Chapter 474: Straightforward guy
The sound of a key turning in a lock, a subtle click as the door latch released, and with the gentle hum of wheels rolling along the tracks, a sliver of light spilled into the room. It tore through the darkness, disrupting the serene and warm air, replacing it with an unsettled restlessness. The biting chill of the morning wind swept away the heaviness and murkiness within view.
Matthew Dunlop effortlessly placed his briefcase on the couch, walked to the window with firm strides, and briskly pulled open the heavy blackout curtains. The thin sunlight cascaded in, dispelling the lingering night as if a tide retreating, rolling away the darkness. In the blink of an eye, the entire room brightened.
In early spring, New York's sunlight wasn't glaring. Countless tall skyscrapers seemed to prop up the heavens, standing tall and distant. After passing through numerous obstacles and the concrete jungle, the golden sunlight was no longer dazzling or scorching by the time it reached the ground; instead, it carried a lingering hint of winter's chill.
Yet, compared to London, this weather was considered quite pleasant.
From the bed to his left came the sound of someone shifting. Without turning around, Matthew knew that Renly had probably retreated back under the covers, burying his head beneath the blankets, resisting the call of the warm morning.
"Renly, it's time to get up," Matthew called out loudly. His deep voice shattered the room's tranquility, erasing the final evidence of night and announcing the arrival of a new day. "You said it yourself, we have a whole day of work ahead. These are your words, not mine." Matthew finished his sentence authoritatively, paid no further attention to Renly, and headed to the kitchen.
Renly covered his ears with a pillow and used the blanket to shield his eyes, artificially creating a quiet and dark atmosphere, continuing to float in and out of his dreams. But not long after, the aroma of frying eggs began to waft through the air. His stomach, depleted of energy overnight, couldn't help but emit a low growl.
How annoying.
Today marked the beginning of his work in the recording studio, the start of a new life—a completely different form of work compared to acting.
Strictly speaking, both acting and recording were forms of artistic creation that depended on the inspiration and condition of the performers. If inspiration flowed, both acting and recording could progress smoothly, effortlessly. Conversely, they could be filled with stumbling blocks and disruptions when inspiration was lacking.
However, the greatest difference between acting and recording lay in the fact that acting leaned more toward group work, while recording leaned more toward solitary tasks.
To shoot a scene, it required the coordination of multiple elements such as camera, lighting, production, actors, and director. If an actor couldn't find their groove, the entire crew either had to wait for them to adjust or temporarily shoot scenes involving other actors. A full day's work typically stayed within the eight-hour mark, avoiding overtime work as much as possible.
Especially in today's well-developed film industry, where a top-tier actor's performance was subpar, causing the entire production to halt, was gradually becoming less common.
On the other hand, recording a song was primarily the business of the singer and the producer, with an occasional addition of a sound engineer. In many cases, the producer also played the role of the sound engineer. If a singer couldn't find their groove, no matter how hard the producer worked, it would be in vain.
A single song, just four minutes long, and when inspiration flowed, it could be recorded in under half an hour. However, when inspiration was elusive, spending twelve hours in the recording studio might not yield the desired result. Everything was uncertain, entirely reliant on the working inspiration and the performer's state of mind.
Therefore, recording was a job without set starting or ending times. The process depended entirely on the artist's condition and the day's recording outcome. It could start at noon and finish by three o'clock, or it might commence at ten in the morning and continue until midnight.
In essence, both were forms of artistic creation. But in terms of structure, film production had established a systematic workflow, while music retained the spontaneity and freedom of artists.
Typically, film crews worked eight-hour days, starting at nine in the morning, with a two-hour lunch break, and finishing at seven in the evening if there were no special requirements like night scenes, sunrises, or sunsets. Especially in productions shot indoors, the lives of the crew members were similar to those of typical office workers.
Musicians, on the other hand, were different. Most musicians were creatures of the night, accustomed to creating during the late hours when it was quiet. Even if they weren't, nighttime was the season for parties and revelry. Besides, singers often found it challenging to sing early in the morning due to physical reasons. Even the most melodious voice could turn into a disaster if they had to sing at seven in the morning.
