Everyone Wants to Be a Rock Star

Yesterday I posted a list of music-centered movies that were some of my favorites and which I thought everyone should see at least once. While I will undoubtedly be adding to the list, I thought it would be a good idea to go into each one a little deeper and explain why I love it so much. As a lot of these flicks have inside jokes all the way through, I’m excited to point out just why some of them are so funny.

Up first, the incredibly underrated movie Rock Star (2001), starring Mark Wahlberg and Jennifer Aniston, among other recognizable names. While I quite like Wahlberg’s performance and Aniston is good as always (and is it just me, or does she just seem to be in everything?), one of the coolest things about this film is the laundry list of actual rockstars that are in it: Jason Bonham (Led Zeppelin/UFO/Foreigner), Zakk Wylde (Ozzy Osbourne/Black Label Society), Jeff Pilson (Dokken), and Stephen Jenkins (Third Eye Blind). Frankly I’d watch it just to see those people in the cast.

(And I promise not to give away anything that’s not in the promotional trailer).

Rock Star; 2001

Rock Star; 2001

The plot itself is a nod to the real-life story of Tim “Ripper” Owens, a Judas Priest fan who ascended to become the new singer of Priest when Rob Halford left to explore his solo project (1996-2003). The movie mirrors Owens’ life so closely, in fact, that the beginning of the film finds Chris “Izzy” Cole (Wahlberg) as the singer of Blood Pollution, a Steel Dragon tribute band (in real life, Owens was the lead singer of British Steel, a Judas Priest tribute band). (Though his part is minor, it’s still really awesome to see Jenkins play the rival singer from the other Steel Dragon tribute band). With his business manager/girlfriend Emily (Aniston) by his side, Cole gets kicked out of his band amid internal conflicts, only to find himself in an audition for the real Steel Dragon following the departure of their original singer.

While Cole explores the trappings and excesses of the late 1980’s hair metal scene in L.A., he soon finds that his Steel Dragon bandmates (played by Bonham, Pilson, and Wylde) don’t exactly view him as an equal, stunting his artistic (and personal) growth. It’s not long before Cole is consumed by the excess and decadence of the glam metal scene, and Emily voices a desire to leave and open a business with her roommate in Seattle (foreshadowing anyone??).

I won’t give too much away, but I will say that the end of the film is a clear nod to the death of the glam metal scene, and the rise of grunge. Without describing too much, pay close attention to Cole’s dress towards the end, and see if he reminds you of anyone (if you’re a music history fan, you should figure it out in about ten seconds).

All in all, Rock Star is just one of my favorite music movies because it’s got a good, simple message, and it’s entertaining to watch. The laundry list of real rockstars in it would give any music addict aneurysms, and the history that’s commented on beneath the surface is pretty cool to see. Not a blockbuster, but still a great film in my opinion.

30 Music Movies You Need to See Right Now

While racing my brain today for a topic to blog about, I found my mind wandering to the music-centered movies that I wanted to watch this weekend. After some listing in my head, that seemed like a cool topic in and of itself, since I find that so many of my favorite music movies go under the radar. As it’s been a while since I last posted a list at all, I figured that today seemed an ideal time to put up a new one. So here are some of the best music movies in my opinion—docu-/rockumentaries, mockumentaries, and just plain good flicks. These are just some of my favorites based on my taste—there are a ton of other amazing music-centered movies out there (in no particular order). Check ’em out:

Mockumentaries

  1. This Is Spinal Tap – 1984

Rockumentaries

  1. About a Son – 2006
  2. 1991: The Year Punk Broke – 1992
  3. Hype! – 1996
  4. PJ20 -2011
  5. LoudQuietLoud: A Film About The Pixies – 2006
  6. The Decline of Western Civilization – 1981
  7. The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years – 1988
  8. The Decline of Western Civilization III – 1998
  9. The White Stripes: Under Great White Northern Lights – 2009
  10. Some Kind of Monster – 2004
  11. Anvil: The Story of Anvil -2008
  12. A Band Called Death – 2012
  13. Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage – 2010
  14. It Might Get Loud – 2008
  15. Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey – 2005

