Chapter 81

In the last week of the promotion, Song Ya returned to New York.

"This week's."

In the back room of a small gold store in Chinatown, Brooklyn, Song Ya threw a small handbag to NAS, "Say hello to Rakim for me."

NAS opened the handbag, and roughly flicked through the stacks of twenty and fifty knives inside, a total of twenty thousand, "Yeah." He nodded, zipped it up, and stuffed it into his arms.

"Okay, let's go out."

Song Ya patted him on the shoulder, and the two walked to the store. Dilai and Al were discussing with the Chinese proprietress with the design drawing.

"Gold, yes, the necklace should be thick, and the letters A+ on the hang tag should be covered with rhinestones. We want that blingbling feeling, so order three."

The gold chain given by Lao Qiao was snatched by the Cubans. It is impossible to sing rap songs like Remember The Name without that stuff. I heard that black hip-hop singers custom-made jewelry in this store. Song Ya took advantage of her visit to New York to design her own The hang tags that come out are set, one for each of the three lead singers.

"Choose one too, NAS." When paying the bill, Song Ya saw NAS looking around the glittering shop eagerly, and said politely.

"Really?" NAS looked at him.

"Yeah, I'm tired of logging, you're welcome..." Song Ya took out the checkbook and shook it at him.

NAS pointed to a huge gold chain on the wall, and asked the proprietress to take it down.

"You boy... you're really not polite to me..." Song Ya's face darkened, and the words turned into "cool." According to the total price calculated by the proprietress, he signed a check.

"Yo..."

NAS wrapped the gold chain around his neck, "I'm tired of logging, ah..." He made a lot of affection, and offered to stretch out his fist. Song Ya touched him, and he patted the handbag in his arms, "I'll take care of your business." Done."

"It's all up to you." Song Ya waved and watched him go out.

"APLUS, come, let's take a picture." The proprietress took out the camera.

Song Ya pressed Al's arm that was gesturing to the GD gang, and took a photo with her.

While filming, the pager rang, and it was Walter.

"Come to the headquarters, Mr. Motura wants to see you." Walter said concisely.

Song Ya hurried to the headquarters of Columbia Records, and met the tall and handsome head of Columbia Records in the palace-like office on the top floor.

"APLUS, your first order is good, congratulations." Motura came out from behind the desk and held out his hand.

"Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Motura." Song Ya shook hands with him.

"sit."

Motura led him to the sofa on the other side of the office and sat down, "The billboard will be No. 9 in the third week, and it may fall to No. 8 in the fourth week. It is very stable. I heard from the sales department that it will soon reach the platinum record. Is it?"

"Yes."

"The tricks you use are very simple and effective, do you know? If it were me, I would not release I feel it coming as a single, but just let it lie quietly in the album and make a strong single."

"It was my first single after all."

"I know, I know your mentality very well, so I called Philby in Philadelphia, did you see his short review in Rolling Stone magazine?"

"I see, he made fun of me."

"Haha..." Motura laughed, "Sometimes it's the other way around. Don't you think that after he said that, the dislike of MJ fans towards you disappeared? The sales in the third and fourth weeks were a lot. Contributed by MJ fans who read Philby's short review."

"So that's how it is." Song Ya instantly understood, it seemed to be such a truth.

"I heard from Walt that you are preparing a second song? Or do you want to release a single?"

"Yes, the second song will be a rap song."

"Beware of control,

With more than a dozen songs in an album, it is not possible to release a single in every capital, and five songs should be the upper limit. "

"I see."

The two chatted about work for a while, and Motura walked to the bar, "Bourbon? Gin? Tequila?"

"Well, gin would be fine."

Motula poured two glasses of wine and handed them to Song Ya. After the two tasted them for a while, he said, "I heard from Walter that you and Mary got along very well."

"Well……"

Song Ya carefully observed the other party, as if she didn't mean to ask the teacher to blame, "Yes, Miss Kelly and I had a little misunderstanding before, but we became good friends later."

"She doesn't have many friends in New York, you can get together if you have nothing to do." Motula put down his glass.

