Listen to the band:

Entrepreneur, June, 1999 by Sam Hill, Glenn Rifkin

Get face-to-face with customers. The Dead played countless live shows and turned the accepted record industry formula on its ear. Rather than record an album and mount a tour to promote the album while visiting radio stations and schmoozing with disc jockeys, the Dead took the opposite view. They simply played as long and as often as possible in front of live audiences. CEOs willing to spend four or more hours, day after day, with their customers are likely to spawn tremendous customer loyalty and devotion,

Celebrate uncommon sense. What characterized Garcia and his bandmates, Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann, was the uniqueness of their product and their willingness to stick with the product against all conventional industry wisdom.

In essence, the Dead weren't selling music, they were selling a unique, spontaneous experience, a version of lifestyle marketing embodied by Harley-Davidson and Nike. Each concert was a unique event, with the same songs rarely repeated for weeks or even years. While common sense and music industry history dictated otherwise, the Dead never wavered in their commitment to their own long, strange trip.

Loyalty is inspired by strategic decisions that may go against accepted industry business practices but demonstrate respect for the customer. For example, in the 1980s, the Dead decided to buck conventional wisdom and allow fans to tape live performances. In an industry where bootleg records cost artists and record companies profits, such a decision was tantamount to heresy. But like other radical marketers, the Grateful Dead truly respected customers. Jerry Garcia said, "If we're done with the music, you can have it."

The band prevailed upon its fans to follow an honor system. They could keep or trade the tapes with fellow Deadheads, but they could not sell copyrighted material for profit. Hal Kant, the band's lawyer, says they spent a great deal of money tracking down and suing those who wouldn't honor the agreement. But the vast majority of Deadheads stood behind the band. In fact, with the advent of the Internet, a vast virtual community of tapers has emerged, with Deadheads reaching out electronically via hundreds of homespun Web sites to share the experience yet again.

But the tapes were just the beginning. The Dead, with the idiosyncratic nature of its shows, built a layer of mystery into its image. Serious Deadheads kept logs of each show, scribbling on notepads during the concert which songs were performed, in what order, and the quality of the performance. Each nuance, each note that Garcia missed or lyric he forgot, was logged in. Great bands inspire passion that may seem ludicrous to those on the outside. But fanatics, be they motorcycle enthusiasts, pet lovers or rock fans, become important evangelists for the brand. This can be manifested by a tattoo of a corporate logo, a stock investment or a prized tape collection.

The band's uncommon sense also led to sound strategic business decisions. Unlike most rock'n'roll groups, the Dead never asked for big advances from concert promoters. Instead, [the members] took on the upfront risk themselves and received royalties that were double the industry average. This practice proved to be incredibly lucrative for the band in the long run.