I Just Want To Tell You Five Things...
From: Joe Fleischer <[email protected]>
Date: Tues, 31 Jan 2012 18:23:06 -0800
To: Team Champagne
Subject: FW: I just want to tell you five things
From: Eric Garland <[email protected]>
Date: Tues, 31 Jan 2012 18:21:18 -0800
To: Joe Fleischer
Subject: I just want to tell you five things
1. You should try to be born an anesthesiologist.
2. Itâs the people, stupid (not the stupid people).
3. Itâs the stories you tell.
4. Be good. Be persistent. But, mostly, be fortunate.
We started a company. We grew a company. A Fortune 500 company offered to invest in our company and then they acquired our company. And now theyâre supporting us in making it bigger and better.
We have chairs. Weâre filling those chairs with outstanding people. And Iâm almost all talked out about every last exciting little bit of it. I just want to tell you (and my young daughters) five things Iâve learned along the way:
1. You should try to be born an anesthesiologist.
Or a software developer. Or a banker. If you can.
I donât mean try to be a doctor or a lawyer or whatever. Thatâs a terribly misguided thing to do, to try to tell someone what to be. What I mean is: try to be born that way. Because doing something you love (all day, every day) may be important.[1] And if you could choose to love banking or coding or doctoring â well, thatâs a nice life! Ask anyone.
Of course, you probably have no say in this.
Yeeeeees, I know, I know. You have a choice, you can choose to do this or that. I know piles of litigators and physicians and CFOs who werenât born to do it, donât like doing it, and are very âsuccessful,â blah blah blah, at it nonetheless.[2] What I mean is just this: envy those lawyers whose souls burn for their litigation work! Envy those CPAs who dream in spreadsheets!
Because I was born an entrepreneur. And some of my favorite people in the world were born artists and musicians.
And entrepreneurs and artists and musicians share an affliction. My friend Jill Sobule was the first person to point this out to me. Iâm paraphrasing, so just know that she said something like the following, only clever-er:
âYou think Iâd do this if I had a choice? I do this because I have to! I should do something sensible, or something that makes a lot of money.â
When Jill Sobule says she âhas to,â she means love is a drug. And that we canât take the blue pill (even if itâs good for us). Our hearts beat for the red pill!
Iâm saying this to you, kids: itâs easier to do âsomething sensibleâ with your life. But only if you are lucky enough to love doing something sensible. Seeking real emotional fulfillment from your work and finding it only in entrepreneurial pursuits⊠is harder.[3] Objectively hard, even. But if you are a red pill addict, mourn the addiction and then give in to it. Youâre going to spend your life (usually in California) with all the other addicts. Nothing else will do.
And speaking of life among the addictsâŠ
2. Itâs the people, stupid (not the stupid people[4]).
Many red pill people are addicted, afflicted and flat-out defective: narcissistic, childish, explosive, tyrannical, extremely high maintenance. Stunted. Thereâs no business like show business! But the worst of these people is still gloriously defective. The worst is a P.T. Barnum. Or even a Harry Cohn. Heâs a hustler, sometimes monstrous. But so colorful, and his red is a screaming fire engine red â it looks great on him. Oh, and you have to have a sense of humor about the characters, because without the laughs, itâs mostly tears. Seriously. Lots of people who did not get held by their mothers. As my co-founder Joe says, âOy.â
Stupid people? I donât know very many, truthfully. I know too many terrified people, though, thinking short term (out of panic). Chasing tactics, not developing strategies. And caged animals do lash out. They called us names. Sometimes it was funny. We were always the dumbest guys in the room. Until we werenât.
Itâs the extraordinary people. So, when choosing your team: I like to think that I arrived independently at a recruiting strategy usually attributed to Guy Kawasaki (and, by implication, Steve Jobs).
Solid A players hire A+ players; B players hire C players, Cs hire DsâŠ
In other words, find people who are better than you are. This is easy for me. Iâm a non-technical founder of very technical businesses. Thereâs a big target on my back, as there should be.
Everyone says, âI have a great team.â Iâll say this: I consider it a rare and wonderful thing, to get to go to work with the people I respect and admire most. Adam and Joe: I am excited to continue to earn the opportunity to show up and learn from you every day. You are my brothers and if I were ever made to lie in a trench with bullets whizzing by overhead, I would hope the guys to my left and right were made like you.
An amazing core team got us to this fine place: Tom, Zack, Adam A., JD, Ken, Fred, Seth, Travis, Aaron, Taric, Rich, Jack, John, Shalewa, Brandon, Thomas, Joy, Paul and Farzad.[5] They are joined now by new dream teammates: Ethan, Jenny, Jake, Jennifer, Jacob, Kyle, Bennett, AndyâŠand counting.
