Dear friends,
It was such a moving week! After working on the project for a year releasing the first song felt really liberating. I’ve especially enjoyed reading your messages, and was bowled over by the flurry of comments on the video for “Vampires”. It’s hard to express what fuel that is for me as I prepare the next steps. Beyond that, it reminded me how much giving a moment of your day can mean to someone else. It highlighted that the greatest joy comes through our participation in life — and that after a time of creative solitude, I am most excited to share, exchange and give back. It felt like the best release I’ve had for years — not because of the metrics, but because of the support I’ve received. Thank you all!
Today I want to jump into 5 ideas around the release which are helping me — and which I think can be applied to any project.
1. Do The Obvious Work
Several weeks ago I read a newsletter by one of my mentors Justin Welsh titled: Start Doing the Obvious Work.
It landed at a critical time for me.
I was two weeks away from releasing “Vampires” and I had the feeling that I wasn’t living up to the project I’d put so much work into.
Sure, I’d gone deep into the creative process — finding the songs already felt like its own victory.
As creatives, we want to live in the fantasy that creating the work is enough.
The reality, though, is that only brings you to the door.
The question then becomes: how do you get this heard in a saturated attention economy?
Most creatives live in the long tail - working with limited time, resources and money.
Having a successful release is not exclusively about the work’s quality — it is about having the tenacity, resilience and fortitude to get your work into the world.
This is the work we most resist.
Why?
Because it’s the work that we didn’t choose this path to do.
The reality, though, is that the world has pluralised.
It is a flooded market — the world doesn’t need more “content”; it needs less!
It is a brutal reality but part of the job of the artist nowadays is to recognise the environment they are entering.
Steeling yourself is not enough — you have to learn the skills that can support your release.
I’ve been chuckling on my socials that I’m having to try to become a mini-major label.
I did set up my own label for the release — “Kroft Records” — and it’s, well, fun to have a vehicle to get stuff out directly.
When I heard Justin’s maxim about doing the obvious work it hit kinda hit me like a bus.
I realised there was a whole bunch of obvious work that I was avoiding.
This was work that I could do but that I didn’t yet know how to do.
The reason I was avoiding it was that it would take me hours of learning stuff that I have little primary interest in — such as marketing.
However, I knew that “Vampires” was a good song — and if I wanted people to hear it, I had to do two things:
Make Some Noise
Start Doing the Obvious Work
An example of the second was that I’ve never applied for Spotify playlisting — which is absurd given that this is the way that people hear music and gain new audiences today.
There is a whole science behind Spotify and triggering its algorithms.
It’s anathema to me.
But I’ve realised that if I want things to be different to how they’ve been in the past, I have to act differently.
So I rolled up my sleeves, and gave myself a daily target of Playlists to apply to.
I’ve been very pleased with the result - “Vampires” was accepted onto 23 Playlists, each with a reach between 1k to 30K.
That’s a potential audience of 100K.
We’ll see if that has a worldly effect or not. I once had a song called “Obstacles” on a Spotify editorial playlist, which brought 500K play — there is a serious difference between on a list with millions of subscribers and which is pushed by the algorithm that invented it.
The point, though, has zero to do with the metrics.
It is about recognising that getting something into an attention economy is a game. I want to learn better its rules.
I figure this:
As an independent artist, you have to make a society of bets.
That is how I see the release — and it is why I have chosen to release the songs over 12 months.
It utilises time and buys me the opportunity to learn and implement new things.
It also increases the surface area for one of those bets to stick.
By bets, I mean songs of course!
Justin’s maxim helped me realise that one of the most important aspects of this release cycle is to lean into the areas that I am most resistant to.
How?
By starting to do the obvious work.
2. The Value of Systems
Here is my dream: I want to tour again.
The reality?
To get to what you do want you have to be willing to do a lot of what you don’t want.
Last year I would like to have cut down on my work and focused more on my music. But I was financing the album through my work and it meant that I had to take on more, not less.
I have written in some detail about the psychological demons I faced while writing this album —
writers’ block
anxiety about my talent
wondering if the market had already made its judgement
What I have talked about less was exhaustion.