Biopics

  1. 8 Mile – 2002
  2. Walk the Line – 2005
  3. Ray – 2004
  4. The Runaways – 2010
  5. Hysteria: The Def Leppard Story – 2001
  6. What We Do Is Secret – 2008

Fictional

  1. School of Rock – 2003
  2. Rock Star – 2001
  3. Empire Records – 1995
  4. That Thing You Do! – 1996
  5. The Blues Brothers – 1980
  6. High Fidelity – 2000
  7. Almost Famous – 2000
  8. Tommy – 1975

Why I Practice Singing As Much As Pitching

Image courtesy of HamptonsAudioVisualRentals.com

 

Years before I started practicing my business pitch as a CEO, I was practicing how to do two other things in front of people: speak publicly and sing. Exercises in public speaking began as early as grade school, and served me well during science fairs and group presentations. However short-lived my science career turned out to be (another story for another time), the science fairs on the county and state levels bolstered not only a comfort, but an enjoyment in speaking before a crowd.

As I entered high school, though, I began to do something else just as seriously: I began to sing. I began to practice singing as often as I could, and not just in the shower. I was practicing with headphones, a microphone and amplifier setup so I could know exactly how my voice sounded coming through a loudspeaker (of sorts). I was doing the band thing with my friends, and we were going to conquer the world. That meant I needed to be able not only get up in front of a crowd and make some sort of sound come out of my mouth, but I needed to be able to control it.

I needed to be able to control every aspect of my voice: the tone, the inflections, the power, the breath, the range, and the melody. That’s what it took to be a lead-singer and/or rockstar, and that’s what I was going to do. I couldn’t have known it at the time, but all that practice for my music career—understanding the qualities of my voice and what it was (and wasn’t) capable of—is proving invaluable well beyond my intended career as a musician.

I’ve blown my voice out numerous times in the past exploring new ranges, techniques, pronunciations, and vocal styles. I’ve had days where people inquired about my “laryngitis.” But it’s ok, because a day later I’m all ready to go again, and each time I nail a new song and find the delivery that works for my voice, I get to know my own talkbox a little better. With that discovery comes a deeper understanding of how my voice sounds to other; its melody, its tone, its inflections. (It also has helped with my breathing, which is something I believe every public speaker should continually work on).

But the most important thing I’ve grown to have a deeper understanding of is the power and range that my voice can have. That’s something that transcends the rock stage and applies directly to my trajectory now as a CEO. Speaking comes with the territory, and having a notion of my range and potential power is like having an ace up my sleeve. I know how far I can push myself before my voice disappears under too much strain, and I what I can now do to avoid that blowout.

I practice singing any number of things as I continue to test my voice and its boundaries: post-grunge, alternative rock, ska punk, pop, metal, classic rock, rap, reggae, male vocals, female vocals—anything that piques my taste and can give me more of an edge. In retrospect, practicing singing has been as much of an advantage as practicing my business pitch. I would suggest to anyone who spends time speaking in public to start singing—really singing: really try to nail that melody, try to match and control your breathing, find the inflections that work best for you, and find your own power.

Besides, we all wanted to be rockstars at some point, right? Maybe there’s still time for some of us—maybe all of us.

Start Writing—Anything

In a short piece posted earlier this morning, Hunter Walk talked about writing, and how the need to be right is many times what stops people from putting their thoughts out there. Whereas some may seek to “write the definitive post” on a topic as Walk puts it, his advice, rather, is to pick something you’re fairly confident you know about and “riff a bit.” This is directly in line with my thinking when it comes to putting out something with my name on it; do the best I can writing the piece, make sure all basic spelling and grammar is correct, and then see what comes back my way in terms of commentary or questions.

