Staying interesting
How to avoid your campaigns feeling stale, like late-period albums from 90s bands.
In many ways, making an album is like coming up with a comms campaign. Making an album is a challenging and time-consuming process - just like planning a campaign. Musicians write, rehearse, arrange and then record their songs. We devise tactical executions to bring our core creative theme to life. Both endeavours end with a final polish and approval.
Both aim to create something that feels fresh and original on release and captures the media's and public's attention. Both are desperate to retain that talkability and claim a place in history. Touchpoints future generations can revisit to enjoy and inspire.
But equally, making albums and generating campaign ideas can become more difficult as the years go by.
This year, inspired by this post by Kevin Smokler, I've been doing complete listen-throughs of the albums by some of my favourite artists. For some bands, this was a different way to listen to a whole bunch of albums I loved. Listening to Bleach and Nevermind back to back made me investigate the journey between the two albums more closely. Such a giant creative leap rarely comes out of nowhere; recutting Incesiticide into its chronologically recorded order revealed the band's progress more starkly.
For other bands, it meant listening to late-career albums for the first time (or for what felt like the first time). For example, I knew Pearl Jam and Smashing Pumpkins were still going, but I always prefer to defer to Vitalogy or Siamese Dream. Making time for these "post-heyday" albums made me contemplate the challenge of maintaining freshness and originality.
With Pearl Jam and Smashing Pumpkins, there weren't any absolute stinkers in their discography (although I doubt I'll ever listen to Adore again). What struck me most was how unmemorable the later albums were. They tended to blend into one another - even if I did some light-touch reading alongside listens (Wikipedia), little stood out. This was particularly the case for albums where the Wikipedia entry included a line from the band that they wanted to "get back to our classic sound". That never works out.
In my opinion, the best of Pearl Jam's most recent releases come from the band deliberately NOT sounding like the "classic" Pearl Jam of Ten and Vs. Don't be like Mourinho - never go back.
I sometimes feel this way coming up with ideas for clients or sectors I know well. The effect is amplified when there's a tight deadline - sometimes you go with what's worked in the past in the same way a band (even The Beatles did this) reach for an old song they never released to complete an album and meet a deadline.
Sometimes you can feel trapped by your circumstances. The seasonality of a brief, the cyclical nature of product releases (imagine having to do Call of Duty every year), even your own institutional knowledge. It can make the process stagnant - happily, for most agencies and brands, we don't have a legion of fans who may react negatively to a brand-new musical direction.
We can also bring new people into our creative and strategy bands without having to answer questions about what this means for the future of Radiohead (as a live example). New influences, inputs, and people can help you break out of a creative rut and make your new album campaign sound great.
Sometimes also, you need a break. In agency land, some of us have that luxury - we can step away from an account and try something new without burning our bridges and citing "musical differences" as a reason for leaving. Often time away with other clients generates an idea you can bring back to blow that original client away.
Ultimately, making albums and campaigns that feel fresh over a long period is tough. Still, it can be achieved through some choice experimentation, no shortage of hard work and a willingness to put yourself in some uncomfortable situations now and then. That way, you can feel more confident about sounding more like David Bowie (known for reinvention) and less like Status Quo (who stick to what they know).
Thanks for reading my Substack this year - I really do appreciate it. As a bonus to this music-themed post, I've included a run-down of my top ten albums of the year. I've put together a top ten since 2002 when I used to be responsible for collating the overall office top ten (aka how I honed my Excel skills). It represents a snapshot of my music taste in time. Hope you enjoy it.
Wet Leg - Wet Leg
I didn't share my Spotify Wrapped anywhere on socials, but the top five songs were all by Wet Leg, with Chaise Longue right at the top of that list. While I listen to a range of music, I'm an indie kid and a sucker for a fresh new band giving some life to guitar music in the 2020s. NGL, though, I was amazed they weren't a bunch of 20-year-olds from California. If you try one song, make it: Chaise Longue.
Porridge Radio - Waterslide, Diving Board, Ladder To The Sky
A trend in guitar music over the past few years - vocalists who speak rather than sing. I'm not a fan. I'm sure Yard Act are great, but they're not for me. Porridge Radio are close to this vibe, but singer Dana Margolin does actually sing. She has an excellent, deadpan, drawled-out delivery, which their post-punk guitar sound complements perfectly. If you try one song, make it: Back To The Radio.
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Cool It Down
As my friend Kelly said when I asked how the Yeah Yeah Yeahs remain utterly magnificent after over 20 years in the game, "quality over quantity". Eight songs delivered in just over half an hour, but all with that signature YYYs vibe of effortless cool. What a great album cover too. If you try one song, make it: Spitting Off The Edge Of The World.
Sharon Van Etten - We've Been Going About This All Wrong
Another thing I'm a sucker for - a great album title. We've Been Going About This All Wrong is a shining example, and Sharon Van Etten continues to set the bar as one of the pre-eminent singer-songwriters. On this record, her guitars are back but this time sitting alongside the signature big synths from her last album. If you try one song, make it: Anything.
Kendrick Lamar - Mr Morale & the Big Steppers
Kendrick stole the show at Glastonbury, and the songs from his latest album slotted neatly alongside his more established material. But this was another bold move from a rapper determined to carve his own path with his career. A dense, sprawling concept album focused on his "therapy journey", like all of his output, it rewards time and effort. I'm looking forward to the inevitable Dissect series on it. If you try one song, make it: Die Hard.
Foals - Life Is Yours
One of the bands I did a listen-through journey on this year was Foals. I loved their first two albums, both absolute classics I listen to all the time. I saw them live on the Holy Fire tour and wasn't feeling what I saw as a conscious "commercial" move, so I pretty much tuned out since then. But I heard "2001" on 6Music, and decided to try again - and this album was an unexpected joy. Indie-dance-math-rock joy. If you try one song, make it: 2am.
The Smile - A Light For Attracting Attention
The Radiohead subreddit took time out from arguing about which album is "under-rated" to speculate endlessly on whether the existence of The Smile means the end of Radiohead. Clearly, The Smile aren't Radiohead - musically, it's a bit more straightforward and leans more heavily into Thom's desire to dance at every opportunity. But while it's probably a bit long, it's another chance to marvel at Thom Yorke's vocal and songwriting ability. If you try one song, make it: Free In The Knowledge.
Fontaines DC - Skinty Fia
Fontaines DC are the complete opposite of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs from an output POV - their third album in four years heads down a darker, more contemplative path than the punky upstart nature of Dogrel. This is one band you can see evolving in real-time, and what a joy it is to watch. If you try one song, make it: Jackie Down The Line.
Angel Olsen - Big Time
And speaking of artists regularly reinventing themselves, Angel Olsen is another prime example. I'm still in love with the sparse, spare sound of 2020's Whole New Mess, but I was equally enthralled by Big Time. It has a real country-infused vibe, which is not my usual type of music but twinned with Olsen's ruminations on love and loss, it creates an album of warmth and charm. If you try one song, make it: Ghost On.
Danger Mouse & Black Thought - Cheat Codes
I love both reading and writing end-of-year lists. And generally, when I put my own list together, one album sneaks in at the end from a best-of-the-year recommendation. So big thanks to Rough Trade for turning me onto Cheat Codes, a collab between producer Danger Mouse and Black Thought of The Roots. I've not listened to nearly enough new hip hop this year, and this album more than made up for it with its myriad guest stars rapping over classic soul beats and samples. If you try one song, make it: Because.