Blend: Day 10 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Today is Day 10 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, and the word is Blend.

This week is centered on the theme of collaboration. We have already explored the importance of bandmates and the power of invitation. Today moves us into what happens when different voices, ideas, influences, and perspectives actually come together. When we have the combination of contributing gifts from the hands of others, beautiful synergy happens.

One of the clearest examples of “Blend” on Rubber Soul is the album’s vocal harmony. John, Paul, and George each had distinctive voices. They did not sound alike. That difference was part of the magic. Once those disparate voices blended on any given track, a new sound emerged. Songs like “Nowhere Man,” “If I Needed Someone,” “You Won’t See Me,” and “The Word” show how those individual voices could come together and create something richer.

“Rubber Soul” is an album where vocal harmony flows throughout the grooves. None of The Beatles were formally trained in crafting harmony, but the album is rife with pristine harmonies which add to the depth and humanity of the album. Just listen those wordless “Ahhhs” in the middle part of “If I Needed Someone” to get sense of their vocal artistry.

Blend does not mean sameness. Harmony actually depends on difference. Different notes, different voices, and different perspectives come together to create something fuller than any one of them could create alone. You can hear that all across Rubber Soul. Nearly every song carries some beautiful blend of voices, whether it is a harmony tucked into the background or a full vocal arrangement moving the song forward. John, Paul, George, and Ringo each sounded different, yet those differences became part of the album’s identity. Decades later, that blend still resonates. The goal is not sameness. The goal is harmony.

As you create today, think about what you might be willing to blend into your work. Whose voice might strengthen what you are creating? What different perspective could make the work richer? Keep your voice and make room for someone else’s. Bring what only you can bring, but remain open to what another person can add. Rubber Soul reminds us that when distinct voices find a way to work together, the result can become something lasting. You never know what kind of harmony might emerge when different voices meet.

Check out for more on “Blend” in today’s reel:

Invite: Day 9 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Invite: Day 9 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Welcome back to Four Weeks to Rubber Soul. We are embarking on a month long journey to explore creativity through the lens of The Beatles’ album Rubber Soul. The album took about a month to record, and I am engaging in my own daily challenge during these four weeks: do something creative each day in service of this series through blog posts, reels, reflection, and conversation.

This week, our focus is Collaborate, which brings us to today’s word: Invite. Collaboration rarely happens without someone first opening the door. Someone has to share the unfinished idea, ask the question, make the call, or simply say, “What do you think?”

The U.K. version of Rubber Soul opens with the witty rocker “Drive My Car.” It is The Beatles deep in the groove, telling an amusing story that turns the familiar “boy meets girl” trope on its head. Paul McCartney arrived with the musical idea, but the original lyrics were not working. He had a refrain built around “golden rings,” an idea that Paul later acknowledged was going nowhere.

Paul knew he had access to a pretty remarkable wordsmith in his songwriting partner, John Lennon. Rather than protecting an unfinished idea or abandoning it altogether, Paul invited John into the process. The two worked through the problem together, eventually landing on the phrase “Drive My Car” and building the clever story we know today.

That invitation offers a glimpse into the Lennon and McCartney songwriting partnership. Sometimes they wrote together. Sometimes they wrote separately. Sometimes one arrived with a nearly completed song that needed something more. A fragment, missing section, lyric, or unfinished idea could become an invitation for the other person to enter the creative process.

Think about what grew from those invitations. Their collaboration helped change the shape of popular music, yet so much of that extraordinary work began with something remarkably ordinary: an invitation.

The same principle extends beyond Lennon and McCartney. Throughout Rubber Soul, songs changed as they entered the studio and other band members contributed their own musical ideas. Invitation requires trust. It also requires recognizing that another person may possess a gift, perspective, or idea that can take our work somewhere we could not reach alone.

Some of my most meaningful collaborations have begun with a simple invitation. Making that invitation requires a little courage because there is always the possibility that someone will decline. I would rather risk hearing “no” than carry the regret of wondering what we might have created together.

That is how my collaboration with Donya Ball began. I had invited Donya, an author, keynote speaker, and thought leader, to join us as a guest on the Leading While Human podcast. I valued her insights, appreciated her upbeat approach, and recognized that we shared an interest in talking about leadership in real and transparent ways. During that conversation, I realized how much I enjoyed riffing on ideas with her. I decided to extend another invitation.

That invitation eventually became our podcast, Real Riffs. Our conversations have challenged me, expanded my thinking about leadership, and created something that neither of us would have created independently. I am grateful that I made the invitation and even more grateful that Donya accepted it.

