Your comments, reviews, and votes really help me out so much and they make me super motivated to keep working on this story!Pat*eon : belamy20
"We Don't Talk Anymore is a masterpiece. After listening to it, we unanimously agreed that this song should be the lead single for your new album." Stringer signaled to the middle-aged man beside him. "Tim, introduce your strategy to Mr. Leon."
Tim wore a gray plaid shirt and black-rimmed glasses, a standard image of a rigid middle-aged man.
He pushed his glasses and took a stack of documents from the assistant. "Regarding your joining Columbia Records, the media is hyping this matter crazily. If we can release an album lead single within this month, we will definitely harvest a huge wave of traffic."
"This month? Is it a bit too early?" Phil interrupted.
It is a basic operation for record companies to release a few lead singles to warm up for the album, but this usually happens at the end of the album production.
With the cheat, although Leon's new album progress is rapid, there are only four songs in total.
"Not early; now is the best time." Tim's serious expression changed slightly, and the corners of his mouth curved up. "Since the media received the news of your joining Columbia Records this week, they have been as happy as a carnival. We can take this opportunity to add fuel to the fire."
His meaning was clear: if there were no ready-made works, it would be fine, but since there is a complete work here, why not use it?
We Don't Talk Anymore has reached the best level in both recording and MV shooting, ready for release at any time.
As the head of the A&R department of Columbia Records, he was originally not interested in the works Leon had already recorded and proposed re-recording several times to Stringer.
On the one hand, it is to maximize the company's interests; more importantly, he is not assured of the production quality of small workshops.
The position of A&R director is an important role in the record company, directly responsible for the singer's performance.
If Stringer is the king of this company, then Tim is the king's sword bearer.
Discovering and signing artists, matching production teams, supervising the recording process, coordinating with other departments, etc., are all his responsibilities.
Until he finished listening to this song completely, his attitude changed.
The melody is light, the arrangement is concise, and the chorus is extremely memorable, meeting all the elements of a perfect pop song. With the blessing of the MV, the expressiveness is even higher.
"You are right; I think this will be a good idea." Leon turned the pen thoughtfully, showing satisfaction with Tim's proposal.
Actually, he was thinking about something else: What's worth hyping about signing a contract?
This is the same as the rise and fall of the stock market; there is predictability on the news side.
Good news or bad news will be digested in advance.
As early as a week ago, eye-catching entertainment news headlines such as "Columbia Records Signs Street Jesus Leon, Will the Curse of Backbiting Continue?", "Troublemaker of the Entertainment Industry, What Impact Will Leon Joining Columbia Records Have on the East Coast Music Market?" were already flying all over the sky.
By the time the single is released, the hype heat will have long passed.
He wants to give Stringer a big gift, a huge traffic wave that can truly sweep across the United States and even the world entertainment sector.
Robbie's name appeared in his mind.
After the breakup, the two did not completely stop communicating.
Both sides still silently liked each other on social media:
When Leon reached the top on Grammy night, Robbie was always the first to send blessings and applause;
When he was entangled in various troubles, he also always received caring calls from the other party.
It's just that all this seems to be separated by a thin layer of glass, never like the past.
Leon plans to have a good talk with Robbie, using the official announcement of the breakup to push the heat of We Don't Talk Anymore to the climax.
Next, the two sides discussed the future plan in detail and had a very pleasant chat.
Stringer and Tim both believe that the image of "Street Jesus" is the most successful persona in the music scene in recent years besides Adele.
Leon is tough and greedy, entangled in scandals and street conflicts, disturbing the East Coast music scene.
What is more annoying is that he always wins in the end.
Adele is completely different. Since her debut, she has been a chubby punching bag character.
Not only is her appearance plain, but she also repeatedly hits walls in relationships, finally relying on her musical talent to get the heroine script and reach the pinnacle of life.
These two completely different images are now in the pocket of Columbia Records.
Stringer requested the PR department to continue the image of "Street Jesus" and tailor a PR plan.
"From now on, the recording of all works in the new album must be completed under the supervision of the company; we can provide top-level resources." Tim reminded.
"When recording that song, I hadn't thought about my future path yet, and I care very much about the progress of this album."
Leon casually found an excuse to put it off.
No matter how many opinions Tim had in his heart, it was useless; Stringer had long compromised.
Leon successfully obtained 50% of the master rights of We Don't Talk Anymore and Old Town Road with this micro-operation.
