Sunday, 19 September 2010
Friday, 2 July 2010
there is a light that never goes out
Later this month, South Wales police and the coroner’s office, following receipt of the toxicology report, will record the official death of former Stereophonic’s drummer turned broadcaster, Stuart Cable. Cable, found dead at his home in Llwydcoed, not 24 hours after his former band played a triumphant homecoming set at the Cardiff City stadium, is one of a number of deaths across the music business that have blighted 2010.
Cable was only 40 when he died but was a classic larger-than-life character and he packed several lifetimes into his four decades on the planet.
For me, as a contemporary of Cable’s, if not an acquaintance, his passing was particularly poignant as, in very many ways, he was “Living the Dream”. Well, the dream of any teenage boy who has played air guitar or air drummed in their poster covered bedrooms. Guilty, your honour.
Cable’s childhood and life history is classic valley boy made good. Growing up in Cwmaman and largely raised by his mother, Mabel, after his father passed away when he was ten, Stuart had a pretty normal childhood. He and his elder brother Paul, like many teenage boys in the South Wales valleys, fell in love with heavy metal, particularly the music of Antipodean rockers AC/DC.
This love of music led Stuart towards drumming and, legend has it, whilst rehearsing an AC/DC song in his bedroom, he was overheard by neighbour Kelly Jones. They met, formed a bond and, not long after, formed a band.
Tragic Love Company spent much of the early to mid 1990s touring working men’s clubs in the valleys until, following a change of name to Stereophonics, a persistent manager called John Brand and a little bit of luck they found themselves as the first signing to Richard Branson’s V2 label. It was 1996, the height of Cool Britannia.
Their rise in popularity seemed inexorable.
It was also a strange rise to fame. They were not the critics’ darlings and even fans would never accuse them as being particularly fashionable or forward thinking. What they were however, were a band full of integrity and honesty. You couldn’t fault their graft.
This work ethic and constant touring won them increasingly larger and larger audiences and, if they were concerned that they weren’t exactly getting the critical acclaim, they weren’t showing it. Just take a look at the video for “The Bartender and the Thief”; fireworks, explosions, Vietnam and Cable in a ridiculous US GI helmet. This is a band full of glee and joy. 1998 Brit Award for Best New Band? Step forward, please, boys.
As with most things, it couldn’t, and didn’t, last. Stuart’s private life complications have been well documented and need no repetition here but it was also clear that the strains between Cable and the rest of the band were becoming more and more pronounced as the new Millennium got underway.
I don’t know whether it was Cable’s burgeoning media career- the BBC Wales chat show Cable TV being one example of his branching out-his frustration with Kelly Jones approach to songwriting and production, the toll of relentless touring, the debates over so-called “commitment issues” but by 2003, Cable was out of the band.
In his candid autobiography Demons and Cocktails, Cable was reflective, admitting that there were challenges being in the band but also that he had his own challenges. Notably, he confessed that he had battled with drink and drugs, saying that fame had turned him into a "coke-taking zombie". He also expressed anxiety around loneliness and a continued desire to return to his roots.
Notwithstanding, and, to my mind, reflecting a particularly Welsh streak of stubbornness, Cable went on to forge a second career in the media, including stints on radio stations XFM and Kerrang! Although he didn't play the drums for a year and a half after leaving Stereophonics, he had started playing again with Stone Gods and formed a new group called Killing for Company who I was supposed to be seeing at this year’s Download festival, along with 100,000 other rock and metal fans.
Cable, ever the glass half-full optimist professed to have no regrets, and his valediction is easy to understand. "We achieved so much – headlining Glastonbury, Reading, playing the Morfa Stadium, the Millennium Stadium," he once said. "If I'd made a wish-list when I was 16 and all those were on there, I'd be a very happy chappie."
I know exactly what he meant. I was brought up in the South Wales valleys where adolescent boys of a certain age followed Manic Street Preacher Nicky Wire’s 11th Commandment "thou art Welsh; thou shalt like Motley Crue". Cable was much the same. His drive and desire to break away from the valleys, not because he didn’t love them (on the contrary) but because he wanted to simply fulfil his dreams, is both simple, endearing and resonates deeply.
