Perfection vs. Improvisation
This is not a debate.
Not in music circles, anyway.
In the marketing marketplace, however, the stage is still set—though the lights are dimming. Marketing and Advertising are finally emerging from the Classical era and into the birth of Jazz.
My good friend Andew Eklund, CEO of Ciceron, laid out his stump speech on this topic over at Minnesota Business the other day. Well said, Andrew!
I figured, since I picked up a degree in Jazz (University of Cincinnati College Conservatory of Music, B.A. '92), I ought to riff a little, too.
As Andrew puts it:
"Today's marketing executives got to where they are by executing marketing when it was in its 'classical music' stage. Classical music is a genre that does not take to making mistakes lightly. In fact, there is no room for error in classical music.'"
Dig that.
The pursuit of perfection as a cause unto itself was then. Or as the retired management consultant and Netflix Prize Challenger Gavin Potter described it in Wired, "The 20th century was about sorting out supply. The 21st is going to be about sorting out demand."
Figuring out supply is a quest for perfection. Figuring out demand requires a different set of equally exacting skills.
Jazz is about the now. Jazz is created on the spot, in response to circumstances—just like so much of modern socially mediated-marketing.
If you listen to Thelonious Monk or Charles Mingus, you soon realize improvisation can be perfection. Jazz at its best creates beauty on the fly, the result of listening (being "in the moment") and preparation (e.g. "muscle memory"). Jazz is not, however, an accident. Nor is without rules or theory. I recall an interview with the saxophonist Branford Marsalis describing free jazz as an art form best appreciated and articulated by musicians with tremendous skill and preparation.
In other words, the more you practice, the more you prepare for any outcome—by being aware of your surroundings, your brand story (e.g. the tune you're playing), your team mates, audience and culture—the better your response will be in the moment.
That's the discipline we need in marketing now.
The Classical era dictated a rigid hierarchy: A score composed by very few, conducted by even fewer, performed in lock-step by a clearly structured team for an audience corralled for the occasion. And while this kind of command and control approach to music and marketing created incredible results, it stumbled in the face of outside ideas and changing culture. The team couldn't react swiftly if the music blew away, or if the conductor failed to show up. And the audience knew one rule above all others: Shut Up While The Orchestra Is Performing.
The Jazz era begs no less professionalism or skill.
The story (the tune) still sits at the center. Without a brand story, the music of marketing goes nowhere. In the Jazz era, however, that story is open to interpretation, evolution and mutation based on a set of rules and understanding and group collaboration.
Success is still measured in applause and repeat attendance. Classical or Jazz, you still need to make the outcome remarkable.
But the new scene does demand a different understanding.
The audience is involved now. Just compare any live classical recording to a jazz recording—the biggest difference is audience participation. We need to encourage them to call the tunes and hoop and holler and maybe even sit in with the band.
The band is smaller. No disrespect to orchestras—but that model just doesn't jive these days, unless you've got really big global budgets. The Jazz era of Marketing requires teams of soloists working together towards a common tune. We've still got to make music, with fewer players. That means the kind of marketing we make has to change; the pacing, execution and performance practice has to evolve.
Lambert, Hendricks and Ross captured the spirit thusly in "Twisted":
My analyst told me (what?)
That I was right out of my head
The way he described it (how?)
He said I'd be better dead than live
I didn't listen to his jive
I knew all along
he was all wrong
And I knew that he thought (what?)
I was crazy but I'm not
0h no (on no?) (oh no?)
That I was right out of my head
The way he described it (how?)
He said I'd be better dead than live
I didn't listen to his jive
I knew all along
he was all wrong
And I knew that he thought (what?)
I was crazy but I'm not
0h no (on no?) (oh no?)
