Some years ago I was representing the Agency at a dinner marking the 50th anniversary of Haymarket Media Group. A very smart affair in the ballroom of one of the Park Lane hotels, it was hosted by the company’s founder Lord Heseltine.

I was attending alone and didn’t know any of the other guests at my table – which was well located, close to the stage. Before too long, as the wine and conversation flowed, we were all getting along famously.

After dessert was served, Heseltine announced that there would be some entertainment. I hadn’t been expecting this. And so I was particularly thrilled when he invited the legendary songstress Dame Shirley Bassey to join him onstage.

Dressed in a figure-hugging silver gown of sequinned silk, ‘the girl from Tiger Bay’ confidently swayed, shook and shimmered. And with her big-hearted vocal delivery, she launched into one of her signature numbers.

'The minute you walked in the joint,
I could see you were a man of distinction.
A real big spender,
Good looking, so refined.
Say, wouldn't you like to know what's going on in my mind?’

The very definition of glamour, Bassey was instantly in total command of her audience. As she reached the song’s chorus, she directed an elegant arm towards the eponymous Big Spender and pointed precisely.

I shifted a little uncomfortably in my chair and focused on the stage. Yes, it was true: with her radiant smile and alluring gaze, Shirley was looking directly at me.

Blimey.

‘So let me get right to the point.
I don't pop my cork for every man I see.
Hey big spender,
Spend a little time with me.’
'Big Spender’ (C Coleman / D Fields)

On reflection, I imagine there were a lot of people in that ballroom that felt that Shirley was pointing at them. And that is perhaps the key to her appeal. She has a tremendous voice, bewitching style and a luminous personality. But she also sings as if you two are alone; as if you are an audience of one.

I recall reading once that President Bill Clinton’s charisma derives from his ability to make you feel like you are the only two people in the room. Ignoring the crowds milling around him, he grasps your hand, fixes you with a beaming smile and looks you straight in the eye. Regardless of politics or reputation, it’s hard not to be beguiled.

'In the particular is contained the universal.'
James Joyce

There’s a lesson here for all of us in the world of business and brands.

When we address a room, or a meeting, or an audience of any kind, we should always avoid bland generalisations and universal banalities. Rather we should speak as if the conversation is personal, intimate, one-to-one. We should deal in the individual and specific; illustrate and exemplify. Because, as the old marketing aphorism puts it:

'When you try to speak to everyone, you end up speaking to no one.’

At the end of the splendid evening, the tall, rather dapper Heseltine gave a graceful speech in which he recognised many of the people who had helped his business along the way. Amongst others, he singled out his local NatWest bank manager, who had stuck by him in the early days, through tough times. The chap happened to be sitting nearby, and I noticed he was clearly touched. As if in an audience of one.

'I, I who have nothing,
I, I who have no one,
Adore you and want you so.
I'm just a no one, with nothing to give you, but oh
I love you.
You, you buy her diamonds,
Bright, sparkling diamonds.
But believe me, dear, when I say
That she can give you the world,
But she'll never love you the way
I love you.
You can take her any place she wants,
To fancy clubs and restaurants.
But I can only watch you with
My nose pressed up against the window pane.
I, I who have nothing,
I, I who have no one,
Must watch you go dancing by,
Wrapped in the arms of somebody else.
Darling it is I
Who loves you.’
Shirley Bassey, ‘I Who Have Nothing’ (C Donida / G Rapetti / J Leiber / M Stoller)

No. 464