"Boss, Miss Ciccone is here. Where would you like to meet her?"
"The meeting room, I'll head over in a bit. Get her a drink first."
"Sure thing, Boss."
William White was usually at White Films. He didn't have an office at the other companies. If anyone needed to report, it was either a phone conference or they came here to find him.
As for Miss Madonna visiting today, frankly, he wasn't very interested. There was a rumor later that her appetite was huge, not even fazed by having three or five at a time.
Probably like Tiger Woods, suffering from that so-called disease.
Honestly, if you can't keep it in your pants, just say so. Using a disease to excuse it was really disgraceful.
Madonna was a symbol of that era, representing that lifestyle. Not catching an incurable disease was just her good luck.
"Hello, Miss Ciccone, we meet again. You seem a bit worn out. A break-up got you down?"
"No, no, just a little jet-lagged, maybe."
William White didn't mind the lame excuse. That was her lifestyle.
"Anyone ever tell you your voice is great for singing?"
"My ballet coach did. He said my voice was enchanting."
Okay, William White could fully imagine the setting when the coach for clearing obstacles said that.
"There are two songs here. Take a look. Suzuki, get a keyboard over here."
"Okay, Boss."
"I'll come by in thirty minutes; you get ready."
The songs William gave her were Everybody and Lucky Star. These were the tracks that put her on the map overnight. As for something like Like a Virgin, those were not to be released yet, as it would stir too much controversy at this stage.
William White's straightforwardness left Madonna a bit puzzled. We're not even negotiating, is he sure of himself?
Madonna was overthinking. With William White's status, there was no way he'd discuss terms with some country girl. It's not even a matter if she's a rising star or not; she'd never get to discuss terms with the boss.
Madonna was indeed made for the gig. Not only was she an exceptional dancer, but her songwriting was quite good too.
"So, what do you think?"
"I, I like it a lot. Can I give it a try?"
The girl didn't expect William White to be so skilled with the keyboard, playing without any awkwardness.
You should know, keyboards back then weren't as advanced as later on, more like electronic pianos. Playing disco music like Everybody on such a basic keyboard and reaching that level was quite good.
Madonna handled the stage well. She could do better, sure, but it was a start.
"Uh-huh, nice tone; some technical issues, but it'll do. Got a manager?"
"Not yet."
"Ah, can you handle the legal terms yourself?"
"Yes, I can."
"Great. Suzuki, take her to Legal. Give her a Level A contract, and tell the manager to find someone to train her right away."
"Yes, Boss."
Leaving White Films, Madonna was still a bit dazed. Success seemed to come too easily.
Was she just the company's first singer?
Well, so what? William White had plenty of cash. If he wanted to promote her, anyone could become famous.
Besides, the world outside might not know, but this guy was very talented in music. Who wrote this song!?
She didn't want to dwell on it now, just to sort out her own affairs.
...
William White was not satisfied with MVs as they were in the early '80s. Those guys at Southern California clearly hadn't fully grasped the concept. MV was meant to be fragmented. If you played it straight through, it was just like a stage performance, and those were usually the original singers anyway.
Since the birth of MV, studio singers had basically been phased out. Unless your personal image was appealing, it was hard to become famous.
Looking back at the entire '80s, there were really only two superstars: Michael Jackson and Madonna. Sure, they were talented, but it was MTV that catapulted them to the top.
Their music styles were entirely different, and they differed in gender and race, but they shared one common trait: their stage presence. In the '80s, no one could match them. Before that, a couple of posters would be all you had.
What? Concerts, you say? Well, back then, most were like grand shows. There were very few who could sustain a solo concert themselves.
In those days, lip-syncing wasn't a thing, and equipment wasn't up to par. Making a fool of yourself was common, so it was best not to attempt it lightly.
...
The boss was off playing with MVs, leaving the filming crew speechless. But he was the boss, and there wasn't much they could do about it.
The genius wanted to shoot a music video, and it wasn't just the kids from Southern California who were intrigued; even the professors decided to come and see. Excellence comes first, and that's true everywhere.
"Man, who's that powerhouse on stage? Where'd you find her?" Jason asked.
"Haha, Jason, I'm not underestimating you, but she's too much for you. Her appetite's too big. She'd need a dozen like you."
