When I was in undergrad, I took an elective called “Advanced Recording Studio Techniques”. Yep, there was a course at an accredited university that went in-depth on how to best engineer sound in the recording studio. Even more surprising, at one time there was a place specifically designed for musicians to record an album. All kidding aside, it was pretty awesome. We covered advanced microphone techniques, mastering, and how to use just about everything inside of a recording studio. As you might imagine, the self-selecting group of students that go to school for music and find themselves in the Advanced Recording Studio Techniques class aren’t just kind of nerdy, they’re really nerdy (myself included). They love stories about production techniques like how Jimmy Page left in an earlier vocal take on the ending of “Whole Lotta Love”. Herein lies the problem. When you get to this level of geekiness, you limit your audience to only a handful of others that can relate to you. Enter Ronnie Dean.
The Yoda of Record Producers
Ronnie Dean was an old Nashville producer. He had worked as an engineer at Columbia records and production on “The Johnny Cash Show”. He had an amazing ear and intuition for crafting perfection. This wasn’t just apparent in the music he produced, but also in the way he read the room and related to his students. He knew how nerdy we were and he also knew how much we respected him. Every class he would reiterate the best career advice I have ever received:
“If you are only interested in one thing, you won’t be any fun at parties.”
It’s All Geek to Me
He explained that early on in his career, he would go to parties and talk about work. He’d talk about the 32 takes that it took in the studio for a guitar solo, or how to mic a drum kit, or even what it was like to run sound for Johnny Cash. He quickly realized that no one really cared. He had become so focused on his own microcosm of the world that he forgot to observe everything else around him. He forgot how to relate to people. Luckily, he was able to learn from his experience and make sure that his students never made the same mistakes that he had made. He pushed his students to think beyond his classroom and not take it so seriously. He wanted us to do things like explore the arts, climb a mountain, go for a walk, read a book, and talk to kids in other majors.
Being the socially awkward musician that I was (and still kind of am), I was terrified at the thought of getting out of my comfort zone. I was an expert in the field, a big fish. I knew just about any recording trick in the book. I knew when to use a ribbon mic over a condenser mic, I knew…wait a minute, there I go again… Anyway, as a punk 19-year-old, I was lucky enough to receive this advice and it completely shaped the way that I think. It changed the way I interact with people, the way I learn, the things I read, and it certainly changed my career trajectory.
How I’ve Applied it to My Career
His sage advice has helped me carve an unconventional path. I started out in the music industry, joined an ad agency, started my own ad agency, worked in consumer goods and private label brands, and for nearly a decade have worked in the highly-regulated world of aviation. In a world full of specialists, I’m a generalist…a Swiss Army Knife. In my career, I know enough about a lot of subjects to be dangerous. I can talk to a customer intelligently at a trade show, but also know when that customer needs to talk to a specialist. I can craft messaging strategies about highly technical topics, but I always need a little help from my technical friends to make sure I get it right. It turns out that many of the skills and interests I developed along the way have transferred, regardless of the industry.
The only reason that I know what I do about marketing is that I’ve put in the time and effort based on a genuine interest in the subject. Before my formal MBA training, my branding education came from reading and following the greats like Seth Godin and Marty Neumeier. My graphic design background and social media promotion experience came out of necessity, as early in my career the companies I worked for had very limited budgets. My experience writing and crafting messages has come from decades of reading and ghostwriting for others. To be good at any one of these skills takes time. It takes energy. It takes hundreds, if not thousands of hours of practice. More importantly, it takes genuine interest and curiosity. Although I’m probably not the best at any one of these particular specialties, I still live by the same principle; I’d rather be fun at parties.
How I’ve Applied it to My Life
Although Ronnie Dean’s advice has been important for my career, it’s been even more important for my personal life. He was right. I gave up the specialist mentality nearly 20 years ago. Although I still play music, it’s only a part of my life. I’ve developed an appreciation for many different interests, like hockey, running (5 marathons, 3 ultras), cooking, art museums, reading, listening to songs with my daughter, and the list changes daily. By having the curiosity to continually learn and take on different interests, I’ve been able to better connect with others and have fun along the way.
What do you think? What are you into? What timeless advice have you received that has changed your life?
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