Hillbilly Moon Explosion live: a great night… Well, almost for Everyone

Today was finally the day I’ve been waiting for: seeing Hillbilly Moon Explosion live. I’ve been following them for years on Spotify, worn out their top tracks, and hearing them live was one of those personal wins. Unfortunately, we arrived late. Oh well.

The moment we got there, the vibe was exactly what you want from a real gig. People of all ages, enjoying the music, beers in hand, smiling — that feeling of being exactly where you’re supposed to be. My wife and I, excited like teenagers at their first show.

The performance? Solid, raw, engaging. After years of only hearing them through my headphones, I can say their live sound does not disappoint — quite the opposite. They played a good handful of our favourites: “Queen of Heart”, of course, and the killer “My Love Forevermore”, plus other new tracks I didn’t know but that hit me right away.

Towards the end of the show, my wife had the sweet idea to buy me a gift — a vinyl from their merch table. The girl behind the stand was super nice, she reminded me of the one we chatted with earlier at the bar. I had even confessed to her how much I miss old-school venues like the Face Bar, the real ones, smoky air (sadly, not anymore), loud music in your bones. We laughed about it — those small moments that already make your night.

I asked the girl behind the stand for advice on which record to buy. It was clear they were pushing the latest one — probably means a lot to them. Not sure I’ll love it more than the old stuff, but hey, I trust them.

The signing session begins. First up, Oliver Baroni, smiling, friendly, joking with me about the crappy pen he’s using. He even tried to find a better one, no luck, but I appreciate the effort.

Then comes Emanuela Hutter, on stage she looks tough, but up close she’s incredibly sweet. I tell her of my favourite Switss bands: them and the Bananafish Bones; mixing Switzerland and Germany. She understand the mistake and doesn’t say anything, just smiles and signs the vinyl— with a pen far better than Oliver’s.

Meanwhile, Duncan James and Sylvain Petite were still after the instruments. I walk up to Duncan, politely asking if he could sign the record too. Let’s say enthusiasm isn’t exactly his strong suit.

Sylvain, the drummer, looked kind but shy, glued to his drum kit. I know Oliver and Emanuela from a few videos, but not so much the other two. So I naively — maybe stupidly — ask Duncan, “Is the drummer part of the band?”. I thought maybe he’d call his mate over for me. But Duncan, clearly annoyed, shoots back:

“Did he play in the band?”

I stare at him, confused: “Uh… yeah.”

“Then he’s in the band.” — still in full arrogant mode.

Alright then. Duncan grabs my record as if to help but quickly changes his mind, telling me I have to do it myself. I try getting Sylvain’s attention — not easy — but eventually, he sees me and waves me up.

Just as I’m about to hand him the record, Duncan storms back in, barking at me to get down, clearly in diva mode, telling me I’m not welcome there. Sylvain follows me, confused, asks what happened. I explain, and he can’t apologise enough for his bandmate.

He asks my name, writes a personal dedication on the record, even chats a bit, asking if this was my first time seeing them live. Apart from being an excellent drummer, he’s also a genuinely nice guy — a rare combo these days. Turned out he is not shy, and we chatted about his home town, a place I loved to visit many years ago.

Final verdict? Musically, they’re exceptional. Everyone’s got talent, the sound is tight, the vibe is authentic. Personality-wise, they’re all top-notch…

Except Duncan. He’s not terrible as a guitarist, but he thinks he’s Frank Zappa with the arrogance of Steve Jobs. The problem? Those guys could afford to act like that — even if they shouldn’t have. Duncan? Not so much.

Bottom line: If you get the chance, absolutely go see them live. They’re worth it. But if you want to enjoy your night, co yourself a favour — avoid any interaction with Duncan.

I didn’t forget this is a Customer Success Blog after all. What is the customer success moral from this story?

One bad interaction can poison an otherwise great customer experience, no matter how good your product is.

The Product (the band/show) delivered:
The concert itself, like a product or service, was excellent. The sound, performance, atmosphere — all hit expectations. That’s your baseline in customer success: the product doing what it promises.

Most touchpoints were positive:
Merch table interaction? Friendly. Signing session with the singer? Warm and memorable. Even the drummer, though shy at first, turned out approachable and professional. These are the equivalent of good onboarding, helpful support, and engaging account management.

Single negative moment taints the journey:
Duncan’s arrogance and rudeness represent the classic customer success anti-pattern — a team member (internal or partner) undermining trust, showing ego, creating friction for no reason. For the customer (the fan), it introduced doubt and frustration in what should’ve been a flawless, feel-good experience.

Perception is shaped by people, not just product:
No matter how tight the band is or how good the music sounds (the core product), the experience is also defined by how customers are treated by individuals. This is the same in SaaS, services, or retail. One arrogant consultant, one dismissive support engineer, one unhelpful CSM — it sticks.

Customer Success lesson summary:
Even if your product rocks, arrogance, poor empathy, or friction at human touchpoints will erode loyalty, brand perception, and future advocacy. Talent doesn’t excuse bad behaviour. In Customer Success, one cocky “Duncan” can undo months of good work. Every touchpoint matters. Talent doesn’t justify arrogance. Make humility, care, and consistency in professionalism great again.