I’m alright with a slow burn
Sustaining beyond a launch in fast-paced times.
A simple song stanza or rhythmic refrain is usually what gets me thinking. These past weeks, it’s been Spice Girls’ Wannabe (you might know it…) taking me back to my Buffalo-Boot-shoe days (I was quite the mega-fan). The song has been back in the public psyche owing to the 25 game-changing years since its release.
This milestone coincides with a couple of key launches on the cards for a number of my Enid.fm brand partners, through my consultancy work that sees me support founders looking to grow into bonafide businesses with hit records under their belt.
Released in July 1996, I remember the Spice Girls’ debut hit more-than-well, cackling it’s way out of an AIWA portable CD player in a best friend’s bedroom. Freshly landed from a family holiday abroad, I was completely unaware of this new track that my fellow chart-music cognoscenti from the playground were obsessed with.
You could say I was a late adopter; the song had been making waves on the radio for several weeks ahead of its release, as the soundtrack of the summer (now, alas, it’s all Birkenstocks dragging along the floor and Calvin-Harris-esque beat drops).
So, coming to it late and realising the listening public were into it, I rushed to Woolworths come Monday release day (8th July 1996) to buy my CD-single (I was always in it for the B-sides!), assuming it would be a runaway success.
Yet when the time came for the Sunday charts, Wannabe hadn’t shifted enough copies to knock ex-Take Thatter Gary Barlow’s Forever Love (anyone?!) and Fugees’ Killing Me Softly (fair enough!) from the number one and two spots, respectively.
It seems many fans of the unapologetically bizarre pop phenomenon of a track just weren’t ready for it. Instead, Wannabe debuted on the UK Singles Chart at number three, on the Sunday after its physical release (though 73,000 copies is not to be snubbed). Let’s remember, this was a time when hotly-tipped singles could sell tens of thousands of copies on the day of release. It’s certainly a level of commitment beyond a Spotify stream.
Yet, this small hiccup at the start meant the band couldn’t nab record-breaking accolades and epithets, since it wasn’t an immediate, consecutive run of success. It took a fazed fanbase, repeated radio rotation and a prolonged press push by the band themselves, to help the track climb to number one the following week, after which, the track made history, spending seven consecutive weeks at the top of the charts. Now that’s what I call a hit record. Mel B did say it herself in the song: “Now don’t be hasty/I’ll give you a try.” A little test and refine doesn’t hurt and Scary Spice knew it.
In all the recent headlines celebrating the song’s 25th anniversary, no reporter has really delved into the importance of this little-known fact. Being a music-obsessive and fun-fact-geek, one could be forgiven for saying it’s small-fry since the band went on to achieve fame in every corner of the world, even across the pond which few UK acts pull off.
Yet I felt that the fact that Wannabe is a fine example of a slow burn should be celebrated. Not everything immediately tops the charts, even if you’re destined for great things down the line.
We’ve gotten into a strange pattern of celebrating a launch, when the reality is that the sustain phase means so much more — and is often the even harder part. We’ve become acclimatised to the hyped ‘ drop format’ that now it’s all about selling out and moving lots, fast. We crave the dopamine hit of the first rush.
And so I’m here to say, I’m alright with a slow burn. It’s how I approach my work with Enid. Generally I support budget-bound startups who seek results — aka sales — fast. Yet, we spend much of our time working on the slow burn kind of growth that can be realistically sustained — by the business owners and their partner teams who bring their products and services to life.
With the prospect of a number of key brand launches on the work agenda, including a Kickstarter campaign to support a tech build, plus the launch of an NPD innovation in an emerging category, it might sound like a cop-out talking about slow-burns. Of course, everyone wants an unveil complete with coverage in all the right titles, the Twitterati posting 140-plus characters about us, and TikTok viral challenges emanating from our existence.
In particular, successful Kickstarter campaigns are known for being reliant on first-day fame, to sustain momentum and hit target. A crowdfunding-expert former colleague once referred to it as the “empty restaurant syndrome” — if your campaign looks like a ghost town, fewer will pledge; stick a few people in the windows and the rest will follow and typically lead to a successful raise, dessert and all. I’ll keep you posted on the Kickstarter campaign success — the groundwork done to set the pledge up for success has been impressive (expect a note from me to pledge once live).
For many of the most admirable brands I see operating today, a slow burn is favoured. If you’re making something with responsibility at the centre of your processes, then more often that not, you’re happy with taking it at a slower pace. It’s how your brand was no doubt birthed, and it’s how it will be sustained. It is in fact the ethos for my soon-to-launch lifestyle brand for cats and their owners, Particular, and it’s the approach many of the brands I respect and support myself take, cc: Paynter, Hades, Victoria Strigini, Jessica de Lotz.
It’s why I’ve decided a few things:
- Only work with partners who operate with responsibility at the core of what they’re trying to achieve. Too much of the same thing? We don’t need it. Only room for the game-changers now. It’s my mantra now.
- Use my Enid Instagram account as a report — not on launches or to simply get a case study out the door — instead, impact-focused notes on how we pushed the dial and reached the top of the charts, making a difference in our own way.
- Not pat myself on the back too much for cutting the ribbon; yes crossing the line takes months of training and sacrifice, but the real work comes after the ribbon’s hit the ground and the business is exposed, working in the bright light of day, in public.
- The outro is just as crucial as the intro; see launch as the middle section. I operate in a way that makes those closing bars intentional, setting a tone for what’s to come and managing expectations for consumers. (Here is also an opportunity for me to share some favourite closing lines of albums, cc: Frank Ocean Blonde, Radiohead In Rainbows, Suede Suede). A brand’s behaviour after the launch spotlight leaves stage left is the important following act — continuing as you mean to go on. Yes the brand identity looks good, the team is hired, but how are all the parts being rolled out to meet the strategic objectives?
That’s why I see the sustain phase as the most important. Now it’s time to get everyone else onboard with it. If you’ve got something valuable that stands the test of time, things can wait. Your consumers will come.
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Listen here to a pick of my favourite closing tracks of albums, songs with a foreboding denouement (save for one, which doesn’t end an album but simply has the best twist of an ending, damn!). Bonus points if you know the hidden tracks within this playlist…