Unlike the passing of former Black Sabbath/Dio/Rainbow singer Ronnie James Dio, (perhaps the greatest singer that Heavy Metal has produced), or the sad and lonely passing of bassist Paul Gray from Iowan band Slipknot, Cable’s passing, although widely reported on as a news item at the time, hasn’t quite received the reflection that it’s due. Cable recognised the preposterousness of what he was involved with but, equally, he appeared to loathe the self importance pomposity of some within the music business.
Paradoxically, for one of rock n roll’s often keenest advocates of excess, he appeared to be one of its most down to earth, humble and engaging characters. The old adage of “you can take the boy out of the valleys, but you cannot take the valleys out of the boy” seems particularly apposite.
Whilst he may have had the trappings of rock star wealth- the overstuffed Bentley, the Cardiff Bay apartment, the mock tudor mansion, Cable appeared resolutely grounded. I never knew Cable personally but I know what Cable was about. You knew you wanted a drink- no make that, drinks- with him. You know he would be good for the cab fare home. You know he would have been good for that 2am kebab. He was one of us. RIP, mate.
Cable was only 40 when he died but was a classic larger-than-life character and he packed several lifetimes into his four decades on the planet.
For me, as a contemporary of Cable’s, if not an acquaintance, his passing was particularly poignant as, in very many ways, he was “Living the Dream”. Well, the dream of any teenage boy who has played air guitar or air drummed in their poster covered bedrooms. Guilty, your honour.
Cable’s childhood and life history is classic valley boy made good. Growing up in Cwmaman and largely raised by his mother, Mabel, after his father passed away when he was ten, Stuart had a pretty normal childhood. He and his elder brother Paul, like many teenage boys in the South Wales valleys, fell in love with heavy metal, particularly the music of Antipodean rockers AC/DC.
This love of music led Stuart towards drumming and, legend has it, whilst rehearsing an AC/DC song in his bedroom, he was overheard by neighbour Kelly Jones. They met, formed a bond and, not long after, formed a band.
Tragic Love Company spent much of the early to mid 1990s touring working men’s clubs in the valleys until, following a change of name to Stereophonics, a persistent manager called John Brand and a little bit of luck they found themselves as the first signing to Richard Branson’s V2 label. It was 1996, the height of Cool Britannia.
Their rise in popularity seemed inexorable.
It was also a strange rise to fame. They were not the critics’ darlings and even fans would never accuse them as being particularly fashionable or forward thinking. What they were however, were a band full of integrity and honesty. You couldn’t fault their graft.
This work ethic and constant touring won them increasingly larger and larger audiences and, if they were concerned that they weren’t exactly getting the critical acclaim, they weren’t showing it. Just take a look at the video for “The Bartender and the Thief”; fireworks, explosions, Vietnam and Cable in a ridiculous US GI helmet. This is a band full of glee and joy. 1998 Brit Award for Best New Band? Step forward, please, boys.
As with most things, it couldn’t, and didn’t, last. Stuart’s private life complications have been well documented and need no repetition here but it was also clear that the strains between Cable and the rest of the band were becoming more and more pronounced as the new Millennium got underway.
I don’t know whether it was Cable’s burgeoning media career- the BBC Wales chat show Cable TV being one example of his branching out-his frustration with Kelly Jones approach to songwriting and production, the toll of relentless touring, the debates over so-called “commitment issues” but by 2003, Cable was out of the band.
In his candid autobiography Demons and Cocktails, Cable was reflective, admitting that there were challenges being in the band but also that he had his own challenges. Notably, he confessed that he had battled with drink and drugs, saying that fame had turned him into a "coke-taking zombie". He also expressed anxiety around loneliness and a continued desire to return to his roots.
