Combining Country music with Trap was an unprecedented innovation; historically, no one had ever thought of doing it.
"Man, we're either going to go down in history, or the critics are going to call this absolute bullshxt." David looked worried.
"I don't care about their reviews. As long as it makes money, it's right." Unlike David, Leon was full of confidence in this song.
Times had changed. In the streaming era, music was purely a fast-moving consumer good.
Any musician obsessed with so-called artistic pursuits would only end up walking into their grave clutching their "artistic" self-indulgent works.
The chorus of Old Town Road was catchy enough, and the melody was simple.
It had a high potential for spreading through internet platforms and streaming services. Even if it was questioned by music critics, it could still make big money.
This was determined by popularity; the efficiency of online dissemination far outweighed traditional channels.
It was an indisputable fact that the entire physical record industry was declining. Spotify was currently brewing a push for a free model.
This meant that profiting by selling copies would no longer be the mainstream. Anyone could enjoy free music services on the Spotify platform.
The only difference was that users could block ads by subscribing.
This was a compromise with the general market environment and a challenge to the traditional profit model led by the iTunes Store.
"I'm curious, if this song hits the Billboard charts, should it be listed on the Country chart or the R&B/Hip-Hop chart?" David said with a laugh.
"Maybe both at the same time." Leon patted David on the shoulder. "Let's get to work. I believe this time we can still lead the trend of pop music."
The recording only lasted an hour and went very smoothly.
For Leon, who started as a rock singer, interpreting this slow-tempo country music was no difficulty at all.
There was no need to deliberately imitate the raspy voice; after plugging in the auto-tune, the effect could be easily achieved.
After electronic music became popular, most new-generation singers didn't need to put in as much effort as their predecessors when performing live.
In the 80s and 90s, every concert by superstars like Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston was a huge physical exertion.
But now, singers just needed to plug in, fake a few moves to the backing track, and lead the audience to sway. They could make big money easily without even opening their mouths much.
"The banjo sound needs to be clearer. It can't be completely covered by the 808 drums, or it won't have that country flavor," Leon suggested.
David recorded the problems found during the sound check and adjusted the backing track.
He promised to bring the final version of the beat in a week to start the formal recording work.
Not long after Leon walked out of the recording studio, he heard noise coming from the office next door.
It sounded like a group of nggas playing around.
One very strange thing about America is that although it is a multi-ethnic country where people from different cultural backgrounds around the world have merged for hundreds of years...
You can still determine the other person's skin color just by the speed and tone of their speech.
Having mixed in Brownsville, Leon was all too familiar with the voice of the Black community.
Pushing the door open and entering the office, sure enough, he saw two young black men playing around.
They had dreadlocks, wore streetwear t-shirts from the dollar store, and their skin was covered with colorful cheap tattoos.
The moment the two young black men saw Leon, they froze motionless as if hit by a petrification spell.
"Get your asses off my sofa right now," Leon said in a deep voice.
The little nggas immediately jumped off the sofa like two agile monkeys.
"Damn... we finally meet you!"
"This is Street Jesus in the flesh! Oh my God! My dad would be proud of me!"
The two nggas danced with excitement.
Phil introduced them: "These two kids are Lil Durk and King Von~"
"I know." Leon lit a cigarette and sat down in the swivel chair.
Lil Durk was relatively restrained, but King Von had forgotten himself.
He started breakdancing in the office, constantly shouting stupid things like "I'm gonna blow up~" and "Dad, I made it."
This was inseparable from his upbringing.
Leon had long done a detailed background check on these two.
King Von's real name was Dayvon Daquan Bennett.
His father was imprisoned for a felony early on, so Bennett was raised by his mother.
This was the standard start for a black person growing up on the South Side of Chicago.
In 2005, when Bennett was 11, his father was executed.
Just last year, Bennett was arrested and jailed for suspected shooting and murder while attending community college.
