enjoyebooks Chapter 11: Everything is a Gamble
Chapter 11: Everything is a Gamble
Smoke swirled around the bar, and cheers occasionally drifted from the distant gambling tables. Zeke picked up his beer glass, took a small sip, suppressed his excitement, and slowly began to tell Tino about his predicament and plans.
He didn't hide his experience of being ignored and ridiculed by the band, and threatened and exploited by the publisher. He frankly stated that he wanted to get out of his current predicament and needed Tino's help to contact a record company to sell his songs for a good price.
Tino listened intently, his fingers tapping lightly on the bar. When Zik finished speaking, he looked up at Zik and asked in a serious tone:
"You didn't give the lyrics and music for this song to anyone, did you? You didn't keep any written records, recordings, or have anyone copy it?"
Qi Ke shook his head decisively, his tone certain: "No, only one publisher who couldn't read music glanced at the simplified score draft, but I didn't let him keep a copy, and I burned all those drafts. Now only I have the complete melody and lyrics in my head."
"You're cautious, that's a good thing." Tino nodded approvingly, a smile playing on his lips, but his tone suddenly shifted, "But your plan, if I may be so bold, is a pile of dog shit."
Seeing Zeke's slightly surprised expression, he softened his tone and explained, "In short, your core need is to retain ownership of your songwriting copyrights while quickly receiving a substantial sum of money without being exploited by publishers, right?"
“That’s right!” Zeke nodded immediately. “Those music publishers are so greedy. They either buy out my songs for $1000 at once or they only pay me 1 cent per record. They’re exploiting me like a slave and don’t care about my work at all.”
"Haha, kid, you've really caught a lucky break." Tino laughed, raised his glass and lightly clinked it with Zik's. "Back when I was young, white people really treated us Italians like white blacks, and the exploitation and discrimination were much worse than they are now."
Zik smiled but didn't reply. He just looked at Tino earnestly and said, "So, Tino, do you have any suggestions? I really don't know how to protect the copyright and get the money at the same time."
Tino put down his glass, leaned forward slightly, and said in a serious tone, "Here's what we'll do: I'll be your manager. I also have a band called Siren. The core members are several musicians from South Africa, all of whom are classically trained. Some graduated from Berklee College of Music, and some from the New England Conservatory of Music. Their skills are absolutely solid."
"Although they've always played rock, they've never really taken off. The band members have changed several times, and they're eager to break out of their niche. Disco is all the rage right now, and they certainly won't refuse to use a high-quality disco song to pry open the doors of record companies."
"We'll have the Sirens perform this song first, generate buzz on a small scale, and attract the attention of record companies. As long as they can get a record deal, your song can sell for a good price, and you'll still have the copyright firmly in your hands."
Zik frowned more and more as he listened, and immediately interrupted Tino after he finished speaking: "Mr. Balzi, excuse me, may I ask a few questions?"
He had some reservations, after all, Tino was so talkative, always trying to associate his songs with a band he'd never even heard of.
"Of course, kid, don't be so formal." Tino waved his hand, his tone relaxed. "Just call me Tino. Since we're going to cooperate, we should ask questions if there are any problems. That's what a smart person does."
"My first question," Zik said, looking directly at Tino with a serious tone, "is that you've never even heard my songs, so why are you willing to be my manager? And why a manager?"
"It's very simple." Tino smiled, his eyes gleaming with shrewdness. "Those publishers in Tinpan Lane are all as cunning as foxes. The fact that they're willing to go to such lengths to seduce you, threaten you, and even try to steal your song means that the song is definitely of high quality and is a goldmine that can make money."
Moreover, you're outstanding in appearance, shrewd enough, ambitious, and most importantly, you have creative talent. Would you be content to remain an unknown songwriter? I bet you won't, and I bet this song will be a hit, and I bet you'll become someone important. That's enough.
"Take a gamble?" Zeke repeated, a thought flashing through his mind.
"That's right, this is America, everything is a gamble, my friend." Tino laughed loudly. "Doing business is a gamble, finding opportunities is a gamble, even what we're doing right now is a gamble. Either we win and we get rich together; or we lose, we just start over. What can we possibly lose?"
