From American Internet Celebrity to God Among Men

87: Chapter 87 Funk BlitzIn the eastern industrial district of Nashville, on the second floor of an unassuming warehouse, the windows were sealed shut with thick soundproofing foam. Inside, the air was a mixture of the faint charred smell of old circuit boards, the bitter aroma of fresh coffee, and an absolute silence born of high pressure.

Alex stood alone in front of the mixing console, with the single work light overhead casting a conical halo of light. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and let his consciousness sink into the vast ”Future Music Library” deep within the system interface. The complete audio memory of ”Uptown Funk” unfolded slowly in his mind like a dusty master tape.

But this wasn’t just simple playback. Relying on 【Master of Creation (Intermediate)】 and the newly developed 【Style Fusion Perception】, he could deconstruct this 2014 phenomenal work like a surgeon dissecting a human body: the rhythmic skeleton of James Brown, the brass colors of the golden age of 70s funk, the sheen of 80s synth-pop, all wrapped in the most precise pop production techniques of the second decade of the 21st century.

”The key is the ’sense of dislocation’,” he whispered to himself, his fingers hovering over the MIDI keyboard, ”forcing things from different eras to stick together to create a strange kind of fashion that is both retro and ahead of its time.”

He pressed the first key.

A carefully processed drum machine loop rang out, the rhythm crisp and clean, but he layered a subtle tape saturation noise over the snare sound, making it sound like it had been ripped from an old 1978 sample tape, yet it possessed the impact of 2011 dance music.

【Ability Triggered: Style Fusion Perception】

【Analysis: 20% 1970s Funk Groove, 30% 1980s Synth-Pop, 50% Contemporary Pop Production】

【Suggestion: Strengthen the ”era collage” feel; consider appropriately highlighting the texture of analog audio sources】

Alex adjusted the parameters. He added a bouncy synth bass line, the notes simple to the point of being childish, but he intentionally introduced a millisecond delay on the second and fourth beats, creating that slightly dragging ”restlessness” that old-school funk musicians could only achieve with a real bass.

Just then, the door behind him was pushed open, and Taylor walked in wrapped in the chill of the morning mist, carrying two paper bags. ”Breakfast. And what you asked for...” She handed over an old canvas bag containing several second-hand cassette tapes, ”I scoured all the second-hand record stores in Nashville, and this is all I could find in terms of 70s funk compilations.”

”Perfect.” Alex took it and quickly shoved one of the cassettes into an old TASCAM four-track recorder. After a burst of crackling background noise, a fuzzy but vibrant trumpet solo flowed out. He sampled two measures of it, looped and denoised it in the audio software, and then skillfully layered it into the project file he was arranging.

When this ”dusty” brass sample was juxtaposed with the cold, modern drum machine rhythm, magic happened.

Taylor’s hands, which were unwrapping a sandwich, stopped. She looked up, the sleepiness in her eyes instantly replaced by astonishment: ”What... what the hell is this?”

”This is our bomb.” Alex didn’t turn back, his fingers moving rapidly across the controller, slightly raising the pitch of the brass sample to make it fit the chord progression better, ”How does it sound?”

Taylor listened silently for a dozen seconds, her furrowed brow slowly smoothing out, and finally, her lips curled into an incredulous arc: ”It... it’s weird. It’s like someone in a 1978 nightclub using a time machine to make a call to 2011. But damn it, it makes you want to shake your ass.”

”That’s the point.” Alex finally turned around, his eyes shining astonishingly under the work light, ”Northrop knows how to deal with protest songs, knows how to twist political accusations. But they, and the entire mainstream music industry, don’t know how to handle a kind of ’happiness’ that is pure, powerful, and uncategorizable. When everyone thinks my next song will continue the accusations, I’m going to use this three-minute, nonsensical, pure hedonistic funk dance track to blast through all their preset battle lines.”

At nine in the morning, Marcus and Hank arrived. When Alex played the embryonic arrangement, the two men’s reactions were completely different.

Marcus crossed his arms, his business brain spinning rapidly: ”The melodic hook is extremely strong, and the rhythm has a mandatory viral quality. If the finished product maintains this level of quality, it has the potential to become the ’King of Background Music’ for the shopping season—malls, radio stations, and parties will all need it. But the risk is that this is too big a break from your previous image, and it might confuse or even alienate the serious audience that ’Safe & Sound’ attracted.”

Hank was much simpler; as he listened, his feet had already started tapping the floor unconsciously: ”I don’t understand all that. But this thing makes me want to dance. I think... ordinary people will like it.”

”That’s exactly what I want—’ordinary people will like it’.” Alex pulled up the backend data of the Voice of Truth platform and pointed to the user profile, ”Our core supporters, the people connected by the NT-7 incident, won’t leave just because of one happy song. And the target of this song is the remaining, silent majority—they don’t care about political infighting, but they need music for driving, working out, and throwing parties. We are going to use this song to turn ’Alex Su’ from ’that singer who exposed the military-industrial giant’ into ’the guy who made the hottest dance track this winter’.”

