Welcome to The Manager’s Playbook, my personal newsletter where I share insights from Music Executives and Artists for aspiring and emerging music managers, executives and artists on how to navigate the music industry. This newsletter is brought to you by Mauricio Ruiz.

That’s it.

That’s the part people skip.

They start with the look. The rollout. The photos. The font. The mood board full of references from artists who already know who they are.

And all of that can matter. Taste matters. Presentation matters. How something shows up in the world matters.

But if there’s nothing underneath it, people can feel that.

That’s what I appreciated about this next episode with Amber Grimes.

She doesn’t talk about branding like it’s decoration. She talks about it like something an artist has to actually live inside.

Which makes sense. She’s been in a lot of rooms. Spotify. Capitol. LVRN. Developing artists. Superstar artists. Artists with cult fanbases. Artists still trying to figure themselves out while the business is already asking them to perform clarity.

That’s a tough place to be.

Because branding is not just how an artist looks.

It’s how people understand them.

It’s the reason someone comes back after the song is done. It’s the world around the music. It’s the difference between someone saying, “I like that record,” and someone saying, “I get this artist.”

That second one is harder to earn.

So, with Amber’s episode in mind, here are the 8 branding testaments she believes every artist, manager, and developing executive should be paying attention to.

Quick business check:

If you’ve got music out, you’re probably leaving publishing money on the table.

Publishing royalties can come from streams, performances, and online usage, but collecting worldwide is a maze of registrations and middlemen.

That’s why KOSIGN exists. Built by Kobalt, KOSIGN lets you submit once and they handle global registrations to help you collect every cent you’re owed, plus direct DSP licensing (Spotify/Apple) where possible. No long lock-in either: rolling quarterly term.

It’s selective, but the application is 100% free. Apply now.

Everybody says authenticity now, so the word feels a little tired.

But the real thing still works.

Amber’s point was simple: you can’t build an artist brand on a lie. Not anymore. Maybe there was a time when the industry could dress somebody up, give them a story, clean up the edges, and hope nobody looked too closely.

That time is gone.

Fans can tell when something is forced. They can scroll back. They can find the old clips. They can hear when an artist is borrowing a personality because somebody told them it would make sense for the market.

That’s why Summer Walker works.

Summer is not always easy to package. That’s part of what makes her interesting. She’s honest. She’s emotional. She has boundaries. Sometimes she’s private. Sometimes she’s very public. Sometimes she makes the business side more complicated because she’s not pretending to be somebody else for convenience.

But people believe her.

That matters more than people want to admit.

The music, the interviews, the posts, the silence, the frustration, the softness, the edge; it all feels like it’s coming from the same person.

That’s brand.

Not perfection.

Truth.

For managers, this is where the work starts. Not with inventing an identity for the artist. That usually goes wrong. The job is to listen closely enough to understand what’s already there, then help bring it into focus.

A lot of artists can explain the sound.

They can name the influences. They can describe the genre. They can tell you what playlist they want to be on and what artists they think their fans also listen to.

Cool.

But why should anyone care?

That’s the harder question.

Amber brought up Jay-Z in the episode, and it made perfect sense. Jay-Z was never just selling rap music. He was selling possibility. He was selling ambition. He was the guy who came from where he came from and turned himself into proof.

That becomes bigger than records.

That becomes a reason for people to buy in.

Not every artist’s “why” has to be billionaire aspiration, by the way. It could be survival. It could be freedom. It could be joy. It could be rage. It could be making people feel less alone. It could be proving that somebody from your city, your culture, your family, your circumstances, can become something nobody expected.

But there has to be something underneath.

Otherwise, people may like the song, but they won’t know what they’re joining.

And that’s the difference.

A song can get attention.

A reason gives that attention somewhere to go.

A fanbase listens.

A community shows up.

That’s where the leverage is.

