"I Got What You Need" is a tale of a rising music producer/artist and his encounter/experience with members of a boy bands. In the tale, the producer (and some of the members of the boy bands, are discovering and responding to their sexual identities, as well as dealing with the pressures of fame and, in the case of said producer, racial concerns.
The following tale is a written record of thoughts running rampant in my imagination that I wish to share with the world - in other words, none of the following is true (and if it is, I don't know about it). Any personalities or entities that parallel any real individual(s) ought not be taken as factual information, but should be recognized purely as a creation of the author.
If anyone is reading this, and alternative material is personally objective to you, or illegal in your area, immediately stop reading and leave. If this doesn't apply to you, feel welcome to respond with praise and/or criticism.
I Got What You Need (Part I)
Thomas "JPEG" Dublin
I sat in my apartment waiting for a call from management. I took another attempt at the glass of iced tea sweating on my kitchen counter, but to no avail - I was so nervous that I couldn't even swallow.
I was waiting for Jive Records to contact me about possibly producing some songs for *NSYNC. I've never wrote or produced for a pop band before, and my management felt that I was going in over my head when I suggested working with *NSYNC. I've mostly done work with R&B and Hip/Hop artists, so management assumed that I might not be able to handle them.
I went off in Sean's office when he said that to me.
"WHAT!!!! You don't think I can handle them!!!!"
"T, please calm down"
"HELLLLLLLLLLL NAWWWWWWWWW!!! What the fuck you mean I can't handle them? You think that because I've never worked with a white artist before, I can't hang? Is that it? Huh?"
"T, no. Please..."
"Tell me something, before I really act a fool up in here!"
"Thomas, I was suggesting that we take it slow. Yes, you've written and produced some hits. Some have even made it on the pop charts. But, you've only been in the industry for a year. I feel that you need to gain more experience before you pursue *NSYNC."
"Experience? I've been writing songs for seven years. I've been playing guitar and piano for 10, the drums since I was ten. I've been singing and rapping even longer."
"And," I started, "now that it's been mentioned - what's up with my deal? You're supposed to be working on that?"
"T, we're still shopping the demo. Many of these labels aren't taking you seriously. It would've been easier to accept you as a artist who produces than a producer who raps and sings."
"What's the difference, Sean? I mean really..."
"Wait, dammit. Can I talk for a second?"
"I don't even want to hear this old bullshit again. 'They won't take you seriously.' 'You haven't been in the industry that long.' 'Labels are picky.'"
I rose and walked over to Sean. "Look, I know what I'm capable of, even if you're still haven't seen the light. So, get those tracks over to Jive so that boy band can have a #1 hit. And, get me my damn record deal!!!"
The receptionists tried to avert their eyes as I walked out of the conference room and toward the elevators. But, I really didn't give a fuck. Sean's been giving me the runaround for the past four months, so, in my eyes, he was long overdue for the verbal lashing he just received.
These management/agency people just don't realize just how far I come, how hard I've worked to get to this place. I had to endure poverty, an overreligious, overprotective grandmother; taunts throughout most of my education because I was the poor kid whose mother was the local crackhead, and racial snubs at college.
And no, I didn't just major in music. I also majored in Systems Analysis and double minored in Business Law and Marketing. So, I know some shit. I have some serious goals to reach, and I'm not going to let people place their expectations or realities on me. I've been exceeding all expectations for 23 years, and I'm not going to let Sean, Platinum Plus Management/Agency, Jive Records, or anyone else stop me.
I was so into my thoughts that I almost didn't hear the phone ring. I jumped over the sofa (and almost into my glass coffee table), and caught the phone just before the voicemail picked up.
"Hello, Thomas Dublin speaking."
"T... I have some good news."
"Are you sure Sean? You sound uncertain."
"No, just shocked. Jive called a few hours ago. Not only do *NSYNC want to do work on their next album, but the Backstreet Boys also wants you to work on a few tracks for them."
My butt somehow connected with the sofa. "Stop fucking with me, Sean."
