George was prepared to give up. Not out of laziness or neglect, but because that had been his original intention.
When he had started planning the "Don Quixote" album, George had been well aware of the challenges they would face. Finding a record label and distribution would be difficult, and even if they managed to release it smoothly, the album could easily get lost in the market's vast sea. Nevertheless, he had decided to produce this album with unwavering determination, hoping to create music that returned to its essence.
George had anticipated Abraham's attitude; he wouldn't and couldn't blame him. Yet, during the process of producing this album, he had become increasingly surprised and excited. The exhilarating feeling had rekindled memories from twenty years ago when music had been pure, simple, unadorned yet profound, rich, and full of meaning.
Just like the song "My Hands" they had just heard, it was even simpler than the arrangement of the old song "Old Pine". Besides an acoustic guitar, there were no other instruments involved. Yet, it managed to evoke the faint sadness and warmth in the lyrics, lingering in Renly's rich, husky voice. It was like a cup of coffee in a downpour, the world was vast and bustling, but the room was peaceful and comfortable. The strong aroma of coffee permeated through the damp mist, a mix of loneliness, bitterness, but also happiness and beauty.
Involuntarily, uncontrollably, George became greedy.
He knew he was being greedy. He wanted more people to hear such pure music. He wanted more people to rediscover simple happiness. He wanted more people to appreciate the emotions within the musical notes. He hoped... that Abraham could summon the courage and determination to give the "Don Quixote" album a chance. But in the end, he was just wishful thinking.
A song like "My Hands" was destined to be overlooked. Even if it were released, no one was likely to like it.
No one would quiet down on a rainy afternoon to listen attentively to a melody. It was as if no one would slow down, take a deep breath, and immerse themselves in the beauty and depth of a book's words, appreciating how seemingly ordinary words and musical notes could narrate the passage of time, emotions, and life. In today's fast-paced era of instant gratification, they would be swiftly drowned in the vast ocean and disappear without a trace, unnoticed by anyone.
Dreams? Art? Freedom?
Now they had become empty slogans, wrapped in the cloak of money as the supreme goal and entertainment as the ultimate end, serving as a means for self-amusement and driving sales for corporations. Those heartfelt and soulful cries were withering away.
Abraham's concerns were something George understood better than anyone else. He was now seriously contemplating whether to abandon physical distribution channels and release the entire album as digital audio, just like Renly's two previous singles. However, those true music enthusiasts, seasoned folk music lovers, and the target audience for "Don Quixote" were precisely outside the main consumer group for digital audio. They were staunch supporters of physical albums, some even enthusiasts of vinyl records.
It was like a paradox, a paradox destined for failure.
Listening to Roy's impassioned argument and lengthy discourse, George's eyes welled up with a hint of redness. He was trying to change, was in the process of changing, but it was proving to be incredibly difficult. As he looked at Roy in front of him and then back at Renly recording, a bitter taste lingered on his tongue. Perhaps they were destined to be outsiders pushed to the fringes of society.
"I think this is a very interesting album. I just wonder if Renly would be interested in letting our studio handle the distribution?" The voice in his ear made George pause, and he turned to look. It was the man with the crew cut and a simple, honest expression, who spoke seriously. "Of course, we are just a very small independent studio, and our promotional resources and distribution channels are quite limited. Likewise, our budget won't be substantial."
George was genuinely surprised, even shocked, and for a moment, he couldn't find the words to respond. Abraham was the first to voice George's inner thoughts. "Teddy, are you serious?"
Teddy Bell, the CEO of Studio Eleven. This studio was created and developed by Teddy and his brother, just as Teddy had said, it was a very small independent studio, and it couldn't even be considered a "company". They had always focused on producing and distributing independent music. The first two albums of Jason Mraz, and even Bruno Mars's first album before joining Atlantic Records, were all distributed by Studio Eleven.