The strategy was clear. This was a precise flanking attack, an attempt to pierce political barriers using pop culture.

The next eight hours became a period of high-intensity, high-precision sound forging. Alex’s 【Omnimedia Director Vision】 allowed him to ”see” the frequency and soundstage of the audio, precisely adjusting the position of every instrument in the mix. Taylor contributed her innate sense for pop melodies, adding a few finishing touches of vocal harmonies like ”Hey-ha!” to the otherwise instrumental-heavy sections.

The anonymous engineer from Organization D, ”Decoder,” connected via an encrypted channel and provided several synth sounds he had simulated that were more ”glitchy,” making the electronic parts of the song sound less smooth and more aggressive.

By five in the afternoon, the final mix of ”Uptown Funk” was complete. It was three minutes and fifty-eight seconds long, slightly shorter than the original, with a tighter rhythm. The whole song was like a precise yet wild happiness machine, grabbing the listener’s ears from the very first drum beat, pushing higher and higher, until it came to an abrupt halt with that final ”pop” sound mimicking a skipping vinyl record.

The control room was silent. Everyone, including Rex who had just arrived, was immersed in the slight tinnitus that follows a shock.

”This...” Marcus was the first to speak, his voice a bit dry, ”This doesn’t sound like a song from 2011. It sounds like it’s from... the future. A more stylish, bolder future.”

”That’s right.” Alex took a deep breath and wrapped the headphone cord around his hand, ”Next, the vocals. This is the most critical step—giving this precise machine a ’soul,’ or more accurately, an ’attitude’.”

He walked into the recording booth and stood in front of the microphone. Outside the soundproof glass, Taylor sat in the main seat of the console and put on the monitoring headphones. This wasn’t the kind of lyrical song she was familiar with that required deep emotional investment; her role now was Alex’s ”first listener” and ”vibe coach.”

Alex closed his eyes and first awakened the ability of 【Master of Creation (Intermediate)】. Instantly, every detail of the song, every breath, and even that subtle ”chanting” feel between singing and rapping from the original, appeared as clearly as a musical score in his mind. But that wasn’t enough; he needed to find an interpretation that belonged to ”Alex Su”—it couldn’t be a simple imitation, but a reinterpretation that was internalized, carrying the certainty of a reborn soul and the bravado of a young body.

”Imagine you aren’t singing,” Taylor’s voice came over the intercom, calm and precise, ”you are declaring. Like a guy who has just won the whole world, strolling back to his familiar neighborhood, saying to everyone, ’Watch closely, this is what stylish is’.”

Alex nodded. He pressed the talkback button: ”Give me some ’Hey-ha!’ vocal harmonies in the background, placed after the chorus, the kind that feels casual, like a bunch of stylish friends cheering in the background.”

Taylor made an OK gesture and operated the console quickly.

During the first test recording, Alex focused on technical details: rhythmic precision and melodic stability. It was well-executed, but in Taylor’s words, ”It sounds like an excellent cover machine, with no spark.”

”Forget about ’correct’,” Taylor guided him, ”The core of this song is ’attitude’. Lift your chin a little higher, imagine you’re wearing the most extravagant suit, walking down an empty street, and the whole world is your runway. For the second take, I want to hear your ’disdain’ and ’hedonism’.”

Alex took a deep breath, forcibly clearing his mind of all thoughts regarding NT-7, Northrop, and the struggle. He let his eighteen-year-old body relax, shifting his weight onto one leg, his fingers unconsciously tapping against the side of his thigh to the rhythm in his headphones. He found that feeling—a near-instinctive, arrogant confidence, stripped of heavy missions and derived purely from youth and the possession of future knowledge.

On the second take, when he sang ”Don’t believe me just watch!”, his voice carried that perfectly pitched, slightly upturned, provocative lilt. Outside the glass, Hank’s body was already swaying unconsciously to the rhythm.

”Very good! That’s the feeling!” Taylor’s voice was filled with excitement, ”Keep it up, for the third take, we’re recording for real. Remember, you aren’t Alex Su, you are the only Party King of ’Uptown’ tonight.”

On the third take, he was in the zone from the very first word. It was a precisely controlled relaxation, every turn in the melody carried a casual flamboyance, and every pause landed on the most satisfying beat of the rhythm. When the final line ”Uptown Funk you up!” burst out with a raspy, explosive energy, Marcus in the control room even snapped his fingers.

Recording finished. Alex walked out of the recording booth, his eyes shining brilliantly.

”How was it?” he asked.

Taylor immediately pressed the play button. The roughly mixed vocals blended with the accompaniment; the sound was arrogant, bright, and full of indomitable vitality, starkly different from the coldness of ”Radioactive” and the gentleness of ”Safe & Sound”, yet strangely full of conviction.

”It works.” Taylor turned to look at him, smiling brightly, ”Now, even I want to go out immediately, buy the flashiest outfit, and dance to this song all night. You’ve successfully split off another ’self’.”

”Not a split,” Alex corrected, wiping sweat from his forehead, ”It’s an unlock. At necessary moments, a warrior can also become the heart of the party. Next, it’s time for you to add some flashy background vocals to this ’party’.”

