
In the world of music creation, it’s easy to mistake activity for impact. A new single here, a new lesson video there, another social post, another DAW session—repeat, rinse, stress.
But amidst the momentum, we too rarely stop to ask the most essential question:
Is this actually creating the change I want to see—or just keeping me busy?
At a recent conference, product strategist Matt LeMay shared a powerful framework for professionals looking to create meaningful business impact. As a composer and percussionist who’s also worked at the intersection of strategy and creativity for decades, I was struck by how directly his insights applied to our musical lives.
We don’t just create music—we create experiences, identity, and transformation. But to do that well, we must become more than creatives. We must become impact-driven artists.
Here’s what that looks like—and why it matters now more than ever.
Rewriting the Metrics of Success
Matt LeMay opened with a provocative question: Are we measuring what truly matters? For product managers, this meant looking past vanity metrics like feature count or dev cycle time. For composers, it means the same thing.
We’ve been conditioned to obsess over surface stats:
- Spotify streams
- Instagram followers
- YouTube views
- DAW project count
But none of these are guaranteed indicators of meaning or momentum.
I used to chase those same numbers. I’d spend days mixing a piece to “perfect” only to upload it and watch the algorithm shrug. Meanwhile, a simple, heartfelt marimba improvisation shared in a live workshop would ignite unexpected conversations, connections, and even a commission.
Metrics matter—but they must be rooted in purpose. Are you growing followers, or building a following? Are you releasing tracks, or releasing emotion? Are you teaching repertoire, or mentoring transformation?
The best results I’ve experienced—musically and professionally—came not from chasing numbers, but from chasing resonance.
Aligning Art with Audience
Matt emphasized aligning product work with larger business objectives. For us, that’s about connecting our creative instincts with our audience’s real-world context.
When I composed Lights Twinkle, I didn’t just want to write a holiday piece. I wanted to evoke the emotional tension of the season: the hustle, the sparkle, the nostalgia. I used polyrhythms and taiko drums not for complexity’s sake, but to mirror that seasonal intensity. The music wasn’t just a composition—it was a reflection of something listeners already felt but hadn’t yet heard expressed.
Earlier in my journey, I missed this mark.
I remember creating a technically sophisticated percussion ensemble piece—polymeters, tempo modulations, hybrid electronics. I was proud of the craft. But the premiere fell flat. Not because the performance was off, but because the piece had no anchor—no human connection. It was brilliant, but not felt.
Since then, I’ve started asking:
- Who is this piece really for?
- What do I want them to feel when they hear it?
- What lasting impression am I giving them?
Alignment isn’t about compromise—it’s about making art that meets people where they are, and then elevates them.
When you hit that alignment, everything changes. Your music gets performed more. Your students become evangelists. Your collaborators bring their audiences with them.
That’s impact.
Strategic Creativity: Composing with Intention
Matt offered practical frameworks for making business impact. Translating them for musicians, here’s how we can be strategic without selling out.
1. Start with Purpose
Before you compose, produce, or post—pause. What do you want to achieve?
- Want to get programmed by more universities? Build a piece with educational touchpoints.
- Want to increase your teaching studio? Write content that shows your teaching philosophy, not just your credentials.
- Want more sync licensing opportunities? Focus your next track on emotional clarity and a genre match for placement.
When I began creating music explicitly for choreographers, my creative process changed. I still composed with passion—but I also listened to what dancers needed: clear timing, evolving mood, emotional space.
The result? Repeat commissions. Stronger collaborations. More exposure.
Your creativity doesn’t shrink when guided by intent—it expands with clarity.
2. Measure What Actually Moves You Forward
Forget the dopamine hit of 1,000 streams if none of those listeners remember your name or story. Instead:
- Did a track lead to a new collaboration?
- Did a parent tell you your teaching method helped their child gain confidence?
- Did your composition get added to a repertoire list?
These are real metrics. Real wins. Real signals that your work is shaping lives, not just filling feeds.
3. Collaborate Beyond the Music Bubble
LeMay talked about collaborating across business departments. For us? It means getting out of the composer silo.
When I began collaborating with choreographers and videographers on multimedia pieces, my music reached new audiences—and my writing evolved. I stopped thinking “score first” and began thinking “experience first.”
Talk to theater directors. Dance teachers. Worship leaders. Social media creatives. Ask what they need. Then create with them.
That’s how you shift from “musician” to creative catalyst.
4. Iterate with Feedback, Not Ego
AI, analytics, and metrics can give us surface signals. But the deepest insights still come from actual conversations with people experiencing your art.
I’ve run live listening sessions with beta mixes. I’ve watched kids in my studio light up—or go blank—at different musical ideas. That real-time feedback has shaped entire compositional decisions.
Yes, protect your artistic vision. But don’t be afraid to adjust if something isn’t landing.
Art doesn’t have to be democratic—but it should be empathetic.
5. Celebrate the Micro-Wins
Impact doesn’t always come in viral moments or commissions. Sometimes it’s:
- A former student quoting your lesson ten years later.
- A flutist texting you after rehearsal: “I loved this part.”
- A stranger tagging you in a post that says: “This track got me through a hard day.”
Those are not footnotes. Those are why we do this.
Write them down. Reflect on them. Let them steer your next decision—not your insecurities.
From Composer to Creative Leader
Matt LeMay’s message to product managers was clear: your value is not in how much you build, but in what your building creates.
As musicians, we are often encouraged to produce endlessly—track after track, project after project. But production without purpose is noise. And we are not in the business of noise.
We are in the business of resonance.
That means stepping into leadership—not just of projects, but of our own narrative. It means crafting with empathy, releasing with clarity, and building careers rooted in purposeful artistry.
So yes, I say lean into strategy. Embrace metrics. Use tools. But never let them replace your musical compass.
You are not just a composer. You are a bridge builder. A memory maker. A meaning shaper. Let your music—and your mindset—reflect that truth.