What brands can learn from Woodstock ‘99
After working for a couple of years as an emergency litter picker at Glastonbury (the things you do for a free ticket), I thought I’d seen the worst of what a festival can throw at you. But holy moly, I’d never seen anything like Woodstock ‘99.
For those not familiar, Woodstock ’99 was supposed to be a contemporary spiritual successor to the original Woodstock festival held in 1969 — the “3 Days of Peace & Music” that became a defining symbol of the 60s. But it didn’t turn out that way.
Woodstock ’99 wasn’t just a proverbial shitshow. It was a literal one. If you’re not familiar with the gory details, check out Trainwreck: Woodstock ’99 on Netflix, the documentary that inspired these musings. (There’s another great doc on HBO, Woodstock 99: Peace, Love, and Rage).
While there are interesting conversations to be had about the weird bro-ragey climate of late 90s culture and the insidious hypocrisy of boomer hippie capitalists, it occurred to me that the festival’s failures can tell us a lot about brands and our relationships with them.
So here’s a highly subjective list of 5 things brands can learn from Woodstock ’99. Crack open a warm $12 bottle of Crystal Geyser, stick in your favourite Korn CD, and enjoy.
1. Your product is your marketing
There’s a telling moment in the documentary when one of the production team recalls suggesting to Michael Lang (organizer of Woodstocks ’69, ’94, and ’99) that the line up they’ve assembled might have a dangerously aggro energy. He, of course, is immediately shut down, the angriest bands in America do their thing, and anarchy ensues. Yes, there were other factors (we’ll come to those), but the lineup was essentially a billboard for a weekend of mayhem. That’s what the frat bros bought, and they made sure to get their money’s worth.
LESSON: Spend more time getting your product right than talking it up. People aren’t stupid. They’ll see it for what it is, no matter what you tell them.
2. When what you say doesn’t match what you do, people will be merciless
While the lineup had a lot to answer for, that alone didn’t cause a riot (I mean, Willie Nelson was also on the ticket). In the end, it was the pile up of thoughtless and exploitative planning decisions — the bleak superfund location, the ubiquitous price gouging, the lack of drinking water, the apocalyptic levels of trash — that offered tangible evidence that despite what they were saying, the organizers really did not give a shit. What really stuck in the collective craw was the hypocrisy of that indifference next to the superficial messages of peace and love. It’s no wonder festival goers re-christened it “END PROFITSTOCK” in six foot high letters across the fences.
LESSON: Don’t create a purpose/practice gap. Perception of your brand is cumulative and is only as good as your weakest links. Sweat the details and make sure your whole brand experience lives up to your stated ambitions.
3. You are not (fully) in control of your brand
The guardians of the spirit of Woodstock (i.e. its brand) believed that it represented something profoundly and immutably idealistic — a celebration of peace, freedom of expression, and brotherly/sisterly communion. And they believed wholeheartedly that everyone else saw it in the same way. After all, if you were there in ’69 (or at least were invested in its lore), how could you not? But the attendees of Woodstock ’99 did not see it that way. They did not share the cultural context. They pared away the tie-die trappings to expose a much more primal vision of the brand. Yes, Woodstock was about freedom, but a much more individualistic and dangerous kind — the freedom to get supremely fucked up with zero consequences.
LESSON: As Marty Neumeier puts it, “A brand is not what you say it is. It’s what they say it is.” The most you can hope for is to influence people’s opinion of your brand. So be consistent and continually act to reinforce the positioning you aspire to.
4. Don’t be afraid to turn a bug into a feature.
While we tend to think of Woodstock ’69 as the archetypal “free” festival — free love, free food, free music — it was never supposed to be that way. Michael Lang had every intention of making it a commercial success. But when poor planning (see a theme here?) led to the ticketing booths being overwhelmed by the sheer number of people who showed up, the commercial enterprise of Woodstock became “free”, and the legend was born.
LESSON: Be responsive, solve problems with as much energy as you might put into an ad campaign. It’s what people remember. And when you can’t solve your problems, embrace them. Just don’t ignore them — that’s when people get the pitchforks out.
5. People will never forget how you made them feel.*
There’s an interview right at the end of the documentary with a girl of fifteen who has just lived through what you’d think was the most hellish experience of her life so far. But when you look at her grimy face, she’s beaming through her braces. Why? Because, for the first time in her life she’s experienced absolute freedom — and nothing is going to take that away from her. When the interviewer asks her if she’d do it again , she replies “Oh yeah. Definitely. For Sure. No questions asked.” Does this seem contradictory to points 1 to 4? Maybe. But humans are emotionally driven, and emotions are messy, contradictory, and completely dictate the way we perceive and remember experiences. Yes it was the worst. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t also the best.
LESSON: Sophisticated brands are built around simple, universal ideas that don’t change. Just ask Jeff Bezos. Fill a powerful emotional gap for people and they’ll forgive you almost anything.
*I’d always assumed that Maya Angelou was the source of this sentiment, oft-used and abused in marketing decks and articles like this one, but the truth is murkier.