Thursday. Just Play it Loud, Mr McCartney

  1. “Helter Skelter” – The Beatles (1968) Raw, chaotic proto-metal. McCartney at his loudest and most unhinged. 2. “Oh! Darling” – The Beatles (1969) A blues-rock belter powered by one of his most shredded vocals. 3. “Jet” – Wings (1973) Explosive glam-rock energy with a huge riff and soaring chorus. 4. “Hi, Hi, Hi” – Wings (1972) Dirty, riff-driven rock ’n’ roll; loose, loud, and a bit scandalous. 5. “Junior’s Farm” – Wings (1974) Fast, punchy, bar-room rocker with a relentless groove. 6. “Beware My Love” – Wings (1976) Dark, driving rock with intense vocals, especially fierce live. 7. “Smile Away” – Paul McCartney (1971) Gritty, bluesy swagger; stripped-back and defiantly rough.

Honorable mentions • “I’ve Got a Feeling” The Beatles Loose, live-wired rock with a rooftop-concert edge. • “Let Me Roll It” Wings Hypnotic riff and heavy groove with a nod to Lennon. • “Old Siam, Sir” Wings Sharp, punchy late-Wings rocker with real bite. • “Run Devil Run” Paul McCartney High-octane rock ’n’ roll throwback played with modern fire.

There are now Five in the Companion Series.

These are intended to be fast and easy to read; easy to action and accessible.

Do Less yet Achieve More: The Power of Pareto for Deep Productivity. MEDS: A Daily Strategy for Wellness. How To Be a Storyteller, for authors, presenters and brand ambassadors. How to Beat ChatGPT or How Not to Lose your Career to AI. The Tools of Excellence. Seventy ideas, things and strategies which allow brilliance.

All available instantly-worldwide-on amazon kindle.

Friction Isn’t Always Bad

Friction requires energy and can slow you down. However, it’s essential: friction keeps your car on the road; in icy conditions without any resistance, maintaining control becomes impossible.

In the typewriter era, putting something on the record took effort. You carefully typed on paper, knowing mistakes meant starting over, then delivered it to the mailroom. This process made people think through their words, organise ideas, and skip the trivial.

Email erased that effort; it removed the helpful friction. Now, every fleeting thought becomes a message. With instant messaging, Slack, and notifications, we drown in communication that never needed to be sent.

AI presents a new friction challenge. Tasks that once required serious effort such as creating presentations, writing reports, analysing data now can happen in seconds. This seems like pure benefit until you realise what we’ve lost: the pause that forced us to think.

That sharp slide deck appears instantly, so why not tweak it again and again? Three iterations later, you’ve spent an hour refining what needed simple clarity, not perfection.

The universe didn’t install friction to frustrate you; it installed friction to make you pause, consider, and choose deliberately. Some resistance improves the outcome. Some struggle strengthens the result.

Don’t aim to remove all friction from your day. Remove unhelpful friction such as bureaucracy, ineffective tools, and unclear messages. Keep the friction that brings value such as pausing before you send or the effort that leads to quality and better thinking.

Easy isn’t always better. Sometimes it just gets you to the wrong place quickly.

Friction Isn’t Always Bad

Friction requires energy and can slow you down. However, it’s essential: friction keeps your car on the road; in icy conditions without any resistance, maintaining control becomes impossible.

In the typewriter era, putting something on the record took effort. You carefully typed on paper, knowing mistakes meant starting over, then delivered it to the mailroom. This process made people think through their words, organise ideas, and skip the trivial.

Email erased that effort; it removed the helpful friction. Now, every fleeting thought becomes a message. With instant messaging, Slack, and notifications, we drown in communication that never needed to be sent.

AI presents a new friction challenge. Tasks that once required serious effort such as creating presentations, writing reports, analysing data now can happen in seconds. This seems like pure benefit until you realise what we’ve lost: the pause that forced us to think.

That sharp slide deck appears instantly, so why not tweak it again and again? Three iterations later, you’ve spent an hour refining what needed simple clarity, not perfection.

The universe didn’t install friction to frustrate you; it installed friction to make you pause, consider, and choose deliberately. Some resistance improves the outcome. Some struggle strengthens the result.

Don’t aim to remove all friction from your day. Remove unhelpful friction such as bureaucracy, ineffective tools, and unclear messages. Keep the friction that brings value such as pausing before you send or the effort that leads to quality and better thinking.

Easy isn’t always better. Sometimes it just gets you to the wrong place quickly.

Number 61: A Resourceful Mindset

Henry Ford said ‘Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t, you’re right.

Your mindset decides capability as much as circumstances do. Believe a problem has a solution, and you will keep searching for solutions until you find one. Believe it is impossible, and you will stop looking after the first obstacle.

This is not positive-thinking nonsense; it is observable psychology. People with resourceful mindsets ask different questions: not ‘Why is this impossible?’ but ‘How might this work?’ Not ‘We don’t have the resources’ but ‘What resources could we create or access?’

Resourcefulness finds ways. It substitutes when the ideal isn’t available. It adapts when plans fail. It improvises when following instructions isn’t possible. Obstacles don’t stop the resourceful person; obstacles become interesting problems to solve.

My favourite mindset concerns apparent failure. It’s not: it’s simply feedback.

Resourcefulness isn’t talent, it’s a chosen perspective. Choose ‘how might this work?’ over ‘this won’t work.’ That’s capability unlocked through mindset.

The other 69 Tools of Excellence here.

Before Stories, There Was Fire

Storytelling did not begin as art. It began as survival.

Fifty thousand years ago, a group of early humans gather around a fire as darkness falls. The fire is an innovative technology; it has only been around for a few hundred thousand years, not enough time to reshape the species, but enough to change everything about how humans lived.

Fire means cooked food. Fire means warmth. Fire means light after sunset, which means time. And in that time, around those fires, something extraordinary happens. Humans begin to share experiences that could not be learned individually without considerable risk. Where did danger lie? The elder described the waterhole to the north, how it looked safe, but how his brother had died there, taken by something that emerged from the reeds. Which plants were safe to eat? The woman who had foraged for thirty seasons explained the difference between two similar-looking berries: one nourishing, one deadly and told the story of the child who made the wrong choice. Who could be trusted? The hunter recounted how one member of a neighbouring group had helped him when he was injured, and how that debt had been repaid. What happened when rules were broken? The group shared the story of the man who stole from the community and the consequences.

These tales were not entertainment, though they may have entertained. They were simulations of reality. Survival information was encoded in memorable form. A story was not ‘content’ in our modern sense. It was a cognitive technology for transmitting critical wisdom. Stories were taught across the generations without requiring each person to risk their life to learn them firsthand.

My new How to Be a Storyteller is planned for release late tomorrow.