Nick Drake

The Sound That Prevails: Leadership Lessons from Nick Drake and Unseen Impact

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The Vinyl Moment

This morning, I started my day with a cup of black coffee and a vinyl spin. I always appreciate the reflective warmth of time alone with coffee and the crackle of the needle on an album. I decided to start the day with Nick Drake’s “Five Leaves Left.” His 1968 debut is going through a renaissance of source with a recently released multi-disc archival reissue. “The Making of ‘Five Leaves Left'” was recently nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Historical Album.” “Five Leaves Left” is timeless and intimate with the delicate stylings of Nick Drake’s voice and solid layers of his acoustic guitar fingerpicking. Some of the tracks resonate with the lush sensitivity of orchestral accompaniment. Unfortunately, the quiet beauty of this music was largely unheard in Nick Drake’s lifetime. The album did not chart in the artist’s United Kingdom homeland or the United States. It is estimated that “Five Leaves Left” my have sold 5,000 copies initially. A few UK critics admired the album and praised its songwriting, but Nick Drake’s debut did not serve as the basis for any triumphant herald.

There is something sacred about starting the day with Nick Drake on vinyl. The gentle crackle of the needle gives way to his quiet voice, fragile yet eternal. In his lifetime, few listened. His albums never charted. His songs drifted into silence before they could find an audience. Yet decades later, his music has become a timeless canon that reaches hearts he never lived to know. I think about that often as a leader. We may never fully know the reach of our work or the appreciation we long to feel. We hear the critiques, the surveys, the noise of what is wrong. But somewhere, in the midst of that silence, our sound still carries. It reaches someone. It matters.

The Unheard Artist

Nick Drake’s musical career continued on that same trajectory as his debut. He released two more albums in his lifetime. None of them charted and received little radio airplay. Nick Drake also struggled with promoting his work due to his lack of confidence with live performance. The record company believed in his artistry but struggled with how to market and promote him. Nick Drake also struggled with depression. Tragically, Nick Drake died at 26 unaware of how profoundly his music would resonate decades later.

There’s something in the story of Nick Drake that mirrors leadership. The work we do as leaders is sometimes unseen, unacknowledged, and often uncelebrated.

The Leader’s Quiet Stage

As a school leader over the years, I have had my share of complaints, negative survey outcomes, and feedback that can sting. It’s easy to for others to fixate on what’s wrong or missing from your leadership. In those moments, it can alienating like no one can hear the song you are trying to play. Even though these moments are fleeting, sometimes they can fester. I can definitely acknowledge the emotional cost that those moments can ignite spaces of self doubt, loneliness, and Imposter Syndrome. We have to tune into the belief that leadership, like art, is an act of faith that the sound will reach someone even if you never know it.

A Therapeutic Takeaway for Reflection

In a recent conversation with my therapist, he encouraged me to sit still and reflect upon the impact that I had made over the years as a school leader. It was a timely reminder that I took to heart as we bemoaning the negative moments and allowing them permission to define my core and impact as a leader. Sometimes, it’s not loud applause but quiet ripples that matter the most. Those quiet ripples like a teacher’s growth, a student’s success or a colleague’s encouragement that resonate in ways that we never know. We just have to know that when we lean into the gifts of others that we are making an impact. We have to believe in ourselves even on the days when we think no one believes in us.

An Unlikely Impact in a Volkswagen Commercial

Nick Drake’s songs eventually reached millions nearly 25 years after his untimely death. The resonance of his beautifully wrought music from his small corpus of three albums took time, but it happened. In 1999, a commerical promoting the Volkswagen Cabrio used the title track from Nick Drake’s final album, “Pink Moon.” A massive revival of Nick Drake followed and the small cult following that had kindled the flames of Nick Drake’s work felt validated by this movement. I remember seeing said commerical and almost falling off my couch. I had lovingly kept, “Way to Blue,” a compact disc complilation of Nick Drake’s music as one of my most cherished albums. I was in a small club of devoted followers who were drawn to the ache of Drake’s music-the bittersweet, poetic lyrics, the complex guitar tunings, and the moving production. Now, Nick Drake was catapaulted into legendary musical infinity. His voice now timeless and boundless for future generations to discover and cherish.

