Creative Success is Born from Struggle (A note on connection, music, and loss)

Well, what a week…

First, a quick apology: We haven't had time to film or edit an accompanying video this week, so please accept our apologies. Between our commitments, it just wasn’t possible. Normal duty will resume next week!

A Week of Connection and Music

This past week was full of incredible highs and lows.

On the one hand, we had a hugely successful workshop with Phil Harding at School Farm Studios. I loved switching on a Hammond organ for the first time in five years, getting to know our new team members and regular attendees better, and meeting some truly incredible musicians for Phil's new PPG3.0 project.

The workshop was everything we hoped for. Phil and the musicians were phenomenal, and attendees who hadn’t experienced tracking real horns were stunned by the professional, tight work of Tom Walsh and co. Hearing them in the glorious live room at School Farm was a real treat for me, too.

But what I wasn’t expecting was the depth of the conversations I had with both attendees and team members, particularly in the evenings (I think the superb accommodation and a little wine helped!). These honest discussions reinforced a core truth: a lot of what we do as creative people is born from struggle, trauma, pain, and loss. And it's important to remember that.

You Can't Play The Blues In An Air Conditioned Room

There is a song on the hugely underrated Blues Brothers Band album, Red, White & Blues, called 'Can’t Play The Blues In An Air Conditioned Room'. The song is about a struggling blues artist who achieves sudden and enormous financial success from his music—something many of us dream of!—but from that point onwards, he can no longer truly play the blues. His material comfort removes the very emotional core of his art.

I’ve known many artists throughout the years whose enormous success and new-found material wealth have become their creative downfall. It was genuinely good, then, to talk to so many folk this week who are currently in the struggle phase, and are knowingly using it to their creative advantage.

But this also raises a question: What is success?

It's purely subjective. For me, it’s simply enjoying the passage of time, and that comes down to human connection and a non-materialistic focus.

The Value of Not Wanting

My non-materialistic view stems from my relationship with the Hammond organ. When I was 17, I developed an all-consuming love for it. Before then, I’d been playing the current crop of synths—the Yamaha DX7, Roland D50, and Korg M1 era—but after I found my first Hammond, all that ceased to matter. While my peers were seeking the next new thing, I was more than happy with my beautiful, old instrument.

That taught me three key things:

1. To not want something feels the same as having it.

2. Not worrying about acquiring things means not worrying about losing them, and eliminates peer pressure and the feeling of the need to keep up with trends.

   
   

3. You have more time to invest in meaningful connections with other people (and animals!).

These connections were at the heart of our week (and the week of the dogs, cats and alpacas at School Farm!). The wonderfully open conversations revealed devastating struggles that have been turned into success, and afflictions and illnesses that have been transformed into superpowers. It also inspired me to do everything I can to help some of the younger people in our clan, who don't yet know how to deal with the struggles, to transform the negatives into positives.

I also had a poignant personal reminder of this truth this week.

Turning Pain Into Art

I remember many years ago James asking my dear friend, prolific songwriter and Mamas Gun front man Andy Platts for some tips on songwriting, whilst staring disparagingly at an empty DAW project. Andy simply said, “Well, you haven’t really got anything to write about!” and suggested keeping a notebook to log anything that might trigger inspiration.

Then, James’ grandfather passed away.

He came into the studio, sat down with a guitar, and in about half an hour, wrote an incredible piece of music dedicated to him. Technical ability didn't factor into it at all; it came purely from the heart. That raw emotion drove the desire, and then he found a way to accomplish it. The music was played at the funeral, and it left us all in tears.

This week, my own father passed away after a long struggle with a serious illness. At the moment, there is a huge sense of relief, but I know there will be many mixed emotions over the next few weeks, months, and years. I am old enough to know that I can use those emotions to my advantage. They are already knocking my sense of humour into overdrive, and I know that as they evolve they can trigger my creativity as well.

We all feel pain, and most of us don’t have the money we would like. But that genuinely doesn’t matter. Use the struggle to your advantage.

If we had gone out and financed the expensive ATC Dolby Atmos system we thought we needed a few years ago, we wouldn't have developed the MUM range of studio monitors. If we'd sailed through the pandemic with a pile of cash in the bank, we wouldn't have started a YouTube channel, we wouldn't have had the fantastic week we’ve just had at School Farm, and you wouldn't be reading this email.

It can feel incredibly hard to turn struggle into success, but I feel that you generally cannot achieve lasting, meaningful success without it. Embrace it!

Thanks for reading, lots of love, see you next week.

Mark