“Think you’ll use it on your next album?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he said. “If I can fit it in somewhere. And if I can get good enough with it that I’d want to try laying it down as a track.”
“It’s good to have new challenges musically,” she opined. “Keeps us sharp.”
“I agree,” he said. “Although I really do need to start concentrating on composing some actual tunes as well.”
“You and me both,” she said. “I haven’t picked up a guitar for anything other than performing in months. After things settle down a little, I’m going to lock myself into my room and start strumming some things out.”
“No hurry really for either of us,” Jake said. “We’re both still on the top of the album charts, both still getting a ton of airplay. We still have two more songs to release for radio promotion. Not to sound like a record company suit or anything, but we’ve got at least another year or so before people will start expecting us to come out with something new.”
“True,” she said. “But still, I’ll feel better when I get a few ideas penned out.”
“Yeah, me too,” Jake said. “I have a few older tunes I could work up, and Gordon and I are still planning to put together that duet.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said. “We haven’t been able to actually sit down together since that night that Laura had her little run-in with the sea lion, but...”
Celia giggled into the phone. “That is such an awesome story,” she said. “I still laugh whenever I think about it.”
“Yeah, me too to tell you the truth. That was a hell of a night. Anyway, I’ve been working on my part of the tune and G’s been working on his. We’re gonna get together on Monday night and see what we’ve accomplished.”
“That should be interesting,” Celia said.
“I’m hoping so. Fusing rock and rap together isn’t easy, but I know it can be done.”
“Well, good luck with it. I can’t wait to hear what you come up with. If it’s anything like Step Inside, I’m sure people will love it.”
“That’s the theory we’re operating under.”
“Anyway,” Celia said. “The reason I called: I just listened to the master from Brainwash.”
“Yeah?” he returned. “What did you think?”
“It’s wonderful,” she said, quite honestly. “All ten tracks are muy bien. Masterpieces of composition and engineering. Especially the first cut, the duet.”
“Together,” Jake said. “That’s going to be their breakout hit. That tune is going to put Brainwash on the map.”
“It’s got energy, power,” Celia agreed. “I found myself actually having an emotional reaction as I listened to it.”
“The Nerdlys outdid themselves on that cut,” he said. “Of course, they had good material to work with, but they polished the shit out of that one. I thought Jim and Steph were going to kill them for a little bit there—all those overdub repeats, all the re-takes, all the tweaks on the bridge section—but I got a call from Jim the other day after they all got their master copies. They are quite pleased with the end effort. He said it’s hard to believe they’re even listening to their own shit.”
“So, they’re happy with it then?”
“Ecstatic with it. They can’t wait to hear themselves on the radio, though they’re still thinking that something’s going to prevent that.”
“Why in the world would they think that at this point in the process?” she asked.
“They’ve been told for years they don’t have the right look for success,” he said. “I guess when you’ve been held down so many times you just don’t expect anything else.”
“Well, I can’t wait to show them they’re wrong. What’s the next step?”
“Pauline and I are going to meet with the suits over at Aristocrat on Monday. We’re going to give the master to them and ask them to contract with us for MD&P.”
“And you think they’ll do it?” she asked.
“I think they’ll do it,” he replied. “As my man Don Corleone likes to say: We’re going to make them an offer they can’t refuse.”
Los Angeles, California
October 17, 1994
Jake and Pauline were led into the meeting room on the top floor of the Aristocrat Records building as soon as they arrived. Both were dressed stylishly, but not formally. Jake wore a pair of slacks and a button up dress shirt without a tie. Pauline wore a blouse with a skirt, leather pumps, and no nylons. The suits they were meeting with—Joshua Flag, the head of the A&R department; Miles Crawford, the head of promotions; and James Rigger, the head of New Artist Development—were all wearing suits, of course. This did not make them look like stereotypical businessmen, however. Rigger had a gold stud in his left ear. Flag had hair longer than Jake’s. And Crawford, the oldest of the trio, had on a pair of dark sunglasses even though they were inside and the blinds had been closed.
“Welcome!” greeted Crawford, his phony, ass-kissing grin fixed firmly upon his face. He waved at the table where glasses of ice water and a small snack tray had been laid out. “Have a seat!”
Jake and Pauline took seats across from the suits. They then refused the offer of an alcoholic beverage and/or a few lines of premium cocaine. After that, they engaged in a few minutes of preliminaries, focusing heavily on the success of the Celia Valdez tour and the ongoing sales of both Celia’s and Jake’s albums. From there, they headed into a bit more delicate of a subject.
“I hear your wedding is coming up soon, Jake,” Crawford said.
Jake raised his eyebrows up a bit. God, how he hated dealing with these slimy rats on any level, but he really loathed when they tried to be personal with him. “Where did you hear that?” he asked.
“Oh, word gets around,” Crawford said, not offering any more than that.
“I guess it does,” Jake said sourly.
“I hear it’s to be in Hawaii?” Crawford said. “In early November, correct?”
“That’s right,” Jake confirmed.
“I haven’t received my invitation yet,” Crawford told him. “I’m not sure if I’m free on the date in question, but if I am, I’m always up for a little trip to the tropics.”
Jake stared at the man, fighting to keep his face neutral. Of all the fucking nerve! “I’m sorry, Crawford,” he said. “We’re only inviting friends and family to the wedding.”
Crawford’s grin slipped considerably. “I see,” he said slowly.
“Uh ... what Jake means to say,” Pauline quickly put in, “is that it’s to be a small ceremony, with limited seating, and Jake and Laura both prefer to keep business relationships separate from personal relationships. Right, Jake?”
“Right,” he said. “And speaking of business, how about we get to it? Anyone up for that?”
“Of course,” Crawford said, his little feelers quite obviously injured. Jake didn’t care. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”
“Are you already putting together your next albums?” asked Rigger.
“We have not started on our next albums as of yet,” Jake said. “But we will start on them soon. In the meantime, however, KVA Records has another project we’d like to discuss.”
“Another project?” asked Crawford. “What do you mean?”
Jake looked at him carefully. “Are you really saying you have no idea what I’m talking about?”
“I’m sure I do not,” Crawford assured him. “Should I?”
“I guess not,” Jake said. It seemed that Crawford and his boys did not keep their ears as close to the ground as they liked to imply. True, they had known about his upcoming wedding—had probably heard about it from one of the tour managers who had heard about it by overhearing Celia talk—but they had no idea that Jake and the Nerdlys had just spent the past four and a half months up in Oregon recording and mastering an album.
“KVA Records has signed a new act to our label,” Pauline said, opening her briefcase. She pulled out a copy of the master CD. “They are called Brainwash and they are an experienced touring rock band out of Providence, Rhode Island.”