I’m in a draughty old warehouse just off Brick Lane, wearing a lanyard, sipping on a can of blackberry & açaí-flavoured Tenzing, while Ferne McCann from The Only Way Is Essex leads a ‘breathwork session’ for an audience entirely comprised of chief marketing executives, global account managers, senior creative leads and heads of innovation (EMEA region).
As Ferne implores the crowd to inhale, then exhale, to ‘let all of those toxins out’, the attendees emit an anxious splutter that sounds like a dying monster in a Ray Harryhausen movie. It’s an astonishingly weird scene, but one that may sound familiar to anyone who’s ever dipped their toe into the monied, mortifying world of marketing and advertising conferences.
This is MAD//Fest (or Madfest, if you’d prefer) – an industry networking event that presents itself like a music festival, fusing LinkedIn with Lollapalooza, or your office Slack channel with Art Basel. According to its website, Madfest began when ‘a motley crew of marketers, start-ups, disruptors, tech types and media folk started talking about events over a few beers’. Now seven editions in, Madfest gets bigger and bolder every year, taking over the vast Truman Brewery space and a large chunk of Brick Lane – hosting nearly 12,000 attendees and more than 500 speakers.
Having spent my working life in and around the digital media world, where servicing the delusional demands of multinationals is often the only way to stay afloat, I’d long heard tales of similar events. ‘Symposiums’ and festivals in San Francisco and Geneva where men in headsets shout loudly about how ‘brands are dead’, or ‘brands are god’, or how AI is going to destroy the world (and that’s OK). From friends who work full-time in the business, I’d seen leaked WhatsApp videos of on-stage DJs and Meta execs slamming rare mezcal at afterparties in Ace Hotel suites – glimpses of a rich, embarrassing subculture.
So when Madfest came to town, I had to get involved. Partly to gawp at all the weirdness, but also to glean some insight into the personalities and companies that shape our world. Like many writers, I’ve had to segue into this game; mostly copywriting for brands – a vocation that can be as maddening as it is financially rewarding. As the editorial sector dwindles, many ‘creative’ types subsist by either working directly or indirectly for brands – with marketing and advertising agencies acting as counsel, translator, priest and therapist for their often ridiculous ideas. But increasingly Big Data, influencers and AI are front and centre of many brands’ minds – all of which gave this year’s Madfest a sense of tension and uncertainty.
Still, it remains an industry in good health. According to Statista, ad spending worldwide reached almost $733 billion in 2023, up nearly three percent from the previous year. Half of New York, London and Berlin seem to be fighting for the crumbs off this one table, with entire districts constructed in its wake, and I was about to see all the dreams, designs and terrible mistakes of this paranoid empire.
I arrive on day two of Madfest, and events are in full flow. The agenda is loaded with speeches, panel discussions and presentations, a few as short as ten minutes long. Some of the titles would send a shudder from your tailbone to your teeth: ‘BEING BOLD WITHOUT THE BULLSHIT – HOW TO GET CUT THROUGH WHILST STAYING ON BRAND’, ‘F*CK BEING HUMBLE: BUILD UNAPOLOGETIC CONFIDENCE’ and my personal favourite, ‘HOW TO LOSE YOUR VIRGINITY AT 137 YEARS OLD’ (which apparently relates to the cosmetics company Avon becoming an ‘omnichannel business’).
There are appearances from Eddie Izzard and Dan Snow, as well as executives from Uber and Unilever and Just Eat. The median appearance of the punters appears to be ‘blonde or bald’, accessorised by baseball caps, oversized ASOS blazers and shocking pink lanyards displaying their job titles. There are luxury portaloos, bars handing out tins of Liquid Death and Don Julio Tequila (thank you, Diageo) and later, DJ sets from Brandon Block and various other washed-up circuit acts. It’s an impressive set up, which is just as well, because a day ticket here will set you back £995 (plus another £300 in ‘fees’). When I first told an anonymous ad man I was going to Madfest, he cackled, and mentioned that his company expressed interest in hosting a presentation – they were told it would cost them ten grand to do so.
