Throughout my career, the fanbase has been like one big significant other to me, a thousand-headed friend with whom I have a real, committed partnership. I don’t take vacations from communicating without warning. We share our art with one another. They help me run the business by feeding me constant information. I cop to my mistakes. They ask for explanations. We talk about how we feel. I twitter to say good night and good morning, the way I would with a lover. They bring me food and tea at shows when I’m sick. I visit them in hospitals and make videos for their friends’ funerals. We trust one another. Occasionally, I’ve broken up with fans. Some have broken up with me. …
When I reflect on the last fifteen years of my life in music—all the touring, talking, late-night signing, blogging, twittering, couchsurfing, crowdsurfing, and all other variety of eye-to-eye, soul-to-soul, hand-to-hand connections I’ve shared with the members of my crowd—I see it as a net. …
I couldn’t outsource it. I could hire help, but not to do the fundamental things that create emotional connections … The net tightens every time I pick up my phone and check in on Twitter, every time I share my own story, every time I ask a fan how their project is coming or promote somebody’s book or tour.
The net tightens when someone in the community loses her [home] in a fire and tweets me for help and I throw the information out to the fanbase, who go to work offering money, shelter, catsitting, and words of kindness. … I feel pride when I see that magic happening: the fans helping one another out, … breaking the boundaries of “stranger” etiquette because they feel a trust and familiarity with one another under our common roof. …
The [record company] didn’t understand why they should pay for the band to maintain a website year-round. They thought it was something that only needed to be “up” when we had a new record to promote, and wouldn’t pay to keep the site active the rest of the time. I was baffled. I don’t think you guys get it. Our website is like a Real Place. It needs to exist all the time. … That’s just how a relationship works. …
National Public Radio has been following the connect-connect-connect-then-ask model forever: it’s called the annual on-air fund-raiser. They create and transmit nonstop, they give away their reporting, storytelling, and content for free all year.
And then when the time comes: they ask.
And, fundamentally, all asking works like this. You must prepare the ground. If you’re going to be asking one day, you need someone to ask who is going to answer the call. So you tend to your relationships on a nonstop basis, you abide by the slow, ongoing task, going out there like a faithful farmer, …
And then, when it is time—whether you’re asking a bunch of people to preorder your album [book], or asking one person to hold back your hair while you’re puking—someone will be there for you. …
… The only people who can really judge if a request is fair are the ones being asked—the ones who have the relationships are the ones who understand the complexity of the situation. … Effective crowdfunding [platformbuilding] is not about relying on the kindness of strangers, it’s about relying on the kindness of your crowd.
There’s a difference.
Transcribed by me from pages 89, 121–2, 236, 244 in my hardcover edition of The Art of Asking, Grand Central Publishing/Hachette Book Group, Inc., © 2014.
Tweet: It’s “not about relying on the kindness of strangers, [but] relying on the kindness of your crowd.”
Tweet: Relationship = community = fanbase = platform.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I have not received any compensation for writing this post. I have no material connection to the brands, products, or services that I have mentioned. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”