campaign proposal // february 2026
tenille townes
from the album the acrobat
prepared by brian kaplan
Every single one of them could use a little more love.
And somewhere deep down, they already know it. They just need someone to say it out loud.
this is who the song is for.
this is who the campaign is for.
everyone.
Most songs tell you what love is. This one does something harder. It shows you what love would never do. And in that space between the words, you see your own life.
A kid getting bullied hears "love wouldn't make you feel small" and it's their story.
A veteran hears "love wouldn't pick up a gun" and it hits somewhere different but just as real.
A single mom hears "love always gives us a choice" and thinks about her teenager.
One song. A thousand meanings. That's the thing about truth. It finds you where you are.
And here's what matters most: this is not a political song. It's not a statement. It's not picking a side. It's about a kid who needs someone to notice him. A teacher running on empty. A couple trying to hold it together. A nurse on hour fourteen. It's about every single person who is hurting right now and just needs to feel like somebody gives a damn. That's it. That's the whole thing. And that's why it works for everyone.
love wouldn't pick up a gun.
#alittlemorelovelove wouldn't hurt anyone.
#alittlemorelovelove wouldn't silence your voice.
#alittlemorelovelove wouldn't make you feel small.
#alittlemoreloveIn August 2024, Tenille Townes walked away from Sony Music Nashville after seven years. No goodbye tour. No public drama. She just left. Then she went into a room and made The Acrobat by herself. Wrote it. Produced it. Played every instrument. Mixed it. No safety net. No machine behind her. Just the songs and the stubborn belief that being honest matters more than being polished.
I built that campaign. A Tim McGraw song became a bestselling book, a graduation anthem, something that went way beyond country music and lived in people's everyday lives.
In 2026, the world doesn't need to be told how to live. People are exhausted. Divided. Stretched thin. What they need is someone to say out loud the thing everyone's already feeling.
we could use a little more of that love around here.
The difference isn't just the message. It's the messenger. Not an icon handing down wisdom from a stage. A woman standing in the middle of the mess, saying the quiet part out loud.
This isn't a traditional radio campaign. There's no label push behind it. This is a moment-to-movement engine built for how things actually break through in 2026. Through raw performances that make people stop scrolling. Through authenticity you can't fake. Through communities that feel like the song belongs to them.
Before anyone knows it's a song, the words go out as standalone truths. Black cards. White text. No artist name. No branding. Just the words.
Seeded to teachers, counselors, nurses, youth pastors. Not music influencers. People who live inside the feeling this song is about. They share the words because they believe them, not because they're selling anything.
After 10 days, Tenille posts a video. She's sitting on the floor of the room where she recorded the album. She picks up her guitar. She plays.
The mystery gives media a story. The honesty gives people a song.
love doesn't draw a line or divide.
#alittlemorelove
50 handwritten notes. real people. personal voice memos.
No performance footage. No actors. No story arc. Just a single continuous morning in a single small town, and in each frame, one quiet act of love that most people would walk right past. Real people. Real places. Credits list every person by first name.
concept stills // final video filmed with real people on location
Every one of these is filmed at the highest quality possible. Every one is designed for maximum emotional impact. You don't know which match lights the fire. So you strike six.
the reveal performance
Tenille in the room where she recorded the album. She talks about what this song means to her. Why she wrote it. The people she was thinking about. Then she picks up the guitar and plays. One camera. One take. No cuts.
tiny desk concert
The single highest-value performance spot for an independent artist in 2026. An acoustic writer who plays every instrument, with a song the world needs to hear. Perfect fit.
the guest moment
The right guest slot on the right tour. 15,000 people singing the chorus for the first time. One phone video from the crowd can change everything. This opportunity should be actively pursued.
calgary philharmonic
A woman who made an album completely alone, performing it with 60 musicians. The contrast is cinematic. Already booked for April 23 and 25.
the school visit
She asks the kids where they see love. They tell her. Then she plays. Film the kids' faces. Nothing online performs like real, unmanufactured emotion from a child.
guerrilla acoustics
A homeless shelter. A hospital break room. A fire station after a long shift. She shows up and plays one song. For them, not for a camera. But the camera is there.
The lyric says love "waits in unassuming places." That becomes the heartbeat of everything. An ongoing practice of noticing the quiet, almost-invisible acts of love that happen around us every day.
Not a campaign hashtag. An actual practice.
Tenille models it on her Substack. Fans share their own stories. The best ones get featured every Friday. Teachers use the lyrics as classroom prompts. Counselors tape them to office doors. Churches play the song on Sundays. Parents text the lyrics to their kids.