"Okay." Song Yaxin said that you told me to get together more.

"Emmmm..."

Motula crossed her fingers on her lap, showing a bit of embarrassment. After deliberating for a long time, she said, "There is something, we had a little dispute, can you persuade her for me?"

"You say."

"Is such that……"

Through Motura's narration, Song Ya understood that with the popularity of Mariah Carey, the black community began to criticize as usual, just like MJ's current predicament, 'not black enough', this has become Black groups attacked her targets.

In some respects, I guess I will be attacked like this in the future, and I can't avoid it.

But Mariah Carey's way of dealing with it is a little different. She thinks that since everyone says I'm not dark enough, why don't I just go for a tanner? It happened to make a new appearance at the Grammy Awards Gala at the end of the month, suppressing the negative comments from the black community. Anyway, the practice of tanning is very common in the United States, because wealthy white people have the money and leisure to go to the beach for vacation, and at the same time tan themselves into a bronze color. His skin was also made as if he had just returned from the sea.

But this idea was firmly opposed by Motura, and the two quarreled over it.

Mariah Carey thinks that since she's half black anyway, it's okay to be tanned, and that way no one will say she's 'not black enough'.

"You know, I like her, I like her just the way she is..."

Motura chose his words carefully, "Of course, this does not mean that I am a racist who thinks black skin is ugly. I signed MJ, signed you, and signed a large number of African-American singers. I plan to give some street stars this year. Rapper opportunity. And Mary, she's overreacting, you know what I mean?"

"I understand, I understand, I am also of mixed race, and I feel the same for Miss Kelly's attack." Song Ya comforted him.

"Yes, that's why I came here for you."

"Don't worry, I will persuade Miss Kelly."

Song Ya took over the errand, and in the evening, Walt had already made an appointment to have dinner again, it was still the few of them, and it was still the French restaurant.

But this time, Walt, David Cole, and Roberto Clivell made excuses to leave early.

"They're so boring."

Mariah Carey pouted and complained, and raised her hand to beckon the waiter to pour another glass of red wine, "Ha, Walt is not here, you are not allowed to tell the truth." She winked at Song Ya.

"Don't worry, am I that kind of person?" Song Ya pulled the chair closer, "Are you busy recently?"

"In addition to recording songs, I am preparing to participate in the Grammys. By the way, give me some advice..."

She took out a Gucci haute couture catalog from her bag, "I'm going to wear this." She pointed to a white evening gown.

"Why don't you choose the black one next to it, it suits your skin very well." Song Ya deliberately pointed to another black style with diamond trim and shoulder straps and said: "It's also very shiny, the judges will not be able to take their eyes off of."

"Wow, you have the same vision as my stylist."

She unknowingly fell into Song Ya's language trap, "But then my skin will become a little darker, and this one won't be so suitable."

"Go darker?"

"Yeah, I'm planning on getting a tan during this time."

"Why? In my eyes, you are the perfect woman now!"

"Hehe, you kid, your mouth is so sweet." Mariah Carey slapped him on the shoulder with a smile, "You don't know what those DJs said about me."

"What are you talking about? Not black enough?"

"Yes." She took a big sip of red wine.

"Hahaha!"

Song Ya pretended to laugh, "Why don't I know, I am also a mixed race, and they also said that I am not black enough."

"Yeah?"

"Of course, you don't bother with them, really, you don't understand those DJs."

Song Ya said: "I'm not like you, the princess of Columbia Records. B-List like me often deal with these big and small DJs when I run publicity. I know them too well. As long as they are of mixed race, they will say you If you are not black enough, you are not your own person, if you blacken yourself, do you know what they will say about you?"

"What about me?"

"They'll say you're a 'fake' nigga! Believe me, you're not going to please them. They're relying on DISS and DISS to win ratings. How can they keep their mouths shut? And if you let them know that you care about their comments, They will only become more and more unscrupulous, nothing else, just to arouse your reaction, just like the little boy next door likes to make girls cry on purpose, they are so cheap."