Damn Idol — Episode 27
Lee Hyunseok, who had been scrutinizing my expression, shrugged.
“You knew, huh?”
“I did, but I thought it suited a survival show better.”
“That’s true.”
What Lee Hyunseok wanted to say was simple.
The way I’d sung
Following the preliminary mission’s rules, the accompaniment stayed the same; only the song sung over it changed.
Because of that, the song inevitably left a stronger impression of “novelty” than “quality.”
Setting aside whether the song was good or bad, changing the final product drastically without altering the MR at all was bound to seem fascinating.
“You don’t have any thoughts of rearranging it?”
“I have a feeling PD Kang would hate that.”
Even if the song turned out better, the buzz directly tied to the broadcast itself could drop.
It’s not good if the song heard on the program and the audio release don’t match.
I’d spoken up to this point assuming Representative Lee Hyunseok had some kind of alternative in mind.
Even if that alternative sucked, I figured he’d at least have some idea.
“Ah, right? It might stray from the picture the PD has in mind…….”
Surprisingly, this man had no thoughts at all.
He had impressive connections that carried weight in the music industry and broadcasting world, and I’d wondered why he lived like an outsider—turns out his business sense was nonexistent.
Come to think of it, no wonder he’d offered to introduce me to his company from our very first meeting.
Looking back now, it was hard to believe that line had come from pure goodwill.
I could have ended the conversation here, but Lee Hyunseok’s words had piqued my interest.
At first I’d had no particular thoughts, but now I was curious.
What would happen if I completely rearranged the song?
Billboard didn’t matter.
After all, the Billboard Hot 100 rankings aggregate all versions.
Original versions, unplugged versions, UK versions—all of them count as a single song.
But I understood it wasn’t like that in Korea.
Besides, Korea places huge importance on “music shows,” something America doesn’t have.
After a moment of thought, I spoke up.
“I am somewhat intrigued, but what do you think of this method?”
“What is it?”
Representative Lee Hyunseok, who had been listening carefully to what followed, widened his eyes.
“Is that possible?”
“I’ll have to try.”
Ah, that’s right.
I’d gotten a gift card from Gu Taehwan this morning; I should at least reply.
* * *
No one knew, but the reason PD Kang Seokwoo had left MBN and transferred to M Show was simple.
Pressure.
Four years ago, a program he directed at MBN had been a smash hit, and having displayed a cheerful demeanor on air, he was treated as MBN’s star PD.
The modifier attached to Kang Seokwoo in every online article was “MBN’s ratings manufacturer.”
But that hadn’t actually been the case.
Whether you looked at the per-minute average ratings of the programs he’d directed, the profit-and-loss ratio compared to production costs, or the intangible buzz indices.
It wasn’t to that degree.
He didn’t think he lacked skill, but he was definitely being overestimated.
That pressure gradually gnawed away at Kang Seokwoo, and even though the programs he directed afterward were moderate hits, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they had failed.
So he transferred to the channel M Show.
Perhaps he had wanted an excuse.
Low production budgets, lack of channel recognition, difficult casting, and so on.
That was why it was Coming Up Next.
No one expected massive ratings from an in-house survival program at Ryan Entertainment.
But…….
‘In the end, it was all self-justification.’
Having cast off all that pressure and directing a program at M Show, he now understood his own heart.
He didn’t need excuses.
He just wanted to make a more entertaining program.
Even if only by 0.01%, he wanted to raise the ratings; even just once, he wanted to make people trend-search more.
That was why he was heading to LB Studio.
Today was the day Han Sion recorded
Depending on how good this song was, a lot of things would change.
If Han Sion’s song was truly good enough to blow everything else out of the water…….
‘I’ll have to cut a deal with the department head and push Han Sion as the main character of episodes 1 and 2.’
Even if Team B was just backup for Take Scene, and even if Coming Up Next was a program created for Take Scene.
He was heading to the studio to confirm that.
He had heard it during filming, but that had only been the first verse.
Arriving at the studio, Kang Seokwoo witnessed a bewildering scene.
The staff who had come to film the recording process were standing around awkwardly, while Han Sion and Lee Hyunseok were playing around with guitars with bright expressions.
Was he warming up his hands?
Why warm up his hands when he was going to sing?
Just then, Lee Hyunseok spotted Kang Seokwoo, set down his guitar, and rose from his seat.
“Ah, PD-nim. I didn’t see you, so I thought you weren’t coming.”
“The traffic was bad, so I’m a bit late. But what about the recording?”
“It’s finished.”
“It’s finished?”
“Yes.”
“Already?”
“That’s how it turned out.”
Cameras had been installed since 9 a.m., and the main recording had started at 10.
And right now, it was 10:20.
Was he saying the recording had finished in just twenty minutes?
Surprisingly, that was the truth.
According to the camera director, Han Sion had sung
Upon hearing that, Lee Hyunseok had okayed it immediately.
The flustered Kang Seokwoo took the camera director aside.
He was currently filming Coming Up Next, but he had originally spent over five years dedicated to music talk shows as a cinematographer.
Kang Seokwoo didn’t know how deep his knowledge of mass appeal was, but his knowledge of sound was profound.
“Director. You saw Han Sion singing, right?”
“I had to film it, so of course I saw.”
“Was it okay? Can we really wrap filming like this?”
“Hmm……. Right now, Jo Gijeong went out for a smoke.”
At the sudden mention of that name, Kang Seokwoo tilted his head.
“Jo Gijeong? The original singer? He’s here in the studio?”