Therefore, most recording sessions started in the afternoon, extending into the evening or even going through the night. Even if they began in the morning, most singers preferred to start after ten or even later. The working conditions were vastly different.
Although art was a universal language, there were significant differences between different forms of art. For Renly, embarking on the production of an album was indeed an entirely new challenge. Even though he had previously recorded two singles in the Sound City studio, creating an entire album was on a different level and was genuinely exciting.
Normally, Renly didn't need to wake up at 7:30 a.m. as he did during filming. Today was his first day in the recording studio, a new beginning from scratch, making the situation somewhat special.
Before officially diving into recording, the producer and sound engineer needed to establish a consensus on the album's direction. This included the style of arrangement, the method of singing, and the emphasis on interpretation. These factors would affect the singer's recording, acting as keys to determining the direction of the work.
While George Slender was the album's producer, all the tracks on the album came from Renly's compositions. From this perspective, Renly was also one of the album's producers. More importantly, Renly's current compositions were all original. Before recording, it was essential to arrange them according to the album's style and the singer's positioning, a crucial step that Renly couldn't afford to miss.
In addition, entering a new recording studio, Renly needed to familiarize himself with the equipment, the production team, the rhythm of the recording process, and more. All of these were basic aspects that required time for adaptation.
George mentioned that he would arrive at the recording studio around 9:30 a.m. to have a brief discussion with the sound engineer and get acquainted. Renly could appear around ten o'clock or so. The primary task for the first day was to set the tone, and if everything went smoothly, recording could start at any time. However, if there were disagreements during the discussion, recording might not begin as quickly.
Following his usual routine, Renly had set his alarm clock for eight o'clock, allowing himself an extra ten or fifteen minutes of snooze. Getting up before eight-thirty was never an issue. After a morning shower and breakfast, he would leisurely head to the recording studio, with time to spare. However, to his surprise, Matthew was punctual as ever. Without even glancing at the alarm clock, Renly knew it was exactly eight o'clock.
Renly couldn't help but facepalm. He regretted giving Nathan the day off.
Not to mention the primary task for the morning, which was to determine the album's style and direction, his assistant couldn't be of much help. Unlike working with a film crew, during recording, it was mostly communication between the singer and the producer and the inner conflicts of the singer themselves. Outsiders rarely played a significant role and sometimes could even be counterproductive. Moreover, the workspace was confined to the recording studio, fully equipped, with no need for mobility or assistance.
In other words, the assistant's role was quite limited. At most, they could help order lunch, order takeout during breaks, and occasionally run errands when needed. That was about it.
So, Renly decided to let Nathan continue his day off and asked Matthew to wake him up instead to ensure he didn't oversleep and miss his schedule.
However, he didn't expect Matthew, the "straightforward guy", to show up exactly at eight o'clock, which shattered his plan to indulge in a few more minutes of sleep. He was truly his own worst enemy.
Accompanied by the sizzling sounds of a frying pan, the aroma of bacon filled the apartment. The simmering of boiling water echoed for a while, followed by the fragrant scent of black tea. Renly's stomach protested. He had only wanted to linger in bed for a little while longer, and now that dream had turned into a luxury. He pulled down the covers in frustration, and that's when he noticed Matthew standing at the foot of the bed, holding a teacup. Wisps of tea vapor danced in the air. Matthew was impeccably dressed in a suit, and the sparse sunlight outlined his chiseled features and broad shoulders.
"Lipton Tea is currently recruiting its next male lead for their ads. Interested?" Renly quipped with a roll of his eyes and glanced over to the bedside table where he saw a breakfast platter: scrambled eggs with bacon, accompanied by toasted bread and a tomato and lettuce salad. The aroma of the freshly cooked meal caused his mouth to water involuntarily.
Renly rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You have absolutely no sense of humor."
But Renly had long grown accustomed to this. He threw off the covers, and barefoot, he headed in the direction of the bathroom. "Did you get diarrhea from drinking Lipton tea?" he teased.
A simple jest had Matthew sporting three imaginary black lines on his forehead. His usual stoic expression was instantly disrupted, and he looked at Renly's retreating figure, vexedly explaining, "It happened just once!"
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