Notwithstanding, and, to my mind, reflecting a particularly Welsh streak of stubbornness, Cable went on to forge a second career in the media, including stints on radio stations XFM and Kerrang! Although he didn't play the drums for a year and a half after leaving Stereophonics, he had started playing again with Stone Gods and formed a new group called Killing for Company who I was supposed to be seeing at this year’s Download festival, along with 100,000 other rock and metal fans.
Cable, ever the glass half-full optimist professed to have no regrets, and his valediction is easy to understand. "We achieved so much – headlining Glastonbury, Reading, playing the Morfa Stadium, the Millennium Stadium," he once said. "If I'd made a wish-list when I was 16 and all those were on there, I'd be a very happy chappie."
I know exactly what he meant. I was brought up in the South Wales valleys where adolescent boys of a certain age followed Manic Street Preacher Nicky Wire’s 11th Commandment "thou art Welsh; thou shalt like Motley Crue". Cable was much the same. His drive and desire to break away from the valleys, not because he didn’t love them (on the contrary) but because he wanted to simply fulfil his dreams, is both simple, endearing and resonates deeply.
Unlike the passing of former Black Sabbath/Dio/Rainbow singer Ronnie James Dio, (perhaps the greatest singer that Heavy Metal has produced), or the sad and lonely passing of bassist Paul Gray from Iowan band Slipknot, Cable’s passing, although widely reported on as a news item at the time, hasn’t quite received the reflection that it’s due. Cable recognised the preposterousness of what he was involved with but, equally, he appeared to loathe the self importance pomposity of some within the music business.
Paradoxically, for one of rock n roll’s often keenest advocates of excess, he appeared to be one of its most down to earth, humble and engaging characters. The old adage of “you can take the boy out of the valleys, but you cannot take the valleys out of the boy” seems particularly apposite.
Whilst he may have had the trappings of rock star wealth- the overstuffed Bentley, the Cardiff Bay apartment, the mock tudor mansion, Cable appeared resolutely grounded. I never knew Cable personally but I know what Cable was about. You knew you wanted a drink- no make that, drinks- with him. You know he would be good for the cab fare home. You know he would have been good for that 2am kebab. He was one of us. RIP, mate.
Wednesday, 12 May 2010
I have never been a fan of fudge
so at last, we are getting somewhere. The LibCon govt is up an running with much fanfare, and, it seems, equal amounts of opprobrium from the usual naysayers and cynics. I hope this government does well- as it will be bad for the country if they dont- but dont ask me to agree with much of its policies as I voted for the other lot. The one that lost.
Sunday, 28 March 2010
Sunday am ramble
Guess what? There's a general election looming. Lots of Joy and fun. Or rather not if all we are going to get are Mr Ed Balls and Mr Michael Gove repeatedly refusing to answer questions that, not only are reasonable, but easy to answer. If hectoring and obfuscation appear the two games in town for the main parties then the main result I think will be a lot of stay at home voters which does no one any good at all
The Labour pledge card was a cracking idea- can they please now follow it up with some detail- I think they do have some of the answers; I just wish they'd stop using some of their more senior politicians who do their damndest to avoid engaging with what they are.
The Labour pledge card was a cracking idea- can they please now follow it up with some detail- I think they do have some of the answers; I just wish they'd stop using some of their more senior politicians who do their damndest to avoid engaging with what they are.
Friday, 26 March 2010
Gene Genius
It used to be said that if you wanted to understand the nature of a people and its culture all you had to do was take a look at what they were cooking and eating. Actually, I think you can get a much better understanding from what they are reading and watching. This must mean that Wales is a nation of murderers, rapists, extortionists and bank robbers because what we are reading and watching is crime fiction and drama. By the bloody bucket-load.
According to data firm Nielsen, the biggest selling author last year was Dan Brown, who is clearly a crime writer masquerading as a conspiracy theorist. In the top 10, you’ll also find James Patterson, John Grisham and the late Stieg Larrsson whose tattooed heroine, sleuthing her way through a distinctly Ikea-unfriendly Sweden, has captivated readers across the globe.