"Thomas, you know that I don't play. The executives over there are waiting for me to confirm so that can draw up the legal work. So, do you want to come over when I make the call?"
I've been waiting for over two months to hear those words from Sean. But he had been fucking around with me. I think that turnabout's fair play.
"You're not making the call."
"WHAT!!!"
I wonder if Sean pissed on himself yet. I know he's going to have suck on his inhaler after I hang up.
"I just wanted to see if I could work with them. Now that I know that I'm talented enough to catch the attention of the 'pop princes', I'm satisfied."
"Thomas, do you know how much shit I had to go through to get Jive to even consider your tracks! I've hard to kiss some hairy ass to hook this up, and you tell me this shit!!!!"
"Now you know how I've been feeling for the past few months, fucker."
"Fucker!!!!"
"Yeah. Now place the call, and call me back when you get the papers."
And I hung up as quickly as possible, before Sean could hear my giggling.
Did you seriously think that I would pass up an opportunity to work with one of my favorite groups; no, with two of my favorite groups?
I'll admit it - I'm a black man who loves pop acts. I have all of *NSYNC's albums, all of Backstreet Boys' as well. I even have some of the imported albums. I love all types of music - R&B, pop, rock, rap, classical, jazz, even country (don't sleep). My fraternity brothers in college used to tease me about listening to "dem whiteboys and shit." But, I still spent my money on the CDs, spent hours practicing their songs on my keyboard. I even went to the *NSYNC concert when they came to the area. That was my first concert, and I caught a Greyhound to Cincinnati just to see them. It was a wonderful show, and I thanked God that I didn't have a shitty seat.
Like I mentioned before, my grandmother, who pretty much raised me, was overprotective. The only time she let me out the house was for school, church and music lessons. So, I spent a considerable amount of my childhood with MTV and BET; for some reason, my pious grandmother couldn't find a verse in the Bible condemning cable. So, I would watch videos and dream of the day when I would make my own videos.
And, if Sean would quit fucking around and get me a deal, that day could be in a couple of months. But, for now, I'll have to be content with providing the music for other artists' videos.
*NSYNC
They sat around Johnny Wright's desk with Cheshire cat smiles on their faces. Each of the band members couldn't believe their collective luck.
Lately, the process for recording their fourth album had not been going well. They had to fire a longtime collaborator, and the demos they've received lately were not what the band was looking for... until now.
"I've never heard anything so incredible," whispered Justin.
"I have," replied JC. "It reminds me of Mary J. Blige's new song. The fast keyboards, the bass line, those polyrhythms...."
"Do you know who produced it?" Justin said.
JC shrugged.
"Well," started Johnny, "He's pretty new to the industry. He's so far worked with R&B and Hip-Hop artists. He had three songs crack the top 10 Pop charts in the past four months - the Mary J. song JC mentioned, a song with Ludacris, and a track with Destiny's Child..."
"Haterade!!!"
"Yes, Justin," replied Johnny, as he cupped his right hand over that ear.
"Sorry. It's just that I love that song. 'Mad at me cause I'm paid, and mad 'cause I got it made, all you are is played, sitting back drinking haterade...' "
"We know the song, Justin!!!" His band mates chimed.
"You guys know how much I know that song. I can't wait for that CD to come out.... and that guy, the guy who produced it..."
"He has these new tracks that he hopes interests you guys."
"Are you kidding," said Lance. "This guy is about to be a major player in the music industry. Everyone is going to want a piece of his sound. I say we get a piece before he gets even more popular."
"Yeah. And, if we're the first pop group to work with..." Joey looked at Johnny for a name.
"Thomas Dublin."
"OK. If we're the first ones to work with... Thomas Dublin, no one can say that we're trying to copy Backstreet. Maybe that bullshit can get laid to rest."
"So, are the rest of you interested?" Johnny said.
"Do you really have to ask?" responded JC.
"Well then... I'll call the record company, and we'll see how soon we can get you guys into the studio with Mr. Dublin."
To Be Continued...