As I reflect on Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, I recognize that much of this particular creative journey is a solo pursuit. I am writing the blog posts, recording the reels, creating the social media posts, and showing up every day for a month. Some days, that can be challenging. Sometimes it can even feel a little lonely because I do not have a Lennon or McCartney sitting across from me, ready to riff on the next idea.

Maybe that is where you enter the story.

I hope Four Weeks to Rubber Soul feels like an invitation. Consider this your invitation to share an idea, leave a comment, ask a question, challenge a thought, or tell me what you are creating. I have deeply appreciated the comments and notes of encouragement from those who have joined me during these first nine days. Your words matter more than you probably realize.

Creativity does not always have to be a solo pursuit. Sometimes the next step is simply opening the door and inviting someone else into the room. Your unfinished idea might need another voice. Your next project might need a bandmate. Your creative journey might begin to take a different shape because you had the courage to extend an invitation.

Maybe, over these four weeks, we are all building our own Rubber Soul together.

You are invited.

Bandmates: Day 8 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Today is Day 8 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, and we begin a new theme in our four week journey. This week, we will explore the different ways creativity invites us to collaborate. Collaboration is woven throughout The Beatles story, and it is an essential ingredient of “Rubber Soul.” For all of the individual personalities and voices within the group, this is very much a band album.

“Rubber Soul” was not the product of isolated genius. John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr each brought something different into the room. Producer George Martin and the studio team added their own ideas, judgment, expertise, and craft. Great collaboration expands the work without erasing the individual voices that make the work distinctive.

Our word for today is one of my favorite words: Bandmate.

If you know me, you know that I sometimes view the world as one big band. Each of us has a part to play. Each of us brings a gift that contributes to the sound. I often call people I cherish and trust as collaborators my “Bandmates.” It is my way of expressing gratitude, connection, trust, and kinship. When I call someone a Bandmate, I am saying, “I see you. I appreciate what you bring. I am grateful that we get to make something together.”

“Rubber Soul” offers a wonderful picture of this idea. Look at the back cover of the album and read the credits. Throughout the track listing, you see combinations of names and contributions. For example, you see credits like “Paul and John with George,” “George with John and Paul,” and “Ringo with Paul and John.” You even see specific musical contributions identified, such as George on sitar, Paul on fuzz bass, Ringo on Hammond organ, and George Martin on piano. The back cover almost becomes a set of liner notes for collaboration.

You can hear the same idea on “Think for Yourself.” It is George Harrison’s song, yet listen to everything his Bandmates bring into the recording. Paul contributes that memorable fuzz bass. John adds organ and harmony vocals. Ringo anchors the song with drums and percussion. The group layers its voices together around George. The song retains George’s voice while becoming richer because his Bandmates bring their voices into the room.

That is what great Bandmates do. They do not diminish your voice. They help you discover what your voice can become when it connects with theirs. The individual strengths of John, Paul, George, and Ringo became something even more powerful when those strengths worked together. Rubber Soul gives us fourteen reminders of what can happen when people bring their gifts into the room and make something together.

Who are your Bandmates?

Take a moment today to give someone your own liner notes shoutout. Send a text. Write an email or a note. Make a phone call. Find them in person and tell them what they bring to the band. Let somebody know that you see their contribution, that you appreciate their presence, and that the sound would not be quite the same without them.

Every great band needs Bandmates. Make sure yours know that they matter.

Check out today’s daily reel:

Reflect: Day 7 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

This is Day 7 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, and today’s word is Reflect. We are also closing out Week 1, which has centered on the theme of Begin. The Beatles’ creative growth, so evident on Rubber Soul, came from entering the room with songs, fragments, influences, ideas, and a willingness to work. The lesson is not to achieve perfection before starting. The lesson is to begin the work, knowing that it is completely acceptable if the beginning is rough and raw. What matters is that you enter the room and that the room is the right one, aligned with your creativity and ready to support the gifts you are bringing.

An important part of the creative process is reflection. Creative growth becomes visible when we stop long enough to notice what has changed since we began. Reflection asks us to pause, look back at what we created, and listen again. There is an art to that pause because we do not want to become so immersed in reflection that we lose momentum. Sometimes we need a trusted thought partner or bandmate who can help us listen, notice, and keep our creative work moving in the groove.