Oh, and another people thing: you should try to marry well. Iâve walked away from perfectly good careers in favor of uncertain plans and all Amanda ever said was, âBabe, you have to do it.â Whatever âitâ was. I highly recommend falling in love with your favorite person. And I know my kids get a lot out of watching me puzzling through life, admiring their motherâs many beautiful qualities and trying to emulate them every day. Aw.
Iâm leaving out dozens of other great people who should be acknowledged here. (Look how long it is already!) But Iâve kept very good notes for the book and, no, I wonât change your name or leave you out (sorry).[6]
3. Itâs the stories you tell.
My friend James Glassman was right. Starting in high school, he reminded me constantly. Really, he made a sort of a catch phrase out of it. Heâd marvel at some past exploit, shaking his head with just half a smile. Itâs the stories you tell. Or heâd offer it more forcefully, encouraging us, at the prospect of a new exploit:
Itâs the stories you tell!
A life well told is as close an approximation of a life well lived as Iâve found. Do you savor the memories of chances you almost took but didnât, adventures you packed your bags for but then never left the driveway?
Most of the things that have happened in my life in music I canât even type about here.[7] Viewed at a distance, it all feels to me like one big blur of Cameron Crowe moments. A love letter to music and tech.
The earliest flicker is R.E.M.âs âDocumentâ tour. Texas. We were fanatics and right down front. But we were also young adolescents and making a lot of noise. Pete Buck actually leaned out over his monitor to plead with us from the edge of the stage: âGuys, be cool⊠or Michaelâs gonna get real pissed!â
Then Squeeze invited my high school band to Tipitinaâs on a school night and I talked my mom into letting me drive the family wagon from Texas to New Orleans for the gig.
At a festival, we played side stage at a huge amphitheater, We were in the first support slot. Duran Duran was headlining on the main stage and it was my best friendâs sisterâs wedding that night and then Simon Le Bon crashed the reception andâŠ
My favorite comedian ever, for all time, George Carlin asked me and a friend to his green room. And we went. It was one of my first nights out with the girl who would become my wife.
The BigChampagne story all started with Napster and Glen Phillips and the estate of Peter Tosh. Phone calls from Jamaica. Aimee Mann and Michael Hausman. Glenn Tilbrook. Tim OâBrien and Stroke 9. Ken and Fred and Seth. But then it made the leap almost immediately to Robin at Capitol. McCartney! Guerinot, No Doubt and Offspring. Jimmy and Berman and Courtney and Axl and Bono and Rodney Jerkins. Eminem. Guy and Madonna. We worked all hours in my little apartment in the Fairfax. Then we rented those old screenwriting offices on Little Santa Monica Blvd.
Things sped up even more. It all happened too fast.[8]
âUh, MC Hammer is in the conference room. He didnât make an appointment or anything, he just showed up.â
âTo see you.â Uncomfortable pause. âHe asked me for a Diet Coke.â
A colorful ribbon of planes, trains and hotel rooms tied it all together. New York and LA. London and Berlin and Beijing and Copenhagen and Kristiansand and Vancouver Island and Cannes and Vienna and Edinburgh and Brighton and Toronto and and and Austin, always Austin.
SXSW. My three-year-old daughter fell hard for the songs of Willie Nelson and announced she would marry him. Willie wrote Lucy a sweet love note back.
I met folk hero Billy Bragg at a bar on Sixth Street. Five minutes later I met his manager Pete Jenner and he remains my dear friend today. Pinch me. Will Page and Juana were married in Valencia and I wore my kilt as I was instructed. We toasted to his beautiful bride, and mine, and to the night weâd stood in Victoria Park, London, at the side of the stage as Radiohead washed over us, around us, through us.[9]
God, it really does start and end with the bands, those magnificently talented bastards! REM in Georgetown, the car ride with Bertis and hearing the record the world wouldnât hear until the following year. Will Owsleyâs memorial, Nashville. Nickel Creek at Largo. Jane's at El Cid. A few hundred other stages.
Thatâs just a few seconds of it. Life. Itâs the stories you tell.
4. Be good. Be persistent. But, mostly, be fortunate.
When something very good happens to you in your life or business, everyone wants to tell you all about how you made it happen and how you deserve it. This is a nice thing. Your real friends value you and celebrate your success.
But you know the truth is that you donât deserve any of it.[10] You have worked hard, youâve been smart, you have been determined and good. But you definitely havenât earned any of it any more than your equally smart (or smarter!), dedicated and good friends deserved that mouthful of knuckle sandwich. The string of failed companies. The divorce. The (donât say it) failing health.
An important figure in my life (call him Mr. Hoodler), a family friend in the Bay Area who is like a favorite uncle, sat with me at a congratulatory dinner. He was quiet, listening to all the easy praise around the table. You deserve it. Good guys do win. You worked so hard. You stayed the course.
