#capsulefm

Pro-tips: - Make sure you're on super stable wifi when you download the app. - Change your name by entering the settings menu, accessed by swiping right and then pressing the settings icon in the top right corner. - Activate both English and Norwegian in your settings menu.

Berlin is great because there is still enough space to be able to work in strong and spacious offices like our new ones that we share with Lateral. This space happens to be a former chocolate factory, so we're kind of feeling the delicious nourishment in the form of serenity already.

It was a few dark weeks. And not in a strained, metaphoric sense as implied. No, it was literally dark. The daylight hid itself - or - more likely, I chose not to see the daylight. We were swaddled in a damp cloth much like those old brown canvas bags that they use to capture dangerous, venomous snakes in as they rattle around trying to bite and steal their last moment of light. But this is all too dramatic. What we were doing was working and for once in my life, work is like a sunshine-rayed, hot-skipping joy which is so saturated with delightful spectrums neon wild of color that I am actually rethinking the start of this paragraph…

To get to the point: We had chosen to hide as we were preparing for Investor Demo Day. The day where we can introduce ourselves to investors, mentors and start-ups and romance them with our vision, achievements and most importantly: proclaim to be profitable.

Things had turned on their heads about a week prior to Demo Day. I was anticipating a pretty cool film which was going to be shot by my ultra talented (you know that kind of talent which is not only inspiring, but simultaneously makes you want to drop everything you ever aspired to become and work in finance just to save yourself from wasting time with your delusional creative pursuits) friend, Sam Smith in New York. I had stayed up until the dark and foamy post-midnight hours of moisture and stillness to chat with Sam and edit the footage he had sent into a captivating story of a busy professional using his own Capsule to relax from the stresses of daily life. 

There is sometimes an odd pit in my stomach and you feel too embarrassed to present what you invested so much time into for fear of well - either mismatched expectations or because you know that what you're about to present is inherently wrong. The latter was unfortunately the case. 

The film had to be completely redone. It was the concept that was wrong. Capsule.fm is not some kind of an escape from reality - rather a connection to reality. It keeps you informed when you cannot be informed by reading. This was when we learnt to fall in love with the gently wet hours that preceded the first charcoal light. We chose darkness.

Many people have written about those glorious and surreal moments when on stage and have described that tingling-buzz afloat with giddy lightness which allows their mouths and brain to charge into an inspired auto pilot rendition of all of the visions collected in their minds from the prior preparation.

But what happens 10 minutes beforehand? Those where your body comes into a strange alignment with your thoughts and those once jittery nerves pull themselves together in preparation for that fight (or maybe flight - if you're unlucky) response.

The room was dark and the audio was loud. They really wanted to make a show out of it. At NOAH Conference in London many of the speakers were fairly professional and conservative. That was until Seven Ventures took over the stage to present the seven international start-ups that were competing to win €7 million in total prizes in TV media thanks to ProSieben. And ProSieben knows how to entertain. Think blockbuster style thriller music and those dramatic, soothingly deep voices possible only in big budget films.

We were ushered into a quiet area for speakers where we met fellow nerve-riddled presenters who were also preparing to jump on stage. Espen, Capsule.fm's CEO was then hooked up with his lifeline: A headset microphone and clicker to busy his hands while on stage. From here, I was in the prime position to observe the body language and behavior of Espen and the other six CEO's moments before their entrance onto stage. 

There is a period of time, around 2 minutes before you must move onto the stage where your body disengages with rational thought and your mind becomes still. This is reflected in the gentle grasping of the hands by Espen and the soothing forward moving posture towards the front of the chair, feet spread firmly at wide braces and elbows anchored to remain strong and quiet. As your time comes, any nerves either continue to linger and are transformed into a magical surrealism which energetically charges your whole body with belief and inspiration.

I can't say if this was the case when Espen pitched Capsule.fm at the Seven Ventures competition as part of the NOAH Conference, but something went right as the announcement of €1 million in TV Media was awarded to Capsule.fm. How do you feel before speaking on stage?

I am by no means a natural talker, nor am I one of those people who you secretly (or maybe not so secretly) wish would perhaps, eventually just maybe - take a long, solid breath so that they can catch up on the insane pace of the jittery and chaotic rambling that - yes they said that and I didn't quite digest that - but now we have moved on and I am nodding frantically but not so sure I agree with… what did she say… impossible, incoherent, galloping ramble.

Clearly, I am not at all like that and actually occasionally need some slumbering, prodding and sneaky small-talk-incentive style motivation to get me going. I do, however have a lot of experience in killing conversations, so read on and avoid, avoid, avoid (unless you do want to put that voiceaholic to rest).