In the time that followed, Taylor quickly recorded several finishing touches of harmony and background responses (like ”Hey!”, ”Whoa!”), making the song’s layering and lively atmosphere even fuller.

Alex summoned the system interface. During the thirteen hours of high-intensity creation, the interface had been quietly hovering in the corner, and only now did several prompts pop up:

[High-intensity creative activity ended]

[Ability Growth: Master of Creation (Intermediate) proficiency increased to 65%]

[Style Fusion Perception (Primary) proficiency increased to 41%]

[New Ability Fragment: Cultural Trend Anchoring (9%) - Can perceive the potential of specific content to become a cultural phenomenon]

[Work ”Uptown Funk” (2011 Early Version) Completion Assessment: 98%]

[Estimated Social Propagation Potential: S-Rank (Phenomenal)]

[Warning: The style of this work has an 85% difference from the creator’s past public image, which may trigger unpredictable public opinion reactions]

”Unpredictability is exactly what I want.” Alex closed the interface.

Marcus and Hank arrived, and with them was a young woman wearing glasses and carrying a briefcase—Lauren, the entertainment lawyer Marcus had urgently contacted, who specialized in music distribution contracts.

”Universal Music has already received our distribution notice and demo,” Marcus said quickly, ”Their A&R Director Kyle Jenkins will arrive in half an hour. According to the standard distribution contract, they have the right of first refusal, but we need to finalize the promotional budget, revenue sharing, and the most critical image control clauses before submitting the final master. Attorney Lauren will assist us.”

Alex nodded and played the newly completed, more impactful arranged version. Attorney Lauren listened and calmly pushed up her glasses: ”From a commercial perspective, this song has extremely high market potential. However, at the contract level, such a strong stylistic shift might trigger the ’Major Artist Image Change’ clause in the contract. The company has the right to demand a ’commercial risk assessment’ and could potentially use this as a reason to demand increased ’advisory rights’ over your future work styles. We need to prepare a negotiation strategy.”

Before she could finish speaking, two restrained knocks came from outside the door. Kyle Jenkins had arrived.

This A&R Director from Universal was in his forties, wearing a casual suit that looked effortless but was of excellent quality, with a professional, enthusiastic smile on his face. He walked in, greeted Taylor familiarly, and then looked intently at Alex.

”Alex, Taylor, good morning. I just listened to the demo on my headphones in the car...” He paused, seemingly searching for the most accurate words, ”It’s very... special. Special to the point where I’m a bit overwhelmed. This is different from any direction we previously evaluated. Can you play it again? The full version.”

When the song roared to life in the recording studio again, Kyle’s posture shifted from sitting upright to leaning forward, his fingers unconsciously tapping on his knees. When the song ended, he remained silent for several seconds.

”It has magic,” Kyle finally admitted, his tone becoming serious, ”But magic also means risk. The board and the marketing department are used to predictable ’products’. This song, it’s unpredictable. We need to talk terms.”

The next two hours were a war without smoke. Kyle represented the caution and greed of the commercial machine; he hoped to gain more ”influence” over the final version of the song, the marketing direction, and even Alex’s subsequent creative plans. Alex, with the assistance of Attorney Lauren, held firmly onto his core creative autonomy.

The focus of the negotiations centered on the final approval rights for the lyrics and future image binding. Kyle wanted to strongly bind Alex to the image of a ”trendy, happy, harmless pop star” to maximize the commercial value of ”Uptown Funk”. Alex, however, insisted that no promotion should erase or dilute the social issue attributes of his previous works.

”People can like a song that makes them dance and a song that makes them think at the same time,” Alex said calmly and firmly, ”Trying to stuff me into a single box is a failure in the long run. My value lies in this very complexity.”

In the end, thanks to the irresistible potential of ”Uptown Funk” itself and Alex’s unyielding stance, both parties reached a temporary agreement: Universal would promote this single with the highest specifications, but would allow Alex to retain the right to simultaneously publish and freely explain his creative intent on the ”Voice of Truth” platform; they would not bind him solely to the image of a ”pop dance singer”; in exchange, Alex agreed to prioritize cooperation with Universal’s arranged commercial performances and mainstream media exposure over the next three months.

Kyle left with a complex mix of emotions—he had secured a potentially massive hit single, but had failed to fully control the ”asset” that created it.

”He will come back,” Attorney Lauren said, packing up her files, ”Once this song is a success, he will come to you with a more tempting, and also more demanding, long-term contract. The commercial world worships ’ownership’.”

Alex understood. But he needed this victory right now; he needed the massive volume and commercial capital brought by ”Uptown Funk” to pave the way for the even tougher battles in the next stage.

At 11:50 PM, the master recording was transmitted via an encrypted network to the Universal Music headquarters and major digital platforms. Alex stood by the window, watching the neon lights of the city in the distance.

”Launch,” he said softly.

At midnight, the bells of Black Friday rang out, and ”Uptown Funk” descended upon the world.