Chapter 6

Cursed Idol Chapter 6

* * *

I believe in the power of music.

That's why I believe good music will inevitably succeed.

To be honest, this isn't a matter of belief.

It must be so.

If not, wouldn't my long regression be a meaningless wandering relying on luck?

That's why I dedicated a lot of time to honing my composition skills, and now I think they are complete.

It doesn't mean every song I write will be a hit.

It means no one can express the music I imagine better than I can.

But what I'm imagining now isn't a certain melody or sound.

It's friends.

First, the drummer of GOTM.

Andrew Gun.

I played the drums while thinking of Andrew Gun's usual demeanor.

Dum dum dum dum!

Andrew is serious and solemn, but he likes funky music.

While most drummers prefer the kick drum or snare drum, this guy is unique in that he loves the hi-hat.

Moreover, his sense of rhythm is top-notch.

When he plays with ghost notes and suddenly bursts into a thunderous sound, it's breathtaking.

Since I can't play the drums, I used a virtual instrument.

Zing-!

I played the electric guitar with the feel of guitarist Dave Logan.

What can I say about this guy? A kind cynic?

His head is full of negative thoughts, but he is kind in his relationships with people.

Even when everyone in the world is talking about us winning a Grammy and wondering how many awards we'll win...

"We won't get it. We're not the kind of band the Grammys like."

He was the type who had already resigned himself to never winning an award.

Dave's guitar is loud.

Even though the guitar is the most prominent instrument in a band, I've never seen anyone as loud and prominent as Dave.

A showboating cynic.

Once, I tried to get him to play chords by giving him the second guitar, but he happily strummed while doing air swings.

A weirdo.

But, that's why he's a perfect fit for the guitar, often called a six-string orchestra.

Next, I incorporated the feel of the bassist and keyboardist.

It wasn't particularly difficult.

Surprisingly, when I started composing, I thought it would be a funky song, but as I made it, it turned out to be a rhythmic one.

With electronic sounds at the center, it might sound funky to the public.

But when considering the composition's intent, the difference between funk and rhythm is as vast as the difference between heaven and earth.

It seems like a good song for dancing?

I didn't plan to make idol music, but adding a simple and addictive top line to the pre-chorus and chorus would fit well.

Since it's already moving away from funk, it might be good to take the overall rhythm in a two-four (2-4) direction.

I know that black music rhythms are popular in Korea at this point.

Maybe this could be my idol debut song.

I believe in singing the song myself to commemorate my past life, rather than giving it to someone else.

That's how the sounds began to stack up.

* * *

Lee Hyun-seok, the owner of LB Studio, was a successful producer in the early 2000s.

Some of the songs he produced are well-known to the general public.

However, he decided to retire when idol music, armed with catchy hooks, began to dominate the music industry.

Perhaps he was behind the times, but the idol songs he created simply didn't sell.

Even the few that did sell ended up failing miserably.

It was natural for a producer who had fallen behind the times to use the money and connections he had built to open a studio.

Starting his life as a studio owner was quite good.

First, business was thriving.

With a fuller wallet, he felt more at ease, and helping talented indie musicians made him a respected figure in the scene.

The number of business cards from entertainment companies, asking for recommendations of musicians, also grew.

Lee Hyun-seck came to the studio on a weekend due to his part-time worker's persistent calls.

He was shouting that a monster had appeared.

"Uncle!"

"Call me Mr. Lee in the store."

"Mr. Lee!"

"...Why?"

"Listen to this quickly. It's crazy!"

As he took the monitoring headphones from his nephew, Lee Hyun-seck had mixed thoughts.

First, there's no way a boy named Han Si-on could be a real monster.

There are over ten well-known entertainment companies in Korea, and at least twenty more whose artists are known even if the companies aren't.

About twenty companies are profitable, and another twenty are barely surviving.

This means there are a huge number of companies that train singers.

Even if we only count the established companies, the number would be in the hundreds if we include startups.

These companies are eagerly looking for talented young people.

A twenty-year-old monster?

There's no way such a person would rent a studio privately.

They would already be signed to a company.

However, the fact that his nephew is a music student was a concern.

Even though he's still a student, he has chosen music as his career.

He wouldn't be impressed by subpar music.

'But he does say that the albums of the idols he follows are terrible.'

With these conflicting thoughts, Lee Hyun-seok began to listen to the music coming from the headphones.

It was exactly five minutes.

What shocked Lee Hyun-seck was:

"Crazy, what is this?"

"Amazing, really amazing?"

"Wait, let me listen more."

But Lee Hyun-seck's shock didn't subside.

It only intensified.

