He’s seen the band several times, and he was anxious for me to experience my first live show. I wasn’t as excited, but I agreed to go along. I don’t dislike Metallica, and even though I wouldn’t classify myself as a hardcore fan, I can always appreciate the craft of music–even if the genre isn’t totally my thing.

We settled into our seats next to another fan who could be classified as hardcore. He admitted that this was his 21st Metallica concert. Seriously? I’d guess he was in his early thirties, so I was surprised he could squeeze that many concerts into his relatively short lifetime. Then I marveled at his loyalty.

My thoughts were interrupted with a sound check that shook my pant legs. Impressive and frightening at the same time.

With the decibel level set to extreme, Metallica took the stage. They played lots of songs–a few that I recognized, many that I didn’t. Looking around the crowd, those of us who weren’t pumping our fists for the duration of the show were texting, updating Facebook status, or trying to capture the experience through photos or videos shot with our mobile phones. We were also outnumbered ten to one.

By this time I was over the initial shock of the volume, so I started thinking again. How do you generate so much loyalty that you can wrangle up 12,000 or so people into a single venue in any major city around the world and get them so energized that they’d stand in the same spot for two hours, pumping their fists to your music? I was impressed.

Michele turned off the audio in this clip for a couple reasons. First, she didn’t think her iPhone could properly process the volume. Second, the fans’ enthusiasm was more interesting than the music being played.

I guess I never really considered bands as brands until that moment. That’s probably a good thing for the many musicians out there. You might want to be noticed for your music first, right?

After the show, I talked with Chad about my musings and asked him what he admired most about Metallica. He went on to say that the band knows exactly who they are, that for years they rarely promoted themselves through the mainstream channels, but gained notoriety through their live shows. And they believed that if their fans were willing to pay to see them, then those fans deserved the band’s best effort every night. Their sound has evolved over the years, but Metallica’s core values are still the same: to rock louder, faster, and harder than everybody else.

Sounds like everything that a successful brand would do. Believe in the brand. Define a focused value proposition. Design for your customers and support them along the way. Reinvent yourself, while staying true to your original promise.

I started digging around to see if Metallica partnered with any design consultancies that we might know about. Several bands take pride in producing their own album covers or working with freelancers, so I wasn’t sure I’d find much. As it turns out, Metallica worked with the notable Turner Duckworth to revive their original logo and design their most recent album, Death Magnetic. More digging turned up a great interview with David Turner and Bruce Duckworth, in which the designers spoke about bands having a better understanding of branding than most companies–particularly Metallica, who has been successfully managing its brand over three decades. Reinventing themselves. Loving and believing in themselves. The whole bit. I felt validated.

I wonder if companies were to model themselves after successful bands, would they reconsider the way they think of themselves? Be more loyal to their customers? Love themselves more?

Recently I exchanged emails with one client who has engaged us to redesign their logo, but started to hedge just before finalizing the work. They asked if I could run down the opportunities and risks of changing the logo as I perceive them. I thought I would share my (edited) response here. It applies to anyone looking to evolve their identity.

Changing the graphic identity of any company is always a big step. Companies often get very excited about these efforts right until someone asks: “Do we have to repaint the trucks?” or “How much is that sign going to cost?” That’s about the time they get cold feet. If you find yourself at that point, ask yourself: How serious am I about it? Is it really a step my company is willing to take?

If you prescribe transformative changes and commit to implementing them, if conditions spell opportunity for you to gain market share, then perhaps now is the time to change your logo.

Is it absolutely necessary for your survival? Perhaps not. Is it the best way to signal a change? Absolutely. So the question may be: How committed are you to transforming your brand and signaling that change your stakeholders and customers? If there is not a broader commitment to change, then don’t change the logo. If there is, I can’t imagine not changing it.

If you’re contemplating such a change, you may already be in it. Are you embarking on new initiatives or strategies? Is it a new day in your market? Does your logo symbolize the best of what your company offers? Is your current logo becoming more or less valuable with age?

A new logo is the best way to signal to all stakeholders that your company is doing something different: You have been busy, you are worth another look, you mean something different today. Or, if your customer is new or never took notice in the first place, perhaps they will now.

Changing logos isn’t as scary as it used to be. It shouldn’t be a regular affair, but companies who deal in customer perception (which is to say, all companies with an eye toward the future) evolve their identities regularly. Customers are used to this.

It’s a big investment in your future, in terms of both time and money. But you’re going to be investing anyway – it’s just a matter of how. Invest in the current course, or in a direction that suggests a new future. It’s a tough time in the market for everyone, but it spells opportunity for someone.

People fear change, but to evolve is to change. Not everyone will agree at first. In fact, it’s practically guaranteed that someone won’t like any new direction. But in my experience, the best people will support progressive steps. It can take time, but good ideas generally win. What’s common practice today was new at one time.

Leaders lead. Have the courage of your convictions to confidently take a bold step.

Case in point: my grandma and the chain letter.

Let me start by saying that I am not a fan of chain letters. Under normal circumstances I find them to be a time suck, full of empty promises. But the chain letter that landed in my home mailbox was from my husband’s dear Aunt Susan, and I was flattered that she was thinking of me. I’m also a sucker for snail mail. Besides, this chain letter promised several recipes in return for my time, with little threat of consequences for breaking the chain.

The letter sat on our kitchen counter for days because I simply didn’t have time for it. But I felt too guilty to throw it away, so I finally did it. I made my copies and found my favorite recipe to share, not really caring whether I received anything in return.

Not unlike Aunt Susan, I sent the letters out to family members, a thoughtful gesture to remind them that I haven’t forgotten about them. I even carefully selected those whom I knew were cooks. My grandma was on the list.

Days later, I received this voice mail.

I had to laugh out loud as I listened to her lament, but the message was one part comedy, one part failure. Of course I began to regret the undue stress I had put on my grandma. I also realized that I had flunked the knowing-your-customer portion of this particular engagement – not to mention knowing my customers’ customer.

Why did I think than an 84-year-old would be interested in a chain letter? She’s still cooking, yes, but her friends are just as old as she is, if not older, and they just don’t cook. They just don’t. Plus, she’s played the chain game before. You heard the woman. She only got two dishtowels!

I’ve since spoken to my grandma and apologized for sending the letter in the first place, and for causing her to worry about breaking my chain. In reality, I’m the one who broke the chain. I broke it when I made the decision to send out those dang letters to quell a guilty feeling, with little regard for my “customers.”

So it’s OK, Grandma. Nobody wants to be the one to break the chain. But this one’s not on you.