“I guess Representative Lee Hyunseok called him; he’s been here since early. Anyway, that man went straight to the rooftop to smoke after the recording ended. Why do you think?”
“Surely not because the junior’s song was too good?”
“Hah, no way.”
“Then?”
The camera director glanced around the area and whispered.
“He’s jealous.”
“……!”
“Old-timer singers, they’ve got a lot of grievances. Even if a song’s a massive hit, they can’t earn much money from it.”
“True.”
“The reason those people still hold on is one thing: pride in their own skill.”
“Then……?”
“That pride was shattered. Because some young—no, some kid who’s young, handsome, and bound to rake in money if he succeeds is too good at singing.”
PD Kang Seokwoo waved his hand dismissively.
“Director, tell me exactly. Are you saying it’s complex jealousy? Or jealousy because of his skill?”
“I’m not Jo Gijeong, so I don’t know what he’s most envious of. But…….”
The camera director shrugged and continued.
“If it were me, I think it’d be the latter.”
He couldn’t fully trust the camera director’s words, but at any rate, it meant the recording hadn’t been done sloppily.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Kang Seokwoo was about to review the footage when a man in his mid-fifties appeared, reeking of cigarette smoke.
It was Jo Gijeong, the original singer of
Jo Gijeong approached Han Sion and spoke to him.
“You’re Han Sion?”
“That’s right. Sunbaenim.”
“Sunbaenim? ……Call me sunbaenim like you do with Hyunseok. You learned music on your own?”
“Yes. I picked things up here and there.”
“You seem to play guitar a bit too. Let’s sing a song together. What’s a song you like?”
At that, Lee Hyunseok, who had been listening from the side, cut in.
“Come on, Hyung-nim. If we go full throttle from the start, Sion will feel pressured. Let’s take it slow instead.”
“Slow? How?”
“Hmm……. Want to try having a jam to
“With my song?”
“Wouldn’t it be fun? Ah, let’s do it in Sion’s version. The young vibe is nice, isn’t it?”
Jam, a jazz term, referred to impromptu performance or singing.
Jamming to a specific version of a song was an unusual suggestion, but Jo Gijeong nodded without much thought.
To do an impromptu performance, you needed a section to raise the tension.
And usually, everyone would play a beloved song together to build that tension.
He thought Lee Hyunseok’s suggestion had that kind of vibe.
The camera director, who had been listening to the musicians’ conversation, asked PD Kang Seokwoo.
“PD-nim, what should we do? Set up for a proper shoot?”
“Well…….”
This was a scene unnecessary for the program Coming Up Next.
Han Sion finishes recording and enjoys a pleasant time with the original singer?
If they aired this kind of thing, Han Sion would get flamed instead.
People would ask what the hell he did to the broadcasting station for them to suck up to him so openly.
But recalling that the previous recording had lasted a mere twenty minutes, Kang Seokwoo ordered the filming.
It wasn’t because he wanted the footage; he just thought it would be nice to get shots like busts or close-ups.
In the meantime, Lee Hyunseok went to the counter and brought back the shop part-timer.
“Yeongha. Play some bass. This is my niece, a music college student.”
“What, Uncle? Aren’t we filming right now?”
“We finished filming, so we’re going to play around for a bit.”
“Already finished? Ah, hello. I’m Lee Yeongha, majoring in contrabass.”
With that, once Lee Yeongha took up the bass, Lee Hyunseok sat in front of the drum set.
He wasn’t a great drummer, but he was the only one among those gathered who could play.
“Sion, what do you want to do? Keyboard? Guitar?”
“If Jo Gijeong sunbaenim chooses first, I’ll take whatever’s left.”
“He says so?”
“I’ll take guitar, then.”
“Then I’ll play the keyboard.”
In an instant, a four-piece band of drums, guitar, keyboard, and bass was set up.
“Sion. How do you want me to play the drums? Original tempo?”
“The tempo should stay the same, but it would be nice if you could subdivide the beat a bit more.”
“Okay. What about the bass?”
“Can’t the other instruments just go with the feel?”
“Sure, it’s an impromptu performance anyway.”
PD Kang Seokwoo thought Lee Hyunseok was being strangely proactive, but didn’t think much of it.
After all, Lee Hyunseok had reached out wanting to produce the music for Coming Up Next because of Han Sion in the first place.
It was a kind of fan sentiment.
It was a strange expression considering the career gap between Lee Hyunseok and Han Sion, but.
At that moment, Lee Hyunseok’s drum performance began.
Bum-bum-bum.
— Dum-dum.
It was a textbook drum performance.
At first, the playing proceeded at a steady pace matching the rhythm, then gradually sped up.
In reality, the tempo hadn’t actually increased—he had simply subdivided the notes further—but Kang Seokwoo, who didn’t know much about music, only thought it had gotten faster.
What came next was Han Sion.
The keyboard poured out a melody with an addictive, savory richness.
But it wasn’t a performance that densely packed the staff notation like a typical piano piece.
Though it spilled out pleasant playing, it rested in between, giving the feeling that those empty spaces should be filled with something.
Then the bass came in.
Those who loved band music called the drums the roots and the bass the stem.
Flowers and fruit bloomed upon those roots and stems.
Furthermore, someone once said that a band where the bass sound was grating was a failed band, but a band without bass sound wasn’t a band at all.
To that extent, bass was an instrument where restraint was important, yet indispensable.
Sure enough, once the bass came in, the keyboard melody Han Sion played felt abundantly richer.
Finally, the instant Jo Gijeong’s guitar played the first melody.
Somewhere at the end of a gray alley
—Orange, under the streetlight
Out of nowhere, Han Sion began to sing.