Side A, track 2 was Frankly, Mr. Shankly, a song they wrote to express their frustration with their record label, Rough Trade. Written in the vein of a letter of resignation, it signaled the end for their relationship.
I'm no Morrissey, but this week I've also found myself looking for the words to express similar frustration. So much so, that I will have written a similar letter by the end of the week.
What I have learned from the experience is nothing new. Simply that indifference kills creativity.
I remember first learning that lesson back in 1994. While reading my weekly copy of NME, a British music paper, I read an interview with Brett Anderson, the lead singer of Suede and also, as it happens, another Morrissey-wannabee. He discussed how indifference was the worst type of reaction that people could have to his music, only then to find the following week that he was quoted describing the new release by their arch rivals, Blur, as "Ok".
So, after weeks of creative soul-searching, punctuated by one presentation after another, I'm afraid to say that we were also met by the blunt force of brutal indifference.
But then again, indifference isn't the only way to kill an idea.
Here's a few more, courtesy of Scott Campbell, an art director based in San Fransisco (via 99% via Fast Company via FLIRTing with the Crowds).
Actually, those eight were just to get you started. Here's another seventeen (courtesy of Roger Neill, from his time at Synectics).
1. See it coming and quickly change the subject.
2. Ignore it. Dead silence intimidates all but the most enthusiastic.
3. Feign interest but do nothing about it. This at least prevents the originator from taking it elsewhere.
4. Scorn it. "You're joking, of course." Make sure to get your comment in before the idea is fully explained.
5. Laugh it off. "Ho, ho ho, that's a good one Joe. You must have been awake all night thinking that up.
6. Praise it to death. By the time you have expounded its merits for five minutes, everyone will hate it.
7. Mention that it has never been tried before. If the idea is genuinely original, this is certain to be true. Alternatively, say, "If the idea's so wonderful, why hasn't someone else already tried it?"
8. Say, "Oh, we've tried that before" – even if it is not true. Particularly effective with newcomers, it makes them realise what complete outsiders they are.
9. Come up with a competitive idea. This can be dangerous tactic, however, as you might still be left with an idea to follow up.
10. Stall it with any of the following: "We're not ready for it yet, but in the fullness of time"; "I've been waiting to do that for a long time, but not right now"; or, "Let's wait until the new organisation has settled down".
11. Modify it out of existence. This is elegant. You seem to be helping the idea along, just changing it a bit here and there. By the time the originator realises what's happening, the idea is dead.
12. Try to chip bits off it. If you fiddle with an idea long enough, it may fall to pieces.
13. Make a strong personal attack on the originator. By the time he or she has recovered, the idea won't seem so important.
14. Appoint a committee to sit on the idea. As Sir Barnett Cox observed: "A committee is a cul-de-sac down which ideas are lured, then quietly strangled."
15. Drown it in cold water. As in: "We haven't got the staff to do it...the intangible risks would be too great...that's all very well in theory, but in real life..."
16. Return it to sender with: "You need to be much more specific about your proposal."
17. If all fails, encourage the originator to look for a better idea. Usually a discouraging quest. If he or she actually returns with one, start them looking for a better job.
I'm sure, by now, you get the point.
And who else but David Thorne – whom I first mentioned only last week – to provide a raucous insight into his own experiences of the creative process?
I should point out that my own issues pale into insignificance when compared to his extreme position, and I'm certainly not planning on adopting a similar approach. Quite the opposite, I'd like to think I'm more like Morrissey when it comes to putting pen to paper.
"I do not mean to be so rude,
Still, I must speak frankly, Mr. Shankly."
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