That brings me back to Rubber Soul. One reason I am looking forward to the multiple takes and alternate versions included with the forthcoming Rubber Soul Super Deluxe Edition is the opportunity to hear that creative evolution. The Beatles, along with producer George Martin, continually shaped these songs by changing harmonies, sounds, spaces, arrangements, and instrumentation. Reflection does not mean doubting what you created. Reflection means giving yourself enough space to hear what the work still needs.

Sometimes we need to return to what we made and ask three simple questions: What is working? What is missing? What could make this better? On Rubber Soul, a song could enter the studio one way and leave sounding very different on the finished master. That transformation happened because the band was willing to listen to the work as it developed and respond to what the song needed.

For example on “Norwegian Wood,” George Harrison felt that the song needed something different. His growing interest in Indian music led him toward the sitar, and he worked out a part that became one of the defining sounds of the song. That decision helped give the recording its distinctive character and introduced many listeners to a sound they may not have expected to hear on a Beatles record.

“In My Life” offers another beautiful example of reflection in action. The basic track had already been recorded, but the instrumental middle still needed something. George Martin experimented with ideas, including Hammond organ, before developing the Baroque inspired piano passage we now know so well. Since the part was difficult to play at the required speed, he recorded it more slowly and sped the tape up afterward. The result became an essential part of the song and a reminder that sometimes the creative breakthrough comes after we are willing to listen again.

As we close Week 1, take some time to reflect on something you have created. Do not judge it too quickly. Listen to it and ask yourself: What is working? What is missing? What could make this better? Consider bringing a trusted thought partner or bandmate into that reflection because sometimes another set of ears helps us hear possibilities we cannot hear alone.

Reflection is not about doubting your work. It is about asking what the work still needs and then having the courage to make the adjustment. I would love to hear how reflection fits into your creative process as we continue this journey through Four Weeks to Rubber Soul.

Check out today’s daily reel. Thanks to Starbucks for serving as my own Abbey Road Studios!

Listen: Day 6 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Today’s word for Day 6 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul is Listen.

One of the things I love about The Beatles is how much they listened. They absorbed what was happening around them. Folk music. Soul. Motown. Indian music. Bob Dylan. The Beach Boys. They were fans, students, competitors, and curious creators all at once.

They listened deeply, but they did not simply copy what they heard. They took those influences, filtered them through their own voices, and created something that still sounded unmistakably like The Beatles. You can hear that sense of curiosity and expansion throughout Rubber Soul.

That idea keeps coming back to me during this project.

If I ever have the chance to meet you in person, there is a good chance I will ask you one of my favorite questions:

What’s on your turntable?

Sometimes I mean that literally. I genuinely want to know what record you are spinning. The question also goes much deeper than music.

What are you reading? What are you listening to? What are you noticing? What ideas have your attention right now? What is feeding your work, your soul, and your passion?

For me, asking that question is an invitation to connect. I want to know what matters to you because I can learn from you. Your interests, ideas, and passions may help me see something differently. Listening becomes more than receiving information. It becomes an act of connection.

Creativity works that way, too.

We listen to the things that move us. We notice the work of other people. We absorb ideas, sounds, conversations, books, art, and experiences. Somewhere in all of that listening, something begins to stir within us. We take what inspired us and begin making something of our own.

That is part of what Four Weeks to Rubber Soul has become for me.

This is a daily creativity challenge. Every day, I am showing up with a word, recording a reel, and writing a blog post inspired by an album that continues to challenge and inspire me. Some days the ideas arrive easily. Other days I have to dig a little deeper. The point is to keep listening, noticing, creating, and showing up.

Rubber Soul has stayed on my turntable for years because it represents a courageous creative pivot. It reminds me what can happen when artists remain curious, listen widely, trust one another, and allow themselves to grow.

Plus, the music is pretty damn good.

My hope is that these daily riffs might do for someone else what Rubber Soul continues to do for me. Maybe a thought, a song, a question, or one small idea will encourage you to make something, try something, or return to something you have been putting aside.

So, here is today’s invitation:

What’s on your turntable?

What are you listening to, reading, noticing, or experiencing that is challenging you and inspiring your creativity?

Keep listening.

Keep creating.

And keep going.

Watch the Day 6 reel below.

Courage in the Grooves: Day 5 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

It can be daunting to face one’s creativity and then put on display for others. There are many forms and permutations of this feeling. Perhaps, it’s pressing “Publish” on a blog or reel. Maybe, it’s sitting at the keyboard and literally facing the music. We create doubts, orchestrate judgement from others, and quietly place a watermark of failure on our work. This impedes our expression and may even result in the zero sum of our creative output.

