Chapter 21

Although Li Mu had always been just a music enthusiast, and playing the guitar in a band during college could only be considered a hobby, he was at least a very serious and long-term enthusiast. He had explored and could clearly distinguish various singers, bands, and styles both domestically and internationally.

Generally speaking, even if a band is still in the stage of imitating others, they shouldn't try every song and every style. This would make them no different from bar bands. Bands that truly want to succeed should first define their style, then absorb as much as they can from that style, and finally, even when covering others' songs, they should be able to play them in their own unique way.

However, what Zhang Kexuan and his bandmates were doing lacked any originality.

"So, do you have any suggestions?" Zhang Kexuan scratched his head, looking a bit embarrassed.

Li Mu shrugged and said with a smile, "If you want to play seriously, everyone should put down their instruments and have a meeting to discuss the style and direction you all lean towards, and then work hard together towards that goal."

As he spoke, Li Mu added bluntly, "If you're just playing for fun and trying out every style, both domestic and international, that's fine too. After all, there are performance bars right at the corner, and you can perform there at night."

These days, in Nanjing, the consumption level was such that a bar band of four people would earn at most 400 yuan for singing for one to two hours a night.

But all four of them were genuine rich second-generation kids, who would look down on such a small amount of money. Moreover, performing in bars was considered very lowbrow to them.

Although the four of them looked unhappy, they couldn't refute Li Mu's words, as they were all true and made perfect sense. Even if they were seething inside, they couldn't argue.

Another guitarist said, "Hey, little brother, you write your own songs, right? Why don't you show us in the recording studio?"

The bassist and drummer also encouraged him, with the drummer saying in a strange tone, "Yeah, show us, let us see the world. Anyone can talk big. These days, there are few who can cook, but everyone is a food critic."

Li Mu looked at the drummer buried in a pile of cymbals and shook his head helplessly. It seemed they weren't convinced. They were just bad, and he didn't want to criticize them, but since they asked, they shouldn't mind the truth. Are all rich second-generation kids so hypocritical?

Then, Li Mu asked the drummer, "Bro, your setup is definitely top-notch, no doubt about it."

As he spoke, Li Mu noticed a hint of pride on the drummer's face, but then he changed the subject, "I won't mention the hi-hat, which every drum set has, but you have 16, 17, and 18-inch crash cymbals, three in total, plus splash, ride, and even Chinese cymbals. But in the three songs you played, you didn't touch any of the five cymbals except the hi-hat and the crash cymbal closest to you. What's your mindset? Are you playing drums or showing off your wealth?"

"You..." The drummer thought Li Mu was flattering him, but he almost spat out a mouthful of black blood when he heard the last part.

Yes, musicians often have this mentality. Regardless of their skill level, they try to get as much equipment as possible, especially those with money, who can't help but show off. They want to buy everything they can, but they rarely use most of it. He had set up so many cymbals just for the visual effect, but his skills couldn't handle them.

Zhang Kexuan no longer underestimated Li Mu. Despite his young age, Li Mu had a sharp eye and a sharp tongue. He could tell the difference between real talent and pretense, and his way of criticizing was ruthless, first praising and then criticizing.

So, Zhang Kexuan tried to smooth things over, "Li Mu, I didn't expect you to be an expert. Let's go to the recording studio."

Li Mu shrugged and said indifferently, "Sure, let's go."

After all, he was here, and if they could act pretentious, why couldn't he?

Once inside the recording studio, Li Mu found the equipment even more professional and impressive. The studio was divided into two rooms behind soundproof glass doors: one for recording vocals and one for recording drums and other instruments that required microphone pickup.

There was also a Martin acoustic-electric guitar, which, in simpler terms, could be plugged in and played through an amplifier. A top-tier Martin guitar costs at least tens of thousands of yuan, truly a sign of wealth.

Zhang Kexuan led Li Mu and the others into the outer room of the recording studio and said, "Take a look. You can use all the equipment here. If you need other instruments, we can help."