Often I was going to my creative space low on energy because I’d been out filming or had worked a full day on edits for clients.
I realised quickly that to buy myself more time I was going to have to revolutionise my process as a filmmaker.
How could I do less work but deliver better results? I worked on this idea all year and streamlining my process spiralled me upwards. I was doing better work faster — in part because I was driven by an internal why.
I know why I was doing my work.
The effect was a fantastic year workwise with new clients such as Rolling Stone, Lolapalooza, 8 music videos in Dubai and a photographic billboard campaign for the 100th Centenary of the S-Bahn (special thanks team Döring!)
The effect of building systems into my professional life meant that I was always ahead of deadline - creating momentum and impact for my clients — and buying me back the time I needed to express my creative heart in music.
The point I make is that it is very easy to bring a negative attitude into what we have to do when there is something else we want to do.
The problem is this attitude builds negativity into our mindset — and that mindset then carries into other areas of our life, including our creative work. Or worse, not doing it at all.
The thing I am most proud of with these songs is that I had every excuse in the world not to write them.
What got them written was the space bought back for creativity by implementing effective systems.
And when my motivation lagged, I followed this up with a tough question:
Are you going to fight for your dream or are you going to live your excuses?
3. Automated Robot Day
This is an idea I’ve pinched from Oliver Burkemann’s “Meditation for Mortals”:
Have a weekday when you crunch the tasks you most avoid.
My relationship with life at the moment is motivated by how I can make space for what I want to do.
It helps me to acknowledge that I am working within a realm of limitatons — rather than wishing for a kingdom of ideal circumstances that don’t exist.
The choice is clear:
Ignore what needs to be done, letting small lizards grow into looming, unchallenged dragons—or tackle what you’d rather avoid and create the space for - the magic realm.
The paradox is that the tasks we avoid end up taking ten times longer when we resist them. Having a “robot day” helps me because I set the expectation in advance: my goal isn’t to enjoy these tasks, but to approach them with flow and non-resistance—clearing the way for what brings me joy: creativity.
Curiously, this sense of surrender toward obligations—accepting them regardless of whether we want to do them or not—greatly helps in finding enjoyment in the process. Even the administrative “dog-work” required for any endeavour, including creative work, becomes more bearable, if not satisfying.
The problem with much of productivity culture is that its sole aim often seems to be productivity itself—an endless loop of efficiency for efficiency’s sake.
It’s a systemic hoax that keeps our self-worth shackled to how much we do.
My goal with productivity is entirely the opposite:
It is to make space for creative time — time when I am within a process that is not hell-bent on just doing stuff.
Knowing the reward I hope for — time to create, improve and be within a space pregnant with potential — empowers me.
Whenever what you have to do is wearing you down, try to return to the idea of why you are doing it.
It is a reframe that helps me greatly.
I’m finding that my “automated robot day” isn’t just helping me get my life in order—it’s completely changing how I experience the tasks I’d rather avoid.
Watching the Premiere of “Vampires” on YouTube
4. What You Can, Not What You Can’t
When you release something it is easy to fantasize about the things you’d like to happen — rather than focus on the things you can do.
I remember when I was on EMI.
What they don’t tell you is how much easier everything gets the higher up the food chain you climb.
You have tour buses, support bands with massive audiences, a marketing team behind you. The venues are better, the sound systems are first-rate, and connections to top producers and advertising agencies come as a matter of course.
I remember getting paid 5K for a 30-minute gig for Microsoft!
These are things it is easy to fantasize about — or to look back longingly on to.
The world is full of unfair advantages though.
Rather than fixating on what you don’t have though, you have to focus on what you do have.
It doesn’t matter if you only have one thing going for you—lean into it, build on it, and make it count.
Last week, I released a song without any
Marketing campaign
Promotional company
Radio support
But it made a little splash.
Why?
Because I focused on what I could do — not what I couldn’t.
It was limited and the results will not revolutionise my life.
But I started a much more important thing:
Building momentum.
What matters to me is not the experience of the billions of people who don’t hear the song.
It is to enhance the experience of those who do.