He was charged with first-degree murder and two counts of attempted murder. One person died and two were injured in that shooting.
However, defying luck combined with the tide of the times saved him; he met a judge overflowing with bleeding-heart liberalism.
Woke activist, equal rights fighter, Democratic leftist...
This judge had all the elements maxed out.
"He's just a poor child..."
"How could a child commit such a serious crime?"
This was the judge's evaluation of the case in court.
In the end, this law-abiding judge acquitted King Von due to insufficient evidence.
This gave King Von the chance to flee to New York and shoot Diddy, and the gears of fate began to turn.
The background full of gang violence was exactly why Leon picked him!
The popularity of Drill music drove the revival of gangsta rap. Young people were full of fantasies about this life of tethered violence.
In white middle-class communities, those kids with mushroom cuts wearing glasses listened to this music to make themselves appear more masculine.
"Listen, my time is tight." Leon glanced at his watch. "Long story short, I'm ready to officially sign you."
"God!" King Von jumped up excitedly. "Quick, slap me so I know I'm not dreaming!"
"I'm signing with Apocalypse Music~ I'm really taking off this time!"
"I'm gonna let the New York btches taste the flavor of South Side Chicago sausage tonight!"
Phil sneered, pouring cold water on their enthusiasm with one sentence: "Signing with Apocalypse Music isn't that simple."
"WTF? Boss, what does this old man mean?" King Von pouted his thick lips, looking confused.
Leon spread his hands and said nothing, indicating his agreement with Phil.
Apocalypse Music was already a top-tier label; it was impossible to sign two penniless nggas to pollute the label's purity.
"I plan to establish a new label. You have a good chance of becoming the first artists signed to this label," Leon said.
Hearing this, Lil Durk's expression instantly turned from cloudy to sunny.
But King Von wasn't satisfied. "Fxxk... I wanted to sign with the same label as Cardi B. I absolutely love that chick."
"Enough, you don't have much time." Leon frowned. "Show me what you got."
He had only briefly listened to a few of their songs online.
In terms of work quality, they were talented among the myriad of underground rappers, but there was no hope of becoming an explosive hit.
It could be summarized as "they got something, but not much."
Apocalypse Music didn't raise idlers.
Leon was essentially giving these two a chance for a live exam; they had to bring their A-game.
Lil Durk took a deep breath and began the most important Freestyle performance of his life.
For a rapper, Freestyle is their weapon for walking the streets.
It is the way to show their attitude and attack power.
No drums, no beat.
Lil Durk's hands constantly changed into various gang signs, his thick lips flipping up and down.
Constantly spitting out various curse words and slang, the lyrics were filled with violence and sexual elements.
"Very good." The excellent acapella won unanimous praise from Leon and Phil.
"So are you going to sign me, Boss?"
Leon didn't answer directly. He pointed at King Von and said, "Your turn, kid."
King Von showed a hint of nervousness, straining his throat and shouting strangely: "Von! Von! Von!"
"Why is this kid suddenly barking like a dog?" Leon and Phil looked at each other, thinking the guy had fried his brain with drugs.
In their shocked eyes, King Von began his rap performance Took Her To The O:
Shorty was hot, I ran into her at the store
She wanted some smoke, I gave her that raw
Took her to the O
She said she had to go home and get some clothes
I drove her back, but things went wrong
Her boyfriend was beating on her
I gave that bastard two shots to the dome
He was dead as dead can be
I thought she'd be scared
But she smiled and said she was hungry
And gave me some brain
The whole song was straightforward, plain as an elementary school student's essay.
But under King Von's unique tone and precise flow, it sounded surprisingly good.
"Good singing, but I'm curious about one thing." Leon asked with his legs crossed.
"Ask away, Boss!"
"Is everything in your lyrics true?"
"Of course!" King Von raised his volume: "I killed that guy! The cops still haven't found me!"
Leon's eyes lit up, realizing he had found a treasure.