âAnd,â Mr. Hoodler said, finally, âitâs good to be lucky. Isnât it?â
The first person to give voice to exactly what Iâve been feeling all along. Who deserves what we have? No. One. But that wonât stop me from receiving it humbly and gladly. Thank you, sir. May I have another?
Call it luck or fortune, call it God or call it something else. But donât overlook the essential role of the happy accidents. We spend so much energy trying to control every aspect of our businesses. We micromanage, we obsess. And yet, we control so little. Talent and determination (and ten thousand hours) are necessary but not sufficient to success. The pixies still have to sprinkle their dust here and there.
And, actually, I agree with Seth Godin about ten thousand hours: the talent and determination are very often necessary to success â but not always.
Mr. Hoodler got it right, and so did those other Bay Area poets, when they sang:
Sometimes the lightâs all shining on me
Other times I can barely see
What a looooooong, strange trip itâs been
Whoo boy, those are three scary words.
I think maybe thatâs because fear, or what my partner Joe Fleischer calls âmanaging the downside,â is practically required, sometimes. But not that often.
I know this: Iâm at my very best when I am completely unafraid. I bet thatâs true of you, too. Serious studies show that positivity leads to increased creativity, better insights and greater success.
Conversely, fear cripples. Itâs, um, neuroscience. If you read enough about the effects of fear (and unhappiness, generally) on mind and body, you could be forgiven for thinking that you canât succeed without happiness.
But thatâs not true either. There are plenty of objectively âsuccessfulâ people who were extremely unhappy all day, every single day that they were creating their success. You can be successful and unhappy. But why would you want to?
The stuff I started to say earlier about stupid people â none of those people was really stupid. But they were all terrified and it can be hard to tell the difference. So, you want to be the smartest guy in the room? Start by thinking fearlessly.
âI never lie because I donât fear anyone. The only time you lie is when you are afraid.â
And speaking of John Gotti, I met with Michael Eisner (kiiiiiiiding) when heâd left Disney and was starting Vuguru.
He asked me:Â How many companies have you started?
Just this one, so far, I said.
He snorted. What are you afraid of?
It was not the question I was expecting. And it was rhetorical. Do more. Fail more, he said.
Faster, he shot back. Really, what are you afraid of?
Of anything on this sprawling list of (ha) just five things I think Iâve learned, this may be the hardest one. But I do try to think fearlessly and to tell the truth.
And I do think thatâs why I wrote this down.
That and because maybe you read this far.[11]
· If you were not born to do something more sensible,
· If you believe in the power of extraordinary teams of people and the stories they live and tell,
· If you are an A+ player â talented and determined and unafraid, even in the face of real adversity, and especially
· If you are a mobile/web engineer or designerâŠ[12]
If your life is a love letter to music and tech, Iâm hoping you might join us. Be successful and be happy.
Look out world. [13] Hammertime. Letâs go.
[1] Donât believe me. Hunter Walk says so.
[2] And when I say some of these professionals werenât âbornâ to do this or that, Iâm not trying to start a nurture/nature debate here. As a parent of monozygotic twins, I have plenty of empirical and anecdotal evidence that we are all products of a still-mysterious blend of both genetic predispositions and life experiences.
[3] Seth Godin predicts that there are no more âblue pillâ careers coming, for anyone. So maybe weâre just ahead of the game.
[4] There are some. Iâll name names in the book.
[5] Alums: Tom W. and Luca.
[6] Relax. Itâs not a slam book. I love you. Mostly.
[7] These stories are pretty safe. If you want to hear some better ones, youâll have to buy drinks.
[8] For you fine print readers, hereâs a little more of what I remember:
Shawn and his lawyer Milt calling to say that they couldnât publicly support our work but that on the shhh they loved it and that we should keep going. Napster was promptly shut down.
Digital Brandcasting and Will and Jada and Peter Arnell. Alanis. Michael Jackson and HollywoodTicket.com and Rundell and Coursey and MJâs $20M. Lars. Jay Boberg and Ed K and Gary Kurfirst (may he rest in peace).
Time on Sand Hill Road. Time with Marc and Ben and Ron Conway andâŠ
Rewriting the rules. Testing leaked MP3s for No Doubt and Weezer. Hearing the first Alicia Keys record and seeing the âFallinââ video in the J Records offices. Hearing that other young girl who made the tapes with her dad and opened for Hanson: Michelle Branch. Gregg Alexander. Carlos Santana.
Some new band from England had a song called âYellowâ and ABC was using it to promote their fall TV shows â could we track the impact online?
Everybody started suing everybody. I testified in the CA senate. Levar Burton spoke after I did and he welled up when he begged the senators to protect his work from âmash-ups.â Did I make the Reading Rainbow cry? David Draiman said he hated that the RIAA was suing kids and biting the hand that feeds them. He got most excited talking about his previous life in business: health care administration. Jeff Tweedy defended MP3 swapping on Nightline. I stuck to the numbers.
