Alitu

Colin Gray's journey to Alitu began not with a SaaS vision, but with a WordPress site. In November 2010, working as a learning technologist at the University of Edinburgh, he was tasked with hosting podcasts for courses. When the existing podcast hosting platform failed catastrophically the night before a course launch, Colin built a quick WordPress solution. That hobbyist fix became "The Podcast Host"—an unimaginative name that reflected its utilitarian origins.

By 2010-2012, Colin had grown the hosting business to about 150 podcasts. But he killed it. The support burden was crushing (people asking about gear, compression, equalization, distribution), the prices were commoditized at rock-bottom rates, and—most importantly—it didn't align with what actually excited him. "There was just so much customer support," he told Rob. "I didn't enjoy supporting people through the basic distribution. But I really enjoy supporting people through the creating, the editing." The content side of podcasting was where his passion lay.

From 2012 onward, Colin invested in thepodcasthost.com as a content hub—blog posts, YouTube videos, courses, a podcast. The SEO traffic and email list grew steadily. By 2014-2015, he was running eight businesses simultaneously (a craft beer subscription box with his brother, various content sites), but only thepodcasthost.com was gaining real traction.

By 2016, competition was eating into the education business. Other founders were giving away podcasting courses for free as lead magnets for their SaaS products. Colin needed a moat—something harder to copy than an online course. He considered hosting again, but then realized: the most consistent question from his audience was "How can I make editing easier? How can I stop worrying about compression and EQ and just make it sound good?"

In spring 2016, Colin started building Alitu. He was a non-technical founder bootstrapping with money from thepodcasthost.com revenue. His first hire was a backend developer (five months, $0 on UI, just working prototype). Then came design. Then implementation. The pace felt glacial on paper—27 months from concept to launch in June 2018—but Colin never felt rushed. "I read stories of really successful big companies, and they all talk in years," he said. "That made me slow down and be happy with that slower pace." Crucially, he never went unprofitable.

When Alitu launched in mid-2018, Colin had a huge advantage: thousands of daily visitors, a 5,000-6,000-person email list, and genuine goodwill from years of free content. He expected rapid adoption.

It didn't happen. After six months, Alitu was doing only $3,000 MRR. After a year, $8,000 MRR. "It was tough," Colin admitted. "At one point I thought we could get up to a few hundred [users] at least. That was my aim." The first year was sustained only by income from thepodcasthost.com.

The problem, Colin eventually realized, wasn't the product—it was the mismatch between audience and offer. His content had heavily featured technical topics: gear reviews, recording setups, software comparisons. He'd attracted a community of DIY podcasters who *enjoyed* fiddling with gear and learning compression and EQ. The last people who'd pay $28/month to have editing done for them.

Around the 12-month mark, Colin pivoted his content strategy. He began writing for the audience he *hadn't* reached: non-technical entrepreneurs, solo founders, personal brand builders, and small business owners. These people didn't care about gear—they wanted their podcast to sound professional without the learning curve. Gradually, this new audience built up on his email list. By the end of year one, Alitu was gaining traction with the right customer segment.

The failed interface redesign taught Colin a hard lesson. About 18 months in, he updated the editing screen interface, convinced it would help users (and loving it himself). The outcry was immediate and severe. More than half of users preferred the old method. For weeks, Colin fielded support tickets and debated whether to compromise or revert. "Those are the times I thought about giving up," he said—not because of slow growth, but because of customer friction.

What *did* work: relentless focus on the specific pain point (editing), deep product-founder fit (Colin genuinely loved the creative/editing side), and a content-driven funnel that eventually attracted the right customers. By 18 months post-launch (early 2020), Alitu was at $12,000 MRR.

Then COVID-19 hit. Remote work exploded. Podcasting boomed. Alitu doubled in three months, reaching ~$24,000 MRR by mid-2020. The growth was so fast that it strained his single audio engineer (audio processing is unpredictable; different file types require constant troubleshooting). But Colin resisted the urge to over-hire. "The unpredictability is so high," he said. "I'm definitely leaving wiggle room."

By late 2020, two years after launch, Alitu was doing $45,000 MRR. Colin had hired thoughtfully: a full-time support person (promoted from part-time), a full-time marketer, a community/social marketer, and a second audio developer. He wasn't chasing hypergrowth. "We doubled in three months. But I do not expect to grow that fast. In fact, the growth has already dropped a lot compared to that."

Colin reflected on the path not taken. He could have built hosting (commoditized, requires customer support he doesn't enjoy). He could have built recording software (like Squadcast or Zencaster). Instead, he stayed true to product-founder fit: building a tool that helps creators make podcasts without technical friction, in a category with no direct competitor.

"Editing, production, creating is the stuff that I love," he said. "I really enjoy the uniqueness of Alitu. When we started it, there was nothing else like it on the market. Even now, there's nothing really doing exactly what we do. And I really enjoy that feedback when people get in there and suddenly they can edit in such an easy way and create this vision that they had in their head without all the stress." That mission—not growth metrics—kept him going through the slow year. And it's what sustains him now.