I would, though, dare to take Walk’s advice one step further: if you want to start writing, don’t just write blog posts—write anything. Write news articles to learn how to instigate an investigative process, write essays to learn how to really flesh out an argument, write poetry to better understand the concepts of metaphors and literary devices, do interviews to learn how to speak to people and translate it into compelling writing. Not all of these things will pan out (and you may not enjoy all of them, or even any of them), but in sharpening your teeth on different writing styles, you lear how to mix and match to make your own pieces (blog posts, for example) more powerful.

As you descend into learning each new style in a hands-on way, the need to be right will fade some, and what you come away with is a more comprehensive understanding of presenting and/or winning an argument. The ironic side-effect of this (in my experience as a music journalist) is that people suddenly begin to think of you as a voice to take seriously. Go figure: stop trying to be the definitive voice, and somehow you get closer than you ever were when you were trying!

Of course, there’s an even more basic reason to write (and very much a reason I do): it helps the mind to work through new concepts and move the creative process along. Don’t worry too much about being right—just write.

Fred Wilson Believes in Things That Everyone Else Thinks Are Wrong (But Are Actually Right)

A couple of weeks ago I attended the LAUNCH Festival in San Francisco, where I saw a number of amazing speakers over a three-day period. Needless to say the cross-country trip from Atlanta was worth it. However, despite the fact that there were numerous speakers whose points have stuck in my head since then (particular favorites of mine were Yancey Strickler (Kickstarter), Jeff Weiner (LinkedIn), Chris Sacca (VC) and Tony Hawk (yes I’m a huge fan of skating and the Brown Brigade)), the speaker whose comments were most easily accessible to me was Fred Wilson (Union Square Ventures).

Since the wrap-up of the festival, Jason Calacanis has published a couple of posts and tweets noting the fact that his fireside chat with Wilson was one of the most popular interviews of the whole event. This I readily believe, as I sat with rapt attention as Wilson discussed a number of topics. Actually, Wilson made so many good points during his chat that I need to dissect it through a number of posts rather than in just one.

Of particular interest to me though was one thing that Wilson said. It clearly demonstrated to me his line of thinking when it came to identifying new companies that he liked to become (or was likely to become) involved in: “Believe in something that everyone thinks is wrong (but actually turns out to be right).”

That terse statement, which Wilson actually attributes as something Bill Gurley once wrote, underscored his thinking when it comes to herd-mentality and how he identifies opportunities. While I’m sure there are certainly other factors at play, the qualifier word “wrong” is an interesting choice for his (Gurley’s) adage; it implies quite clearly that he identifies opportunities not only in areas or with companies that might be viewed as rare or unconventional, but ones which may be entirely against the grain of “logical” thinking at the time. This by extension highlights the fact that one can expect Wilson’s current and future investments to be in areas or companies wherein others might not dare even entertain the notion of involvement. He benefits from the fear factor that clears the road in front of him to make it an open highway while others see the words “do not enter.” [1]

Though I’ve followed Wilson’s blog for some time now, since LAUNCH I’ve been reading his posts with this new thought in mind. With each new post I read, there’s now that nagging question in the back of my mind: “what’s the thing in this post that Wilson has identified that others think is flat-out wrong (but is actually right)?” There isn’t always a phrase with a blinking sign screaming “it’s me!” but the point remains that with each subsequent post comes a learning opportunity to go back and reexamine a possibility that I might have dismissed earlier as a “do not enter” sign.

I’m interested to see Wilson’s posts over the next month or so. I’m curious to see what piques his interest enough to blog about it that others may have already dismissed or avoided. I suspect that Wilson’s thought process might very well be as alternative as his Egon Schiele-esque Twitter profile pic (by the way Fred, kudos on that; art-history nerds like me rejoice in the fact that so many within the tech industry use so much modern art imagery). I believe that’s precisely how he’s able to identify opportunities that others miss, or dismiss altogether.

 

Thanks to Dad for reading drafts of this.

