Two and a half months ago, I ate a piece of cornmeal-crusted, pan-fried catfish.
Four months ago today, Lou Reed died.
These incidents–one joyous, one sad–are related. Not only to each other, but to copywriting, sales, and marketing. I promise.
Let’s start at the beginning: Lou Reed’s death.
The Velvet Underground frontman who also gave the world a delightfully obscure solo career passed away as unexpectedly as someone who is 71 and famous can. It wasn’t completely shocking, but it was still surprising enough to make me pause for a few minutes to think about life.
Renowned producer Brian Eno said that Lou Reed once told him the first Velvet Underground album only sold 30,000 copies in the first five years.
“That record was such an important record for so many people,” Eno said. “I think everyone who bought one of those 30,000 copies started a band!”
I wasn’t one of the first 30,000, but I did start my first band as a 17-year-old high school kid not long after hearing The Velvet Underground and Nico.
So I was a little down that evening as I scanned through the reactions in my Twitter timeline.But it was the email I received at 5:40 PM that made me question everything I’m doing professionally with copywriting, sales, and marketing.
Does that ever happen to you? Things are going great, you’re feeling positive about your direction professionally, and then one day you start thinking, Is everything I’m working toward a pointless waste of time?
Bob Lefsetz sent the email. The subject simply read, “Lou Reed.” Halfway through, there were three paragraphs about lyrics from The Velvet Underground’s better-known song “Rock and Roll” that gut-punched me (lyrics are in bold):
“She started shakin’ to that fine fine music
You know her life was saved by rock ‘n’ roll”Imagine that. Not an iPhone. Not an iPad. The greatest exponent of technology was the transistor radio, almost no one had a color television set, never mind a flat screen. But that rock and roll music coming out of the tiny speaker or earphone…was enough.
And Lou Reed was not much different from the rest of us. With the suburban upbringing, the tenure at Syracuse, and then…his life was changed by rock and roll. He followed his muse to the city, hooked up with Andy Warhol and Nico, but really he was just another kid infected by the sound who needed to play…
“Two TV sets and two Cadillac cars
Well you know it ain’t gonna help me at all”And there you have it. We realized the American Dream of constant consumption was b.s. It was about what was in your mind, what you felt inside.
Lou Reed’s high school yearbook photo. “Tall, dark-haired Lou likes basketball, music, and naturally, girls.”
Three things in that excerpt hit me:
- I had a similar upbringing to Lou Reed. I too moved to a city away from home because of music.
- Lou was part of the portion of his generation that wanted more than its parents’ generation, much like what you see today with Millennials vs. Boomers.
- That last line: “It was about what was in your mind, what you felt inside.” What the hell…I know I used to think that. Do I still? And does what I’m doing back that up?
Here’s the thing–copywriting, marketing, sales…they all have a negative connotation. Why? Because the main point of all three is to get people to give you something (usually $$$).
Plain and simple, that’s the point every time they’re done right. But plain and simple is not enough in this case.
A more thorough definition becomes necessary when you’re sitting there looking at yourself the way society looks at ambulance-chasing, Saul Goodman-esque lawyers.
What is copywriting, and why are we doing it? Are we just chasing “two TV sets and two Cadillac cars”?
A Piece of Catfish Changes Everything
A month and a half later, my wife, Samantha, and I are sitting at the pizza bar in City House, a restaurant in Nashville’s Germantown neighborhood.
It’s a fascinating place to have a seat, as the bar is situated right in front of the kitchen and wood-burning pizza oven. Cooks are running around, juggling pans, plating food. The head chef, James Beard Award (Best Chef: Southeast) nominee Tandy Wilson, works the pizza oven and finishes off the ready-to-go pies with dashes of chili oil. He’s wearing a Waffle House t-shirt, tastefully accentuated with his Fu Manchu.
Chef Tandy Wilson fishing a pizza out of the oven. Had to get a picture while he was looking away so I didn’t look like the lame-o dude taking a picture at a restaurant.
We order drinks and food. I get the belly ham pizza and craft a gameplan to steal as many bites from the catfish Samantha orders as possible.
It works. I steal many bites. She is generous.
As we enjoy our meals, I see the chef surveying the plates going out to the diners with a smile on his face.
“I’m sellin’ this catfish!” he proclaims, to no one in particular but himself.
At that moment, a month and a half after my initial soul-searching freak-out, it hits me. That is what sales is all about.
It’s about the chef who goes out of his way to source good, fresh catfish from North Carolina with no way of knowing whether he can sell it all or not. Not because it’s easier than the alternatives (it’s not), but because it’s a clean product that supports regional business. Oh yeah, and it tastes a hell of a lot better than the frozen, antibiotic-laden garbage most places serve.
It’s about providing value to people while sustaining and growing yourself and others.
It’s about a lot more than two TV sets and two Cadillac cars.
Copywriting, sales, and marketing, as I see them, are the bridge between things and the people who need them. They’re about combining words, images, and messaging in a way that connects specific kinds of people with something that can add value to their lives.
They tap into emotions, but never play with them.
They empathize.
They’re honest. And when they’re not, they fail in the long run.
And as an independent copywriter, I can choose whom I write copy for and whom I don’t. If I can’t look at something and think of a person whom (three “whoms” in two sentences, geez, I know) I could honestly tell, “You need this,” then it’s not a worthwhile thing.
Some, of course, will say you’re crazy for passing up work or turning down clients. But that’s what this is about. Let’s stop being radio-friendly. Let’s be like Lou Reed.
Do you know a person or company doing things that matter? Could they use some copywriting help? Website optimization? Content marketing plan? I’m looking to take on a small number of worthy projects free of charge this year. I’d love to hear about anyone you think might be a good fit. Let’s do work that matters.
Thank you, Lou. Instead of resting in peace, may you make loud noise for all eternity.