Amber talked a lot about direct connection in this episode. Broadcast channels. Text lists. Discord. Substack. EVEN. Laylo. Group chats. All these different places artists can build a more direct relationship with the people who care.

But the platform is not the point.

The relationship is.

This is where a lot of independent artists get caught. They want ownership, freedom, leverage, better deals, better partners, and more control. All fair. I get it.

But they haven’t built the thing that gives them any of that.

An audience they can actually reach.

Not followers. Not random monthly listeners. Not a little spike from a song landing in the right part of the internet.

A real community.

People who know the story. People who remember the details. People who feel like they are part of something before the rest of the world catches up.

That’s why the 6lack bear moment worked. It wasn’t just a stunt. It meant something because fans remembered. There was history there. LVRN wasn’t just grabbing for attention. They were pulling from the world that had already been built.

That’s the difference between marketing at people and building with them.

Teams can create the container. The text list. The rollout. The fan touchpoints. The system.

But the artist still has to show up.

Fans know when the relationship is real. They also know when they’re being used for a campaign and forgotten the minute the album drops.

If people can’t remember you, they can’t repeat you.

And if they can’t repeat you, they can’t help you grow.

There are a lot of talented artists who are hard to describe. Good songs. Good voice. Good visuals. Good taste.

Everything is technically fine.

But nothing sticks.

That’s a problem.

Amber said an artist should be describable in a few emojis. I love that because it forces clarity right away.

Can someone explain your world without giving a TED Talk?

Can they describe your energy?

Can they tell a friend what you are before the conversation moves on?

Fans are not walking around with your brand deck. They need something they can hold onto. A symbol. A phrase. A place. A feeling. A look. A recurring detail. Something that makes the artist easier to remember and easier to pass along.

Again, the 6lack bear is a great example because it wasn’t random. It had memory attached to it. It tied the old world to the new one.

That’s strong branding.

Not “let’s do something crazy.”

More like, “what already means something, and how do we make people feel it again?”

A lot of independent artists don’t need a bigger budget. They need more clarity and more patience. They leave their own ideas too quickly because they’re bored of them.

But the audience usually needs more time.

By the time you’re sick of the thing, people may just be starting to recognize it.

Stay with it longer.

Talent is not the separator anymore.

That sounds harsh, but it’s true.

There are too many talented people. Too many good singers. Too many good rappers. Too many producers with taste. Too many artists with cameras, editors, beats, distribution, and a decent visual language.

So the question can’t just be, “Are you good?”

A lot of people are good.

The better question is, “What makes you different?”

Amber gave one of the best examples in the episode when she talked about Summer Walker and SZA.

They can both live in similar emotional territory. Both can be tied to R&B. Both can write about love, heartbreak, insecurity, relationships, resentment, softness, and all the complicated things that come with being human.

But they are not saying the same thing.

Amber broke it down like this:

Summer’s music feels like, “What’s wrong with you?”

SZA’s music feels like, “What’s wrong with me?”

That’s brilliant.

Same general world. Completely different lens.

That’s what artists need to find. Not just the genre. Not just the sound. Not just the visual reference.

The lens.

What do you see that other people don’t?

What do people come to you to feel?

What can only really come from you?

That’s where the brand lives.

Not in the playlist category.

In the point of view.

Consistency gets mistaken for repetition.

That’s not what it is.

It doesn’t mean doing the same thing forever until everybody is tired of you. Artists should evolve. They should try things. They should get older, stranger, sharper, softer, better. They should change their minds. That’s part of being human.

But people still need a thread.

Something has to connect the artist we met to the artist we’re watching now.

Without that, every era starts to feel like a reset.

That’s why I keep thinking about the 6lack rollout. Bringing the bear back wasn’t just a cool idea. It reminded fans where the story started. It gave the new campaign some memory. It told the day-one fans, “We remember too.”

People care about that.

They want to feel like the artist remembers the journey.

