Gordon got a sly smile on his face. "How was Mindy Snow anyway?" he asked.
"She was manipulative, self-centered, and a consummate liar," Jake told him.
"That's pretty raw," Gordon said.
"She was also about the best lay I've ever had," Jake added, "so I guess the price was almost worth it."
They had a laugh over that.
"Oh well," Gordon said. "The end of this first contract bullshit is now in sight. We're almost done with the album now. It'll be released within a month or so. After that, one more tour and I'm free as a bird."
Jake paused in the drink he was about to take and looked at his guest, wondering if he was deluded. "Free after this album?" he asked. "Isn't this only your third option period?"
"Goddamn right," Gordon said. "That's all they sign us rappers up for."
"Three?" Jake said. "They gave us six. I thought that was the standard industry first contract."
"Not for brothers it ain't," Gordon said. "I can't speak for any of them cracker rappers or the beaner rappers, but the record companies know there ain't no point in signing a brother to any more than three options. That's about the limit of working for 'the man' your audience is going to take. A brother has to go independent, or at least onto an independent label owned by someone else if he gonna maintain his street cred."
"Independent, huh?" Jake said. He had heard of independent labels, naturally, but had never looked too deeply into the subject since he knew it didn't represent true independence, unless you were prepared to buy your own recording studio, manufacturing plant, and distribution network — something that would cost upwards of sixty to seventy million dollars, not including employee payroll.
"The only way to go for a rapper," Gordon told him. "It's hard to be taken seriously if you're rappin' about white power and corporate America and all the injustices of the world and your album is being put out by National fucking Records, which, in case you ain't noticed, doesn't have a single brother workin' at anything above musician level."
"I suppose that's a good point," Jake said, "but isn't the whole concept nothing but a jerk-off? De facto independence? You're still using National Records' recording studio and you're still using their distribution network to get your albums out there. And they're still taking their share of your money, aren't they?"
"It's not quite that bad," Gordon said. "It's okay to use their distribution network as long as you have your own label name on your album and you have independence over what is put on that album. To be considered truly independent you have to be using your own studio — or at least another independent's studio — but as for the distribution of the albums, nobody cares about how that's done. You can use National or Aristocrat as long as that's all you're using them for."
"Hmm," Jake said thoughtfully. "Very interesting. And how much does National or Aristocrat get to take for using their network to get your albums out there?"
"As much as they can squeeze you for," Gordon told him.
"Naturally," Jake agreed. "But what's the going figure?"
"It depends on how popular you are and how much pull you'll have in negotiations," Gordon said. "Since I'm one of the hottest acts on the hip hop scene right now, it wouldn't be unreasonable for them to settle for forty percent of the gross profits from the album sales."
Jake raised his eyebrows. "Forty percent?" he asked.
"Give or take a percentage point or two," Gordon allowed. "If you can get a bidding war going on between two or three record companies, you might be able to get that down as low as thirty-five or so. I heard Ice-T was able to pull down thirty percent, but that might be just a rumor."
"Jesus Christ," Jake said, considering the possibilities. Under their current contract, they were collecting eighteen percent royalties on their album sales. That meant that National Records — their label — was collecting eighty-two percent of their profit. What Gordon was talking about here was changing that equation to the artist collecting up to seventy percent of their own album sale income. Seventy percent! That was more than a tripling of their income.
"I can see you getting all excited about this shit, Jake," Gordon said. "You must be nearing the end of your contract?"
"One more album and we're done," Jake confirmed.
"There are a few things you gotta consider here."
"Like what?" Jake asked.
"Well... first of all, you'll have to record and produce your own albums in your own studio, or at least pay for the time in someone else's. That's all gonna cost you some bank."
"True," Jake agreed.
"You'll also have to pay for everything else that goes along with making an album. You'll have to pay for the manufacturing and the packaging. You'll have to pay for all the shipping and the breakages and the stocking fees. You'll have to pay for advertising and promotion and put your own money up front to finance a tour. You gotta have a certain amount of bank in order to get something like this rolling, or at least have someone willing to bankroll you."
Jake saw where this was leading. "And if you don't sell enough albums to cover the cost of what you're putting out..."
"You'll be one bankrupt motherfucker," Gordon said.
It was a scary thought, but a liberating one at the same time. "So what's your plan?" Jake asked.
"I'm gonna start doing some networking as soon as this next tour is up," Gordon said. "I'm definitely going independent, but I might not be able to afford to step all the way out on my own at first. I'll have to get a bank to loan me a couple mil so I can rent studio time and keep putting food on my table until the income starts to flow. That shouldn't be too hard to do. Bankers are all a bunch of tight-ass whities but they know when there's money to be made. Once I get something recorded I can start negotiating for distribution with the various record companies. They make the agreement and the only thing left to do is pay for the manufacturing and promotion costs. Once the album is out there, the money will start rolling in as soon as the sales start. No more waiting for that quarterly royalty bullshit — not that I've made so much as a dime in royalties yet. I'm still about two hundred grand in the hole on recoupables, and falling faster with every day."
"What about that?" Jake asked. "Will National demand payment in full as soon as your contract expires?"
"Technically, they could," Gordon said. "But with someone as successful as I am, they would probably hold off and use it as a negotiating tool for the distribution contract. I should be able to get forgiveness of the debt as a condition if I sign with National or payment of it if I sign with someone else."
"You seem to know a lot about this," Jake said, quite impressed.
Gordon simply shrugged. "It's my business to know my business, you know what I mean?"
"Yeah," Jake said, nodding. "I think I do."
Gordon ended up staying for another three hours, during which time the two of them smoked eight bonghits of Jake's finest greenbud, put away almost a case of Corona, and completely exhausted the lime supply. They talked a little more about the independent label concept, a lot more about the Mindy Snow relationship ("Does she take it up the ass?" Gordon wanted to know. "And what do them titties of hers feel like? Man, those are some serious fuckin' funbags she got hangin'!"), and even a little about the current clash of powers going on within the band itself.
"I can sympathize with you," Gordon told Jake after being told the reasons why Jake was favoring Charlie over Darren. "I had to do the same thing to a homey of mine once. I didn't like it, still feel like shit about it sometimes, but I did it."
"What happened?" Jake asked.
"It was a brother I went to high school with in East Palo Alto," Gordon said. "He was my DJ when I was doing the clubs in Oakland and San Jose before National signed me. He was pretty good at the turntables you know, but not really the best at it. Still, he was my homey so I kept him on even though there were a few guys who were better than him that offered their services to me once I started to pick up a following.