1. Neutral Politeness

Seems like a pretty basic part of human behavior, right: To passively be in vague favor of an idea or plan. And it is. People seek acceptance and this is all well and good, except when navigating the battlefield of networking and talking. So, she basically just poured out her every heartbeat-quickening idea, which she still isn't sure she sits comfortably with. She was quietly prodding for your feedback as you scanned your talk-fried brain for the next thing to chat about. So, when she paused and looked back at you gently from the corner of her eye, she was wanting a passionate response from you. It wasn't that floppy-handshake style, "oh cool" that you managed to collect from the remaining working neurons in your brain. No. It was a heartfelt, yes! I agree and this is why response, or a sincere disagreement in which you justify slamming her dreams of building the next social network for tea fanatics.

2. Daydreaming

You've got that important email, which should be coming in any minute now and that tweet you wanted to post right on the minute is only 3/4 finished and then there's that photo that wouldn't load up on Instagram due to the twitchy internet. So, you're dramatically checking your i-phone and trying your absolute hardest to maintain eye contact, but that damn phone is magnetic and you break the connection for just one moment as you are mentioned in a tweet and then. It's gone. You've lost trust and away floats that conversation, into the space of failed business ideas.

3. Knowledge suffocation

There's a fine line between being charming and knowledgable and completely bombarding a conversation with superior "in-the-know" information. No one likes being patronised.

2012 was a curious Summer. The weather in Berlin peaked too soon and the excited glory and promises of sunshine that were proposed in May fizzled out into an anti-climatic abortion of hope.

The Summer was a let down, but the guests in our co-working space most certainly were not. And it wasn’t as though they were just renting office space: they actually slept on the couches in the back room of Weserland for a whole month and worked there during the days. There were initially 5 of them and they brought a pristine air of beauty and stealth into the dehydrated walls of the Neukölln base. Initially cautious, the rest of us co-workers curiously watched as they ingested their new home. With health and good genes on their side, we projected that the Swedes could not have been a day older than 23 and much too immature to actually want to work. 

They were founding Linkura, a service which allowed people with diabetes to track their diet and sugar intake and this is what I learned from them:

1. Lose the heirachy.

One thing that especially struck me about the Linkura team was that they would all be equally accountable for what went right. And what went wrong. On the first day that they arrived, they were told that there was a “magic number” for the door. This magic number was actually a phone number which was installed into the roller door by the crafty developers and upon calling the number, would open in a brilliantly futuristic fashion. What may have seemed clear and precise instructions by the landlord were interpreted as a completely different thing for the young team. Scrambling to find a place to finally set up their camp of the next months and lay their travel-confused heads, they began frantically searching for the place to input this magical code number. Hastily lifting and heaving the roller door, they destroyed it together and found their way inside. Upon later talking to the team about it, they confessed that feeling guilty together brought them together as a team because they shared the connection and emotion associated with the mistake.

2. Lose your inhibitions.

We went out together. In Berlin, going out means not doing anything by halves and allowing yourself to fully succumb to the delights and temptations of this untamed city. I would have thought this a dangerous and revealing pastime, wanting to save my alcohol-induced opinionated passion for typography (especially the letter g) for close friends and family only. Losing their inhibitions and sharing their dreams, visions and worst dance moves brought a high level of understanding into the team and built empathy.

3. Lose your expectations.

I chatted to the developer about networking. It felt like such a dirty word to both of us and we discussed just how incredibly stressful it felt to get out and talk about ourselves and our visions. To do our elevator pitch somehow felt a little duplicitous and not because we didn’t believe in what we were doing or talking about, but because we are both natural introverts. After chatting from sometime, we realized that without actually having to do the awkward pitch to each other, we had gained a huge understanding into each others visions and ideas just by opening ourselves up and losing the expectations of how we should act. By clearing the slate and opening our minds, we were able to fully communicate in an honest and effective way without ever having to feel like a slimy american salesman.

Written by Danielle Reid, co-founder and creative director of Capsule.fm Text source: foundinginberlin Photo source: Danielle on EyeEm

The second week of Startupbootcamp Berlin has been a whirlwind of flutter and activity. Here's how it looked from the eyes of Danielle Reid, Co-Founder / VD of Capsule.fm.

Pitch practicing under the beautiful architecture at Webworker in Berlin where the Startupbootcamp teams work.

Having our photo be featured on EyeEm's Blog! We're so excited to be included in a community of talented photographers.

We had surprising and welcome VIP guests at Startupbootcamp Berlin headquarters.

Hard work requires energy and audio.

Got to meet the talents from EyeEm at their ultra cool Mitte office and take part in a focus group.

Had exciting leads in offices near Alexanderplatz where we started to see the lights!

Made great friends with the rest of the teams here at Startupbootcamp. Kit and Phillip from Liquid State showing true team spirit.

Found new ways to be inspired at the office on a Saturday: 2 minutes in the sunshine with good audio.

Networking and learning at the great Geek Girl Meetup at Betahaus.