The Business of Survival: Melissa Core-Caballo on Reinventing Music Branding
- Dead Horse Branding
- 2 days ago
- 9 min read

Forget the glossy bios — Melissa Core-Caballo’s story is pure grit. At 21, burned out, grieving, and stranded in Australia with her dream slipping away, a voice and a visa cracked her life wide open. She landed in Nashville with nothing but faith, no safety net, and an unshakable drive to build.
A decade later, she’s the co-founder of Dead Horse Branding — a powerhouse agency working with Universal Music Group, Lionsgate, the Bo Diddley Estate, Tony Brown, Steven Tyler’s Loving Mary, and more. Visa battles, burnout, brutal lessons — Melissa turned chaos into strategy and grief into growth, emerging as a leader of defiance and devotion.
Now, with nearly two decades in Nashville and a brand portfolio that bridges music, fashion, and entertainment, Melissa is proof that the American dream isn’t given — it’s clawed out of the dirt. We sat down with her to talk grit, faith, branding myths, and what it really takes to survive the game when the safety net doesn’t exist.
Moral of the story: 99.99% of the world struggles with rejection, but it’s not about the people who reject you—it’s about how you accept yourself.
You built Dead Horse Branding out of grief, grit, and zero safety nets. What do you say to CEOs who play it safe and call it strategy?
Although Dead Horse Branding was built out of a very deep, gritty, survival-mode place, I don’t think a strategy should be developed under such chaotic circumstances. A strategy requires clear thinking, and if you don’t have that, you need someone to help you achieve it. In our position at the time, we were lucky enough to have two incredible mentors who provided calm within the chaos.
However, what can speed up a strategy and make it bulletproof is grit, grief, loss, and the fact that a safety net does not exist. For me in particular, the more frustrated, disappointed, and challenging everything was, the harder I pushed back.
When that voice told you not to give up, you listened — and everything changed. Was that the moment you became the kind of leader no one could ignore?
I definitely don’t think I’m a leader that no one could ignore, but I am certainly a persistent one. The voice that told me not to give up filled my empty cup, reassured my spiritual connection, and reminded me of my purpose for living. It re‑whipped the fire that had gone out and reassured me that I was on the right path—to keep following my heart and not give up, even when I felt I was at the end of the road. Without that higher power, without God’s intervention, my life that day would have gone in a very different direction.
You’ve worked with everyone from Universal to the Bo Diddley Estate. What’s the one mistake you see music brands make over and over again — and why do they keep getting away with it?
What makes Dead Horse Branding so different is that our team understands both artists and talent and the retail and corporate side of branding. For talent specifically, we merge these two perspectives and treat artists like a proper product and a proper brand—just like any successful corporation would treat their skincare line, eye cream, or moisturizer.
The biggest mistake musicians and artists make is not seeing themselves as a product. They don’t realize that they can be marketed from head to toe, or that their music is actually the marketing driver for the product on the shelf—themselves. They are the brand, the message, and the experience that people want to connect with.
I have had the pleasure of lecturing at private and public universities, colleges, and schools. What I consistently find is that the product, retail, and corporate mindset is rarely included in music and entertainment education. Creative sales and marketing outputs often ignore this essential perspective.
Immigration battles. Burnout. Visa limbo. What’s one truth about building a global business that no one warns you about — especially as a woman?
Building a global or international brand and presence is extremely tough. No one tells you that you have no credit rating in another country, and that it will take time to build one. No one mentions the simple challenges—how hard it can be just to open a bank account or get a driver’s license in a foreign country.
Getting acclimated to a new culture is another hurdle. The things most people grew up with, the communication style, everyday experiences, or familiar landmarks like corner stores, gas stations, schools, and school buses that don’t necessarily translate. What feels nostalgic and familiar to locals can feel completely foreign to an entrepreneur, which can be very lonely and isolating.
Then there are the struggles of visas: not spending enough time in your home country, constantly having to prove yourself, and navigating visa renewals every year. And all of that comes before even attempting to open your LLC.
Sales is sales. Whether I’m selling you a car or an artist, the core techniques don’t change. What differs are the messaging, visuals, and emotions. The seven formulas for selling will always stay the same, no matter the industry.
Faith plays a massive role in your story. In an industry obsessed with control and image, how do you stay spiritually grounded without sounding like a walking TED Talk?
I love this question, and I actually had the privilege of serving on the TEDx committee board for several years in Nashville. I truly appreciate how they select their speakers and choose their messaging themes, it’s a fascinating process.
However, heart and faith will always come first for me. My team and I operate with gut instinct, which to me is your spiritual connection to your higher power—the unseen force that created you and is guiding you through this life. In my belief system, life is just a short walk in the park to your final destination. If I don’t feel that connection, I won’t take it on. It won’t succeed, and it won’t give me anything of value to take away from it.
You can’t put a number on passion. I understand that at some point it becomes a branding thing, I get it. It can also be a sales tactic that works well for your audience. But if you’re a brand that goes against authenticity, it will work in the opposite way. For me, the ego, the image—all of the things that unfortunately must be considered for certain brands, I’m willing to play the game with. But if that person is truly like that day in and day out, when they roll out of bed, then I have no time for it.