In the case where the songwriting copyrights of these two songs are in his hands, his sovereignty over these two works overshadows Columbia Records.
Near the end of the meeting, Stringer asked most executives to return to their posts and walked to Leon, hinting that he wanted to say a few words alone.
He wandered around the wine cabinet for a while, turned back, and asked: "I heard you like whiskey very much?"
"Yes." Leon quickly added, "Except for Japanese wine; they don't understand how to brew that stuff at all, and the taste is terribly boring."
Columbia Records was acquired by Sony under the operation of Akio Morita in the 1980s. Strictly speaking, the Japanese are the overlords of this company.
But Stringer obviously also turned up his nose at Japanese whiskey and teased: "I completely agree with your view. Every year, the Japanese management sends me a lot of Japanese whiskey. If it weren't for the expensive price, I should have poured it into the toilet as a cleaner."
He poured Leon a glass of wine, and his expression suddenly became a little serious: "I want to give you some personal advice..."
"Of course, I need your advice very much." Leon pricked up his ears to listen. At least from the current performance, he doesn't hate Stringer.
The other party is the kind of manager who likes to delegate power, showing no excessive greed for either power or money.
At least it looks like this for now.
Leon doesn't believe there are any saints in this twisted jungle composed of carnal desire, fame, and money.
"You should hire more bodyguards to ensure your safety." Stringer said, "I can introduce a professional team; they were responsible for the security of boxing champion Mayweather..."
"Thank you for your kindness; I will seriously consider your suggestion." Leon raised his eyebrows, seeing through the other party's intention.
"Are you worried JAY-Z will retaliate against me?"
"I know him very well. In the 90s, I watched him grow up step by step." Stringer said, "With his way of doing things, power, and wealth, he won't let you go so easily..."
When deciding to sign Leon, the executives of Columbia Records only worried about one thing: Will this kid suddenly die on the street one day?
There is no human touch factor here; just to reach this deal, they paid a $30 million signing fee.
"Don't worry so much; he hasn't cleaned up his own mess yet." Leon spread his hands and said.
After JAY-Z spent a lot of money to smooth out connections in the government, the storm caused by Diddy's arrest seemed to have ended.
But this is only temporary. How long he can be safe depends entirely on Charlie's attitude.
The authorities release some information every once in a while like squeezing toothpaste. This method puts huge psychological pressure on the celebrities involved, which is more uncomfortable than being arrested and jailed directly.
"Okay..." Seeing Leon full of confidence, Stringer spread his hands. "I just remind you not to go too far. Think about Michael Jackson; he once ruled the entire music scene, but the result..."
"I will keep your advice in mind." Leon said so, but didn't think so in his heart.
The current pattern of the music scene is not the 90s. All parties have already completed the distribution of interests. How can there be a chance to stand out without muddying the waters?
The music scene has long lost the human touch and idealism of the last century; now it relies entirely on capital to speak.
Even putting aside personal grievances, Leon's business almost completely overlaps with JAY-Z's; confrontation is inevitable.
Two days later, the recording of Panda officially began in the studio of Apocalypse Music.
Currently, the recording process of The Rap of America is halfway through. Leon has high hopes for this song, treating it as King Von's big killer in the live broadcast of the finals.
"Why hasn't this damn ngga arrived yet?" Leon frowned and said to Marco in a deep voice, "Call him. If he doesn't appear in ten minutes, let him roll back to Chicago."
"Understood Boss... I'll call him right away." Marco was so scared that he didn't dare to breathe loudly, trembling as he took out his phone.
About five minutes later, cursing sounds came from outside the recording studio.
"Fxxk... that Brazilian chick almost killed me..." King Von walked into the recording studio supported by Lil Durk.
Two days ago, his injury had improved significantly, just a slight limp.
However, listening to his condition now, it is worse than when he was just shot, as if he would fall at a touch.
"You bastard are late again." Leon lowered his voice. "Does a ngga like you deserve a room full of people waiting for you? Listen, I hope this is the last time..."
King Von looked aggrieved and quickly explained: "Boss, I was ambushed! Fxxk, I met a Brazilian chick in the club last night. That btch saw me on the news; she insisted on going to the restroom with me to do something. I refused her at first..."
"As a result, she squatted down and attacked me directly. You know the injury on my leg hasn't healed yet; I couldn't resist at all!"
"Duke and I took that Brazilian chick back to the hotel, and only settled that chick through close cooperation..."
