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The Mistake I Made With My Own Name

Foto do escritor: Claudio Girardi
Claudio Girardi
23 de ago.
5 min de leitura

Let me tell you something only my closest friends know, and the companies I sign contracts with: Claudio Girardi is my stage name. The name on my birth certificate is Claudio Girardi Utishiro. And I already know what just went through your head. Utishiro, what is that, Japanese? Exactly. That is the problem, and it is what I want to talk about.

Early in my career I signed everything as Claudio Utishiro. Every introduction turned into the same scene: the person stopped at the surname, asked where it came from, and I had to explain. It took me about two years to realize that this, however proud I am of my family, was working against me from a personal marketing standpoint. So I dropped it and kept only my middle surname, Girardi. Problem solved. Almost. To this day, at airport immigration, the officer looks at the passport, looks at me, and makes the same face. The difference is that now it is an anecdote, not a career obstacle.

So why open a column with something this small? Because a name is not a detail. A name is the first message you hand the market, before your music, before your work, before anything else. And there are three traps in that choice that I have watched take down good people.

The first is the name that needs explaining. If you have to explain why your band is called what it is called, your message is not clear, and you start the race behind everyone else. That was literally my case.

The second is the name with a hidden meaning. Today, with everyone typing anything into a search bar, picking a name that means something embarrassing in another language, or in your own, is a self inflicted wound. Picture a foreign host trying to announce your band on morning television and stumbling over the word. That interview does not happen.

The third is the most expensive of all, and it is where I want to land: the right to use the name. In Brazil there is a well known band called Jota Quest. They started out as J. Quest, a nod to the Hanna-Barbera cartoon Jonny Quest, from 1964. The rights holders notified Sony Music, the band's label, over unauthorized use of the name. The lawyers figured out the knot was in the "Jonny," and the way out was to become Jota Quest, which kept the reference without touching the trademark. Changing your name halfway through, once you have already built an audience, means changing brands mid race. It costs money, it can turn into litigation, and it throws away years of recognition you sweated for.

That is why I keep repeating a line that annoys a lot of people: registering a name is an investment, not a cost. You are going to carry that name for many years, possibly your whole life. Spending on the legal registration at the very beginning, when nobody knows you yet and it feels like money thrown away, is what guarantees that on the day the name is worth something, it is actually yours and not borrowed.

And here is where I connect this to the house I helped build. When we founded Zooparky, the first piece of homework was not designing a character or writing a song. It was naming and trademark registration, before we even opened the company. That sounds excessive for a studio that was being born out of a conversation. It is not. It is the opposite of the mistake I had made in my own career years earlier. I learned the hard way that creating without protecting is building on sand, so at Zooparky we flipped the order: protect first, create second, and there has never been a doubt about who owns what.

Let me close with the case that sums it all up. In 1997 David Bowie pulled off one of the smartest moves in the industry. Together with banker David Pullman, he issued bonds backed by the royalties of 25 albums and 287 songs recorded before 1990, and raised 55 million dollars in one shot, bought by Prudential, at 7.9 percent a year with an average ten year term. It was the first time anyone had securitized intellectual property rights that way, and others followed, among them James Brown and the Isley Brothers. Bowie used the money to buy back songs that were sitting in the hands of his former manager. Look at what happened there: his work was not only art, it was an asset, with a registered name, an organized catalog and clear title. And an asset, unlike loose talent, is something you can measure, defend and turn into value.

And I will be straight with you instead of selling you an illusion. Years later, when MP3s and piracy sank record sales, Moody's downgraded those bonds, close to junk status. So no, being an asset is not armor against the world changing. But notice something: only people whose work is structured as an asset get a seat at that table. People without one are not even invited.

You do not need to be Bowie to start. You need to understand that the name you pick today, and the registration you do or fail to do, is the foundation of everything that comes after. Pick a name that speaks for itself. And please, register it before you fall in love with it.

A big hug, and good sounds.

Claudio Girardi

Sources and data

Bowie Bonds (1997). Issued in 1997, structured by banker David Pullman and purchased for 55 million dollars by Prudential Insurance Company of America, at 7.9 percent annual interest with an average life of ten years, backed by royalties from 25 albums (287 songs) recorded before 1990. Widely considered the first securitization of intellectual property rights, later followed by catalogs from James Brown, Ashford & Simpson and the Isley Brothers. Years afterward, Moody's downgraded the bonds from A3 to Baa3 amid the sales collapse caused by MP3 piracy.

"How David Bowie Securitized His Royalties and Predicted the Future", Money.com: https://money.com/david-bowie-bond-royalties-securitized/

"25 years since David Bowie sold 'Bowie bonds'", Far Out Magazine: https://faroutmagazine.co.uk/25-years-since-david-bowie-bowie-bonds/

Jota Quest / J. Quest. The band started as J. Quest, referencing the Hanna-Barbera cartoon Jonny Quest (1964). Rights holders notified Sony Music, the band's label, over unauthorized use; the solution was to adopt Jota Quest. Transparency note: one industry account (Whiplash, citing producer Fabra) suggests the story may have carried a marketing component from the manager at the time, though the main sources confirm the rights conflict.

 
 
 
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