So You Want to Hire a Rockstar?

I'm here to disabuse you of that notion

You’ve seen the job posting. A regular company has a regular position open somewhere in their vast organization. On the surface, nothing special. And yet, they seek brilliance. This job is not for just anybody.

The ad inevitably kicks off with the same overcaffeinated call to arms: “We’re looking for our next rockstar…”

Because, apparently, a competent professional just won’t do.

Oh, really?

Would you hire these guys?

I’ve hired well over 100 people at ServiceNow, and I’ve never hired a rockstar. Not even close. I’ve known real rockstars, and trust me—this is not what you are looking for.

Don’t get me wrong, I love musicians--I am one. I started playing in bands when I was 14, toured in the ’90s, played in zBoot for god’s sake. But not every musician is a rockstar. And not every rockstar is a musician.

Wow. Zen.

I wasn’t a rockstar, but I saw the rockstar treatment. I’ve seen rock gods catered to like Roman emperors—hand-delivered meals, pages of their book turned for them while they eat. I’ve been in dressing rooms with rock stars who had fresh needle marks—really nice people. Warm. Generous. Half ghosts of themselves.

I’ve toured enough to know that time dissolves on the road. You forget what day it is, where you are, sometimes, who you are. I’ve seen musicians come off tour looking like asylum escapees.

We all know these stories—the wreckage, the overdoses, the shattered hotel rooms. The desperate, debauched, burned-out husks of people who once shook the world.

But we also know the art. The pure, electric, soul-shaking power of a great rock show. It’s that rockstar that makes us feel anything is possible, that life is loud and wild and beautiful. They open up a vein and give us everything they have inside them and more. It’s like witnessing some kind of magic.

Rawk!

But would you really want to hire this person? To show up on time? To meet deadlines? To answer emails?

Art is chaos—agony, self-loathing, wild bursts of inspiration followed by weeks of doubt. Business? Business is the opposite. It runs on discipline, consistency, and people who don’t disappear for days on a bender.

The Myth of the Rockstar Employee

Companies run on teams. Teams run on dependable people. People who know their role, deliver results, and work toward shared goals. And if you disagree with the direction your recourse may be limited to asking the eternal question: should I stay or should I go? There’s no arguing over what the song is next on the set list.

Rockstars love to operate in environments where there are no rules, no limitations, no structure, no one telling them what to do. This is, again, if i’m not mistaken, the opposite of what happens in business. Business has structure. It has commitments. It has expectations.

Watch any documentary about a band filled with rock stars, and you’ll hear some of the most batshit crazy stories of dysfunction imaginable. I’m not one to lay blame, but at some point, you have to ask: what’s the common denominator?

Exhibit A: the rockstar.

Petty & Campbell happy together. For now.

Mike Campbell, longtime guitarist for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, just published his memoirs. While making the interview rounds, he dropped a wild insight about his 30-year relationship with Petty. Campbell explains that in all those years together onstage and on the road, he and Petty never once had anything close to a heart-to-heart talk. Also, disagreements between the two often ended with words to the effect of, “Hey–I’m Tom Petty and you’re not.”

“Sometimes he made me so angry I couldn’t look at him,” writes Campbell.

If someone says your company is like being in a band–flee. In a band everything is up for grabs at all times. Bands rarely have a structure based on rank or title (such as: Co-Executive Lead Singer or Global Vice President in Charge of Bass). In fact, most bands have zero structure. Everyone gets a say about everything. Some bands are so decentralized that no one is actually in charge and decisions can only be made by default. Look at the Grateful Dead, where no one even wanted to sign checks.

Even so-called flat companies? Structured. Don’t let the branding fool you. There’s always a backstop of authority. Probably the founder. Definitely the lady in accounts payable. Some people just don’t have time for bullshit.

So What Do You Really Want?

If I’ve convinced you that you don’t actually want a rockstar, you need to ask yourself: what do you want?

You don’t want a rockstar. You want a pro. Someone who can do the job without demanding a bowl of cocaine and a creative sabbatical.

1. They need to know their stuff. Whether it’s deep coding, tripling the sales pipeline, or running projects with ruthless efficiency, they should know their role inside and out.

1. They need a solid track record. “Plays well with others” matters more than you think. Not just fitting in, but thriving—making things better, not leaving a wake of destruction.

1. They need to show up. On time, every time, ready to get shit done. No drama. No chaos. Just someone who pulls their weight and actually wants to be there.

Companies Work. Bands Fall Apart.

Companies produce results on the shoulders of professionals. Bands burn out on the emotions of their members.

Another reminder from Mike Campbell:

“Bands are very delicate animals. There's egos and resentments that can develop. I don't think many people understand how difficult it is to keep a band together. Things come up and one guy gets mad and says, ‘I don't need this shit.’”

You, good reader, I assume, work for a company, not a band. You want success. You want to get paid. You want to work with people who help you hit your goals.

So after all this, I ask you—do you really want a rockstar? Or do you just want someone really good at their job? I think we both know the answer.

Stop Saying Rockstar. Say This Instead.

May I humbly suggest we consider using different verbiage in your next job ad? A few choices might be: expert, visionary, go-to person, anchor, professional. Feel free to cut and paste.

If you really mean “rockstar,” be ready for someone who shows up late, disappears for days, takes months to finish a project, and demands ONLY brown M&Ms in the break room.If you want excellence without the baggage, use better words.

Because if you’re looking for a real rockstar—you better be ready for the whole ride.

End of tour breakfast.

Postscript:

Turns out, I did once hire a rockstar. A contractor. Liked him, offered him a full-time job. On his way to work the next morning he got pulled over and busted for weed. He finally made it to the office—just in time to receive his failed drug test.

I needed stuff done. We parted ways.

Rock on.