“Not everybody likes my act. There are plenty of people who think I’m a windbag, and they may be right,” he admits. “I’ve said the stupidest thing that many of the smartest people in Silicon Valley have ever heard. In a few cases, more than once. I’m not afraid to look like a fool. I assert ideas energetically. Then people shred them. That’s how I learn.”
McNamee likes to say he doesn’t court attention, but people who know him say he crafts his image carefully. He has long been a media favorite, known both for his wit and his accessibility. (In 1995, when Jerry Garcia died on the same day Netscape went public, the New York Times and USA Today quoted McNamee on both events.) Whether opining on CNBC or appearing at industry events, he has worked tirelessly to build himself into a brand.
“There are very few people in the business who you can mention their first name and people know who you are talking about,” says former boss Mathias. “When you say ‘Roger,’ people know.”
But having his own famous persona is no longer enough for McNamee. Today, he dearly wants to build a comparable identity for Moonalice, which plays what he calls ’60s-style music (think Creedence Clearwater Revival meets Barenaked Ladies). The group has a website, moonaliceband.com, where fans can download songs—mostly written by McNamee and his wife, who sings in the band—and read about the Moonalice Legend, which explains, among other things, that hemp (as Chubby Wombat calls marijuana) is “the foundation for the Moonalice culture.”
McNamee isn’t merely a nerd who’s trying to act cool. His goofy charm lies in the fact that he’s a nerd playing a cool guy who hasn’t forgotten he’s a nerd. Consider: He actually has a mathematical formula that he uses to calculate when Moonalice will become profitable (the end of 2009). “All it takes is playing 150 more shows,” he says, explaining that if you presume current audience levels and extrapolate the resulting ripple effect of good word of mouth, Moonalice should be consistently packing 500- to 1,000-seat venues after another 150 outings. To the extent that the possibility of bad word of mouth occurs to him, he chooses to ignore it.
Consider, also, his alter ego. Instead of opting for some kind of futuristic avatar, he has picked a cartoonish, nonthreatening marsupial, whose cuddly-looking photograph can be seen (gnawing on a carrot) in that most revealing of places: McNamee’s Facebook page.
To have cred onstage, McNamee believes, he must adopt an authentic rock-and-roll persona. This explains the hair. “In the business world, one shows respect by wearing a suit and tie. In rock and roll, one shows respect by adopting the sartorial conventions. You sound better when your hair is long,” he told investors at Elevation’s annual meeting. Bono, whose hair couldn’t have been shorter, looked on with amusement.
It also explains why he’s spending so heavily (he won’t reveal how much) on talent. He hired T Bone Burnett, the legendary record producer, to help with Moonalice’s upcoming debut album, and he’s paying salaries to Casady, Sanchez, Smith, and two other professional musicians—pedal-steel guitarist Barry Sless and keyboardist Pete Sears. Also on the payroll: Journey’s former road manager.
« 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 ALL »