Damn Idol Chapter 195
* * *
HR Corporation was made up of pros among pros.
The reason they occupied a certain portion of Billboard, and the reason they were called a pillar of the American music industry, was simple.
They were just that good at their jobs.
And now, those people had begun moving to sell the album.
The goal was Diamond—ten million copies.
“Diamond? In 2018?”
“Is this guy Elvis Presley or something?”
“Even Elvis wouldn’t stand a chance if he debuted now.”
It was only natural for a company to set its targets high, but the opinion that ten million was excessive swept through HR Corporation.
But Andrew Bryant, who was pushing his first project since taking office as CEO, paid it no mind.
Others found it absurd, but he was sincerely aiming for ten million copies.
To explain the calculation in a little more detail, the plan was to sell five million copies in the United States and five million across the world.
As long as it was not music that only worked on a specific race or class, HR Corporation usually moved as much volume worldwide as it did in the United States.
Asians were spread all over the world, and they formed a different kind of bond than Americans did.
When a Korean player performed well in the Premier League, Chinese people—excluding extreme nationalists—
felt proud.
The moment Andrew Bryant’s opinion began to receive the evaluation, “Maybe there’s a slight chance?” was when recording for the English version of TFD was completed.
‘It really is fascinating.’
Among Han Sion’s countless talents, the hardest one to understand was his use of English.
Han Sion’s English was perfect.
Not perfect in a contextual sense, but perfectly colloquial English used by locals.
At Han Sion’s request, professional adapters had been attached to three of the tracks, but had he not written all the rest himself?
Andrew had no idea how this was possible.
But it was a very pleasant surprise.
And so, the sound tracks flown in from Korea were mixed and mastered by a studio under HR Corporation.
He knew Han Sion was seasoned in this area as well, but this was something HR Corporation could not concede.
The texture of the sound was connected to the company’s brand.
Giant corporations like HR Corporation owned countless music labels, and preserving the texture of a label’s color was also an important part of marketing.
That was how post-production began.
The guitars Han Sion had mixed so clearly became just a tiny bit dirtier, and the center of gravity in the vocal pitch shifted from the high EQ to the middle EQ.
The drums more openly emphasized the ghost notes, and the bass that had been barely audible became easier to hear.
Mixing and mastering were not merely technical processes that created pleasant sounds.
Familiar cultural colors were also involved.
And HR was a devoted believer in the traditional American sound.
As a result…
“Whoa.”
“This is going to work.”
“I don’t know about Diamond, but at least triple platinum…”
The people who had applauded after listening to Han Sion’s original sound track began to cheer.
All that remained was designing the cover, producing the album, and putting the contents inside packaging that Americans liked.
That was something time would solve.
Around then, the contracts were completed.
Not the contract with Sedalbaegil.
They were temporary contracts with the many artists who had participated in TFD.
Starting with Yankos Greenwood and Donald McGus, all the way to Mary Jones and Chris Edward.
Han Sion’s musical ability in gathering these Avengers in one place was remarkable, and so was the simplicity with which he had made just one album with them.
After HR Corporation finished signing them, it tried to turn that “simplicity” into “complexity.”
Han Sion had simply sold the album and received money, but HR Corporation intended to earn money in a more complicated way.
The start of it was Donald McGus, the deeply rooted giant tree of blues who possessed the eternal sensibility of a boy.
* * *
[Ladies and gentlemen! It’s Donald McGus!]
Donald McGus was famous, but he was not someone who appeared on famous talk shows.
Because being famous and having an image that made money were strictly different things, broadcasting stations did not regard Donald McGus as an S-class guest.
But Donald McGus’s agent demanded an S-class appearance fee.
Because of this gap, Donald McGus had not appeared on TV for quite a long time—excluding album promotions.
But among viewers who did not know this fact, some changed the channel when they saw Donald McGus’s face, while others welcomed him and sat down on the sofa.
[How have you been?]
[I’ve been living my life cursing the Grammy Awards for not nominating me.]
At the Grammy Awards ceremony held not long ago, Donald McGus had not received a single nomination.
But the viewers and the audience burst into laughter.
After all, he had not released an album, so it was only natural that he had not been nominated.
After making the joke, Donald McGus and the host exchanged small talk about this and that.
The Ellen High Talk Show they appeared on was produced by a label under HBO.
In other words, the top priority was promoting the documentary he had filmed with Chris Edward.
But the one that had added capital to this was HR Corporation, and the predetermined show reached the predetermined point.
[At this point, blues feels less like a genre of music and more like a foundation, doesn’t it? Something included in all music.]
While talking about blues, the host mentioned a few rookie musicians who had recently been rising in the blues scene.
[How do you evaluate them?]
[Isn’t there a separate place for evaluating pretty-boy bands?]
[Pardon?]
[Why don’t you ask NME or someplace like that about this trash?]
[Wow, that’s harsh.]
Donald McGus was not a venomous critic, but he was an honest man.