Niklas and Janus from Kazaa (later Skype, then Joost), sneaking around. They were fugitives from justice then, creeping into the country on private planes and taking secret meetings in LA. More meetings! Travis from Scour Exchange (later Red Swoosh, now Uber). Michael from AudioGalaxy. Ian Clarke invented Freenet. When he came to my office, his big toe was sticking out through a hole in his shoe. Morpheus. Bearshare. Limewire. Soulseek. Sued. Sued. Suedsuedsuedsuedsuedsued.
Ah, the piracy wars. Hilary then Cary then Mitch. I debated the legendary Jack Valenti (RIP) at the Cato Institute in DC. I lost. Bob LEFSETZ IN ALL CAPS!!!!! Everyone was so excited, for better or worse, but the songs just kept pouring out in a bittorrent. By the billions. Zuckerberg and Sean Parker went to Tom Whalleyâs house to show him Wirehog. It looked a little like Napster, file sharing but âintegrated with thefacebook.â The meeting with the record label president did not go that well.
The days were coming so fast, running into each other. I told Amanda I felt like I needed a flip top head to pour in all the learnings.
We just kept sprinting. When the bumper fell off of Silent Bobâs Dodge Neon, we tied it back on with bungee cord, called it âbootstrapped,â and kept on driving.
WIRED called. A cover story? The writer left Brooklyn and camped out in our first work/live loft in the ATL for days. He just kept staring at the tables of kids in headphones, coding. The magazine waited patiently for something to happen. Nothing did. Das blinkinâ lights in the server rack just kept blinkinâ.
Lifeâs funny. You can see the dots connect in hindsight: that writer on assignment for WIRED is now Jeff, my dear friend. And together with Alysia and the kids, he is part of my life (and not my work) story.
Michael Ovitz wanted to have lunch. If we bought EMI, what would you do with it? Chris DeWolfe wanted to have lunch. If you were running music at MySpace, what would you do with it?
Roger Ames stood in the office, yelling at me, in his socks. I thought of Ian Clarke.
Alex Zubillaga paced Tom Whalleyâs office like a tiger, roaring at me. Youâre underestimating ringback tones! So American! So much shouting.
I turned 30 at the Beverly Wilshire hotel with Evan and Gregg. Theyâd just started something called Jib Jab. The dinner that night was in honor of Ken and Fred. I was very star struck by all the celebs. Then Robin asked two dates to the Grammys: Sean Parker and me. Parker couldnât get into Pete Wentzâs after-party and I knew the manager, so he thought I was somebody for a minute.
At another party, I was introduced to Paris Hilton. When she laughed at my unfunny jokes and put my number in her phone, a writer for the Times of London wrote it up like a gossip column and called me the internetâs âIt Boy.â In print.
Of course the heiress was actually asking for my wifeâs number. Amanda had been a teacher at the Buckley School where Paris and Nicole met. It was all fine in the end. The Brit from the Times married my friend Lucie and now heâs just, well, Chris. And Paris is a place in FranceâŠ
KLSX in Los Angeles used to let the old guys hold forth on the radio on Sunday nights. I co-hosted and took calls with with Lefsetz and Nose and Andy Gould and Rob Zombie and and andâŠwe laughed at our own unfunny jokes.
Quincy Jones showed up at dinner with TED founder Richard Saul Wurman. Just like Robin, he brought two dates: Naomi Campbell and Salma Hayek. I sat at their table. And Iâll only say this: itâs good to be Q.
You remember a lot, of course. We all do. The stories you tell. But sometimes you are even more present, your senses heightened, every sight and sound written indelibly to memory. Thank God. I headed up to San Jose for a VC dinner. After the cocktail hour, Steve Jobs stood up to tell us how important we were, the young hopefuls, and to paint us a picture of what we could do together. My table assignment put me with Shawn Fanning and Tim Westergren. I can still see Steve squinting into the low sun. âI want to tell you something,â he began. Food was on the table, but every fork was down.
[9] Our passes to that show were the bandâs thank you gift to us. Weâd just completed a career-making (for us, not Radiohead) piece of research for them.
[10] Ticketmasterâs CEO Nathan Hubbard keeps a stuffed donkey on his desk. He says itâs to remind him that he is just another jackass. I donât need a plush toy. I can always just call my brother.
[11] If you did read this far, and you are the first person to email [email protected], we'll hook you up with some great FREE tickets to a great show. In fact, I'm so sure you didn't read this far that anyone who reads this and emails us tweets @bigchampagne will get a very fashionable FREE BigChampagne t-shirt (while supplies last).Â
[12] Ok, Ethan made me put that part in.
[13] (But not in a bad way. We only want to surprise and entertain you.)