The most significant “result” of last week’s release was the amount of messages I received from other creatives asking me about my process.
I’ve been open about the fact that I’m rebuilding from zero musically—and about the challenges I faced while writing this material.
I’ve received a lot of messages asking me to expand on what I’ve said publicly.
In each response I’ve tried to be as helpful as I can — encouraging, yes — but useful too.
My strength isn’t that I have a lot of support.
It’s that I don’t.
And yet, some people are noticing that, despite this, the project is a high-level presentation project.
Whether or not they “like” the songs, there’s an appreciation for the sound production, the filmmaking, and the storytelling woven around it.
The contrast between the backstory—the struggle of making it—and the strength of execution is creating a curiosity gap.
People can relate to Zero Hour because it is something that most of us have been through — or are struggling with.
My story is about encouraging people to understand this space is incredibly fertile.
More than that — that this is where your best work can be found.
The point is that I am concentrating on what I can do — not what I can’t.
Though I would just love this project to grow into something beyond itself, nothing can compare to the reward that I feel in helping people.
We all experience dark times in our lives.
One thing you learn is that the deepest knowledge comes from that space—nothing shapes you like it.
Passing that on helps you see that those times had a purpose—and that helping others through theirs is its own kind of reward.
Beyond this, it invites people into the project.
And that, I believe is the most powerful building block.
In a world where music is free and people curate songlists with music they love but don’t know the name of their favourite songs, I want to try something different.
Less people; but people that understand what the songs are about — who have an access key into their meaning.
I am not in a position yet to tour. I have to build this project digitally if I am ever going to have a chance to fulfil that dream.
That means embracing the two unfair advantages that I have:
Time — I can play the long game in a world addicted to quick fixes.
Story — I know my story, and I believe it can resonate.
Yes, to build out of the long tail we need “critical mass”
Why not, though, think in terms of quality first?
Are you available to those who are interested in your work?
Are you ready to help them if you can?
What knowledge can you give that might improve people’s lives?
5. How Are You Conveying Your Story?
I was speaking with an incredible electronic artist the other night.
She has a release coming up and we spoke for about an hour. I listened to her pain points and the areas of the release she was struggling with, and then, afterwards, shared as much as I could about what areas I could help her with.
What struck me most of all was this:
She had no idea how interesting her story is — and the life she lives too.
Or rather, I suspect she does, but doesn’t realise how interesting her life could be for others.
Here’s the thing:
We have to become our own messenger.
In a world saturated with noise, content and distraction — we have to
Stand for something
Stand by something
It is not enough for an artwork to stand on its own anymore.
You have to help it find its audience — and only at that point does it have a chance to take on its own life.
The best foundation for that is, I believe, to build a writing habit.
“Vampires” felt like such a positive release because my audience knew what it was about even before they heard it.
When there is so much noise, we need to give people an access point.
Its key?
A story people can follow.
Beyond how much I am enjoying music coming back into my life, what is bringing so much meaning is that I am on a journey with a small group of people who are following.
There is a backstory.
There is a dream.
And there’s a hell of a lot of jeopardy too.
I am owning the fact that none of what I hope will happen might actually happen.
It is entirely unlikely.
The record industry is a nightmare — even when you have its backing!
It is also a good foe though.
I am 45 and re-entering an area of the world that is hard to break into any age but is particularly gated for older people.
Let’s call my chances zero.
But somehow, I really like my odds!
They are making me feel alive, learn new stuff and participate in a new way with the world.
No one’s coming to help — that’s the reality.
And it’s invigorating as hell!
Take your foe.
And give him hell.
Focus on what you can, not on what you can’t.
Thank you for the support, everyone!
Jim
YOUTUBE
This was published 43 seconds ago — I believe what’s inside the box will rescue my touring life!
Your dedication to your work and art is inspiring. ✨✨✨
Sorry, but this time I don’t agree (only with the titel). Aren’t you the one who shows us since years how to overcome the things we normally can’t and do it anyway…?! In few months you’ll be a master of the loop station, playing it while making a sandwich. And the beeping you‘ll facing is like the sound of your nasty child…