I’ve received one of the best leadership advice from someone who wasn’t even a leader — a music producer.

25 years ago, I was playing in a band, thinking mostly about making an album. Leadership was the last thing on my mind. One night, after our rehearsal, this man said something that stuck with me ever since. 

My ego wouldn't let me fully understand it back then. But years later, when I found myself sitting in an office - exhausted, overworked, trying to hold everything together as a young manager - those same words came back to me. And suddenly, they made perfect sense.

What most new managers get wrong?

I'll take myself as an example. 

In my early days in leadership, I tried to be one.
Fast. Polished. Relentless.
The Ferrari.

And for almost four years, it worked. So I thought.
I was overextended. Burned out.
I was working hard, but not leading well.

It took a certain memory to finally wake me up.

What happened on that rehearsal?

We were four students in a basement room; dim light, cables everywhere, stale air thick with adrenaline. 

That evening, a well-known producer (a guy whose work was nominated for an MTV Award) agreed to check out our band. For us, that was huge.

We were nervous but ready.
He came in, smiled briefly, and said:
“Play me your best song.”

So we did. Full throttle, hearts racing.

He listened with a poker face. Not a single movement. Three and a half minutes of silence from his side, except for the music echoing off the basement walls.

Then: “Play it again.”

We played again. Same intensity.
And again, no expression.
Then again. And again.

By the fourth time, I started sweating more from uncertainty than effort.

Finally, he stood up, walked to my drum kit, and stuck his head into the bass drum. “Your tension’s off,” he said. “Adjust these two lugs.”

Then he turned to the guitarist: “You’re out of tune and simplify the verse riff.”
To the bassist: “You’re hitting strings with your nails. Don’t. And lose the staccato in verse 3.”
To the singer: “You’re swallowing words. Articulate.”

He paused. “And all of you: slower. Cut 10 BPMs. Let it groove.”

He rearranged small parts, added two tiny breaks, adjusted dynamics. It wasn’t a rewrite, just finesse. But when we played again, it sounded like a different band.

I remember the grins on our faces. We finally grooved.

Then he said:
“When I walked in, you were four Ferraris racing each other. But the band needs to be the Ferrari.”

That opened my eyes. 

Why does this problem matter for new managers and their teams?

Years later, when I stepped into leadership, that line came back to me. But I didn’t get it right away.

For years, I still tried to be the Ferrari.
To perform. To outwork. To prove.
I thought the best way to lead was to be the best performer in the room.

Working long hours, micromanaging details, trying to control everything, I was constantly racing. The results came, but so did stress, mistakes, and eventually burnout.

I was winning short sprints, but the team wasn’t moving faster.

How can new managers solve this challenge?

At some point, I realized: I wasn’t the center anymore.
The team was.

It’s like when you become a parent.
Before the baby arrives, life revolves around you.
Afterward — your sleep, your time, your priorities — all orbit around someone else.

Leadership is the same shift.
It’s no longer about your performance; it’s about the team’s performance.

That switch changes everything:

• You stop asking, “How can I shine?”

• You start asking, “How can we perform together?”

• You begin letting go of ego. You accept that you don’t have all the answers.
• You surround yourself with people who are better than you in specific areas.
• You create conditions; trust, clarity, rhythm -  wher the team can become the Ferrari.

What concrete steps help make that shift?

1. Redefine success
Stop measuring yourself by your own output. Measure yourself by the team’s growth and consistency. If the team delivers without you being there, you’ve succeeded.

2. Let go of control
Delegation isn’t about dumping tasks. It’s about leverage and transferring ownership. Yes, quality might drop at first. That’s fine. You’re trading short-term "perfection" for long-term performance.

3. Build clarity before speed
In my HOUSE^TM model, clarity is the foundation. Because without it, you can’t focus your actions or communicate effectively. A Ferrari needs a clean track, not chaos.

4. Care & Dare
Care enough to know your people. Dare enough to challenge them. Combine empathy and standards. That’s how you align individuals into one engine.

5. Coach, don’t compete
Your job isn’t to prove you’re the best driver. It’s to tune the car. Step back, listen, adjust. Just like that producer did in our basement. He didn't show us how to play. He made us play according to his vision. 

What does this look like in practice?

Fast-forward a few years.
One of my proudest moments wasn’t closing a deal or hitting a record KPI. It was taking three weeks off and knowing everything would run smoothly.

Deadlines met. Standards held. No chaos.

That’s when I knew: the team had become the Ferrari.

Because when your team performs seamlessly without you, that’s real leadership. That’s the groove.

What does the story of PSG football club have to do with leadership?

If you’re a football fan, you’ve seen this play out on the biggest stage.

For years, Paris Saint-Germain had a dream to conquer The Champions League. Remember when they had Mbappé, Neymar, and Messi up front, the three Ferraris?
But despite all that horsepower, they never lifted the Champions League trophy together.

Fast forward to this year: PSG finally won it. With none of those names on the team.

What are the key takeaways for first-time leaders?

• Stop racing alone. Synchronize the race.

• Build clarity before speed.

• Let go of ego. Your team’s success is your success.

• Lead through rhythm: care deeply, dare boldly.

• When the team becomes the Ferrari, you can really enjoy the ride.

FAQ

How do I know if I’m still trying to be the Ferrari?
If you’re exhausted, controlling every detail, and your team waits for you before acting — you’re still racing solo.

What’s the hardest part of the transition?
Letting go of being the performer, especially being the best performer. It hurts the ego but frees the leader.

How do I build trust fast?
Start small. Find out what matters to them most. Keep promises. Be transparent about what you know — and what you don’t.

Can leadership be learned?
Absolutely. Talent helps, but it’s a skill. And like music, it needs rhythm, practice, and feedback.

Final thought

When you get it right — when your people move as one, when your absence doesn’t stop progress — leadership becomes pure joy.

That’s when you realize:
You don’t need to be the Ferrari.
You just need to build one.