We need to dig deeply into our core for the courage to hold our heads high. We have to possess the belief in our creativity. We must be convicted that the world needs our ideas, dreams, and creative action. It takes courage to do all these things. I know it isn’t easy. By taking steps in these Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, my hope is to help inspire courage in your work. You may not have the camaraderie and support of a John, Paul, George, and Ringo surrounding you in your own creative pursuit. My hope is that creativity series will be like a bandmate for you as you dream, explore, and create.

Today’s word is Courage. I explore that very thing in today’s reel. Check out my riffs on “Rubber Soul” in today’s daily reel:

Practice Progression Not Perfection: Day 4 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Day 4: Practice, Progression, Not Perfection

Welcome to Day 4 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul. Today’s theme is practice.

Long before Rubber Soul, The Beatles had already spent years learning how to become a band. Hamburg was one of their great laboratories. During their early residencies there, they played punishing schedules in clubs like the Indra, Kaiserkeller, and Top Ten. At the Indra, they were playing four and a half hours on weekdays and six hours on weekends. When they returned to Hamburg in 1961, the Top Ten schedule stretched to seven hours a night and even longer on weekends. Night after night, they had to keep an audience engaged, stretch songs, improvise, recover from mistakes, and keep playing. 

That kind of work mattered. Hamburg did not magically turn them into The Beatles we know, but it gave them something difficult to manufacture: musical instinct with one another. They learned how to listen, anticipate, adjust, and respond. They developed stamina. They developed confidence. They developed a shared language.

By the fall of 1965, all of those hours were in the room with them when they began making Rubber Soul. The album sessions began in October with a looming Christmas release deadline, giving them roughly a month to create one of the defining albums of their career. That speed was not the absence of practice. It was one of the results of it.

Still, practice did not mean everything came easily.

Take “I’m Looking Through You.” The Beatles spent nine hours working on the song on October 24, 1965. They completed a version that they initially considered finished. Then they came back on November 6 and remade it. They still were not satisfied. They tried again on November 10, arriving at the arrangement that became the master, and completed the recording the following day. The earlier version was slower, arranged differently, and did not even contain the familiar “Why, tell me why” section.  I love that.

One of the great songs on a classic album was not simply delivered fully formed. They worked it. They listened. They changed it. They discarded something they had spent hours creating and began again. That is practice.

Practice is not simply repeating something until you stop making mistakes. Practice is remaining curious enough to ask, What else could this become? It is having enough commitment to return to the work when the first version does not quite say what you want it to say.

Maybe that is why this idea feels especially relevant to me during Four Weeks to Rubber Soul. I am practicing, too.

Every day for four weeks, I am showing up and trying something a little different. I am writing. I am recording reels. I am listening more closely to an album I have known for years. I am experimenting with ideas, formats, stories, and connections. Some days will flow better than others. Some reels will land. Some will need another take. Some ideas may evolve completely before this journey is finished.

I am not waiting until I have perfected the series before I share it. The series itself is the practice. I am learning by doing it.

The Beatles had Hamburg before Rubber Soul. They had thousands of performances, rehearsals, writing sessions, mistakes, arguments, breakthroughs, and countless hours of playing together. Then, when opportunity and pressure collided in late 1965, they had the craft and the connection to create something extraordinary.

Whatever you are working on, give yourself that same permission. Practice. Experiment. Take another run at it. Rewrite the paragraph. Record another take. Play the chord again. Change the arrangement. Keep chiseling away at the thing that matters to you. Do not make perfection the price of continuing. Stay with it.

Check out below for today’s reel:

Your Voice Matters: Day 3 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

One of the things I love most about Rubber Soul is hearing The Beatles become more confident in their own voices. They were still evolving, still experimenting, still figuring things out. Yet you can hear them trusting themselves more.

That matters.

Finding your voice does not mean having everything figured out. It means believing that what you have to say, create, contribute, or share has value. It means resisting the temptation to sound like everyone else and giving yourself permission to bring your full self to the work.

Voice and mattering are connected. When you know you matter, you become a little more willing to speak, create, take a risk, and put something into the world that sounds like you.

That is one of the lessons I hear in Rubber Soul. John, Paul, George, and Ringo were stretching beyond expectations and discovering new possibilities in the process.

Maybe that is our invitation today.

Listen to Rubber Soul. Pay attention to the voices, harmonies, ideas, and creative risks. Then consider your own.

Your voice matters. Use it.

