Rhythm and Ray: A DJ’s Journey

[Chapter 216: Borrowing Power]

"Big Room style fused with Progressive House, 132 BPM, F minor, with lyrics that deliver an electrifying pop vibe. The song is called Power." Hardwell stared at Ryan, slightly dazed.

♫ I'll fill you up with bones that can never break

Take you to a darker shade of grey

Warm you like a sun that'll never fade

Oooh, ooh

This is power, this is power ♫

Hardwell recited a few lines in English.

R3HAB quickly reached out and asked him to sit down.

"Where did you find that? It's actually pretty catchy," chimed in the snarky, tall guy, Afrojack, chuckling.

"I didn't copy it. It's the lyrics; it just came pouring out of me," Hardwell pointed to his head.

"This song fits you perfectly, Ryan. It could definitely be a hit," Hardwell said excitedly, slapping the glass-topped table.

"Ryan is busy. With your current level, you can't work with him just yet," Afrojack quickly shook his head, taking it upon himself to refuse for Ryan.

Having heard Hardwell's previous work, he thought Hardwell still needed a lot of technical growth and had merely imitated a couple of Ryan's songs roughly.

"Why can't we collaborate? Once I sign a contract, I'd be one of his artists. Isn't that acceptable?" Hardwell countered, his stubbornness flaring up.

Afrojack glanced at Ryan, feeling a bit embarrassed. "This is just how he usually talks."

"Why shouldn't I speak like that? Ryan is about the same age as me, and electronic music isn't the traditional record industry. Why all these rules and regulations?" Hardwell added.

"Right, everything you say is true," Afrojack nodded repeatedly, knowing it was best to appease Hardwell.

"Ryan is a bit busy; he can't tinker with all those effects for you all day." Afrojack adjusted his approach.

Hardwell nodded, seemingly convinced, then said, "I'll just call him later when he's off."

Now R3HAB couldn't help but chuckle, "Is Ryan supposed to ditch his family and spend the night time with you? Don't you think the boss's lady will hold that against you?"

"After Ryan finishes with his lady, I can call afterward, right?" Hardwell suggested a new plan.

"Clever!" R3HAB shrugged, reluctantly giving Hardwell a thumbs-up.

Ryan sized up this naive guy. "Actually, I have time during the day. No need to wait until bedtime to call me. Get started on that demo; I'll listen to it afterward."

"I'm on it!" Hardwell got back to his feet but staggered a bit, perhaps from standing too fast or from a bit too much to drink.

He wobbled his way out of the party area.

...

"What can this clueless guy even create?" Afrojack shook his head in disbelief.

"He's usually pretty isolated; sometimes he's at his computer for days on end," R3HAB laughed.

"R3HAB is different, though. He's got talent; Ryan, I truly think you should focus on him," Afrojack suggested to Ryan.

"I'd treat anyone at Bad Room with the same equality. A chef isn't going to change the menu just because today's potatoes are round instead of square," Ryan stated matter-of-factly.

This was both an evaluation of Hardwell and a remark about the two men he was with.

"Absolutely right! It's all about perspective," Afrojack chuckled, raising his drink again.

"It's getting late. I'll excuse myself now; you should return tomorrow and pack up. Someone will be in touch soon," Ryan concluded, rising.

"Got it. I won't inform Spinnin', considering your connection run deeper than mine," Afrojack followed suit, along with R3HAB.

"Are there any issues on Spinnin' side?" Ryan asked back immediately.

"Not much, really. They've just treated me well, offered me some nice perks. I feel a bit awkward bailing on them," Afrojack replied sheepishly.

Most likely, he had made some commitments, but that didn't matter here; Hardwell wasn't crucial to Ryan's plans.

...

The next morning, before dawn had broken, the three were awakened by the ringing phone.

"Who is calling at this hour?" Daddario murmured, half-awake, instinctively nudging closer to Ryan.

"Teresa, please grab the phone," Ryan groaned, forcing his eyes open to check the dim light outside.

Ryan's phones were charging on the bedside table, separated by a sleepy Teresa.

In her position, Teresa slowly stretched out her arm, feeling around until she finally grabbed the ringing phone, pulling it away from the charger to give it to Ryan.

Seeing the unfamiliar number, Ryan wondered, Who is calling me this early?

He answered, and immediately recognized Hardwell's excited voice on the other end.

"Ryan, the demo is ready! When will you wake up? I can bring it over now!" Hardwell's enthusiasm was evident.

I'm already awake!

"Bring it over now," Ryan sighed.

...

"What?" Daddario couldn't help but ask after hearing Ryan's reply.