Amber’s career has that same kind of thread. Different companies. Different roles. Different levels of responsibility. But the work still feels connected. She builds. She connects. She understands artists. She knows how to turn identity into strategy without stripping out the human part.

For artists, consistency is not about looking the same every time.

It’s about still feeling like yourself when the world around you changes.

For managers, it’s about protecting the signal.

Every post, song, video, interview, merch drop, show, and rollout does not need to match perfectly. That can get stiff fast.

But it should feel like it belongs to the same world.

Not everything needs to be explained.

This is getting harder for artists.

Everybody is being pushed to share more. Post more. Talk more. Show more. Document the studio session. Document the rollout. Document the breakdown. Document the healing. Document the relationship. Document the lesson learned from documenting the thing you just documented.

I get why.

The internet rewards access.

But mystery still matters.

Maybe more now because there’s so little of it left.

Authenticity does not mean giving people every piece of you. It means giving them something true. Those are different things.

Some artists overshare so much that there’s no tension left. No curiosity. No distance. No magic. Everything is explained in the caption before the audience has a chance to feel anything.

That can flatten an artist.

The best ones give you enough to feel connected, but not so much that the whole thing becomes ordinary.

Amber understands that balance. You can hear it in the way she talks about developing artists. The goal is not to expose every part of the person. It’s to make the right parts clearer.

Sometimes the job of a manager or executive is not to make the artist more available.

Sometimes it’s to protect the thing that makes people lean in.

Let some things breathe.

Let fans wonder a little.

Let the work do some of the talking.

Competitiveness gets a bad reputation because people confuse it with insecurity.

That’s not what I mean.

I’m talking about standards.

Caring enough to be great when average would be easier.

Amber has that. You can hear it in how she talks. She’s not sitting around complaining about how the business changed. She’s testing things. Trying platforms. Learning tools. Watching how fans behave. Asking what might actually help the artist instead of just repeating what used to work.

That matters now.

Artists don’t have the luxury of being passive.

Managers really don’t.

There are too many tools, too many examples, and too many ways to reach people directly for anyone to sit around waiting to be saved.

And yes, it’s a lot.

Content is a lot. Touring is a lot. Rollouts are a lot. Community is a lot. Branding is a lot. Learning new platforms is annoying. Having to understand the art and the business at the same time is exhausting.

I get it.

Still, that’s the game.

The competitive artist learns.

The competitive manager adds value.

The competitive executive asks better questions.

And the competitive team doesn’t just chase what is already working for somebody else. They figure out what is true about their artist, then build around that with discipline.

A lot of people want the look of a great artist career.

Fewer people want the responsibility of building one.

Branding is not what you add after the music.

It’s the meaning around the music.

It helps people understand who the artist is, why they exist, what world they’re building, and why anyone should care enough to stay.

That’s what Amber Grimes really got into during this episode.

The best artist brands are not invented from scratch in meeting rooms. They come from the artist. From the truth. From the story. From the community. From the small details that keep showing up until people finally understand what they’re looking at.

The team’s job is to help make it clear.

Not fake.

Clear.

That’s how artist brands are built.

Not overnight. Not from one viral moment. Not because somebody changed their hair color and the deck looked clean.

It happens when you know who the artist is, what they’re trying to say, why it matters, and how to keep proving it over time.

Watch Episode 74 with Amber Grimes LIVE NOW

Bio

I’m Mauricio Ruiz, the host and creator of The Manager’s Playbook podcast, dedicated to demystifying the world of music management, and Founder/CEO of 8 Til Faint, an Artist Management company with over 5 billion audio streams worldwide. Our past and current clients include Grammy nominated, Juno Award winning multi-instrumentalist and singer/songwriter Jessie Reyez, Skratch Bastid and more.

I am also the Co-Founder of Mad Ruk Entertainment, a content agency with over 3 billion long form video streams worldwide. Our client list includes The Weeknd, Eminem, and Celine Dion, along with renowned brands like Nike, Pernod Ricard and the NBA.

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