It’s not just the written word. The biggest television show on the planet is the Crime Scene Investigation (CSI) franchise. In its original guise, set in Las Vegas, CSI is not strictly a cop show but in every other respect it sticks entirely within the set framework of crime drama. Its combination of crime committed, evidence gathering, witness interrogation, plot twists (of subtle and not so subtle varieties), chase and dramatic conclusion has been a successful formula since Dragnet in the 1960s, through the honourable Streets of San Francisco, Hawaii Five-O and Starsky & Hutch in the 1970s to the glorious success and espadrilled excess of Miami Vice in the 1980s. In many ways CSI is a fabulously old fashioned programme albeit with higher production values and more glamorous settings.
Crime drama has clearly become the critics’ darling too. The argument over “The greatest television show of all time” has vacillated between “The Sporanos” and “The Wire”. Neither of these are crime dramas in the traditional sense. Both David Chase (Sopranos) and David Simon (The Wire) have written extensively of how they were looking to challenge the existing paradigms of crime drama on television. Simon in particular has written about how The Wire was deliberately designed not to have the classic leitmotifs of likeable protagonist, linear storytelling and satisfactory denoument.
Tellingly, fans of the Wire will often tell you that it is the characters who are the supposed “bad guys” that are the most sympathetic and compelling to watch whilst the law enforcement officers often have personal failings that make them difficult not just to like but to merely engage with, which makes the drama itself so much more rounded, dense and textually rich. It’s still a crime drama though.
So why do we love this stuff so much? C.Day Lewis thought the detective story was a twentieth-century folk tale. Nick Elliot, once the head of drama series at the BBC, believes "Crime fiction satisfies in us a secret yearning for justice, the unappeasable appetite for a fair world, which begins in childhood and never leaves us. It satisfies our need for conclusions, both moral and narrative." Before the war, both the detective story and the thriller reassured the middle classes that all would be well: nothing to fear from criminals and lower orders.
Crime drama is designed to entertain. Crime drama and fiction may have literary and higher aesthetic aspirations, and often achieves them, but its emphasis on entertainment ensures that these aspirations do not intimidate potential viewers and readers.
We also use crime drama to reflect and, often, laugh at ourselves. In his “Aberystwyth” series of novels, Wales’s own Malcolm Pryce has created a very knowing pastiche of the hardboiled detective. Pryce’s protagonist, Louie Knight, is Humphrey Bogart via Ceredigion. There are constant in-jokes to movies and novels but it’s the black humour and pointed vignettes of a fading West Wales that linger longest. He writes:
“How many other people, honeymooners and young families, had made the same journey as the rain swept in from the sea and pounded on the plywood roof of their shoebox on wheels? Families who had driven for two or three hours, stopping occasionally for puking children, to the world of gorse and marram grass, dunes and bingo and fish and chips."
For me this evocative portrayal of holidays past rings uncomfortably true and proof, were it needed, that crime writers can often transcend the limits of the genre in different and often surprising ways.
Likewise, witness the popularity of the Life on Mars/ Ashes to Ashes shows. The emergence of Gene Hunt, a “man’s man” or “copper’s copper” has resonated in ways previously not envisaged by the show’s creators. What was originally a character to loathe has, thanks to the tremendous acting of Philip Glenister, become an anti-hero for our times. His moral certainty, sense of purpose and penchant for the politically incorrect one liner has made him a household favourite. But it is not simply a sense of nostalgia that Hunt invokes in us. He very cleverly holds up a mirror and says “look at this stuff- wasn’t it completely daft?” and we nod our collective heads in agreement and recognition. Gene knows that life is serious but it doesn’t always have to be.
It has been suggested that its appeal has a psychological dimension. I think much of this is a simple fascination about what lies beneath. We hear about crime but rarely see it. We cheer watching the gangsters get away with it. We’re appalled by their duplicity. We cheer when they get caught. We’re sobered to see that crime doesn’t pay.