Black people's rap talent is innate, especially black people who have received higher street education in slums.
Every sentence of King Von rhymed, making Max fascinated, exclaiming: "Interesting..."
"Shut up!" Leon raised his voice by three degrees, and the two little blacks immediately lowered their heads, daring not to make a sound.
"I really want to stuff you two bastards back into the tunnel (womb) to be remade..."
After Max made final adjustments to the recording equipment, King Von was supported into the recording booth.
He held the lyrics book tightly in his hand, tapping his leg with his fingertips, moving silently with the accompaniment.
Three minutes later, he shouted: "Ready to start, Boss!"
"So fast? Did you memorize the lyrics?"
"Of course! Panda panda... no one knows this state better than me; three of my dad's brothers died of drug overdose!"
The indicator lights on the mixing console and the equipment screen emitted cold light. As the accompaniment sounded, King Von immediately entered the state.
"Von Von Von!"
Hearing him make subtle changes to the original lyrics, adding his signature dog bark as a personal tag.
Max didn't agree at first, but now it seems not bad to listen to.
King Von takes the route of persona rap. Adding a personal tag before each work is a very smart practice, which helps deepen the listener's impression.
In addition, to fit his personal experience better, a small section of confessional background vocals at the beginning was also deleted and modified.
"Let those haters see who is back; King Von is back with O-block."
"We spray Chicago's blood to New York; cowards, soft eggs, and btches lift your butts and get ready!"
Emotions were paved in place through this monologue, all paving the way for that one—RrrraaaaH!!!
"Awesome..." Max stood behind the mixing console holding a cigarette, his eyes fixed on the track waveform on the screen.
Shaking his head while listening.
"I told you this guy has some talent." Leon couldn't help but sway with the melody.
King Von's biggest advantage is that his lyrics, style, and persona blend perfectly together. As soon as he opens his mouth, the listener is enveloped by the street atmosphere.
Kanye says in his lyrics that he wants to kill a few people; no audience will take it seriously, and even want to laugh a little.
But if King Von threatens in the lyrics to bring a few brothers to your house at night, no one will just treat this as lyrics.
"Panda, Panda, Panda, Panda, Panda"
Leon and Max hadn't been happy for a few seconds before they couldn't hold back at the most essential chorus part.
King Von roared the lazy and deep chorus, instantly breaking the psychedelic atmosphere of the original song.
He couldn't read the staff (sheet music) at all. Let alone the staff, he even needed help modifying the lyrics.
"Stop! Were you raped by a panda? Why scream so loud?" Max pressed the talkback button, and his voice transmitted through the headphones. "Relax... imagine you are walking on the streets of Chicago at midnight, high and dizzy, holding a beautiful Latin chick, the empty street is your kingdom..."
"Lazy feeling, psychedelic feeling... do you understand what I mean?"
Lil Durk scratched his head. "Lazy feeling? Do you mean singing like Drake?"
"Yes, exactly!" Max snapped his fingers.
"Fxxk, only sissies sing like that; that's not rap at all..."
Leon knocked on the mixing console. "Do as Max says. If you want to prove your masculinity, I'll ask Jorge to take you to Mexico to see if you count as masculine compared to farmers in Sinaloa."
King Von dared not make a sound, quickly picked up the lyrics book, and found the state while singing acapella.
Max kept providing guidance: "You don't need to imitate Drake; your own tone is very good, silky with a little aggression..."
"Yes... that's it. You are no longer a poor boy in the slums. You just bought a gold chain, have the strongest goods in your hand, hold the hottest chick, drive the coolest sports car..."
"You are a big star, a black man floating in the clouds!"
Under almost hypnotic guidance, King Von soon saw himself in fantasy.
Recording restarted. As soon as the drum beat dropped, he quickly entered the state, lowering his voice:
"I got broads in Atlanta, twisting dope, lean, and the Fanta."
"White X6 looks like a panda, black X6, Phantom..."
"Pockets swoll, Danny DeVito."
"Rarri's and Rovers, convertible Lambos..."
Max leaned on the mixing console, crossed his hands on his chest, shaking his head with enjoyment following the drum beat.
Now, his worries about the simple structure of this song were swept away; the strong atmosphere made up for everything.
"This is the dope sht!" He took off his headphones and patted Leon on the shoulder excitedly. "Young people will love this. They will loop this song in the car stereo to bomb the street while holding chicks!"