In leadership, sometmes our influence often plays out long after the moment. The sound of encouragement, belief, and kindness endures even if we never hear it echoed back. When we do hear that echo land back to us, it is important that we treasure that moment and know that our presence mattered to someone else. We should take stock of that moment of impact on someone else and be grateful that our presence mattered to someone else and proved to be a salve for that person.

I think of the leaders and teachers who saw something in me that I did not see in myself and I am grateful. As best as I can, I try to let that past leaders and teachers that their seemingly small act of seeing me and believing in my worth changed my world. Even though Nick Drake passed away when I was a mere child of four years and an ocean away, his music made my days less lonely when I was questioning my own journey. Now, I unabashedly give thanks for the music and legacy of Nick Drake.

Keep Playing

Even when appreciation feels absent, keep playing your song. Leadership is not a performance for applause or validation. Sometimes, it’s a quiet composition for connection. The work we do may not always be noticed, but it still matters. Somewhere, in a classroom, a meeting, or a passing moment, a note of what you’ve created is resonating. The sound may be soft, but it carries. Keep playing, even when the room feels silent. Trust that your melody will reach someone who needs it, even if you never hear the echo. The sound prevails.

Here’s the famous 1999 Volkswagen commercial featuring Nick Drake’s “Pink Moon.”

Keep Playing, Even If No One Is Listening

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There’s something powerful about picking up the guitar, writing the words, and hitting record—even when it feels like no one is tuning in. The greatest artists, thinkers, and change-makers didn’t wait for an audience before they started creating. They played. They wrote. They spoke. They persevered against the silence.

Paul McCartney recorded McCartney alone, layering every instrument himself. Bruce Springsteen stripped it all down and put out Nebraska, unsure if anyone would connect with its raw vulnerability. Nick Drake’s Pink Moon was met with quiet indifference at first, only to become a masterpiece embraced long after he was gone. These albums weren’t made for applause; they were made because the artist had to create.

The same applies to you. Your words, your leadership, your creativity—it all matters, even if it feels like no one is paying attention. Keep writing the blog. Keep crafting the lesson. Keep showing up for your students and colleagues. Someone, somewhere, will be moved by your work when they need it most.

The silence isn’t a signal to stop. It’s an invitation to keep going. #LeadershipRiffs

The Art of Going Solo: Why Leaders Need Time Alone

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As I stood in line at Barnes & Noble with a couple of new books under my arm, I was feeling deflated. A recent collaborative project I had spearheaded hadn’t gone as planned. My vision for what it could become was met with challenges and miscommunications—mistakes I take full responsibility for. I found myself yearning for the comfort of a bookstore, a sanctuary where I could immerse in words and ideas, hoping to reset my mindset.

While browsing, the headline of a recent Harvard Business Review article caught my eye: “We’re Still Lonely at Work.” It stopped me in my tracks. Loneliness is an epidemic many of us grapple with, whether we’re school leaders, teachers, or district administrators. The piece reminded me of the isolation that can creep in, even when surrounded by people. As leaders, we often navigate a delicate balance between fostering connection and feeling adrift in our own roles.

The Myth of Constant Collaboration

In our line of work, there is a pervasive myth: that the most effective leaders are always collaborating. We’re encouraged to find our “bandmates,” to build a culture of teamwork and shared vision. And while this is crucial, it’s equally important to recognize when it’s time to take a step back and find our creative solitude.

I’ve had the privilege of being part of incredible collaborations, whether it’s through projects like my podcasts, #PrincipalLinerNotes and #HopeAmplified, or through dynamic partnerships in our school’s Professional Learning Network (PLN). Yet, I’ve also experienced the sting of collaborations gone awry—those moments when trust is broken or communication falters. I’ve had ideas co-opted, projects I thought I’d be part of move forward without me, and connections that simply fizzled out. There was the time I thought I was co-writing a book with someone, only to find out they decided to go ahead without me. Or the time I drafted a conference proposal for a co-presentation with a colleague, only to learn they chose not to include me and took the idea to someone else. These setbacks can feel personal, prompting deep reflection on my own role and contributions.