"The demo; I met a DJ yesterday who said he'd write me a song," Ryan replied, setting his phone down and struggling to sit up.

At that moment, Teresa decided to sit up too. "Teresa, you can sleep a bit longer. You ran around with Ryan all day yesterday; I'll handle things," Daddario insisted, throwing off the blanket and getting out of bed.

"It's just a demo; none of us can really help right now, so you should catch up on sleep," Ryan said as he began dressing.

"I'm not tired; I napped all afternoon yesterday," Daddario countered, also starting to put on her clothes.

"You have to work, how can you not eat something? I'll grab something from the kitchen," Daddario said, already heading out.

...

Before she could make it back, there came a knock at the main door.

"The door isn't locked!" Ryan called, wiping his face.

Hardwell tiptoed into the room, having not slept a wink all night. His first glance landed on Ryan before taking in the expansive suite.

So this is what the wealthy live in! Hardwell silently admired.

"Go to the study; there's a computer in there," Ryan directed, closing the bedroom door behind him.

"Okay," Hardwell replied quickly, noticing someone laying in bed and catching a glimpse of their golden hair spilling out from the covers.

That must be Ryan's fiancee, the country music singer Taylor, he thought to himself.

...

As Ryan and Hardwell entered the study, Ryan powered on the computer, and Hardwell plugged in his USB drive.

"Didn't sleep?" Ryan noted Hardwell's bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair.

"No way I could; what if I forgot everything after sleeping?" Hardwell chuckled.

He could only record the main melody; the details couldn't be noted down.

"Did you take something?" Ryan asked, sensing he was a bit too energized.

Hardwell shook his head. "But I did down four cans of Red Bull."

"You know the basic rule after coming to Bad Room, right?" Ryan reminded him.

"Of course, refuse all drugs. I don't even touch cigarettes; those things mess with my creativity."

Ryan put on headphones and listened carefully.

Initially, there were only crisp synth sounds underscored by Hardwell's pitchy vocals, which seemed underwhelming. However, as it progressed, with two loud shouts of "Power," the entire song transformed, and a strong, heavy bass synth unleashed powerful energy. The unique timbre lured you into a space that felt both classic and impressively bright, like the arena of ancient Rome.

Ryan replayed it several times, then glanced at Hardwell, whose clueless expression somehow appeared likable.

This wasn't just a clueless player; Hardwell was a golden goose.

"Layered with saw waves, sidechain compression, delays, reverb, and glide effects, along with added layers to make it sound rich and full; you executed these very well," Ryan nodded.

"Just imitated; I lifted some of your stuff," Hardwell admitted, scratching his head, feeling bashful about being praised like this for the first time.

"But compared to my songs, the lead part has an added touch of brightness. How did you manage that?" Ryan asked, realizing this was a blind spot for him.

"You saw right through me. I spent a whole three hours finding that effect, and guess what? I ended up using a simple equalizer. I cut back on the low frequencies and boosted the mid-high frequencies between 2,000Hz and 6,000Hz -- that's how I found the sound I had in mind," Hardwell explained, as if connecting with a kindred spirit.

"Found the sound in your mind?"

"Yeah, like a flash of inspiration! It was my first time experiencing that, but it passed so quickly, I didn't capture much. So, this song still has big gaps. What's showcased in the demo is about all I've got," Hardwell nodded.

Hardwell's description echoed the feeling of a reduced version of his experience.

Ryan had previously wondered why Taylor had written so many more incredible songs after meeting him. It was like a creative explosion, one great hit after another.

Now, Hardwell's experience reaffirmed his earlier theory -- his glimpse of insight could affect others, but only to an extent.

Whether it was Taylor or Hardwell, the new songs had distinct personal imprints -- they merely bring forward the future songs.

More like borrowing power. And it was less than his experience.

Wouldn't that mean he could gain more songs from himself eventually?

Ryan looked over at Hardwell, smiling. "You can sit down."

"Sure thing!" Hardwell eagerly complied.

"What do you mean by the gaps you mentioned earlier?"

"Just... that disconnected feeling. I have no ideas for what comes next," Hardwell replied honestly.

"This is more than plenty; I'll fill in the rest. Where's the project file?" Ryan opened up the music software.

"It's in another folder," Hardwell said, obviously excited to be making music alongside Ryan.

"How about you guys eat first? I'll leave it here for now." Daddario spoke up as she appeared at the door.

"Let's leave it here," Ryan was already in the zone, too focused to think about food now.

Hardwell eagerly stood up, taking the plate from Daddario and added, "Thank you, miss server."

"Server?!" Daddario shot him a glare, clearly irritated.

*****

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