It's astonishing how well he plays, but even more astonishing is the diversity he creates.

How can one person produce such a wide range of sounds and feelings?

The moment he heard the soft guitar melody, an album cover came to mind.

A clear blue sea lapping against a white sandy beach, a refreshing sound.

Suddenly, the guitar riff changes to a sharp, piercing feeling.

It's incredibly aggressive.

It feels like a fencing sword attacking the vital points, so sharp it makes you gasp.

No matter what drums are added, the guitar riff will be the star.

If I loop it and add some drums, then throw it to rappers, it would cause a sensation.

Just as he was thinking this, the bass playing came through.

He thought it was Victor Wooten's performance.

It was so groovy that it was hard to believe a Korean had played it, except for the occasional missed notes.

What's even more surprising is that these diverse changes happened without any clear reference point.

The lack of an external reference point means there is an internal one.

In other words, while his technique might not be perfect, he is already a complete musician mentally.

'A superhero has appeared!'

He believed that a superhero on a white horse would eventually appear in the Korean indie scene.

But that superhero is in his studio.

"Except for a short nap on the sofa in the break room, he worked on the song for over 30 hours... It's crazy."

"Handsome? Twenty years old?"

"Yeah, he looks like an idol."

"You... didn't steal the code, did you?"

"Crazy?! No!"

It happens sometimes.

People take melodies or chords they hear in the studio and use them.

If such rumors spread, the studio will go bankrupt.

Lee Hyun-seck asked this not because he thought his nephew had stolen the code, but because he wanted to take it himself.

The melodies were so good that he wanted to claim them as his own.

He asked to control himself.

"Uncle, remember when the entertainment company came and said they wanted to form a band and asked for a recommendation?"

"Yeah."

"Let's recommend him! He's crazy!"

"..."

The company will definitely sign him.

But do they really need someone who makes this level of music?

The company only said 'band,' but the omitted word is obvious.

(Idol) band.

Where appearance is more important than performance, and variety shows are more important than composition.

Would such a position suit this friend?

If I just give him a little support, he could become an amazing producer.

If he wants to be a star himself, he can form an indie band.

To become a superstar in the Korean market, he would need the power of broadcasting.

But completing his music and going to the broadcasting world is a completely different issue from becoming a trainee at an entertainment company.

'He must have focused on playing, so he probably can't sing. If I find an amazing vocalist...'

Becoming a famous sibling musician is not an impossible dream.

Just as Lee Hyun-seck was thinking this, Han Si-on appeared at the door of Studio A.

His nephew was right.

He is handsome.

Even though he looks tired from working all night, he has a charming face.

Han Si-on approached the desk and spoke.

"Can I order delivery here?"

"Ah, yes. You can eat in the break room..."

"Thank you."

"Hey, student!"

"Yes?"

His voice is good too.

He might have some vocal ability.

"I'm the owner here. Where did you learn music?"

"Self-taught."

"Self-taught? How is that possible?"

"Yes, well, I just did it."

"Are the songs you played self-composed? Do you have a composition session?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing, I just like to help talented musicians..."

"Thank you, but I'm fine."

He's cool.

I've approached many musicians, but this is the first time I've gotten this reaction.

Even if he doesn't know I was a producer, I'm the owner of a big studio.

Then his nephew interjected.

"My uncle made that. Toothbrush!"

A representative Korean rock ballad from the early 2000s, which won a major music award.

It has been remade many times and is often chosen in audition programs, so even today's students know it.

Sure enough, Han Si-on's eyes changed slightly.

Maybe I seemed like a fraud because I approached him so boldly, amazed by his talent.

"Do you have a contract with any company?"

"No, I don't."

"Then I might be able to help you. I'm not suggesting you sign with a company I know."

At that moment, Han Si-on, who was thinking about something, spoke.

"Then, the poster over there."

"Poster?"

Lee Hyun-seck turned his gaze and saw a poster next to the entrance.

But he didn't know what it was.

The owner doesn't pay attention to such things.

He just tells the part-time workers to put it up when a package arrives and take it down when the period is over.

"Can you recommend me? They said getting a recommendation means passing the first round."

"Of course, of course."

It's probably a poster for a composition competition organized by the Seoul city government, a large practical music school, or a small agency.

A smile naturally appeared on his face.

It seems this young genius hasn't fully realized the extent of his talent.

As Lee Hyun-seck thought this, he looked at the poster Han Si-on was pointing to.

He thought he had seen it wrong.

He looked again.

But it was still the same.

In the end, Lee Hyun-seck couldn't help but speak his true thoughts.

"Wh-Why this... this ridiculous thing...?"

Oh.