Chapter 55: The Boss of the Game
Friday, December 18, 2015
Michael woke up. Not to the alarm, but to the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand.
He grabbed it, his eyes squinting from the light. It was nine in the morning. His phone was having a crisis.
His tweet from last night ("They told me it was too soft. 12.25.") had exploded.
The screenshot of the 'Look At Me!' waveform—that solid red brick of pure noise—was everywhere. His Twitter feed was a battlefield.
"What is that? Did he break his mic?" "OMG, IT SOUNDS LIKE NOISE. I NEED IT!" "This guy went from 'Drugs' to 'Chainsaw Engine'. I'm here for this." "RIP my speakers. 12.25."
Michael smiled. The hype was palpable. People were confused, intrigued, and excited. It was the perfect reaction.
He had a week. One week until Christmas Day, until the 'Look At Me!' missile hit. A week of anticipation he had manufactured himself.
He got up, feeling strangely calm. The aggressive and chaotic energy of the 'Look At Me!' recording session was still buzzing under his skin. It wasn't the Ethereum anxiety, nor the sadness of his lo-fi songs.
It was power. It was arrogance.
He didn't want to lose that momentum. He wasn't going to spend the week answering comments. He was going to work.
He went to his studio, coffee in hand. He sat in his chair. He had a free week before the world reacted to his new sound. It was the perfect time to load the next bullet in the chamber.
Michael sat in his professional studio. The hype from his tweet ("They told me it was too soft") was a roar in the background of his life. He had a whole week until 'Look At Me!' launched on Christmas Day.
One week. 168 hours.
He couldn't sit still. The energy from the 'Look At Me!' recording session was still burning in him. It was aggressive, chaotic, arrogant energy. He didn't want to waste it.
There was no point in going back to a sad song. Not now. He needed to channel this new confidence.
He ignored the "Problem List". It was the "GO List's" turn.
He summoned the System interface and opened his inventory from the new roulette.
'XO TOUR Llif3': 'No. Too emotional. Not in the mood for that.'
'Save That Shit': 'Guitar. Melancholy. No. Next.'
'Gucci Gang': Michael smiled. It was an option. It was the epitome of viral stupidity. It would be easy to make.
But then he saw its partner.
'Boss'.
It was the perfect partner to 'Look At Me!'. 'Look At Me!' was the chaos of a mosh pit. It was the scream of an angry outcast.
But 'Boss'... 'Boss' was different. It was control. It was cold power. It was for people who wanted something simpler, powerful, aggressive, and to feel like a boss.
It was the song you play when you walk into a place and know everyone is watching you.
'First I give them chaos,' he thought. 'And then I show them who's in charge.'
The day after creating 'Look At Me!', he decided to create its sequel.
He opened a new project in Ableton. boss_v1.
He opened the System guide for 'Boss'. It was so minimalist it was almost an insult.
PRODUCTION GUIDE: 'Boss'
Melody: Dark piano loop (3 notes).
Rhythm: Heavy 808, clean distortion.
Emotional Imprint: Effortless arrogance.
Michael laughed. "Easy."
He went to his sample library, which was now massive thanks to his YouTube earnings. He searched for "dark piano loop".
He found one in less than ten minutes. It was three ominous notes, played slowly, with lots of reverb. Perfect. He dragged it into Ableton.
Now, the drums. The 808.
In 'Look At Me!', he had distorted the 808 until it sounded like a broken engine. But 'Boss' needed to sound heavy, not broken.
He loaded his favorite 808 sample (the "Spinz 808"). Instead of a bitcrusher, he applied a high-quality saturation plugin. He turned the "drive" knob until the bass sounded warm, fat, and with a subtle growl.
Then, he EQed it. He cut the low frequencies so it wouldn't sound muddy, and gave it a little boost in the high-mids so it would "punch" on laptop speakers.
He programmed the simple bass line. Boom... boom... boom-boom-boom.
He added the hi-hats, a fast and steady pattern. He added a simple snare.
He listened to the beat. It was hypnotic. It was arrogant. And it had taken him less than an hour.
He finished the beat before lunch.
He leaned back, listening to the loop. It was ignorant, simple, and absolutely perfect. It was an anthem to feel invincible.
The base was ready. Now, it was time to give voice to the character.
Michael got into the recording booth. The 'Boss' beat played on loop in his headphones: a dark and ominous piano over a heavy and distorted 808.
He wasn't angry, like when he recorded 'Look At Me!'. Today, he felt arrogant. He felt like the boss.
Yesterday, he had recorded the loudest and most chaotic song in his arsenal. Today, he was going to record the coldest and most controlled.
He records the lyrics. He doesn't scream them. He says them with lazy, cold, almost bored confidence. It's the character of someone who doesn't even need to try to be the best.
'Ooh, yeah... Michael! ...Yeah'
He recorded his own ad-lib at the beginning, putting his name on the track. It was a statement of ownership.
