Someone once said, “The devil makes work for idle hands.” They were right.
Last weekend I caught up with a mate of mine. Like me, he’s a ‘creative’. We shared a similar journey when we first started: both of us were starved of clients in our early days. Or in his case, musicians who need beats. But this is where our paths diverge.
My friend believes selling is the devil’s work. He also believes his art—his beats—should be enough to get him in front of paying musicians. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
While my client list grew at a steady pace, my friend’s list of ‘artists I’ve worked with’ was as empty as the old-fashioned tumbler he was now holding. I, on the other hand, was still sipping my Negroni—which was delicious, by the way—while listening and contemplating my friend’s misery.
"Can we please order..."
I ordered another round of Negronis and whipped out my phone. I suddenly had an urge to get my hands dirty doing ‘the devil’s work’. This is when things got interesting.
Me: “OK, let’s find a music marketing agency.”
My friend: “I’ve had a look at those before and —”
Me: “Hold up. There are a few of them around … Melbourne, Sydney, LA, Atlanta … this one in Amsterdam looks very slick.”
My friend: “I’ve seen that one before! But the thing is, every time I contact them, they all say the same thing.”
Me: “You mean the same pitch?”
My friend: “Yesss. They all have nice websites that promise to get me fans! I’ve heard it all before. But I’m yet to hear how these guys actually get results.”
Sensing I had more questions, he grabbed my phone and began clicking on website links.
My friend: “Here, here and here.”
He was right. These music marketing agencies all had the same taste, just different flavours.
A few clicks later, my friend summed up his dismay.
“This is pointless. Everyone says the same f—ing thing. How am I supposed to know who’s best?”
Me: “Leave it with me, man. I’ll see if I can reach out to someone who knows what they’re doing.”
We downed our drinks, paid the bill and parted ways.
Zig when everybody else zags.
I don’t profess to know the ins and outs of music marketing. But I do know a thing or two about hooking an idea with words. So the next day I revisited those same websites, picked the best one out of the worst and rewrote it to appeal to people like my friend. The result?
Whether it was St. Jerome or Morrisey, they were right about the devil finding work for idle hands.
I structured the copy to answer the right questions at the right time. So it’s gone from having the staccato of a six-year-old playing the violin for the first time … to a continuous melody. The copy flows and leads readers from attention to action as they scroll further down the page. And that’s what a great webpage should do – grab eyeballs and compel the reader to act.
People want sound, not noise.
This is simple, yet critical. The websites my friend showed me all sounded the same. Features over benefits. All about me, nothing about you. To get a sales message that resonates means thinking from the perspective of a frustrated musician trying to make it big. I.e., I want to focus on the music, not the marketing, or Is there a new method or approach that’s proven to get my music into listening ears?
This creative thinking laid the foundation for the page and set the tone for the copy. Nevertheless, even with all this writing and researching, I still haven’t found a music marketing agency for my friend. Perhaps the answer will come to us over another round of Negronis.