#FourWeeksToRubberSoul

Check out today’s reel for more:

Why This?: Day 2 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Why spend four weeks talking about Rubber Soul? It is a fair question. This is an album released more than sixty years ago by a band whose story has been told countless times. I keep coming back to it because Rubber Soul captures something bigger than a collection of great songs. It captures what can happen when we give ourselves permission to create, experiment, and move beyond what people expect from us.

By 1965, The Beatles were stretching beyond what a Beatles record had previously been expected to sound like. They were not walking into the studio declaring that they were going to create a masterpiece. They simply went in and made the work. They tried things, followed ideas, and trusted their curiosity. George Harrison brought the sitar into “Norwegian Wood.” Paul McCartney incorporated French into “Michelle.” John Lennon turned inward with “In My Life.” “Drive My Car” leaned into American R&B and soul. Across the album, The Beatles were expanding their sound while discovering what else they could become. The journey the band took into creativity with Producer George Martin is just as inspiring and relevant today as it was in the fall of 1965.

That part of the story speaks to me right now because I am currently writing a book called Leadership Riffs. Like most creative work, it comes with questions. Will it connect? Will people read it? Will the ideas resonate? Is there really room for another leadership book? I keep coming back to my purpose for writing. I want to create spaces where people feel that they belong. I want to support the humanity in others. I want leaders to remember that the people around them are not titles, positions, data points, or pieces on an organizational chessboard. They are human beings who want to know that they matter. My hope is that Leadership Riffs contributes something meaningful to that conversation.

Maybe you have something you need to create, too. It could be a book, a song, a podcast, a lesson, a business, a new approach to leadership, or an idea scribbled in a notebook that keeps asking for your attention. The question I keep thinking about is this: Why does your work need to exist? Maybe the better question is, why not? Your ideas matter. Your creativity matters. Your perspective matters. You have a voice and you have value. There are things you can bring into the world that nobody else can bring in quite the same way.

That does not mean everyone will understand your work. It does not guarantee applause, attention, likes, sales, or success. The work still deserves the opportunity to exist. Albums like Rubber Soul remind me that it is okay to step outside the familiar, to experiment, and to follow curiosity before knowing exactly where it will lead. The Beatles could have kept repeating what had already worked. Instead, they kept creating.

With that all in mind, here is my invitation to you. Put on Rubber Soul and really listen. Maybe there is a song, a riff, a lyric, a harmony, or even a small musical moment that gives you the spark you need to move forward with something of your own. For me, it is the harmony in the middle section of “If I Needed Someone,” with John, Paul, and George blending together while Ringo keeps the beat underneath them. There is something about that moment that reminds me how powerful it can be when individual voices come together and create something none of them could make alone.

Find your moment on the album. Let it move you. Let it remind you that your own creative work deserves some space, too. Trust your voice, believe that what you have to offer matters, and create something. The world may need it more than you know.

Check out Day 2 reel created to inspire and invite to creativity:

Begin Your Creativity Journey with The Beatles: Day 1 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

A man with a beard and glasses holds up two copies of the album 'Rubber Soul' by The Beatles, standing in a room with a light background.

For Day 1 of my creativity series on The Beatles and their “Rubber Soul,” I share a quick video riff. In this video riff, I simply invite you to begin. All creativity has to start somewhere after the catalyst for inspiration. It may not be a monumental beginning, but it’s a start.

The first day of the “Rubber Soul” sessions began with two songs, “Run For Your Life” and “Norwegian Wood.” The former was later dismissed by its main author, John Lennon. “Norwegian Wood” is another story. This track sets the stage for the introspective angles evident in the final proudct of the completed “Rubber Soul.”

Today is serendipitous in that we get another sneak peek at the upcoming “Rubber Soul” Super Deluxe Edition with Take 2 of “Norwegian Wood.” It’s rough and raw and not quite the near the poetic elegance that final master reaches. In fact, the song is entitled “This Bird Has Flown.” This title is later hued from the Lennon-McCartney songwriting forest as “Norwegian Wood.”

Check it out here:

In case you missed it, here’s the Day 1 Reel that kicks off our “Four Weeks to Rubber Soul.” Please feel free to share in the comments what you creative pursuit are your beginning to today.

@smgaillard0

Day 1 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul. Today’s word: BEGIN. The Beatles did not walk into the studio with Rubber Soul fully formed. They brought songs, fragments, influences, ideas, and a willingness to work. That is where creative work begins. Show up. Start. Trust the work. What are you making? FourWeeksToRubberSoul WhyTheBeatlesMatter TheBeatles RubberSoul Creativity

♬ original sound – @smgaillard – @smgaillard