Half-Finished Product

Ryan then asked Nathan Chapman about the music, but the producer could only shake his head.

"You've got the wrong person. I don't know much about this genre. Young American guys only listen to R&B and hip-hop; Europeans are the ones who really love this stuff," Nathan said.

"I know who you should ask." A voice came from behind them.

Ryan turned, and Taylor and Abigail also looked toward the source of the voice. It was the recording assistant who had been in the studio the whole time.

He wore thick glasses, was short and stout, like an oversized penguin, and introduced himself as Joel.

Facing the three of them, he seemed a bit nervous: "You could try contacting established DJs like Diplo, Deadmau5, or Steve Aoki, or go to Los Angeles and Miami yourself. In short, your goal isn't in Nashville."

"You seem to know a lot about this?" Ryan ventured.

Joel explained: "I occasionally discuss electronic music production online. There's a discussion group on IRC (Internet Relay Chat) with plenty of electronic music enthusiasts. Anyway, I think your demo is really great—truly impressive. The prominent heavy bass, the simple chords, a fantastic Big Room piece."

Seeing Ryan's confusion, Joel continued: "Big Room is a style of electronic music that emphasizes extremely powerful rhythms, perfect for dancing."

Ryan felt much more at ease. Getting affirmation from a dedicated enthusiast proved the song had mainstream potential, and now the most important thing was to produce a complete work.

Joel gave similar advice: "But you'd better not take this demo to anyone. If someone else gets involved, you might not only lose your status as the primary author but could even lose your credit entirely."

"So my final suggestion is to at least produce a complete version, then upload it to the major paid music download platforms like iTunes, Amazon MP3, Rhapsody, and Zune Marketplace. Oh, and don't forget Beatport—that's where nightclub DJs worldwide get their tracks. After you've done all that, you need to promote the preview version online, starting with social networking sites."

"And copyright registration—register with the US Copyright Office as soon as possible," Ryan added. This was familiar territory for him; the original owner had once completed copyright registration by mail.

Ryan looked at Joel again: "Have you used Ableton Live?"

Joel nodded and actively invited Ryan to his home. Taylor had also packed her things and was ready to leave with Abigail. The two groups parted ways at the entrance of Blackbird Studio.

"Everyone gets lucky sometimes. You just happened to stumble into it." Taylor shrugged, regaining her confidence, then turned and walked toward the parking lot.

But her friend Abigail didn't follow Taylor right away. Instead, she turned and came over to Ryan.

"Thank you. You're Ryan, right?" she asked, blushing. Naturally, she was thanking him for speaking up for her earlier.

"Maybe we'll meet again." She turned to leave but kept looking back, then quickly caught up with Taylor.

Would they really meet again? Ryan shook his head. After yesterday's incident, Taylor would want nothing to do with him.

"The room's a bit messy. Watch your step..." Joel grabbed his pet dog by the scruff of its neck, tossed it out, and slammed the door shut.

As soon as he entered, Ryan nearly tripped over tangled cables on the floor. The whole room looked like a cyber exhibit—from an old, broken Trinitron TV to an electronic keyboard, a guitar, synthesizers, samplers, turntables—all kinds of equipment piled up in a dazzling array, with a computer at the center of it all.

This was Joel's "study." After agreeing to help Ryan complete the full production of the song, he had gladly invited Ryan to his home.

"I usually make music here. I also have a hobby of collecting various music devices, even though most of them are pretty useless now," Joel explained as he turned on the computer.

Then Joel showed Ryan a Roland TR-808 Drum Machine he had just picked up from a secondhand store.

"How about it? Pretty good condition, right? This is the foundation of hip-hop music." Joel ran his hands over it like he was caressing a piece of art.

Joel's usual DAW software was Steinberg Cubase. He said it had better extension support, but Ryan couldn't see any difference between the two.

Then Ryan began describing the chord tones in his mind and started a new round of production under Joel's hands-on guidance.

Despite Joel's patience, he struggled to understand what Ryan meant by sounds that were "both harsh and thick," "both rough and sharp," and "with a certain amount of distortion and saturation"—what kind of synthesizer effect could produce that?

"Maybe there's no such synthesizer effect on the market," Joel shook his head. "Or someone would need to make a more powerful effect plugin so you can customize any sound you imagine."

Clearly, the current level of music software development couldn't meet all of Ryan's needs.

Ryan had to settle for second best and chose the sound effect plugin Joel recommended. Though it didn't sound as impactful as the version in his head, it was enough to make Joel shout with excitement.

"That's awesome, man!" Joel raised his arm, bobbing his head to the rhythm, then turned the speakers up to max. He had never heard electronic music like this before—it felt like it came from the future, a whole era ahead.

"Do you want to scare me into a heart attack? Turn that sound off!" A shout came from outside the room—Joel's mother.

Joel had no choice but to comply, then began talking about his own experiences: "When I was at UF (University of Florida), I wasn't this fat. I was a DJ back then. After graduation, I stayed in Florida and lived with my roommate Lawrence. We worked during the day and made music at night, always hoping to make a living from music someday. Seven years went by, but it was nothing but failure after failure. Eventually, my roommate went to Los Angeles to keep chasing his music dream, and I came back to Nashville."

By age, Joel was already over thirty. His tone carried a deep sense of disappointment unique to middle-aged men.

"How many people are like Taylor? Her father runs a consulting firm on Wall Street, and her mother is always there to support her every step of the way. On top of that, her creative talent, voice, and looks are all pretty good. If someone like that were in an inspirational movie, the audience would think the writer was an idiot with no logic. But sometimes God just favors certain people." Joel shifted the topic to Taylor, his tone growing heavier.

Ryan had heard from Trey before that to support their daughter's music dream, Taylor's father had moved his entire company to Nashville. Her mother provided round-the-clock companionship. Two years ago, when Taylor released a new album, her mother drove her and a trunk full of physical CDs on a radio station tour. Mother and daughter personally delivered albums to radio stations across the country, one by one, door to door. That was how the country singer got her first wave of exposure.

"Want to know why I'm helping you, kid? I see my younger self in you. I think, if someone had given me hands-on guidance back then, I could have avoided a lot of detours." Joel shared his thoughts. "The audience's reaction is the only true test of a song. I have a part-time gig at a nightclub. Want to try guesting as a DJ?"