However, Studio Eleven had a very small workload, always staying within the realm of independent music. In the past three years, they had only produced and released five albums, not to mention comparing them to the major record labels, they couldn't even compete with most independent record companies. They truly took "elitism" to the extreme.
Though small, they were well-regarded in the industry and maintained good relationships with Warner and Sony, two of the Big Five record companies. When Bruno Mars went to Atlantic Records, it was Teddy who personally mediated and convinced Abraham to sign the contract.
Previously, George hadn't considered Studio Eleven because he had never interacted with them, and his connections didn't extend to this studio. If even Abraham, who knew the ins and outs of "Don Quixote," lacked confidence in it, George didn't have the confidence to persuade Teddy.
As for renting the recording studio, it was just a straightforward lease. After all, options for finding reasonably priced and high-end studios in New York were limited.
Today, Abraham had come to Studio Eleven as a guest, and Teddy, as the host, had accompanied him. They took a brief tour of the recording studio and chatted for a while. In short, Teddy was just here to keep them company. So, when Abraham and George discussed the possibility of collaboration earlier, Teddy didn't interject. However, seeing Abraham's lack of interest, he decided to step forward.
"Of course," Teddy said with a smile. He was quite certain that his brother would absolutely love "Don Quixote", and he could already imagine how he would be captivated by it. "We have many disadvantages, and we may not be the best choice, but we also have advantages that Atlantic can't match."
In Teddy's simple and confident words, there was a hint of self-assurance. "We're willing to maintain the album's original style, respecting the creator's intentions. I believe that's where the essence of the entire album lies. In terms of royalties, we're willing to give up one or two percentage points as a condition. The album's production budget must be kept under $100,000, but we can discuss the specifics later."
A thousand butterflies fluttered in George's chest, and he was completely immersed in an uncontrollable excitement.
Was Studio Eleven the best choice? Certainly not! They were too small in scale, had a narrow distribution channel, limited promotional resources, and even their production budget was constrained. According to Teddy's conditions, George would likely have to invest in the project, and given Studio Eleven's scale and the style of "Don Quixote", it was probably doomed to fail.
But was Studio Eleven the most suitable choice? Definitely! They were willing to respect the creative concept of "Don Quixote", they were ready to commit to a fifteen percent royalty, and they could even give up one or two percentage points. Most importantly, their dedication to independent music would be a positive factor throughout the production and promotion of the album.
"If..." George found his voice trembling slightly. "I mean, if the album has more than fifteen tracks?" This was the biggest dilemma for George and Herbert. They both knew it was a choice they had to make, but what if they didn't have to choose?
"Fifteen tracks?" Teddy pondered for a moment. "If that's the case, fifteen percentage points might be our limit in terms of royalties. But as I mentioned earlier, this is just an initial discussion. We can sit down and talk about the specific details. I believe we can reach a consensus for this album."
"No problem, of course." George had faced constant setbacks for over two months, and Abraham was his last lifeline. If this didn't work out, then digital distribution would be their only option. Suddenly, another window opened behind him, and the joy, the gratitude, the happiness overwhelmed George to the point of losing his composure.
Watching George dancing with joy, Abraham couldn't help but chuckle. He looked at Teddy and asked, "But why?"
Any rational person could make the judgment that "Don Quixote" was a project destined for failure, a project bound to lose money, a project with no future. Only idealists like George would go all-in, even if it meant risking everything.
Teddy smiled good-naturedly and glanced at Roy, "He's right. Sometimes, dreams require a touch of irrationality and a hint of madness." With such a simple statement, Roy's blood boiled.
For so many years, he had witnessed one dream after another crumble in his role as a publicist. Even he thought he had become a soulless shell, giving up on dreaming, giving up on striving, and giving up on resistance. But now, in this moment, looking at Teddy, at George, and at Renly, he felt a glimmer of light deep within his heart once again.
"What do you think?" Teddy smiled and said. Roy knew he was addressing him, so he nodded. "Perhaps this is where the album's name comes from."
Don Quixote, the fool who fought windmills.