"King's Road."
That's the title Alice chose for her video, kicking off a journey to document a day in the life of the King for a Day band during what might just be their "last shot" at a roadside street performance tour. Through her lens, she captures the stories both on and off the stage, inside and outside the band.
But promotion in the internet age? That's a whole different beast.
Relying on sheer numbers alone won't cut it. Pumping out content might give you a baseline update frequency, but getting your work actually seen? That's another story entirely—a story that demands strategy, planning, and some serious promotion effort.
Let's be real: in the vast ocean of video platforms, thousands upon thousands of clips flood in every day, and plenty of them are genuinely great. Without a clear plan or an engaging hook, standing out and getting noticed is pretty much a pipe dream.
Sure, luck might strike once in a while, sending a video viral overnight. But if there's no follow-up, no understanding of why it blew up, or no strategy to keep the momentum going, that "overnight fame" bubble bursts fast. Before you know it, you're back to drowning in the sea of content.
Alice handles the filming and uploading, and every video carries her unique touch. You can really see her talent and potential as a director shining through—that's why she loves documenting the band's daily grind. But figuring out how to get those videos in front of an audience? That's not exactly her strong suit.
The band's video views have been stuck in the double digits, with breaking into triple digits feeling like climbing a mountain. Ollie even jokes about it: "At least half of these views are probably us watching ourselves. We're our own organic farm band, boosting our own stats."
Still, no matter what, it's a memory worth keeping. As Cliff puts it, "Even if this all ends, we'll have something to show for it—something to brag about to our kids someday. 'Your dad was pretty cool back in the day.'"
Here's the thing about the age of video sharing, though: "going viral" is real. Some cases follow a pattern you can pin down; others don't. Randomness and flukes are on the rise, which is part of what's driven the evolution of algorithms.
Keep posting, keep uploading, keep creating—it's a clunky method in the internet's sifting chaos, but it can get you noticed, at least a little. There's some luck and chance baked into it, like how Justin Bieber popped up out of nowhere in the most unexpected way.
Two weeks ago, a Christian pastor in Seattle stumbled across a video on YouTube: Ronan belting out "Chasing the Light" from atop a wooden table.
The pastor thought the lyrics and vibe were perfect for a sermon, so he recommended it to his congregation during Sunday service. Next thing you know, the video's views and likes spiked like crazy, jumping to four digits in just three days.
Alice noticed the weird surge and told the band. Everyone got hyped, but then they saw the comments—people praising God, saying Ronan had felt the Lord's calling. Ronan was totally baffled, with no clue what was going on.
"So, should we be shocked or thrilled about this?"
Pretty soon, like most things in the internet age, the situation veered off its original path—and it turned out "thrilled" was the right call.
With the rising views and likes, more people started stumbling across the video. It shot past six digits, hitting 190,000 plays in just two weeks, inching toward 200,000. Even the other videos on the band's account got a boost, finally shaking off the double-digit curse and climbing toward four figures.
You don't really get how explosive the internet can be until you live it. There's this faint, mysterious vibe to it all.
Of course, 190,000 views on a platform where big hits rack up millions or tens of millions? It's a drop in the bucket—barely worth mentioning. It's not "viral," not even a "mini-hit." At best, it's a brief blip on the radar.
A fleeting second.
But that tiny second still brought some unexpected perks.
Take the two girls standing in front of them now.
It started with the buzz around "Chasing the Light." A tiny fraction of viewers noticed that King for a Day was performing along Route 66, still out there on the road, living this journey. Naturally, curiosity sparked.
Out of a thousand—or ten thousand—people, maybe one decides to break through the screen's dimensional wall, ditch the computer or phone, and show up in person to catch the band live on the street. Maybe they're not even there for the music—maybe they just want to see a real-life "wandering indie band trekking the highways."
Or maybe it's something else entirely.
Either way, the stop before Las Vegas was Salt Lake City. While the band played on the street, they first ran into someone who recognized Ronan from the crowd. Then, they met a "fan" who'd sought them out on purpose.
Calling her a "fan" might be a stretch—she was mostly just curious. Still, getting recognized at all was a thrill for the band, a little reward beyond the street gigs that lifted everyone's spirits.
And now, Las Vegas.
Today, they're facing their second group of fans who tracked them down. The girls' eyes sparkle with eager curiosity, like characters from The Purple Rose of Cairo stepping through the fourth wall. They're staring intently into Ronan's eyes, searching for some glimmer of something.
Even if they're not die-hard fans, Ronan's grateful. They took the time to come find them—that's already a big deal.
"Hey, I'm Ronan," he says with a friendly wave.
The two girls are visibly young and nervous, their cheeks flushed red from excitement and the heat, like the slow-fading sunset on the horizon. They're so worked up they can't even speak or return his greeting, just sneaking glances at the other band members out of the corners of their eyes.
Ronan hesitates. Should he introduce the rest of the band? But… they need to pack up their gear soon, or they'll run out of time before the TV crew shows up.
So, what now?
Street performances are like that—full of fresh surprises at every turn.