The best crime dramas do not suggest a remedy for crime or reassure us that all in the end will be well; but they can help us to understand our society, and they also allow us to hope that evil will not go unpunished. Crime drama fascinates partly because it entertains, partly because it enables us to understand who we are, where we are going and what we could become. Crime drama has the ability to shine a proverbial torchlight into the darker aspects of the world in which we live. We are allowed to stare into the abyss and know that it will not stare back. Don’t have nightmares.
According to data firm Nielsen, the biggest selling author last year was Dan Brown, who is clearly a crime writer masquerading as a conspiracy theorist. In the top 10, you’ll also find James Patterson, John Grisham and the late Stieg Larrsson whose tattooed heroine, sleuthing her way through a distinctly Ikea-unfriendly Sweden, has captivated readers across the globe.
It’s not just the written word. The biggest television show on the planet is the Crime Scene Investigation (CSI) franchise. In its original guise, set in Las Vegas, CSI is not strictly a cop show but in every other respect it sticks entirely within the set framework of crime drama. Its combination of crime committed, evidence gathering, witness interrogation, plot twists (of subtle and not so subtle varieties), chase and dramatic conclusion has been a successful formula since Dragnet in the 1960s, through the honourable Streets of San Francisco, Hawaii Five-O and Starsky & Hutch in the 1970s to the glorious success and espadrilled excess of Miami Vice in the 1980s. In many ways CSI is a fabulously old fashioned programme albeit with higher production values and more glamorous settings.
Crime drama has clearly become the critics’ darling too. The argument over “The greatest television show of all time” has vacillated between “The Sporanos” and “The Wire”. Neither of these are crime dramas in the traditional sense. Both David Chase (Sopranos) and David Simon (The Wire) have written extensively of how they were looking to challenge the existing paradigms of crime drama on television. Simon in particular has written about how The Wire was deliberately designed not to have the classic leitmotifs of likeable protagonist, linear storytelling and satisfactory denoument.
Tellingly, fans of the Wire will often tell you that it is the characters who are the supposed “bad guys” that are the most sympathetic and compelling to watch whilst the law enforcement officers often have personal failings that make them difficult not just to like but to merely engage with, which makes the drama itself so much more rounded, dense and textually rich. It’s still a crime drama though.
So why do we love this stuff so much? C.Day Lewis thought the detective story was a twentieth-century folk tale. Nick Elliot, once the head of drama series at the BBC, believes "Crime fiction satisfies in us a secret yearning for justice, the unappeasable appetite for a fair world, which begins in childhood and never leaves us. It satisfies our need for conclusions, both moral and narrative." Before the war, both the detective story and the thriller reassured the middle classes that all would be well: nothing to fear from criminals and lower orders.
Crime drama is designed to entertain. Crime drama and fiction may have literary and higher aesthetic aspirations, and often achieves them, but its emphasis on entertainment ensures that these aspirations do not intimidate potential viewers and readers.
We also use crime drama to reflect and, often, laugh at ourselves. In his “Aberystwyth” series of novels, Wales’s own Malcolm Pryce has created a very knowing pastiche of the hardboiled detective. Pryce’s protagonist, Louie Knight, is Humphrey Bogart via Ceredigion. There are constant in-jokes to movies and novels but it’s the black humour and pointed vignettes of a fading West Wales that linger longest. He writes:
“How many other people, honeymooners and young families, had made the same journey as the rain swept in from the sea and pounded on the plywood roof of their shoebox on wheels? Families who had driven for two or three hours, stopping occasionally for puking children, to the world of gorse and marram grass, dunes and bingo and fish and chips."
For me this evocative portrayal of holidays past rings uncomfortably true and proof, were it needed, that crime writers can often transcend the limits of the genre in different and often surprising ways.
Likewise, witness the popularity of the Life on Mars/ Ashes to Ashes shows. The emergence of Gene Hunt, a “man’s man” or “copper’s copper” has resonated in ways previously not envisaged by the show’s creators. What was originally a character to loathe has, thanks to the tremendous acting of Philip Glenister, become an anti-hero for our times. His moral certainty, sense of purpose and penchant for the politically incorrect one liner has made him a household favourite. But it is not simply a sense of nostalgia that Hunt invokes in us. He very cleverly holds up a mirror and says “look at this stuff- wasn’t it completely daft?” and we nod our collective heads in agreement and recognition. Gene knows that life is serious but it doesn’t always have to be.
