Rhythm and Ray: A DJ’s Journey

[Chapter 61: Balancing Soft and Hard]

"Do you know her?" Scooter suddenly realized something. "Yeah," Ryan replied casually.

"So, you're her little boyfriend? You never mentioned that before." Scooter had already been surprised multiple times during this phone call.

"Well, I guess you could say that," Ryan said.

"Have you told Scott about this?" he asked next.

"Not yet, I just got inspired," Ryan responded.

"How long will it take to produce the demo?"

"Two days, maybe three. It won't take too long," Ryan assured him.

"Let me know as soon as your demo is ready."

"What for?" Ryan asked.

"To help you negotiate a deal. Ryan, I know you might be getting along well with Taylor. She's also a hot new name, but remember, don't let love cloud your judgment. This is a business negotiation. The profits from this song could last for years, and how long can you two date? Maybe just a few months," Scooter analyzed.

He didn't ask about the new song details, assuming that Ryan was writing a love song for Taylor Swift, which was quite common.

"I'll give you a heads-up when the time comes."

"Remember, don't mention anything about the new song to Taylor," Scooter reminded him.

...

Ryan took this advice with a grain of salt. If it weren't for Taylor helping him find a lawyer, he probably would have gotten locked into a bad contract with Scooter. He knew who he could actually rely on.

So, Ryan turned around and called Taylor.

"Aren't you training? You need to focus," Taylor laughed from the other end.

"Well, to be honest, Abigail isn't around, so I'm replacing her with you," Ryan replied playfully.

"Get outta here."

"I'm not joking. I have something serious to say. I have a new song, and I think it's pretty good. Actually, it's really good," Ryan exclaimed.

"You have a new song? Wait, that was quick!?" Taylor was momentarily stunned.

In her eyes, Ryan's songwriting ability was unpredictable; he had made both terrible songs and hit tracks. Clearly, he was currently in the latter phase.

"It was like, during a test, all of a sudden, bam!" Ryan said, exaggerating a bit.

"And I want you to sing it," Ryan added. He naturally thought this would make for good promotion.

"Provided that my song suits your voice," he quickly added.

Upon hearing this, Taylor's excitement waned a bit, and she asked skeptically, "Does it really suit my style? What kind of song is it?"

"You'll know once the demo is finished."

"Alright, I'll wait for your good news. Do you need a recording studio? I can ask Nathan to help you out." Taylor impulsively took on the "supportive friend" role.

"Actually, that's unnecessary. I can manage everything in my bedroom." Ryan had set up quite a bit of professional equipment lately, heading toward becoming a "bedroom producer."

"Okay, just let me know if you need anything."

Finally, Ryan mentioned that Scooter was coming to Nashville for negotiations.

"That's no big deal. It's common for singers from different companies to collaborate. The profits can be split fifty-fifty. If you need to ask for a bit more, go ahead; I can even guest star for free," Taylor added, "Right now, you're the only one with this privilege. Others come begging for collaborations, but I don't budge. I'm not exaggerating."

"Then let's stick to the industry standard -- fifty-fifty," Ryan decided.

"Why?"

"You don't mind, but what if Scott does? What if he makes things difficult for you because of this?" Ryan said, looking out for Taylor.

"You've thought this through. He's just a manager; there are plenty of people who can replace him. The best collaborator for this song is only me, simple as that," Taylor said calmly.

"In the future, whatever I give you, you can't refuse," she added before hanging up.

...

"Did you finish?" the voice on speakerphone belonged to Dead Mouse, sounding a bit anxious.

He received a call from Ryan a few hours ago and was forced to stay up. If he didn't have the habit of staying up late, he would probably have fallen asleep.

"Not quite yet," Ryan shook his head, feeling somewhat defeated.

It was already three-thirty in the morning. After getting home, he had immediately started trying to produce the melodies. Even with the universal sound effects plugin developed by Dead Mouse, he still couldn't perfectly recreate the sound in his mind.

Right now, Ryan's eyes were bloodshot, his consciousness somewhat muddled, but he hadn't given up.

"You're a madman!" Dead Mouse said, half-amused.

To Dead Mouse, Ryan's behavior was "crazy," determined to achieve his goal no matter what.

Perhaps only a lunatic like him could create hits such as Tremor and Harlem Shake, Dead Mouse pondered. He had to admit, Ryan was a bona fide genius. Tremor had a simple yet effective structure, formally pushing electronic music a step closer to pop. Previous electronic music had never deemed itself close to pop, especially Tiesto, known for his acid house and techno music that defied mainstream appeal. Yet, even he started imitating Ryan's Tremor in the latest remixes.

