This is a story about storytelling and its importance in cementing consumer loyalty, online and off.
The Grammy’s honored the Grateful Dead this year for their 60 years of music and philanthropic contributions.
I’ll never forget my introduction to the band as a 13-year-old high school freshman who had just moved to a new school in a new town.
Doing my best to seek out the cool kids, one day after school I found myself smoking cigarettes behind a French restaurant off the main drag with one of the coolest. A sophomore who was not only a star athlete, but the best guitar player around.
He asked me if I had heard of Eric Clapton, Jimmy Hendrix, or Jerry Garcia. Nope. I knew the hits on AM radio and little more at that time.
So, I jumped at the invitation to adjourn to my new friend’s house to listen to some new music and be enlightened.
The highlight was the song “Viola Lee Blues,” a long cut on the very first Grateful Dead album that displayed, in miniature, the band’s facility to start a song, drift into an extended jam, build in intensity, then make its way to a knock-out crescendo before easing seamlessly back into the song’s verses and original tempo.
I was a full-fledged Deadhead by my senior year. I had seen the band several times and owned all their albums. But as much as I loved the jams and the band’s never-ending vitality and spontaneity, it was the stories they told in their songs that really grabbed me.
All these years later, I figured out why.
I was a sheltered, suburban kid. The Dead may have been famous, but weren’t that much older than me and seemed so down to earth and accessible. The Beatles were rock stars, the Dead were our friends.
They sent us to a world that was a far cry from our safe, structured lives dominated by parents and school, telling tales about gamblers, hobos, cowboys, travelers and outlaws.
Their stories allowed me to imagine a different version of myself. A strong, confident, independent character living out great adventures while breaking hearts wherever I roamed.
For me, the Grateful Dead laddered up to freedom. From parents, school, teachers and other authority figures. What could be better for a teenage boy?
The band knew always knew who they were. They supported their brand with songs (product) and marketing (non-stop touring, answering fan mail, merch, pro-social efforts). Perhaps, most important, they encouraged fans to record their concerts and share the tapes. The record companies in those days were dead set against pirating, but the Dead somehow convinced their label to allow it.
Seeing the Dead was an experience that could not be captured on a studio recording. That feeling was best shared by the band’s live performances, warts (there were many) and all. Sharing tapes gave an ever growing fan-base of Deadheads a taste of the Dead experience and exposure to their rootsy, Americana stories. All while making them feel like part of the story.
What story does your brand tell?
