"Left everyone far behind?"
Leon didn't quite understand this sentence at first, until Bonnie called up the real data on the computer. He was so surprised he was completely speechless.
The data for Rolling in the Deep this week was equivalent to the sum of the second to fourth places.
In other words, Katy Perry plus Rihanna, plus Robbie...
Their hit singles added together were still defeated by Adele.
"Incredible, isn't it? No one expected this number..." There was a hint of resentment in Bonnie's eyes.
How exactly did this plain-looking British chubby girl do it?
The last time such a dominant single appeared traced back to Ke$ha's TiK ToK in 2009.
"This girl's strength is more than just this... Her album 21 will be officially released next week." Old Mike paused and continued, "My friend working at Sony Music told me they are already popping champagne in advance to celebrate Adele sweeping all awards this year."
"You mean, works like Rolling in the Deep, there are many more in Adele's new album?" Leon showed a surprised expression again.
"I didn't say that. Even MJ or Bob Dylan couldn't make every song in an album a masterpiece, but Sony Music is indeed very ambitious about this record." Old Mike spread his hands and said.
The great heat of Adele's new song completely overshadowed the heat of Leon's beef with Chris Brown some time ago. Now no one cares about this matter anymore.
In fact, other singers' scandals and black material were also swallowed by the "Adele Phenomenon."
To obtain the North American agency rights for the album 21, Sony paid a sky-high agency fee to XL Recordings in the UK.
Now it seems this money was completely worth it.
According to media revelations, the inspiration for Adele's entire album came from that ex-boyfriend ten years older than her; the two had long broken up.
"Adele and Taylor are really two amazing women... always able to draw endless inspiration from men." Leon sighed like this.
A wonderful idea suddenly popped into his head. If he could sign Taylor, then develop a romance...
Then he could rely on repeatedly hurting Taylor to let her repeatedly gain inspiration, thus truly turning into a perpetual motion money-printing machine.
Such efficiency might be even fiercer than the cheat of Inspiration Refresh mechanism.
Leon waved his hand, wanting to skip the topic of Adele.
Every year, phenomenal newcomers emerge in the music world; some can even become history-level superstars.
But all these had nothing to do with him; he could only be envious and increase his mental internal friction in vain.
He lit a cigarette, crossed his legs, and said, "Let's talk about Quincy Jones. You used to work at his company."
"Man, why do you suddenly mention this Black Jew?" Mike looked disgusted, not wanting to hear this name at all.
"Just asking." Leon replied.
"He is a stingy and cunning bastard, should be locked in Simon Legree's plantation eating whips forever!"
Old Mike seemed to suddenly open a chatterbox, continuously accusing Quincy Jones of his crimes.
In the 90s, Mike, who had worked with George Lucas for many years, was already a slightly famous photographer in the circle.
In 1993, invited by Quincy Jones, he joined the fledging Vibe magazine.
In that golden age of gangsta rap, everyone wanted to lick a mouthful of cream from this big cake.
Vibe was indeed a huge success. At its peak, the circulation of each issue remained at 300,000 copies, the undisputed leader of hip-hop magazines.
"Quincy, this jerk, always likes to deduct wages. The team recruited a large number of editors and photographers from Eastern Europe..."
"These people were forced to leave their hometowns due to the drastic changes in Eastern Europe. As a result, as soon as they arrived in America, they encountered cruel capitalists, slave owners."
"Because they had no legal status, Quincy exploited them unscrupulously, even more cruelly than the southern plantation owners exploited their ancestors..."
"Those young Eastern European girls in the magazine agency, none of them haven't been slept with by this old guy, and their husbands could only swallow their anger for survival."
While recounting these past events, Mike unknowingly smoked a lot of cigarettes.
The more Leon listened, the tighter his brows furrowed.
Not out of empathy for the victims in this story, nor out of disgust for Quincy Jones.
It was entirely because doing business with a cunning villain is far more difficult than with a decent and honest person.
It wasn't hard to imagine that when dealing with Quincy in the future, mutual scheming would be inevitable, and a little carelessness could lead to pitfalls.
Mike took a deep drag on his cigarette and continued, "MJ once respected him as a teacher, and he blackmailed MJ more than once over copyright issues."
"In 2003, when MJ was deeply mired in scandals, he announced in front of the media to draw a clear line with MJ..."
"Quincy living so long made me doubt my faith at one point... Why doesn't God punish this bastard?"
Leon snorted coldly, scoffing at this.
Sin and punishment were originally sayings by the medieval church to numb the bottom-layer people.
Evil people accumulating wealth by any means will go to hell, while you working diligently can go to heaven!
The purpose was nothing more than to make these ignorant European peasants content to be beasts of burden.
Leon refilled his coffee and continued to ask, "Let's talk serious business. Do you know what hobbies Quincy has?"
"Money, women... or more money and younger women." Mike spread his hands in response.
"That's it?"
"This bastard is almost 80 years old and rarely appears in front of the camera." Mike thought for a moment and continued, "Every May, the Care for Africa charity dinner held in Harlem... this bastard never misses it to create a benevolent image."
"But there is a condition, that participating celebrities must have proof of donating money and goods to African children. Attending this banquet counts as entering Quincy's circle."
Donating money?
Hearing this word, every cell in Leon's body resisted.
Nevertheless, he gritted his teeth and asked, "How much needs to be donated?"
"I heard at least 1 million dollars."
"WTF? Are they crazy?"
No one knows how much of this one million dollars can turn into food in children's hands, and how much will turn into ammunition in the hands of warlords.
