"In certain moments, when performing certain works, emotion is far more important than technique."
"Eighty years ago, there was a failed painter with a silly mustache. He never studied public speaking, but relying solely on the power of raw, infectious emotion, he started the biggest war in human history."
T-Ray nodded repeatedly as he listened. A kid from the ghetto might not catch the historical reference, but he understood the point Phil was making.
Although Take Me to Church demanded high vocal skill, breaking into the market had little to do with hitting the perfect note.
The key was how to provoke the emotions of the underclass, the outcasts, the junkies, and the marginalized!
Phil walked into the recording booth and whispered a few words into Leon's ear.
Smart people don't need long-winded explanations; sometimes, a single look is enough.
When Phil stepped out, Leon unleashed everything he had. The emotional gauge was maxed out.
It was like the golden age of rock in the 80s—like Guns N' Roses belting out Knockin' on Heaven's Door or Welcome to the Jungle.
No technique, just pure, unadulterated feeling!
We've a lot of starving faithful
That looks tasty
That looks plenty
This is hungry work
When the song ended this time, T-Ray and George stayed silent. Phil, however, stood on the side, clapping enthusiastically.
"Good job, kid! That was brilliant!"
T-Ray and George looked at each other. They weren't sure if the market would accept this kind of raw performance, but out of respect for Phil's professional judgment, they chose to trust him.
"This song is going to sell like crazy!" Phil hugged Leon warmly, looking even more excited than T-Ray. "Such a masterpiece... wasted on a cheapskate like T-Ray."
"Maybe... I hope you're right, bro," T-Ray said with a bitter smile.
As a producer focused on gangsta rap, his understanding of the pop music market was obviously not as sharp as Phil's.
The pop market had gone through the dominance of hard rock in the 80s, the awakening of gangsta rap in the 90s, and the wave of boy bands and love ballads in the new millennium.
In this increasingly diverse landscape, the days of a single genre ruling the charts were gone.
Finally, T-Ray gritted his teeth and said to Leon, "Since Phil vouches for your performance, I have no choice but to trust you for now, you cunning piece of white trash."
"So, once post-production is done, the first run will be 5,000 cassette tapes and 2,000 CDs. Vinyl... let's forget about that for now."
These numbers were way below Leon's expectations. He saw right through T-Ray's mindset.
It was a lottery ticket, after all. For an average amateur singer, this distribution volume would be decent.
But Leon had big ambitions for Take Me to Church. He just wanted to make money as fast as possible to escape his current life, and he wasn't willing to let T-Ray's stinginess hurt his bottom line.
To build hype, they'd have to give away a thousand tapes for free as promo, which meant the number of higher-profit CDs available for sale would be pitifully low.
So, he spoke bluntly: "Man, you are cheaper than Scrooge McDuck. Who the hell buys cassettes anymore? It's practically an antique format."
"You should have enough confidence in our work."
T-Ray glanced at George behind him and said, "Cut the crap, white boy. This volume isn't small for a rookie. If it sells, I'll order a reprint."
"Remember this! You just used your throat. I'm the one spending cold, hard cash!"
"Do you know how much it costs me to print these? Enough to keep me entertained with high-end hookers on Manhattan Beach for months without repeating a single face!"
Leon was rendered speechless. If he wasn't broke as a joke, he would have funded it himself. Would he really let this guy lecture him if he had his own cash?
Talking business with these guys was like talking to a brick wall!
After signing his name on the contract, Leon left the recording studio.
The music video shoot was scheduled for two days later.
If everything went smoothly, in about two weeks, he would hold his first autograph session as a singer at Betsy Head Park in Brownsville.
This would officially mark the release of the Take Me to Church record.
---
As Leon walked down the street with his guitar on his back, a car horn suddenly blasted behind him.
"Fk you, man!"
The locals in the hood loved their car horns. Even if the road was wide enough for two tanks to drive side-by-side, they'd honk just to mess with pedestrians.
Having lived in Brownsville long enough, Leon naturally fired back an insult.
Only then did he realize the person honking at him was Phil Bryan, driving a black Chevrolet Camaro.
The car looked a bit old, hardly fitting for the former General Manager of Epic Records.
"Street Jesus, need a ride home?"
"Fk, don't call me that stupid nickname," Leon spat lightly. "I'm good, Mr. Phil. I don't live far."
"I see your shoes are pretty beat up. Not very fitting for a recording artist..."
Through the Camaro's windshield, Leon saw Phil waving a stack of bills at him.
Leon was already pissed about T-Ray's stinginess—the contract didn't even include a symbolic signing bonus.
So, facing the temptation of cash, he didn't think twice before hopping into the passenger seat.
"To be a successful singer, having good music isn't enough. You have to know how to package yourself."
"Having taste and style increases your value. I predict you're going to be successful, so you need to start learning how to dress the part now. At the very least, you can't look like a bum."
With that, Phil handed over the cash.
Leon practically snatched the money from his hand, counting it with the greedy eyes of a jackal.
A full 1,000 dollars!
Since crossing over, he had never held this much money at one time!
Phil narrowed his eyes and smiled. "Take the money. Buy yourself a decent outfit."
"By the way, remember to buy a new phone. I need to be able to contact you anytime."
Leon's money-drunk brain quickly sobered up as he realized something: Why is Phil doing all this for me?
The guy was just here today as T-Ray's old friend to give some advice. Even if Take Me to Church became a massive hit, Phil wouldn't see a dime of it.
He asked tentatively, "I really appreciate your generosity, Mr. Phil... but I can't believe you're just giving me this much money for nothing."
"Don't overthink it. I simply admire your talent, and I like dealing with young people like you."
Leon thanked him repeatedly, the corners of his mouth curling up into a cunning smile.
Just out of admiration? Giving away a grand for free?
That kind of ghost story might fool an honest fool, but not Leon.
In the capitalist world, there are no free lunches. Everything "free" has a price tag hidden somewhere in the fine print.
But even so, Leon accepted the 1,000 dollars without hesitation.
Whatever the guy's motive was, he'd take the money first and worry later.
In his current situation, refusing cash would be a crime!