And the team is actively out there finding stories that already exist. The internet is full of them every single day. A video of a stranger helping someone on the side of the road. A news story about a community rallying around a family. A post about a kid standing up for another kid. We find those stories, share them, and connect them back to the music. The song becomes the soundtrack to the love that's already happening.
Every story creates content. Every share creates a new listener. And every listener becomes part of something that belongs to all of us.
"the barista who wrote 'you've got this' on my cup when i clearly had been crying. i still have the cup."
"my neighbor mowed my lawn without asking when she saw me come home with a hospital bracelet. she never mentioned it."
"a stranger at the airport sat next to my son having a meltdown and just started quietly reading a book out loud until he calmed down."
"love doesn't leave anyone behind."
When Tenille was fifteen years old, she started a foundation called Big Hearts for Big Kids. Not because someone told her to. Not because it looked good on a press release. Because she saw kids who didn't have anywhere to go at night and she couldn't not do something about it.
Thirteen years later. Over $3 million raised. And the work keeps going.
The song campaign doesn't just mention the foundation. It feeds it. Every stream, every share, every "a little more love" moment connects back to real impact for real kids who are sleeping on real park benches tonight.
This isn't cause marketing. This is who she's been since she was a teenager.
the unbranded ignition
Lyric cards seeded to real people. "Unassuming places" stories begin on Substack. Creator targets identified and briefed. Landing page goes live. Podcast booking starts.
the reveal + single release
Reveal performance filmed and posted. Single drops on all platforms. "Behind The Acrobat" series starts rolling. 50 handwritten notes mailed to people who shared the cards.
performance + video
Music video drops. Session performances filmed for KEXP, Paste, Mahogany. Canadian media tour. Podcast appearances start airing.
album release // the acrobat // april 10
The single's momentum feeds directly into the album. Big Hearts activation launches with the record. Album press cycle begins. Community stories are flowing daily at this point.
the orchestral moment
Calgary Philharmonic shows on April 23 and 25. Professionally filmed. Short film cut from the footage. School visit filmed that same week. The content machine is running.
amplify
Session videos release on a rolling basis. Tiny Desk airs if accepted. Podcast appearances continue. Sync agent actively pitching for film and TV. Fan stories featured weekly. Impact reports go public.
sustain
Festival season. CCMA campaign. Sync placements landing. The community is self-sustaining. Every new moment feeds the infrastructure that already exists.
No label budget. No seven-figure radio spend. Every dollar gets measured against one question: does this spread the message further?
The biggest line item is filming the Calgary Philharmonic shows, because that content works for years. Everything else is lean, sharp, and high-return.
And honestly, the campaign's most powerful activities are free: Substack stories, fan-generated content, podcast appearances, session performances, school visits, social media, people sharing these lyrics because they believe them.
| line item | |
|---|---|
| music video ("one morning") | |
| reveal performance video | |
| calgary philharmonic filming | |
| "behind the acrobat" series | |
| canadian radio promotion | |
| selective US radio | |
| digital advertising | |
| PR retainer | |
| sync agent retainer | |
| creator seeding + community | |
| internet story curation + sharing |
BASE CASE
5-10M streams.
600-700K monthly listeners.
Strong Canadian performance.
Album charts top 30-40 country.
New audience grows 20-30%.
TARGET CASE
15-25M streams.
1-2M monthly listeners.
Crosses to Americana.
Major sync placement.
Grammy consideration.
MOONSHOT
50-100M+ streams.
3-5M monthly listeners.
AC radio crossover.
Cultural adoption.
Graduation anthem.
Even at the base case, this campaign grows her audience by 30%, deepens her community, and builds the infrastructure for her next decade. The moonshot? That's what happens when the right song meets the right moment and someone engineers the connection the right way.
Ten years ago, I took a Tim McGraw song and turned it into something that lived way beyond country radio. A bestselling book. A graduation anthem. A cultural moment that people still carry with them.
"We Could Use A Little More" has that same thing. The same simplicity. The same gut-punch. The same ability to make a stranger tear up in a grocery store parking lot.
But the world's different now. And so is the playbook. This campaign isn't "Humble and Kind 2.0." It's built from the ground up for who Tenille is, what she has, and how things actually break through today.
The instincts are the same. The execution matches the artist.
Tenille doesn't need a machine. She needs the right match dropped in the right place at the right time.
This is how we strike it.
just a little more love.
for the kid on the bench.
for the teacher who stays late.
for the couple on the kitchen floor.
for every single one of us.
tenille townes // "we could use a little more"
brian kaplan
campaign strategy + creative direction
prepared february 2026 // confidential