This was true "confession rap." Realistic, sketching-style descriptions were more lethal than any pile of curse words and slang.
It could transport the listener to the streets in a second, allowing them to immersively experience the feeling of being shrouded in violence.
"Very good, you proved your ability," Leon said.
"So you're planning to sign us this time, right!" King Von rubbed his hands excitedly.
"That's right, I'm willing to give you this chance." Leon said, "Phil will notify you of the signing time, but we have to wait until the new label is ready."
"We made it, Bro~" King Von and Lil Durk hugged each other, their eyes constantly glancing at Leon.
Leon understood instantly; this was a hint for a signing bonus.
But he didn't make any indication, quietly watching the two nggas leave.
"Look what I said, you are the stingiest devil I have ever seen." As soon as King Von and the other left, Phil mocked.
"To be honest, I don't see much commercial value in these two nggas," Leon shrugged.
"You just said their music was valuable."
"I have to consider the marketing costs invested in them..."
The work determines the ceiling.
King Von had almost no fan base, and the audience for his work was quite limited.
It was hard to become a global hit with just one song like Robbie or Ariana.
Leon, who was already worth a fortune, didn't see much commercial value in them at the moment. Even if the Inspiration Refresh produced suitable music, he definitely wouldn't use it on them.
Near closing time, Bonnie walked in and reported: "Mr. Scooter replied to the email. He showed interest in your new movie proposal."
"Good, looks like I need to schedule a time to meet him," Leon said.
"New movie? WTF... why didn't you mention this to me?" Phil was interested.
Last time when Leon wanted to make a movie, he had mocked him.
When the box office for Straight Outta Compton came out, he almost regretted it to death.
If he could turn back time, he would not hesitate to liquidate his stock investments and go all-in on that movie.
The new movie Bonnie mentioned was naturally Ready Player One.
In fact, since the inspiration refresh, Leon had only mentioned information about this movie to Bonnie and Scooter Braun.
Partnering with Netflix was a last resort.
Ready Player One was a big-budget movie; the budget could likely exceed 100 million dollars.
If it made money, great. If it flopped, Leon couldn't afford the consequences.
Netflix, with its deep pockets, became the best choice to share the risk.
And the most critical IP issue—this movie involved a large number of classic IPs and required navigating between major IP holders.
The workload was headache-inducing just thinking about it.
Netflix's film division had a department dedicated to copyright issues; they were professionals.
Traditional giants like Warner, Disney, and Universal had to sit obediently at the negotiating table when facing Netflix.
In Hollywood, wealth is truth.
This energy was something Apocalypse Film & Entertainment, which was just starting out, could not compare to.
Seeing Leon refusing to answer directly, Phil complained with a face full of resentment:
"Clinging to the big tree of Netflix... looks like you won't have to worry about raising funds for movies in the future... These internet bastards are outrageously rich, waving cash wherever they go."
"Didn't you think about producing a ridiculous hip-hop talent show before? I think Netflix would be interested in even that. Even if they lose their shirts, it doesn't matter to them."
A casual remark woke Leon up.
He leaned back in his swivel chair and touched his chin, muttering: "Hip-hop reality show?"
After acquiring VIBE magazine, he had indeed thought about this idea because he coveted the economic benefits created by American Idol.
Talent shows were the biggest trend in the TV circle right now, not only in the US but also globally.
Just this April, NBC launched a blockbuster talent show The Voice, directly targeting American Idol on Fox.
NBC paid a huge price to buy the rights to the original Dutch show. At first, the industry didn't think this project could compete with American Idol.
Until after the first episode aired, the high ratings slapped those so-called professionals in the face.
"You rarely say something useful. That's a good idea..." Leon muttered to himself.
"What? I just said it casually. The talent show track is already saturated," Phil said.
"Those shows are too traditional. There isn't a reality show targeting hip-hop music on the market yet."
"Traditional music shows already include hip-hop genres..."
