#sbcberlin

Ladies. Gentlemen. It's over. Oh, but what a ride it was. Be warned: there will be an extreme heart outpouring blog post which will explore my deepest feelings about the Investor Demo Day thanks to Startupbootcamp Berlin. This is what the last week looked like:

This was the location for Demo Day a few days beforehand. These seats would welcome the hottest investors, mentors and startups.

Our Capsule.fm CEO and general rock star: Espen Systad before the event.

Prizgo CEO Charley Casey tells us a story. His voice is so silky smooth and soothing that I would like to recruit him to Capsule.fm...

Pre Investor Demo Day: Energy is high with flutters in the air. Here's team Liquid State and Credport.

Post Demo Day paparazzi 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.

Great news this week! Capsule.fm was selected out of 300 applications as one of 7 start ups to pitch at Seven Ventures as part of NOAH Conference in London! Please vote for Capsule.fm HERE!

The week started by escorting fellow Aussie to the Ausländerbehorde and getting him as interim visa. Not the most inspiring place to spend a Monday morning.

We celebrated and fingerpointed as our fabulous CTO an Co-Founder, Tor arrived back in Berlin! We missed you, Tor!

Got all cuddly and cosy with Startupbootcamp as we realised how many doors they have opened for us.

Had some exciting calls and meetings at Axel Springer. 

Met with our super cool and stylish sound engineer, Andrea Belfi who is making Capsule.fm sound like the hottest shit in town.

More pitch practicing where the ultra cool co-founder and MD of Startupbootcamp, Alex Farcet showed us how to really make a show.

Friday meant more celebrations as we prepare for London!

Starting a company makes me interested in how others started out. I remember my first real job. Well, technically my first job involved making pizza in a family owned restaurant with a liberally salivating boss (health and safety Australia, close your eyes now) who had a temper that was something shockingly slicing that I was secretly hoping that he would delegate the task of pizza cutting to his frailly tender wife who even at my gawky age of 14 was at least a foot shorter than me. No, the first real job I had was in a small branding studio in eastern Melbourne. And by small, I mean in the bottom floor of my bosses house alongside her standard size poodle (and there is a mistake in naming those dogs standard, by standard they actually mean massive). I could never accuse her of being conformist and although perhaps misguided, a soft spot in my curiously emotional heart remains for her.

Major morning task of the day was walking the standard (giant) poodle and by walking, we’re actually taking about dog poo scooping. That was fine, I liked the time in the morning light and that huge poodle was some kind of strange magnet for park conversations about running your own business and the best cuts of dog meat you could buy to enhance coat gloss. 

My boss insisted we sit on those fit balls which although surely miraculous for your back, are a miniature nightmare for those working around standard poodles who liked to sniff crotches. Leo was so forceful that I learnt that skirts were not a viable fashion option. Numerous times his wet muzzle crept so insistently down there that I was caused to roll backward on the now extremely non-ergonomic office “solution” of a ball and grasp desperately at the air, legs spreading upwards towards the ceiling, leaving the both of us (the dog and I) stunned with embarrassment. 

My boss was an interestingly open woman. Complex and sensitive, with something to prove to everyone. She was interested in neurolinguistic programming and insisted that I too undertake the course. I was thrilled and took it on with pleasure. We would sit with clients - all together on sturdy, broad fit-balls and drink coffee with such caution as to steady our balance. I was a designer and listened so intently to every syllable they spoke so that I could decide whether it would be a warm and open brand they would be suited to, or whether it was short, abrupt and spiky.

I took this job very seriously and although I learnt lots of lessons about design and dealing with clients, I think that the best skill that I came away with was learning how to turn potentially embarrassing situations into shared moments of enhanced connection. 

Danielle Reid is Co-Founder of Capsule.fm. Source: Founding In Berlin. 

I have been a bad, bad blogger and in a whirlwind of co-founding duties, have become heavily behind in the magical world of self indulgence. So here we go again. This is what the past week (or even two weeks) has looked like:

We worked on weekends and throughout nights on our presentation for HY Berlin. Saturday night was a blur of 5am film editing and reworking with deep underwater visuals and spell check updates!

The boys from Credport were there on Sunday afternoon too to adjust and practice their pitch.

On Monday, I attended the Investors' Dinner where I had to give a pitch in German in front of many suited men at Ernst & Young.

Ernst & Young have some pretty enviable office views as seen here.

Capsule.fm attended Media Entrepreneurs Day which was a fantastic chance to meet some very inspiring changers in the media world.

We then were ready to jump on stage and pitch at HY Berlin! They like neon pink too.

Espen and I pitched on stage and came second at HY Berlin taking away a trip to Silicon Valley!

Can you imagine a better city in Europe where a startup working in the music space could be? Us neither. Enjoy our 6th week at #SBCBerlin!

Monday starts with the usual relaxed and easy going way Startupbootcamp is training its teams.

Tuesday shows up and we cannot ignore it. 

8 pm sharp: Dillon is tip tapping at Volksbühne. And the frestyl team is in!

Wednesday a morning meeting out of the office brings us in the Berlin fall.

Thursday it's time again to leave the house and feel the vibes of the city. No pictures in this case: this is the first rule of Berghain. Simian Mobile Disco on stage.

Friday we need some fuel to face the weekend: speed dating afternoon. Mentors are in da house!

At 9pm we are ready for the weekend and we realize that what we need to make it to investor day is persistence, patience and just few hours of sleep! 

Written by Emanuela Tumolo, co-founder of frestyl

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