"No need to trouble you," Li Mu thought, it was just recording "Zebra, Zebra" for Chen Wan, and it wasn't that complicated. With such a good acoustic guitar, microphone, and mixing equipment, it was more than enough.

So, Li Mu said, "I'll just record it as a vocal and guitar performance."

"Amateur," the drummer sneered. "Vocals should be recorded separately. When you play and sing, the guitar sound will also be picked up by the vocal microphone, degrading the quality."

"You're right," Li Mu nodded and countered, "But it's similar to you not using those five cymbals. If your skills aren't that professional, what's the point of having such professional equipment?"

"Damn..." The drummer almost lost his temper, and Zhang Kexuan quickly gave him a look, saying to Li Mu, "If you think it's fine, let's start."

Li Mu, with a casual attitude, connected the guitar to the equipment, adjusted the microphone, and Zhang Kexuan gave him the OK sign. Everything was set, and they were ready to start.

So, Li Mu began playing the intro of "Zebra, Zebra."

The guys initially thought Li Mu, at his age, couldn't write anything good. But as soon as the simple and melodious fingerstyle intro started, their expressions changed. Regardless of the melody line and guitar arrangement, it showed a certain level of skill, not just the ability to play the guitar, but true arranging skills.

When Li Mu started singing the first line, Zhang Kexuan felt his mind explode. Although he couldn't fully understand the song yet, the slightly hoarse voice, the melody, and the perfect sound of the Martin guitar were enough to amaze him.

Chen Wan was already entranced from the moment the intro started. At Li Mu's place, his guitar was much inferior, and without professional equipment, the sound quality was far worse. Here, with top-tier equipment, listening to the song was like being immersed in the music.

Li Mu completed the song in one go, with no mistakes in his voice or playing. He was very satisfied and stood up, pushing open the soundproof door, and said to Zhang Kexuan, "I think this should be fine. It's just a demo, no need to be too perfectionistic."

Zhang Kexuan looked at Li Mu as if he were a monster, and the drummer... the drummer was blushing.

Chen Wan, who had just come back to her senses, was moved. This was the power of music, creating an atmosphere, drawing you in, and bringing out similar emotions from deep within you, leaving you feeling as if you had been emptied by the song.

Chen Wan clapped her hands excitedly, "You sang so well, really, really well!"

Zhang Kexuan felt embarrassed. Li Mu was only eighteen, and his original song was already so impressive, while he, at twenty-four, hadn't even written a complete song.

Thinking about this, Zhang Kexuan's heart ached.

A few days ago, he had been determined to write a song expressing the anger of the youth towards society. It wasn't surprising, as most rock musicians these days had a similar theme.

The key was that Zhang Kexuan was just an amateur and didn't understand that most people write the music first and then the lyrics. He wanted to write a beautiful, rebellious, and critical lyric first, titled "Mom, Please Take Me Home."

The lyrics he had in mind were: The author was tired of the injustice of society and the coldness of the world, hoping his mother could take him home, away from all the filth.

Unfortunately, he only wrote two lines and then got stuck. Then, his mother saw the draft and scolded him, "You want me to take you home quickly? You're always out, and I can't even find you! Do all rock musicians lie like this?"

That was it; he was already stuck, and his mother's scolding made him give up completely.

At this moment, seeing that the four band members were silent, Li Mu asked, "Can you play it back for me to listen?"

Zhang Kexuan snapped out of it and said, "Sure, sure, wait a moment."

After listening to the playback, not only were the other five satisfied, but Li Mu himself was also very satisfied. He said to Chen Wan, "Wan, this should be fine, right?"

"Yep, perfect!" Chen Wan admired Li Mu more than ever.

"Alright, let's wrap it up. Can you edit and copy it for me, Zhang? No need for post-production."

Zhang Kexuan hesitated for a moment and asked tentatively, "Li Mu, do you... do you have any other original songs?"