There is a level of celebrity that does need to happen for any kind of product to truly take off, but again, it comes back to one question: How does that brand make me move? What are the key things I care about in all of these individual brands that make me want to be associated with them? Branded ego is acceptable; daily ego, I have no time for.
You say storytelling is your power — but you grew up in a space where your voice wasn’t always heard. How did you learn to take up space in rooms that weren’t built for you?
It took me a while to understand that, as much of a vocal person as I am now, it actually comes from a place where I wasn’t vocal enough. Growing up, I didn’t express my feelings, emotions, or turmoil—I buried them. Over time, I added a few additional psychological and emotional layers and turned it all into a ball of determination and forward thinking.
By the time that ball gained the momentum I wanted and I began moving further away from the person I used to be, I could see the discrepancies in my communication style. With certain individuals, I noticed where my communication lacked, especially within my own family unit.
At first, leaving school young and going out on my own to start my organization, I believed that being physically loud and domineering was the way to get where I needed to go. I thought that because I had been quiet and timid in my home setting, I had to be the opposite in the outside world to be heard. And while that approach did get me heard, it didn’t always mean I was being well-received.
Elton John’s keys player, Kim Bullard, put it perfectly one day: “There is a fine line between determination and desperation.” Looking back, I realize I was desperate. Desperate to get out of the situation I was in and desperate to get to where I wanted to go. When you mix that with a very vocal, forceful voice and personality, it can be a lot.
It took me time to refine that voice, to channel that determination so it no longer came across as desperation. Self-awareness and confidence played a big role in that growth. Today, I’m not afraid to stand in any room and clearly express my feelings, concerns, pros, and cons about anything. I feel I’ve truly honed my communication skills to the point where I can have successful, even uncomfortable, conversations and still walk away feeling good about them. That, to me, is a major achievement.
You stepped away from your company to survive the chaos, not to quit. How do you teach younger entrepreneurs that stepping back isn’t failure — it’s strategy?
I had to step away for immigration reasons, and it was incredibly tough. Even from the outside, I continued to build and strengthen our strategy, looking in as an outsider. I’m fortunate to work with my husband, which allowed me to implement many ideas through him, but it was still a very hard couple of years.
Stepping back from a company you’ve poured your heart and soul into, from a team you admire and want to be their megaphone for, yet knowing your face can’t be seen and your voice can’t be heard is a battle in itself. And, just like the first time around, I fought it with everything I had.
When I was finally able to step back into my role and reclaim my title and position, it felt like winning the biggest race of my life. And yes, I believe sometimes you have to take two steps backward to move ten steps forward. In this case, my hand was forced—but I got clever.
That’s why I really branched into the international sectors where I could work. God didn’t make borders and boundaries, so why the bloody hell do we?
Dead Horse Branding bridges music, fashion, business, and entertainment. What’s the biggest myth about “multi-hyphenate” brands that you’re constantly forced to dismantle?
Well, I can answer this in two ways. A lot of people think we do a lot under one roof—and it’s true. We run seven formulas under one roof, which, to this day, I haven’t seen done anywhere else. But the only reason it works is because my husband, our co-founder and I can each handle about three and a half formulas.
If I didn’t have him, I couldn’t run all seven. If he didn’t have me, he couldn’t either. After a decade of running them together, we might be the only two people on the planet who can manage all seven as a team.
That said, when a talent or an organization does a lot of things, it can raise questions mainly about your skill set and the depth of it. That’s where structure becomes everything. It’s about having a clear organizational framework, setting priorities, and communicating them effectively.
Working as one unified front is also a branding technique we use, especially for multi-talented people. And there are a lot of multi-talented people out there. The challenge isn’t the talent; it’s how you channel all that ability into one simple, memorable line that someone can grasp in an eleven-second elevator pitch.
You’ve built a business empire without compromising your identity. Has the industry ever tried to water you down — and what happened when you pushed back?
Thankfully, my husband and I run our own race—building teams, environments, and styles shaped by our own philosophies, thought processes, and goals. I’m not here to compete with anyone; I’m here to collaborate with everyone.
My focus is on doing the absolute best I can, alongside the most insanely creative and beautiful team members, people I consider a chosen family. As long as we’re happy and our clients are happy, that’s a day I can be proud of.
From caravan kid to CEO in Nashville — what’s one thing you’d never put in a press release but that shaped everything you’ve built?
For a long time, I did a lot of things hoping to be seen and heard by a particular family member—my biological father. My mom and he split when I was only about two years old, and she had to take me away from what was already very limited visitation because his girlfriend was physically abusive to me. I spent much of my young teen life building up a resume and collecting accolades, hoping he would notice one day. At 23, I finally found the nerve to fly up to Queensland, knock on his door, and show up unannounced. I was with him for an hour and a half, and he never asked about what I did, what I had been working on, or any of my achievements or accomplishments.
That evening, as I walked away from his house and shut the gate, I realized I had been building a life for the wrong person. From that moment on, it became all about me—and it’s the best decision I ever made.
Moral of the story: 99.99% of the world struggles with rejection, but it’s not about the people who reject you—it’s about how you accept yourself.
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