Looking at Tino in front of him, Zik felt that this guy was to his liking. He was experienced, shrewd, and had a bit of an open mind. Moreover, he saw through Zik's ambition at a glance. He was much more reliable than those publishers who only knew how to exploit people.
But he remained vigilant, and deliberately tried to sound tough by asking, "There's another problem, Tino. I'm part of a gang, working for Paulie Wario alongside the dentist. Aren't you worried that working with me might cause you trouble?"
Upon hearing this, Tino waved his hand dismissively: "Of course I'm not worried. I'm a respectable businessman, but you know what, Zeke, I actually prefer dealing with the Mafia."
In the United States, doing business with the wealthy is essentially a contest of whose lawyers are more skilled, and who can better exploit loopholes in the rules—a cutthroat world where deception and manipulation are rampant and impossible to guard against. But the Mafia is different. They adhere to the rules. As long as you don't break the law or betray them, they are trustworthy and will never stab you in the back. They are far more reliable than those seemingly respectable businessmen.
These words broadened Zik's horizons and completely put his mind at ease.
He had thought Tino would be wary of his gang background, but he hadn't expected the other party to be so perceptive.
He almost agreed immediately, but out of caution, he asked the crucial question: "One last question, Tino, if the collaboration is successful, how much money will I get? And how much will you, as my agent, take?"
Tino smiled and winked mysteriously: "The Siren's lead singer's father is a very successful South African businessman who drives a Rolls-Royce and has plenty of money."
Guess how much this rich kid is willing to spend to become famous and get a record deal for a good song? I can assure you, it won't be cheap, and you'll have to keep your copyright firmly in your hands; not a single penny will be taken away.
"How can you guarantee that?" Zik pressed, terrified of being tricked again and losing the copyright.
"It's very simple," Tino said confidently. "Once you get the money, set up your own publishing company and put all your songwriting copyrights under that company's name, holding full ownership."
Then you entrust a large publishing company or a professional copyright management company to handle the administrative management for you. You only need to pay a service fee, and the copyright belongs to you from beginning to end; no one can take it away. This is how Frank Sinatra broke the monopoly of large corporations.
At this point, he glanced at the casino staff, his tone carrying a hint of suggestion: "As for my fees, I know the rules here. My agent's cut is only 12%, absolutely no more."
Zik instantly understood. Tino's mention of 12% was clearly a sign of respect for Pauli Valio. Pauli and the Colombo family each only took 12.5% of each deal, and Tino's share was no more than that. This was not only a very fair price, but also an implication that he knew how to abide by the rules, that he was "one of us," and wouldn't cause Zik any trouble.
All concerns were dispelled. Zeke picked up his beer glass, looking at Tino with a determined gaze: "Then let's wish each other a successful collaboration?"
"It's a pleasure working with you!" Tino slammed his glass against his glass, his tone urgent. "Time waits for no one. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning and take you to meet the Sirens. Remember to bring your lawyer. We need to start rehearsals right away; we can't waste a single second."
"Uh, so fast?"
Qi Ke's heart suddenly pounded, and a hint of hesitation appeared on his face.
He had seen GG listed in music industry magazines like Billboard and Record World, which specialize in entertainment law, but those firms charged exorbitant fees, even for the simplest consultations, so he never dared to contact them.
Moreover, it's currently the Christmas holiday season, and he's unsure if these lawyers will be working, let alone whether he should be paid extra for overtime.
Tino noticed his hesitation and patted him on the shoulder:
"Zick, the record industry is a battlefield where every second counts. Disco is hot right now, and countless new songs are coming out every day. We have to hurry and try to start performing during the Christmas holidays so that the radio can play this song. We need to seize the market first so that we can attract the attention of record companies and get a good price. Don't worry too much about the lawyer. If all else fails, I'll help you contact someone. We can discuss the fees."
Zik nodded, still feeling a little uneasy, but he understood that Tino was telling the truth.
This is his only chance to escape gangster life and establish himself on his own merits; he must seize it.