As for Harlem Shake, it perfectly fused trap music elements with electronic, opening doors to parts of the black music market. It could be said that Ryan had surpassed DJ Khaled's entire career with one track. The most astonishing part? Ryan had been in the electronic music sphere for less than three months!

"You're in terrible shape. I suggest you go to bed now and continue tomorrow," Dead Mouse suggested. If Ryan's health deteriorated, it wouldn't just be his problem; it would be a loss for the entire electronic music community.

"Tomorrow would yield the same outcome," Ryan acknowledged. This wasn't about his physical state; it stemmed from the richness of sounds in his mind that were too complex to recreate.

"About what I mentioned earlier... if possible, can it be put on the shelves this week?"

"What thing?" Ryan was feeling a bit disoriented.

"Put the saw wave plugin in the FL software store." Dead Mouse said. As a technical genius, he had developed a brand-new plugin that could apply saw wave tones to sound, much like applying a unique filter to a photo. Considering how booming Tremor was in Europe and the preciousness of this sound, the plugin was likely to sell well. However, since Ryan had developed this sound, his consent was necessary.

"Are we going seventy-thirty?" Ryan asked, nodding his head.

"It's my seventy to your thirty!" Dead Mouse realized that Ryan wasn't disoriented when it came to money.

"Alright, I'll back off a bit. Let's do sixty-forty then."

"Fifty-fifty!" Dead Mouse gritted his teeth.

"Let's settle on that then." Ryan nodded. No matter what, Dead Mouse was a technical powerhouse, and Ryan knew he would need him in the future.

"Get some sleep. I'll contact you before the plugin officially launches," Dead Mouse said before hanging up.

...

Ryan thought for a moment and then called Joel. It was already three-thirty in the morning. After several attempts, he finally woke him up.

About forty minutes later, a pajama-clad Joel arrived downstairs at Ryan's place.

"Have you been working on it until now?" Joel yawned, glancing at Ryan's disheveled appearance and realizing this guy hadn't slept at all.

"I need to nail down this sound." Ryan tossed an empty energy drink can into the trash.

"What sound? Tell me about it." Joel remarked, somewhat amused -- no one just succeeds effortlessly.

Ryan did his best to describe the sound.

"Is it a little vintage yet modern at the same time?" Joel suddenly asked.

"Exactly."

"Does it sound similar to an electric piano?"

"Yeah, yeah, exactly."

Joel shook his head, "Does it have rich layers to it?"

"Totally," Ryan responded vigorously.

Joel rubbed his chin, "I think I know what synth you're talking about -- the Roland JP-8000. You know it?"

Ryan shook his head. He only knew about the Roland 808 and 909, which he had heard from Joel previously.

"I have an eighty percent chance that the sound you described comes from the Roland JP-8000. However, these synths are quite rare. I'll call a few contacts tomorrow to see if they can help you out," Joel offered.

Even though he had told an inappropriate joke in front of black people and his music production skills were average, he had one irreplaceable advantage -- hardware expertise.

Dead Mouse specialized in software, while Joel took care of hardware. Together, they formed Ryan's technical team.

"Ryan, Ryan?!" Joel noticed Ryan had suddenly slumped over his desk, unmoving.

"Shit! He's not dead, is he?" Joel walked over to check Ryan's breathing.

Fortunately, he had just fallen asleep.

Joel moved Ryan to bed, picked up the headphones, and played a demo Ryan had partially finished.

Although the song hadn't found its perfect sound yet, Joel listened for a few seconds and was compelled to take off the headphones, stunned for a moment before carefully putting them back on.

"This... this isn't possible." Joel initially thought he'd opened the wrong file.

Because he distinctly heard instruments with a country music vibe. In varying styles, crossing genres was exceptionally tricky, and only a few succeeded. If one truly accomplished it, they were bound to be heralded as the founder of a new genre, and it seemed that Ryan was that pioneer.

Joel even pulled up the page for Daft Punk and found no new releases. Otherwise, he would have certainly assumed Ryan was influenced by their latest track.

Joel turned to look at Ryan sleeping on the bed.

You're creating history! Joel grinned, and it would have been disingenuous to say he wasn't envious. Ryan had unknowingly become an artist capable of rivaling Daft Punk!

And yet, he... 'At least I provided some assistance now. Without me, this song wouldn't exist. I could be a historical figure too!' Joel reassured himself.

*****

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