Because of that honesty, he had sometimes won favor and sometimes provoked public outrage.
This time, there was a high chance it would be the latter.
The host asked again, looking rather flustered.
[But these guys’ album sales are no joke, you know? They’re receiving solid support from blues fans.]
[Then those fans must have rotten ears that don’t know what’s good.]
As if he had properly settled on a concept, Donald threw out sharp words, and the host continued with the designated script while calming the situation down.
* * *
—That was going too far.
—Old people from past generations always fail to admit that their generation has passed.
—And the easiest way to put that into practice is to attack the next generation.
Donald McGus’s remarks caused quite a stir.
Especially because the young blues artists had handsome appearances and excellent wit, giving them a young fanbase.
Two of the three musicians insulted by Donald McGus accepted it.
[If he says so, then that’s how it is. If American blues is the Force, then he’s Yoda.]
[He can’t be Darth Vader because of his height, can he?]
Though they ended their comments with a nuance that seemed to lightly jab at Donald McGus’s unimpressive appearance, this much was acceptable.
But the remaining one, Ingwi Geichi, did not hold back.
[There’s no need to attach too much meaning to what a senile old man said. His blues stayed stuck on his third album, and from the fourth onward, he fell behind.]
By charging straight at him, he announced a beef between blues musicians.
In the rock or hip-hop scenes, it was common to butt heads and fight, but in the blues scene, it was rare.
Naturally, the media grew excited and began spreading their beef everywhere, and Ingwi Geichi did not stop.
[There’s one more piece of evidence that he’s either gone senile or that he needs money and is running his mouth.]
Around then, Ingwi Geichi dug up Donald McGus’s past remarks.
They were remarks he had made about TFD.
Though quite some time had already passed, Donald McGus had once showered TFD and Han Sion with praise.
He had said Han Sion was a musician who would lead the next generation of blues, and had even gone so far as to say it was almost a shame that Han Sion’s talent encompassed not just blues, but all music.
Donald McGus had talked so much that some blues fans had even bought TFD to listen to it.
After that, masters had each added a word, and fans of their respective genres had purchased TFD as well.
That was how its U.S. sales had surpassed Gold.
But now, those remarks seemed to be turning into poison.
Even so, Donald McGus was confident.
[The guy’s eyes are more crippled than his hands. Does he even have an HBO ID?]
Just in time, HBO’s documentary was released.
The HBO documentary contained all sorts of content, and Donald McGus’s tremendous skill was captured properly as well.
When his guitar properly toyed with blue notes, one could not help but applaud.
There was also the conversation between Chris Edward and Donald McGus.
[…! What, it ends here?]
[He said he saw Donald McGus’s performance in a dream.]
[Who did?]
Zion, who did not even appear in the documentary, and his song were not properly heard.
But the scene that evening, where Donald McGus, thoroughly drunk, played guitar on the rooftop, was superb.
Everyone watching the documentary thought that an incredible song had been born, but…
[He was a guy who told amusing lies.]
In truth, that song had been written by Han Sion.
Donald McGus realized it immediately after playing it himself.
The documentary ended there.
It merely ended with a subtitle saying, “After that, Donald McGus participated in the album of a K-pop group produced by Zion.”
There was neither Sedalbaegil’s name nor the album title.
It looked as though they were not mentioning it because, to anyone’s eyes, it had nothing to do with them.
It did not look like a promotion.
But all of these slow and secretive processes were things HR Corporation had planned in order to reach Diamond.
And even…
The young blues musicians recruited in time for the documentary’s release, even Ingwi Geichi, who was exchanging sharp beef with Donald McGus, had all been brought into the fold.
* * *
“Chief Producer. We received a call from Sedalbaegil.”
“They’re slow.”
The chief producer of MBN’s variety department said that, but still set up an appointment with Sedalbaegil.
The PDs had probably picked up on it vaguely as well, but MBN was obstructing Sedalbaegil.
By boycotting all their appearance rights, including music shows, they were sending one message.
‘Let’s all make a living together… something like that, I suppose?’
It was called a boycott, but everything was open.
When Sedalbaegil’s company tried to arrange music show schedules, the response had gone out that the week they had mentioned would be difficult, but that through consultation, they could try to reach the schedule they wanted.
At this level, even a kindergartener could understand.
It would probably be a smooth negotiation.
Sedalbaegil would make a place card that gave MBN’s name a seat beside their tremendous success, and MBN would exchange honor and friendship with them.
But the next day.
The chief producer could not help but be flustered in the meeting held with Director Seo Seunghyeon and Han Sion seated before him.
“We came to deliver this in person because misunderstandings might arise through email or a phone call.”
“For this round of promotions, due to our schedule, I think music broadcasts will be difficult for us.”
However, the chief producer knew very well that this was an absurd threat.
If proper negotiations did not take place now, the fake boycott would become a real boycott.
After organizing his thoughts for a moment, the chief producer opened his mouth.