When those moments happen, I retreat into my own creative space. I turn to music and the stories of artists who dared to go solo, forging their own paths when the band wasn’t quite the right fit anymore.

Solo Albums as Metaphors for Leadership

Paul McCartney’s McCartney, Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska, and Nick Drake’s Pink Moon all come to mind. Each album is a testament to the power of going it alone. McCartney, grappling with the breakup of The Beatles, recorded his first solo album at home. It’s raw, intimate, and features a vulnerability that inspires me. Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska began as a set of demos intended for the E-Street Band. But when the full band recordings didn’t capture the raw emotion of the demos, Springsteen made a bold decision: he released the demos as the album. It’s a haunting, spare record that wouldn’t be the same with a full band.

Joni Mitchell’s Clouds is another beautiful example of solo expression. On this album, Mitchell showcases her introspective songwriting with just her voice and guitar for much of the record. It’s a deeply personal work that highlights the power of stripping back the layers and letting the essence of the music shine through.

Keith Jarrett’s The Köln Concert is a masterclass in solo creativity. This entirely improvised piano performance captures the raw beauty of an artist fully immersed in their own expression. It’s a reminder of the magic that can happen when we trust ourselves enough to follow our instincts, even without a plan.

These albums remind me that sometimes, we need to embrace our own creative solitude. It’s okay to be a solo act. In fact, it can be essential for recharging our spirits and clarifying our vision as leaders.

Gratitude for Collaborative Partners

As much as I value these solo pursuits, I am equally grateful for the collaborative partners who have taken a chance on me and embraced the spirit of shared creation. I owe a deep sense of gratitude to the few incredible educators who have been true bandmates on this journey. They’ve shown me the power of trust, shared vision, and authentic connection. Their willingness to join forces has renewed my belief in the possibilities of collaboration and reminded me of the joy that comes from making music together.

Four Ways Leaders Can Embrace Solo Creativity

Here are four actionable steps for leaders to carve out solo time and tap into their own creative wellspring:

  1. Write It Out: Start a blog, write a journal entry, or even pen a letter to your future self. Writing is a powerful tool for reflection and can help you process your thoughts and emotions. It’s your own form of “audio journaling,” much like Springsteen’s Nebraska.
  2. Record a Podcast Episode: If you’re feeling inspired, create a solo podcast episode. It doesn’t have to be perfect—just hit record and share your thoughts. This process can be cathartic and help you find your voice, much like McCartney did on his solo debut.
  3. Go for a Solo Walk or Run: Physical exercise can clear your mind and offer a fresh perspective. Leave the headphones at home and listen to the rhythm of your own thoughts. It’s a form of active meditation that can spark new ideas. Outdoor space is good for inspiration and introspection. You can even take Joni Mitchell’s album, “Clouds” with you on a solitary walk.
  4. Create an Art Piece: Whether it’s painting, drawing, or playing an instrument, creating something with your hands can be a wonderful way to express yourself. Like Keith Jarrett’s improvisations, let it be unstructured and free-form. See what emerges when you follow your instincts.

Conclusion: Finding Hope in Solitude and Connection

Leadership is about fostering a sense of belonging and connection for the people we serve, but it starts with us. It starts with acknowledging the times when we need to go solo, to reflect and create on our own terms. By stepping away from the noise of constant collaboration, we strengthen our ability to be present and authentic in our partnerships. We need both the band and the solo album to thrive.

As you reflect on your leadership journey, I encourage you to find your own version of “Walden Pond.” (Thoreau’s Cabin is pictured in the blog graphic for a reason.) Seek out those moments of quiet solitude to recharge your creative energy. It’s in these moments that we build the core of who we are as leaders. By doing so, we can return to our collaborations with renewed clarity, a sense of purpose, and the resolve to foster true connection and belonging.

Let’s embrace our solo efforts, find hope in our quiet moments, and continue building a sense of community for the bandmates who share this leadership journey with us. The interlude into solo pursuits can serve as the antidote for combatting work loneliness and inviting others into the band.