Yes, “Great Things” Really Do “Start in Little Rooms.”
A simple OpEd reflection on Andre 3000’s impromptu statement, shared Sunday night in Outkast’s Rock N Roll Hall of Fame induction acceptance speech.
The 2025 Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony, held Sunday night (November 8) in Los Angeles, celebrated a wide range of artists spanning genres and generations.
This year’s inductees included Outkast, Cyndi Lauper, Soundgarden, The White Stripes, Bad Company, Chubby Checker, and Joe Cocker, while Salt-N-Pepa and Warren Zevon received Musical Influence Awards. Balancing celebration and remembrance, the 2025 ceremony honored artists whose creativity, independence, and cultural influence continue to shape music’s evolution.
But one moment has stood out in particular. And 24 hours later, has circled the internet thousands of times over. Andre 3000’s off-the-cuff acceptance speech, in which he got temporarily overcome by his emotions, featured an impromptu word of wisdom, derived from a hardly-noticeable moment in Jack White’s earlier speech.
Check it out:
“Great things start in little rooms.”
You can watch the full induction of Outkast into the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame, including Donald Glover’s introduction, here. Here’s what Jack White actually said in that referenced moment:
“To the young artists, I wanna to say get your hands dirty and drop the screens, and get out in your garage or your little room, and get obsessed. Get obsessed with something, you know, get passionate. We all want to share in what you might create.”
This struck a chord for Andre 3000 in particular. Rather than using it to echo Jack’s advice to younger generations who might be looking for inspiration, motivation, or simply permission to try new creative things, he used it clearly as a point of personal reflection on his own humble beginnings; realizing in that very moment on stage, perhaps, that his story is both singular and humblingly universal.
As an artist of 25 years, I can tell you this notion is exactly right.
We all start from somewhere, and that place will forever represent what is authentic, and true, and meaningful to you as both an artist and a person. And it’s gravely important to continually check in with that part of yourself if you want to be successful (and happy). Because here’s what happens in little rooms:
A little room gives you permission. Specifically, permission to fail. Because we don’t learn from success, where would you rather fail? In front of 5 people or 5,000?
A little room is a space where limitations, rather than horizons, dictate what’s possible. The only way to really and thoroughly understand and engage with your equipment, your creative process, and your tiny obsessions, is to experience them in settings where your only choice is to use what’s available. Limitations force us to solve our own problems, and we learn so much in these moments.
A little room is a place where you can hide from the world, but never hide from the people or ideas present inside it. In this way, a little room forces confrontation in the safest way possible; confrontations with the unknown, with the “what ifs?” of your creative edges, and with people and ideas that are different from your own.
A little room is the best kind of critic. The intimacy of close proximity spaces, whether live or private rehearsal spaces, teaches young and aspiring artists that if it doesn’t work there, it definitely won’t work in grander spaces. Hone your craft where the risk is lower, and you’ll be forever thankful!
A little room is a place of collaboration, never competition. True artists don’t fight over scraps, they share whatever’s available with whoever needs. This is where you build your network, and build trust, and build a sense of generosity, not against but amongst.
A little room reminds you that you’re in control. On big stages, there’s a stagehand or tech grip for every imaginable thing an artist might need support with, and full teams of people available to your needs. This is a great asset to aspire to, but ceding control is also a choice, and a luxury. Remembering that you can be the designer and producer of your full experience as an artist always traces back to our humble beginnings.
Don’t be ashamed of your little room, be proud. I can’t wait to hear what you create in there.