It has been suggested that its appeal has a psychological dimension. I think much of this is a simple fascination about what lies beneath. We hear about crime but rarely see it. We cheer watching the gangsters get away with it. We’re appalled by their duplicity. We cheer when they get caught. We’re sobered to see that crime doesn’t pay.
The best crime dramas do not suggest a remedy for crime or reassure us that all in the end will be well; but they can help us to understand our society, and they also allow us to hope that evil will not go unpunished. Crime drama fascinates partly because it entertains, partly because it enables us to understand who we are, where we are going and what we could become. Crime drama has the ability to shine a proverbial torchlight into the darker aspects of the world in which we live. We are allowed to stare into the abyss and know that it will not stare back. Don’t have nightmares.
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
Business Lessons from the Egg Chasers
Analogies between sport and business are commonplace. I'm not pretending that this blog piece will be any different but a couple of things struck me whilst watching both the Ireland v Wales and England v Scotland games which I thought were worth sharing.
It's not been the best Six Nations tournament for Martin Johnson and his men has it?
Critics of England point out that they aren't sure what the game plan is for the English side.
On the contrary, I think the England problem is that they know EXACTLY what the game plan is. England's real problem is one of leadership.
On the pitch it is so obvious that Steve Borthwick- nice man though he is- is his master's voice in that he appears be be utterly unable to make any decision other than those that were previously agreed upon in the classroom or the training pitch.
This means that the team are bound together so tightly around "the plan" that they do not know how to deal with matters that happen on the pitch that don't accord with their own plan- this is either supreme arrogance or supreme stupidity. What it isn't is a plan to win international rugby matches.
Likewise the sheer lethargy of the English set play was emblematic of a wider absence of speed of thought, leadership and decision making. Apart from Borthwick bleating at the referee- again- there was a noticeable absence of anyone prepared to make a different decision, be spontaneous or change tactics. The result: a stifling, trench warfare and a shoe in for this week's cure for insomnia. Following plans and processes are all well and good but this adherence matters not a jot when the opposition are cutting darting runs through your flat defence and you can't scrummage for toffee.
Lesson: it's important to have a strategy but the strategy is meaningless unless you have either a) a back up or b) the right personnel to deliver it.
Although it pains me greatly to admit it, the Welsh have a similar problem. Although their play is intermittently sparkling, they have made little progress this year.The extraordinary win against Scotland was simply that- extraordinary. Poor against England, simply not at the Ireland game, the Welsh can take some comfort in an excellent second half against France. But that's it. Again the problem can be traced back to leadership. Ryan Jones is palpably not the man who, was once suggested as a Lions captain. The rush defence tactics employed so well by Shaun Edwards two years ago is now being used by opposing teams to devastating effect. In stark contrast to England, where invention flair and lateral thinking would add to their game plan, for the Welsh it is the need to get the basic plan right that currently is their major flaw. The lineout has been woeful, the scrummage workmanlike, the turnovers unacceptably high.
For Wales, the long discussion with the drawing board is about to begin. Lets face it: although rugby is a simple game made complicated by its rules, the default position of "Give the ball to Shane" is not a long term strategy that will pay dividends.
Lesson: Don't assume that doing things the same way will bring you dividends; often the competition has moved on. Refresh your strategy regularly and don't be afraid to try something new just because you've always done it "your way". As Einstein said, the true sign of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.
It's not been the best Six Nations tournament for Martin Johnson and his men has it?
Critics of England point out that they aren't sure what the game plan is for the English side.
On the contrary, I think the England problem is that they know EXACTLY what the game plan is. England's real problem is one of leadership.
On the pitch it is so obvious that Steve Borthwick- nice man though he is- is his master's voice in that he appears be be utterly unable to make any decision other than those that were previously agreed upon in the classroom or the training pitch.