 

Notes


[1] Wilson also stated that he had been on the board of a non-profit called DonorsChoose for a few years, which, as he put it, “does exactly, exactly what Kickstarter does” for teachers and public schools. As a result of his involvement with this previous venture, which was raising between $30-40M at the time, Wilson notes that he had a bit of an inside look at the very sort of mechanism upon which Kickstarter was building.

Mean People Fight; Creative People (Sometimes) Argue

In his essay “Mean People Fail” a few months ago, Paul Graham has provided more food for thought (for me, at least) than much of anything I’ve read of late. [1] The essay itself is a clear caution against acting nastily to others, as such actions can impede or prevent one’s intended goals. Most of the themes discussed therein I agree with readily as they are so common-sense that to disregard such proposals seems utterly preposterous.

There is, however, one area which Graham touches on lightly that I feel needs a little more attention. Graham’s short paragraph on fighting is truthful (I believe) in its intended message and account of reality. However, we all speak from our own experiences, and I feel that the term “fighting” may be too broad a term, particularly for an industry as genuinely artistic and creative as startups and tech. While I understand Graham’s point here (he is undoubtedly using the term “fighting” to refer to pointless disagreements, high tempers, and accusatory tones that lead nowhere), I think a deeper examination is warranted.

I fear the term “fighting” may be overrepresented in cases where the term “arguing” fits more appropriately. In an industry where creativity and outthinking the competition are not only realities but necessities for successful startups, it may very well be in times of arguing differing views that an answer or pivot point presents itself. Good answers and opportunities do not always appear within the vacuum of “a good day” and sometimes take a little more pressure to fully crystalize.

Much like the music industry where arguments between band members or artists and producers can (and many times do) produce the best creative results, arguing is not only a luxury but a necessity. The creative frustration can at times reach a critical mass before a meltdown occurs. But if the proper alternative lines of thinking are presented at the right time, then that critical mass not only returns to normal, but can yield a result not viewable before the high rise of creative pressure and focus. It is this creative force which drives many musicians, and which I’m sure can be likened to the creative drive to build that drives those within the tech space.

Creation is a messy, dissonant, sometimes quite frustrating process. But it’s precisely that power and sheer will to succeed that many of the great ideas (albums) are born from. Graham is not wrong about his discussion of fighting; pointless accusations and infighting drain a startup’s (as well as a band’s) lifeforce and ability to thrive (it’s this definition of “fighting” that I am convinced Graham is referencing in his essay). A band, like a startup, is very much like a marriage: both are living, breathing organisms, requiring constant care, adjustment, and which, at times, can become arenas for argument and restructuring. But, though the prospect of adjustment may pose a distasteful reality for a startup team, it could lead to bigger and better things. Then you go from being Iron Maiden with Paul Di’Anno to being Iron Maiden with Bruce Dickinson. [2]

 

Thanks to Mom, Dad, Charles Jo, Terrence Yang, and Scott Menor for reading earlier drafts of this.

 

Notes


[1] This essay does not reflect the beliefs of Paul Graham or any of those mentioned in his “Thanks” section, except where the original essay’s thesis was referenced. These are merely my own thoughts on the the thesis that Graham presented in his original text.

[2] Though I prefer the lead vocals of Bruce Dickinson, I quite like the Paul Di’Anno releases of Iron Maiden (1980) and Killers (1981) as well, since both albums are notable in their own rights. However, it is indisputable that Iron Maiden grew to new heights under Dickinson’s leadership, thus the point of the example in the essay.

Their Response Was Not a Fuckup; It Was Exactly Right

Just a few minutes ago, Product Hunt CEO Ryan Hoover posted a tweet and article on Medium acknowledging what he called a terrible fuckup; Product Hunt’s validation programming had made the erroneous assumption that all founders are male by using the article “his” when discussing validated identity.