He pressed record for the main verse.
'Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh...'
'Yeah, I came in with a saw, yeah...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, yeah...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, yeah...'
His voice was a rhythmic murmur. He wasn't trying to impress. He was stating facts.
'Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh...'
'Yeah, I came in with a saw, ooh...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, yeah...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, yeah...'
He repeated the opening chorus, turning it into a hypnotic mantra.
'Walk in the trap like a boss (ooh)...'
'Walk in the trap like a boss (brr)...'
'Walk in the trap like a boss (ooh)...'
'Walk in the trap like a boss (trap)...'
He stacked his voice on the chorus, recording it four times, creating a chorus that sounded huge, as if a crowd were singing it.
'Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh...'
'Yeah, I came in with a saw, ooh...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, ooh...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, ooh...'
He moved on to the verse.
'Walk in the trap, Ric Flair, ooh...'
'Fuck a nigga bitch, don't care, damn...'
'Throwing up racks in the air, damn...'
'Told that bitch Michael yeah, ooh'...'
He was having fun. It was pure bragging, a character that felt good to play.
'Damn, I just broke my wrist...'
'100 on my wrist, can't tell me shit...'
He looked at his own bare wrist. The irony was delicious.
'Pop 4 xans then I fucked a nigga's bitch...'
'Never went to school 'cause I was always flippin' bricks...'
He laughed while singing that line. It was a blatant lie. He never missed school (his home program). But the character did. The character was a drug lord.
'Aye, yeah I came up with the sauce...'
'Damn, yeah I sold crack in the halls...'
'Damn, Michael, bands on top...'
'Damn, gave my mom 2 Glocks...'
He inserted his own name again. He was building his brand, mixing Lil Pump's fiction with his own identity.
'Damn, everybody do wanna be me...'
'Lookin' at my neck and it's Fiji, ooh...'
'Damn, everybody do wanna be me...'
'Lookin' at my neck and its Fiji, ooh...'
That was the essence of the song. Pure arrogance. The ultimate "flex".
He returned to the final chorus, his voice now a confident purr.
'Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh...'
'Yeah, I came in with a saw, yeah...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, yeah...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, yeah...'
'Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh...'
'Yeah, I came in with a saw, ooh...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, yeah...'
'Bitch, I flex, Rick Ross, yeah...'
He finished the song in a single day. The recording was clean, fast, and effortless. There was no emotional agony. There were no screams tearing his throat apart.
It was just pure and simple confidence.
He stepped out of the booth. The second bullet for his "Hype Era" was ready.
Michael stepped out of the recording booth, the arrogant energy of the 'Boss' character still vibrating in him. The vocal recording was complete.
He sat in his chair. It was time for the mix.
This process was the polar opposite of creating 'Look At Me!'. Yesterday, his goal had been noise and chaos, crushing the mix until it became a distorted brick.
Today, the goal was power and clarity. 'Boss' wasn't a scream. It was a cold statement.
Unlike 'Look At Me!', this mix was professional.
He wanted the beat to sound huge, as if it were in an expensive club, not a mosh pit.
He focused on the vocals first. He used his Neumann microphone, so the take was crystal clear. He added light compression so that every word, even the whispers, hit with the same intensity.
Then, the 808. The bass had to be the protagonist, but it couldn't drown out the vocals. He used the EQ technique he had learned: he "carved" a small hole in the mid frequencies of the 808, creating a perfect "pocket" for his voice to sit in.
The result was a bass that sounded massive, rumbling in the chest, but miraculously let his voice, clear and arrogant, float just above it.
He made the dark piano sound distant, drowning it in reverb, like an echo in the background. The focus was the bass and the voice.
He listened to the result on his Yamaha monitors. It was heavy. It was clean. And it was incredibly catchy. It was a banger made to sound good on car speakers or in a club.
He exported the file: boss_final_master.mp3.
And then... he did nothing.
He looked at the finished file on his desktop. The temptation to upload it, to follow the impulse, was strong. But he held back.
He didn't upload it.
He opened a folder on his hard drive. The folder was named "WEAPONS".
Inside, there was already one file: White_Iverson_final_mix.mp3.
Michael dragged the boss_final_master.mp3 file into the folder, right next to 'White Iverson'.
He leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.
The outside world, his fans, his haters, the critics... everyone was on edge, waiting for the release of 'Look At Me!' on Christmas Day. They were waiting for his next move.
And he, in the silence of his studio, already had the next hit ready.
He was playing chess, not checkers. 'Look At Me!' was the chaotic opening. 'Boss' was the next move, the arrogant takeover.
He had a whole week until 'Look At Me!' even came out.
He looked at the System's "GO List" again.
'Okay', he thought, closing the "WEAPONS" folder. 'Two lists. I have four left on the GO list without samples.'
'What's next?'
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Mike.