Phil analyzed everything. Producing a pure hip-hop talent show would cost about the same as a traditional talent show.
Big-name judges, top-tier stage effects, high promotion costs...
It wouldn't lack anything it should have.
But the market audience was a large group smaller than the competition. Some people were naturally indifferent to hip-hop music, or even turned up their noses at it.
"The focus of this show shouldn't just be on the music, but on the reality show effect," Leon said.
"Reality show effect? I don't quite understand what you mean." Phil got more confused the more he listened.
Traditional talent shows still relied on singing quality to attract viewers.
A grassroots background, an ordinary appearance bursting with a voice of nature—this was what audiences all over the world loved to see.
"Drama, rebellion, sex elements, violence... these are all elements of hip-hop music," Leon analyzed. "And these are factors that traditional talent shows don't have."
"You plan to put this stuff on TV?" Phil's eyes widened.
He could already imagine an amateur female rapper shaking her ass to seduce the judges while rapping;
Or two groups of nggas passionately cursing each other on TV, then having a gang fight in the studio, and other magical scenes.
"Exactly. Viewers love to watch this." Leon knocked on the table, sounding like a gavel falling at an auction.
From the beginning, acquiring Vibe wasn't just for the magazine business.
As a witness to the peak of gangsta rap in the 90s, Vibe recorded an era.
Back then, whether it was Tupac or Diddy, they racked their brains to occupy more pages in this magazine.
Even today, when the magazine industry is in decline, Vibe remains a symbol of hip-hop music.
Now, with the added titles of "Father of Drill Music" and "White Godfather of Harlem," Leon's prestige in the rap world and the black community had reached its peak.
If he produced a hip-hop music show, rap fans across America would respond.
Plus, with the profits from the movie, his funds were ample.
If he was going to do this show, now was the best time!
Thinking of this, Leon had almost no hesitation left in his mind. "Maybe I should talk to Scooter about this."
"Are you really decided?"
"Of course. If someone is footing the bill, why not give it a try?"
Netflix's investment in original content was comprehensive, covering movies, TV series, animation, and other fields.
Variety shows were also within their investment scope.
If he produced a hip-hop reality show in the name of Lion's Den Media, superficially Leon was paying, but as long as the contract was signed, Netflix would foot the bill in the end.
This cooperation model is usually divided into two types: exclusive licensing and complete buyout.
The former allows the production company to retain copyright, only selling the broadcasting rights to Netflix, with the other party paying a licensing fee;
Usually covering the broadcasting rights for several seasons at once;
The production company can continue to profit through other channels.
Complete buyout means Netflix buys all rights at once;
Including global broadcasting rights, brand development, merchandise revenue, etc.;
The production company only earns the buyout fee and cannot enjoy subsequent income.
"I have many friends in the rap circle, or Cardi B could be a judge," Leon said. "As for those two nggas, Lil Durk and King Von, why not just let them debut in the show?"
As soon as the words fell, Phil's eyes flashed with light. "How do you come up with these ideas?"
By this point in the conversation, his view had been completely reversed.
From initially thinking it was a stupid decision to burn money, he now wanted to clap and cheer.
A large part of the income from talent shows comes from the contestants' debuts later on.
The winner of The Voice gets a $100,000 prize and a chance to sign with Universal Music.
Because they have already shown their personal charm in front of tens of millions of viewers on TV...
Viewers spontaneously develop a strange psychology, having an illusion of "I raised this singer with my own hands."
Therefore, these singers come with a huge fan base from their debut, an effect that throwing any amount of money into promotion can't achieve.
As the investor of this show, Leon could give the championship to whoever he wanted.
He could even rig the championship directly for his own singers to maximize revenue.
Only fools would discuss the authenticity of variety shows; everything in front of and behind the scenes was just for show effect.
If you break down the words "Reality Show," aside from the word "Show," nothing else is real.
"Let me think, what should this unprecedented new show be called?"
"How about The Rap of America?"