Screenshot of tweet to Product Hunt, earlier today 2/19/15

Screenshot of the tweet to Product Hunt, earlier today 2/19/15

The reaction from Hoover and Product Hunt to the tweet was exactly what it should have been: mortification at such a presumptuous error, speedy rectification of the problem, a personal apology to Allyson (the tweeter), and an immediate blog post owning up to the misstep for others to be mindful of. Frankly I would have been impressed by the first two things; but to see all this unfold in sequence in an expedited manner reaffirmed the reasons I use PH, and why I consider them an example of a company to emulate.

Response tweet by Ryan Hoover to the discovered problem

Response tweet by Ryan Hoover to the discovered problem

 

The corrected response on Product Hunt

Screenshot of the corrected response on Product Hunt

I have to give it up to the whole PH team; it’s not easy to admit a mistake, particularly when it’s brought to one’s attention in such a public arena. But they really went above and beyond in their response, and the subsequent Medium piece by Hoover really underscored their commitment to gender equality that I very much respect them for.

Well done PH, take a bow. We should all strive to be as good as this.

 

Notes

[1] The images used in this post were taken from Ryan Hoover’s original Medium blog post.

Why Music Journalism Bias Works

A Shopworn Adage

When I began music blogging, one of the first things I heard repeated over and over was the phrase, “you need to be unbiased in your journalism.” I heard it even more when I shifted my focus from writing about artists that everyone already knew about to ones that people should know about. As I retuned my radar (under the moniker Underground Takeover) to scan for artists that were up and coming, I noticed that the skepticism became more palpable; it seemed that writing a post slamming a new artists—being “unbiased”—was somehow a badge of honor that marked one as “a real journalist.” Yet something didn’t fit.

Me with Those Mockingbirds at The Middle East in Cambridge, MA, 3/9/14

Me with Those Mockingbirds at The Middle East in Cambridge, MA, 3/9/14

The shopworn adage that music journalists should be and need to be unbiased when reviewing music doesn’t work in practice simply because it’s based upon a flawed premise. Non-bias works well in coverage of politics and economics—however, it does not work well within the realm of music and art. Music is an individualized, subjective response to the world or to life by each respective artist. It is a contradiction in terms to try to judge that individualized, subjective response by an impersonal, objective standard, even assuming that we could agree on what that standard is. In addition to that internal contradiction, the fact is that so-called “objective” music journalism is unenjoyable to read either by the music fan or by the artist. Indeed, I didn’t—and still don’t—like writing negative music journalism. Concluding that a work of music is either “great” or “terrible,” or somewhere in between, fails to provide the reader with an understanding of the artist’s intent, or worldview, or what the artist was seeking to express by his or her creation.

Music At Its Core

At its very core, music is simply another form of art; an expression by one or more creative minds of how they see and interact with the world. As with all forms of art, you either like something or you don’t. You may like it somewhat, or it may grow on you after a period of time. All of these possibilities have nothing to do with how “good” or “bad” something is. Within the context of art, concepts of “good” and “bad” don’t exist. How can they? I’m not much of a Rolling Stones fan, but there are a ton of people who are. I’d prefer to listen to a Wipers album (if you know who the Wipers are, then I’m impressed), but my preference doesn’t make me right or wrong.

What I learned from my days in music journalism is that, regardless of what one might glean from watching Almost Famous or reading Rolling Stone, today’s world with the internet and plethora of music blogs and journalists has brought about the democratization of music journalism. This has created a new view of music journalists within the music community, both by artists and by journalists as well. This new perspective is that if you write negative pieces, you’re just some fool with a laptop and internet connection; but if you write positive pieces, then you become a credible news source. And amazingly, this new understanding of music journalism is held as much by music fans as by the artists themselves. After all, when someone attacks an artist I love as “derivative” and “overdriven,” then that journalist attacks me by extension, an action which does not engender a positive feeling in me for the writer.