This means that the team are bound together so tightly around "the plan" that they do not know how to deal with matters that happen on the pitch that don't accord with their own plan- this is either supreme arrogance or supreme stupidity. What it isn't is a plan to win international rugby matches.
Likewise the sheer lethargy of the English set play was emblematic of a wider absence of speed of thought, leadership and decision making. Apart from Borthwick bleating at the referee- again- there was a noticeable absence of anyone prepared to make a different decision, be spontaneous or change tactics. The result: a stifling, trench warfare and a shoe in for this week's cure for insomnia. Following plans and processes are all well and good but this adherence matters not a jot when the opposition are cutting darting runs through your flat defence and you can't scrummage for toffee.
Lesson: it's important to have a strategy but the strategy is meaningless unless you have either a) a back up or b) the right personnel to deliver it.
Although it pains me greatly to admit it, the Welsh have a similar problem. Although their play is intermittently sparkling, they have made little progress this year.The extraordinary win against Scotland was simply that- extraordinary. Poor against England, simply not at the Ireland game, the Welsh can take some comfort in an excellent second half against France. But that's it. Again the problem can be traced back to leadership. Ryan Jones is palpably not the man who, was once suggested as a Lions captain. The rush defence tactics employed so well by Shaun Edwards two years ago is now being used by opposing teams to devastating effect. In stark contrast to England, where invention flair and lateral thinking would add to their game plan, for the Welsh it is the need to get the basic plan right that currently is their major flaw. The lineout has been woeful, the scrummage workmanlike, the turnovers unacceptably high.
For Wales, the long discussion with the drawing board is about to begin. Lets face it: although rugby is a simple game made complicated by its rules, the default position of "Give the ball to Shane" is not a long term strategy that will pay dividends.
Lesson: Don't assume that doing things the same way will bring you dividends; often the competition has moved on. Refresh your strategy regularly and don't be afraid to try something new just because you've always done it "your way". As Einstein said, the true sign of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.
Monday, 8 March 2010
End of the Pier Show- of sorts
Anyone who works in a large, blue chip organisation will know the pain and agony that comes with the end of the financial year. Huge amounts of stress will be built up as lots of potential sales are converted, lots of orders processed, lots of expenses claimed and lots of debt chased down.
For those who work in corporate HR functions, their experience is largely similar as the year end headcount targets are scrutinised and the year end performance process/annual review gets underway.
This is the time of year that many colleagues will tell you that its probably the worst time to be an HR practitioner. On the one hand, everyone wants to be your friend, as they think you have some influence over their pay review- on the other, you are public enemy number one, reminding everyone that there is not a limitless pot of money for the annual bonus round or that Steve in sales should not be rated as "amazing" when he failed to deliver any new business.
So what to do? Actually, this can be the best time of the year. If HR's job is to help motivate and engage the business then now is absolutely the right time. Either through coaching, providing advice or just doing your job damn well, its now that HR can truly have an influence- in setting strategy, ensuring standards and driving for the goals of the organisation at large. It's a great time of year to be in the HR function. Time to embrace the chaos, not avoid it.
For those who work in corporate HR functions, their experience is largely similar as the year end headcount targets are scrutinised and the year end performance process/annual review gets underway.
This is the time of year that many colleagues will tell you that its probably the worst time to be an HR practitioner. On the one hand, everyone wants to be your friend, as they think you have some influence over their pay review- on the other, you are public enemy number one, reminding everyone that there is not a limitless pot of money for the annual bonus round or that Steve in sales should not be rated as "amazing" when he failed to deliver any new business.
So what to do? Actually, this can be the best time of the year. If HR's job is to help motivate and engage the business then now is absolutely the right time. Either through coaching, providing advice or just doing your job damn well, its now that HR can truly have an influence- in setting strategy, ensuring standards and driving for the goals of the organisation at large. It's a great time of year to be in the HR function. Time to embrace the chaos, not avoid it.
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