuing to strengthen their presence across the west coast. However, they were having an issue understanding the concept of image and branding, so I used both Starbucks and Superman to illustrate a point. I invited the four of them for a quick band meeting at the local coffee shop and drew them in close.
“Look at that far corner,” I began. They all stared in four different directions, so I pointed across the room to my left. “That one over there, with the empty chair and the leftover newspaper on the table. Do you see it?” I asked. The four teenagers nodded in unison.
“Imagine that Superman was sitting there, kickin’ it. Drinking a Starbucks, reading the paper. Chillin’ without a care in the world. Like everyone else in here. What would you think?”
After a slight pause and a brief chuckle, they shared the same response, “Isn’t he supposed to be doing something?”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like saving the world or something big like that?” they responded.
“I don’t know, is he?” I asked again, pushing them to think a little harder about their first reactions. I sensed the wheels starting to turn in their young minds.
It was in that moment that I seized the opportunity to draw the comparison. I told them that as young rock stars in the making, they were doing something very special. Something that very few kids their age are able to do, and even fewer people ever get organized enough to do. I told them that starting a music career is a dreamer’s ambition because the chances of success were slim to begin with. I also told them that if they were going to pursue this seriously, then they shouldn’t think small. They should envision the thing they were trying to become. See it, smell it, taste it and love it to the extent that their daily focus would stay aligned with that goal. You see, we were developing rock stars in this team and as their manager I took the job very seriously – because they asked me to. They didn’t ask for help with their garage band. They begged us to help them be great, to be the BEST. This wasn't a hobby, this was a career choice for them. So we rolled up the sleeves and set out with huge ambitions.
I taught the boys that being a rockstar is the reality equivalent of being a super-hero. I explained how the world looks a bit differently at super-heroes and people like major athletes, millionaires and celebrities. I also warned that those levels of activity and admiration come with a ton of expectation and responsibility.
Together with my co-manager, (Angie) we made sure the boys understood that choosing the profession of rock star came with excitement and fun beyond belief, but it would also be nothing short of extremely hard work and pressure. These were kids, but this wasn't minor-league training. They wanted to go big, so we gave it to 'em straight. We also knew that super-hero ambition takes investing major time and major money.
We also warned that with such a public profession, it may take them having to accept that any typical routine could and might easily be misinterpreted given the scenario. For instance, what if that day back at Starbucks, Superman was simply thirsty or just tired? He deserves a break – but that wasn’t the first impression any of them had. Their first impression was that he simply wasn’t living up to their expectation of a super-hero, much like my first impression of the brown lady Starbucks experience. We explained that "going for it" at the levels they were describing meant that they would be setting some very high expectations along the way.
In the entertainment business, perception is everything. Every moment is for show. Every situation is a stage. Private life is guarded fiercely if it is able to exist at all. For once you get to hangin’ with super-heroes, everything changes.
From every performance after the “Superman at Starbucks” incident, we witnessed four young super heroes on stage. Unstoppable and very impressive. Since then, the boys grew up to experience some special levels of success and accumulated memories that will last a lifetime. Hmmm… perhaps they forgot some of the lessons about Kryptonite (inside story).
I often use this story with new artists to help them understand the difference between playing rockstar and being rockstar and the importance that PROTECTING a consistent brand can have on impression and an entire experience.
Up, Up and away good people!
-Itchy