Me with Sunshine & Bullets at Smith's Olde Bar in Atlanta, GA, 7/5/14

Me with Sunshine & Bullets at Smith’s Olde Bar in Atlanta, GA, 7/5/14

I expect that the established music journalism world will say that without articles ripping new album releases, music fans will be unable to know what’s “good” and what’s not. But as demonstrated already, that line of thinking is flawed in itself since the notions of “good” and “bad” don’t exist within the confines of art at all. You either like something or you don’t—”good” or “bad” simply don’t enter into the equation. (Outside the scope of music journalism, interestingly enough, Marc Andreessen makes a similar point about journalism in general in the new age here, when he spoke last year at Stanford).

I do not advocate for writing positive pieces about music one doesn’t like. If you don’t like a piece of music, it’s impossible to fake a positive review written well enough to fool a reader. Thus it becomes clear that one should write about the music that really resonates with one’s personal tastes. Don’t write rap music journalism if you’re a punk fan. But the flip side is also true: when you’re writing about something you absolutely love and can barely contain yourself long enough to lay the words down on paper because you’re dying to get back to that song again—well your audience can also tell that, and from my experience, that’s when you have them hooked.

Don’t Be “The Enemy”

The added benefit to writing positive pieces about music you like is that you very quickly begin to develop relationships with those very artists. You will no longer be held at arm’s length—as “the enemy” portrayed in Almost Famous. Instead, as you become as much of a fan as those who attend the artists’ shows, you will benefit from reciprocal artist loyalty in most cases that becomes indispensable to you as a writer. I could never have imagined how much reputation is tied to what and how you write until I started getting emails from friends of friends of artists I’d reviewed, asking me to review or interview bands they knew, or their own bands. This opened me up to opportunities I’d never even considered but retrospectively was so lucky to be able to be exposed to (something that Steven Sinofsky talked about here, when he spoke at UC Berkley last year).

Me with June Divided at Warped Tour Atlanta, 2012

Me with June Divided at Warped Tour Atlanta, 2012

Within my own universe I began to do things I’d never thought of. Writing music articles turned into artists seeking me out to do interviews (and making themselves readily available to do so), artists sharing demo mixes with me weeks or even months before final products were released, and artists asking for my opinion, initially just as a fan and eventually as a friend. It’s a wonderful feeling to see your name in the liner notes of an album by an artist you so doggedly support.

Through all of these experiences, I became privy to things that I never could have, had I been shut out as the “enemy journalist.” Having a reputation as an “album killer” may be good for climbing the corporate ladder at an established music magazine, but it’s counterproductive in the real world of music. If you want to sit behind a desk all day and write reviews that will garner views because of how ruthless they are, by all means do that. But if you got into music journalism to talk to artists (which I do daily), to go to shows and (very possibly) get waved past security backstage (which I have been often), to get press access to festivals like Warped Tour (draw your own conclusions here), and grow a reputation as someone to be in contact with within your industry (draw your own conclusions here too), then I highly suggest reaching out with a positive keyboard to this industry.

 

Thanks to Dad, Charles Jo, Scott Menor, and Terrence Yang for reading drafts of this.

55 Seminal Artists Who Have Never Won a Grammy Award

The Shammys (Grammys) are upon us yet again, and in honor of the season, I thought it appropriate to take a few minutes to examine the shockingly long list of amazing artists who never won a Grammy Award (specifically not having won an award, not taking into account nominations or Grammy Lifetime Achievements).

Photo Courtesy: Frenchculture.org

Photo Courtesy: Frenchculture.org

Here’s 55 Grammy Award snubs. Buckle up, this is going to absolutely floor you:

  1. Jimi Hendrix
  2. The Kinks
  3. The Doors
  4. Queen
  5. The Grateful Dead
  6. Boston
  7. Janis Joplin
  8. Guns N’ Roses
  9. The Who
  10. Rush
  11. ZZ Top
  12. Buddy Holly
  13. Patti Smith
  14. Ramones
  15. Talking Heads
  16. The Stooges
  17. Mötley Crüe
  18. KISS
  19. The Pretenders
  20. ABBA
  21. The Smiths
  22. Sex Pistols
  23. The Velvet Underground
  24. Public Enemy
  25. Dusty Springfield
  26. Morrissey
  27. Oasis
  28. Deep Purple
  29. Journey
  30. The Strokes
  31. Creedence Clearwater Revival
  32. Queens of the Stone Age
  33. Bob Marley
  34. Led Zeppelin
  35. Bjök
  36. Run-D.M.C.
  37. Tupac Shakur
  38. Nickelback
  39. Diana Ross
  40. The Everly Brothers
  41. The Notorious B.I.G.
  42. Snoop Dogg
  43. Parliament &/or Funkadelic
  44. Chuck Berry
  45. Jackson Brown
  46. New Order
  47. Depeche Mode
  48. Iggy Pop
  49. Kid Rock
  50. Nas
  51. Sly & the Family Stone
  52. Katy Perry
  53. The Jackson 5
  54. Spice Girls
  55. Curtis Mayfield

Up next, we pick apart the truly awful admittance list (and snub list) for the Rock & Roll Hall of Shame. While the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inducts amazing artists every year, their inductions of non-rock artists, and snubs of truly seminal rock acts is just absolutely shameful. Other non-rock artists certainly deserve to be honored, but its the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, not the Music Hall of Fame. But that’s another argument for another day. For now, catch your breath on that truly shocking list above, and brace yourself for this year’s unavoidable “what the hell??” snubs.

Flexibility in a Deviceless Atmosphere

Mattermark CEO Danielle Morrill just published a Medium post detailing her transition from being a laptop-laden executive to living (work) life sans laptop. According to her post, she now relies on four main devices, only two of which account for work-based devices: 1) 5K iMac with iMac Cinema Display (work), 2) older iMac version (home), 3) 13″ MacBook Pro (home), and 4) iPhone 6+ (work and home).

One of the reasons she notes for her transition to fewer devices in her work life is the health benefits that come with such a transition (under the subtitle “Walking More”). Short and to the point, her basic explanation is that the changeover has allowed her to begin taking part in a healthier lifestyle. As Morrill notes, laptops are heavy (relative to an iPhone, for example), and carrying one back and forth to work can certainly be a tax on one’s back and muscles. I know—I carry mine everywhere when I go out to Starbucks to get some work done or to a business meeting.

Yet one of the things that Morrill lightly touched on was her desire to walk more to and from the office, and reap the benefits of being able to do so sans laptop. This struck a particular chord with me because of the amount of physicality that’s associated with my own job.

Being in the music business can be physically taxing: nights spent at shows—standing in dive bars or clubs—for hours on end waiting to speak to artists after the set-list finishes can be a challenge sometimes. While I’m certainly not in the habit of bringing my laptop out to a show (nor would I bring a tablet), reliance on my iPhone is just half of the equation; the other half is being able to stand for that 4-6 hour window—oftentimes in a smoke-filled (dingy) atmosphere next to sweaty bodies (and even sometimes in a moshpit)—and remain limber enough to talk to that artist after the show and project a professional vitality on par with their high of playing to an audience. In this industry, if you can’t project that to an artist, you have close to nothing.

And that’s the reason Morrill’s piece resonates with me on such a deep level: though we work in completely different industries, her thoughts about moving around unencumbered—”No backpack. No purse. No laptop[,]” as she puts it—are sentiments that hit me directly precisely because they can and do apply so much to the music business. Running a tech startup is a challenge, but the ability to transition between tech CEO and music industry professional is critical; perhaps so much so because one must be able to talk with and pitch artists most times without any graphs, slideshows, or devices available—you need to be able to speak their language, and that most times consists of nothing more than a vision, a business card and damn pitch.

So while Morrill’s experience in transitioning to a lesser device-filled professional track comes from experience in a different industry, the basic premise of health and flexibility carries over in a very palpable way. I look forward to (and hope to see) Morrill writing a further update on the changeover; in a funny way, it provides a good roadmap for those of us with highly physical jobs to see how one can be simultaneously flexible and productive.