"Really? She looks so petite, though."
"Haha, I picked her up on Broadway. She was in a pretty rough spot back then. Look at her now; it's only been a few days."
"Ha, she got your backing, or she'd have been swallowed up already."
...
So, that's how it should be shot.
These were the elite of Southern California, and they weren't novices. It was like getting taught firsthand; if you still didn't get it, you might as well pack it up and call it a night.
"Hey, what's this song?"
"Wow, a new song, from a new artist. Planning to give them a big push? Such a waste of talent."
"You guys, quit with the nonsense. I'm an upstanding person."
"Hah!" A bunch of goofballs flipped their middle fingers.
William White didn't mind the teasing from his classmates. If you wanted to push forward relentlessly, you had to be shameless. If you couldn't handle a couple of cheeky comments, you were better off being a good person.
To his classmates, that girl had hit the jackpot. Without his help, she'd have been slogging for years.
This was just the norm in the entertainment industry. They might get thousands of dollars per song, but as a newcomer, you had no qualifications to sing. Only someone like Michael Jackson did.
Opportunities in the record industry were even scarcer than in acting. Unless you were a singer-songwriter, success wouldn't come easily.
Standing out purely with singing ability was impossible. Music colleges were full of talented graduates, and only a few succeeded. Getting to sing backup for the big names was quite an achievement.
Singer-songwriters were different. Even with one hit song, they could ride that wave for a lifetime, singing the same song wherever they went, and still command high fees.
...
Seeing William White on stage singing and dancing, both students and teachers were left in a daze.
"Lemon Tree? Man, this song's really something."
Recording three music videos in one go was no small task. Three songs, three styles -- he was telling the folks down there not to get lazy. Have your own stuff, or you'll hit a wall eventually.
The song that William White supposedly "borrowed" -- bah, bah, bah.
The song he wrote actually suited him well. The music style was a bit fresh and matched his handsome face. It was hard not to become a hit.
...
Madonna's gaze at him had grown strange. His personality was really quite changeable. When he was messing around with her, he seemed dark and moody, but now, he looked like an invincible, boyish youngster.
"Blech, making me look so bad, and now he's acting all youthful. That little punk."
...
Visitors weren't a problem, but leaking content was a big no-no. If anyone let something slip, they'd be out of the circle next time.
A group of entertainment journalists was frustrated. You couldn't just sneak into William White's set. Even if it was rented, you still couldn't get in. The security was professionally trained -- the journalists couldn't compare.
...
The recordings on-site were just for show. Without studio mixing, they'd be laughed at. Fortunately, William White wasn't short on cash. Even without a single singer, he had a top-notch recording studio.
William White was just playing around, so close enough was fine. No one expected him to be like a professional singer. Poor Madonna didn't have the luxury to slack off. She was the company's first singer, and if she didn't perform well, people would revolt.
Luckily, Madonna had no intention of slacking. She was nobody at the moment and had to keep her thoughts to herself.
To be fair, William White was treating her well. Although he was very straightforward during "that" time, the contract was rather fair. As a newbie, you wouldn't get such a deal in Hollywood. Don't doubt it -- sleeping with the boss wouldn't get you that.
The others didn't get it, and William White had no intention to explain. He could have imposed stricter terms, and Madonna would likely still sign.
The special treatment was because he wasn't short on cash and didn't need to squeeze out every penny. If you squeezed too hard, future cooperation wouldn't be possible.
Many singers broke ties with their first companies after making it big. One side thought the other was ungrateful; the other thought they were leeches.
In such cases, if a management company stirred the pot, no need for words -- just break up.
For singers, this was riskier than for actors. If an actor didn't like the sequel, they wouldn't do it. But records were different. Selling albums for decades wasn't uncommon, and the rights to songs didn't belong to the singers. The disputes were too many.
Madonna's first album sold really well, and her second sold over ten million copies. That was a goldmine. In terms of commercial value, only Michael Jackson could compare.
Okay, now someone might complain. Michael Jackson's albums sold over a hundred million, and you've just got ten million -- not even close.
That's true, but you didn't count advertising deals. Madonna also did movies; Michael Jackson didn't have those add-ons. The most crucial part was Michael's childishness -- his emotional intelligence was entirely offline.
*****
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