Chapter 17: Candy-Coated Turd
Releasing an album was no easy task, but Ethan didn't have to worry about that.
In the past few days, besides occasionally visiting Apollon's company, he had been busy photographing for *New York Underground Art* magazine.
As expected, the female model had become a sensation, gracing the cover of the recent issue of the magazine. Many homeless people relied on her to get through the harsh cold nights.
In terms of money, the model had put aside her previous shyness and principles. Apart from keeping her mask on, she had become bolder in her actions and attire.
Even though she was a hit with readers, Ethan's reprimands in the studio never stopped.
He felt that the model had become a bit complacent, her movements more careless.
Perhaps the rapid influx of money had made her forget what had truly attracted readers in the first place.
She didn't reveal her face, nor was she particularly prominent; it was mainly Ethan's perfect control over her curves, minimizing her flaws and highlighting her strengths.
Unfortunately, people often fail to see things clearly when they are blinded by success, just like Raymond.
Raymond was now hosting parties at home every day, almost celebrating his sudden rise to the top of the Billboard charts and making himself known to the American public.
Ethan, who had no interest in participating in white parties, let alone black ones, kept finding excuses to turn down invitations.
In the past few days, he and Jimmy had visited every used car dealership within a twenty-mile radius of their home. They finally settled on a used 1999 black Jeep Cherokee. It looked big and flashy, and the price was only $5,500.
Jimmy had wanted to recommend more famous and stylish models, but Ethan rejected them. He would need to frequently visit black neighborhoods, and driving a sports car might draw unwanted attention.
After buying the car, Ethan and Jimmy went for a spin to test it out.
On the road, Ethan turned on the radio and tuned in to a New York local DJ channel.
As the music started, Jimmy leaned against the car window and asked, "Why are you listening to a black radio station? I'd rather listen to 93.9 or just stick with 820."
At this point, he lowered his voice and mimicked the radio host: "This is New York Public Radio, WNYC FM and AM."
93.9 and 820 were channels of New York Public Radio WNYC, with the former playing music and the latter news.
Jimmy's words were the classic opening line everyone was familiar with.
Ethan just smiled and said nothing.
The music soon ended, and after a commercial break, the radio host introduced the next song.
"Alright, welcome back. Up next is a new song from Raymond, 'Beast Star.' Wow, I have to say, just hearing the name makes me excited."
The host was clearly being paid, praising the song excessively: "I heard this track breaks away from the usual black rap style, which often seeks speed and lacks depth. Instead, it tells the singer's story from childhood to now with a more intense voice. Just look at the name, 'Beast,' and you can imagine the singer's characteristics."
"Yeah, exactly," DJ Old Ai agreed. "And the album cover is really interesting. I've never seen a cover with such striking colors. Trust me, even if it's just for the cover, you should buy a copy."
"Yes, that's right. It's that unique. The single is already available in all major record stores, so you'll definitely find it on the shelves."
As the host finished speaking, deep 808 beats began, followed by a jarringly loud and somewhat irritating voice blasting from the radio.
"FXXK!" The huge volume startled Jimmy, causing him to jump and nearly hit the car roof. Ethan also jolted, turning the radio down to the lowest volume.
Meanwhile, among the traffic, another car visibly braked suddenly, with an angry black driver shouting out.
"FXXK, what kind of crap rap is this! Trying to scare me to death, huh? FXXK Old Ai! I'm going to complain!"
After passing the enraged driver, Jimmy looked at Ethan and said, "It's your fault. My heart is still racing."
Ethan shrugged. "I didn't expect it to be so loud." Although he had heard it before, this was his first time experiencing it in the confined space of the car. He didn't realize the noise would be amplified so much.
It seemed that the saying about New York traffic jams being caused by loud music might hold true. At least it wasn't rush hour.
"Raymond? Wait, is this the rapper you mentioned?" Jimmy suddenly recalled what Ethan had said before.
"That's right. I took the cover photo."
"Geez, what a waste. With that kind of voice, he really shouldn't be doing rap. He should join a band and sing rock at music festivals instead."
"Probably still stuck in the dream of being a rap superstar."
On the other side, well-dressed Yesan was observing the single's release at a record store.
He stood by the counter, pretending to listen, while scanning the surroundings.
Even though daily sales data were collected by the company, Yesan still wanted to see the buyers' reactions in person, especially since the cover was strikingly different in a sea of black-and-white styles. He was curious if the young people would be receptive.
However, he soon realized he was worrying for nothing. Regardless of whether they were black or white, everyone who entered the store immediately picked up Raymond's single to check out the cover.
Some chose to buy it right away, while a considerable number opted to listen to the song first. Yesan counted and saw that five out of ten people did this.
But when they put on the headphones and started listening, their expressions twisted in discomfort.
"Are you sure this isn't rock? This is rap?"
"My ears are about to go deaf."
"What is he singing? I can't understand anything."
The overly intense music and rough voice discouraged many listeners, making Yesan feel frustrated.
And these reactions were relatively mild. The two black guys by the headphones were more direct.
"Damn! What kind of noise song is this?" one of them complained. "It's louder than my mom's voice."
"Really? Let me listen." His friend put on the headphones for ten seconds and then gave up.
"Shit, it's a turd wrapped in candy paper. I can't hear any rhythm at all. It's like a drunk guy vomiting loudly in my ear."
"Such a waste of a good-looking cover."
"Damn it, can I just buy the cover and take it home?"
The two guys grumbled as they put the album back on the shelf and left Yesan's side.
Hearing their complaints, Yesan felt the future of the album was looking bleak.
If this continued, they wouldn't even recover the cost. It absolutely! Couldn't be distributed further.
"Stubborn Faith!" he muttered angrily to himself as he walked out of the store and headed straight to Faith Music Company.
.....
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