Karaoke bars reopened in Portland last month and I went three times in two weeks because apparently a year without performing Fleetwood Mac's "The Chain" in front of strangers left a hole in my personality that nothing else could fill.
On my third visit, slightly too much sake in, watching a man in a Hawaiian shirt absolutely destroy a Whitney Houston song he had no business attempting, I had a brand strategy epiphany. Bear with me.
At karaoke, there are three types of performers. There is the person who picks a safe song they can technically execute and delivers a competent but forgettable performance. There is the person who picks an ambitious song, fails spectacularly, but is so joyful and committed that the crowd loves them anyway. And there is the person who picks the perfect song for their specific voice, energy, and personality, and creates a moment that the bar remembers.
These map perfectly to three brand strategy approaches.
The safe performer is the brand that benchmarks against competitors, identifies best practices, and executes them competently. They never embarrass themselves. They also never create an emotional connection. They are the B+ brand. Inoffensive. Forgettable. Present.
They also never create an emotional connection.
The ambitious failure is the brand that swings for cultural relevance without self-awareness. They try to be funny on Twitter when their brand has no humor equity. They chase TikTok trends that do not fit their identity. They attempt to be cool without understanding what makes them cool. Sometimes the effort is endearing. Usually it is cringe. But at least they are trying.
The third performer, the one who knows their voice and picks the perfect song, is the brand that has done the deep identity work. They know exactly who they are, what cultural spaces they belong in, and what conversations are theirs to join. They do not try to be everything. They are specifically, undeniably themselves.
Mailchimp is a third-performer brand. Their weird, specific design sensibility could only be Mailchimp. Trader Joe's is a third-performer brand. Their hand-drawn signage and Hawaiian shirts are perfectly calibrated to their actual personality. Patagonia is a third-performer brand. They do not try to be Nike. They are exactly themselves, consistently, forever.
The Hawaiian shirt Whitney Houston man, for the record, was a second-performer brand. Heroic in effort, questionable in execution. But I remembered him. Which is more than I can say for the three competent performers who preceded him.
Here is what karaoke understands that brand strategy sometimes forgets: authenticity is not about being good. It is about being right. The right song for your voice. The right energy for your personality. The right cultural conversation for your brand identity. When those things align, technical perfection becomes irrelevant. The audience feels the truth of it.
My karaoke song is "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac. It is not the most impressive vocal showcase. But it fits my energy, my range, and my willingness to be a little dramatic on the bridge. It is my song. I own it.
Every brand needs to find their "Chain." The thing that is undeniably, specifically theirs. Not the most impressive thing they could attempt. The most authentic thing they can own.
Find your song. Commit to it. Stop trying to sing Whitney when you are clearly a Stevie.