Setting aside these emotions, he couldn't possibly pay this money. Even reducing two zeros was impossible.
"Actually, donating some money does you no harm. Anyway, this money isn't given to Quincy... With your current status, having a good reputation for being keen on charity is quite important."
"Those titles mean nothing to me." Leon curled his lips and said.
"No, you are very wrong to think so! Think about Angelina Jolie's current status; it is inseparable from her contribution to international humanitarian causes!"
Mike got a little emotional as he spoke.
Although he was an old lecher, he had higher moral standards for others and had white leftist tendencies; to put it bluntly, double standards.
Leon quickly ended this topic. He had already obtained information about Quincy Jones and didn't want to have a meaningless debate on moral issues with Mike.
After Mike left, Leon assigned the promotion plan for the Apocalypse label after the start of 2011 to Bonnie.
Ariana's debut record was in production and was expected to be released at the end of January.
The promotion focus was mainly on young groups in middle-class communities and Hispanic communities.
The heat of Cardi B's Bodak Yellow had long passed. Currently, the title track hovered outside the top fifty on the Billboard charts.
Leon's requirement for her was to release a new album this year.
This was simply a piece of cake for Cardi B. Her tunnel was connected to her brain, and obscene inspiration flowed continuously.
Leon had just listened to the demo of the new song sent by Cardi B a few days ago. His evaluation was: Compared to this new song, Bodak Yellow was as pure as a Disney fairy tale.
As for Robbie, Faded would very likely become a divine song, a cultural symbol.
Staying hot for a long time like TiK ToK...
After arranging all this, Leon bought a ticket to fly to Los Angeles early the next morning.
Robbie had been calling to complain about her poor state a few days ago, unable to get into character on set.
Regarding her cross-border behavior as a singer, director Martin Scorsese was seriously dissatisfied.
He even implicitly hinted at deleting Robbie's scenes and changing the female lead.
All these changes made Robbie depressed, and her period cycle was once disordered.
Leon understood in seconds after listening. Robbie obviously lacked the nourishment of love and wanted to eat takeout.
In order not to let his money-printing machine malfunction, he could only arrange the "lubricant" takeout in place from thousands of miles away.
Upon learning this news, Robbie's gloom was swept away. She immediately stated that she had done deep beauty treatments on her whole body, especially her hair.
All the "hair" all over her body.
Before Leon boarded the plane, she specially sent a close-up selfie for him to appreciate.
At noon the next day, the first thing Leon did after getting off the plane was not to see Robbie, but to see Kendrick.
Loading ammunition for Robbie on this trip to Los Angeles was just an additional task. The main thing was trouble with the authorization issue of the Straight Outta Compton movie.
For the needs of movie filming, Leon asked Phil to register a film company named Apocalypse Pictures a few days ago.
This company had nothing now; it was completely a shell prepared for the convenience of signing various agreements later.
With Kendrick stepping in, Dr. Dre agreed to authorization almost without any hesitation and didn't tangle too much on the box office share ratio.
He was simply too rich; a 1% or 2% box office share made no difference to him.
The only requirement was that the ngga playing him must be cool and gangsta enough.
The other two members, MC Ren and DJ Yella, didn't ask too much either; they had been eliminated by the times.
When learning they could get a $50,000 authorization fee at once, they couldn't wait to sign the authorization letter, afraid that Apocalypse Pictures would regret if they signed slowly.
The hardest to deal with was Ice Cube. This ngga was the person who benefited most from the N.W.A legacy besides Dr. Dre.
In the rap circle, he was a well-deserved OG. In the film circle, he became a famous movie star with xXx: State of the Union.
Because of his tense relationship with Dr. Dre and Eazy-E, he had no interest in the N.W.A biopic matter.
Kendrick understood he couldn't settle Ice Cube by himself, so he could only ask Leon to come to Los Angeles to find another way.
Their meeting place was the notorious city of gangs—Compton.
A city that cannot be bypassed when talking about the origin of gangsta rap and gangsta culture.
In 1971, young Black man Stanley Williams founded the Crips in Los Angeles.
This poor ngga was keen on using violence to win everything he wanted from a very young age.
Relying on extreme cruelty and conceit, plus a strong physique of 135 kg like a beast, he rapidly expanded the Crips' sphere of influence.
In just one "battle" of gang fighting and competing for control of drug trafficking in 1971, the Crips took hundreds of lives.
And the equally notorious Bloods were also an alliance formed by other Black gangs in Los Angeles for self-protection against the threat of the Crips.
Nowadays, hundreds of thousands of Black teenagers across the US claim to be related to Crips and Bloods, even becoming an American cultural symbol.
Until Stanley was executed in California in 2005, Compton remained the poorest city with the worst security in the Greater Los Angeles area.
Davis followed Leon closely without leaving a step.
He had long mixed in the underground rap circle. Although he hadn't participated in criminal activities like drug trafficking, he was proficient in various gang cultures.
Able to read the meanings expressed by various gang gestures and languages.
As soon as they got off the car, they felt the "enthusiasm" of Compton.
Those nggas on the street puffing smoke clouds stopped their movements unanimously and stared at them.
Two strange faces appearing on the streets of Compton, a Black and white combination, was hard not to attract attention.
"Hey ngga, where do you roll?" A tall, thin ngga on the roadside wearing a blue bandana and walking a pit bull shouted loudly.
Although he was as thin as a bamboo pole and seemed like he would fall at a touch, looking not like Davis's opponent...
But both Leon and Davis knew clearly that if they provoked the other party here, they might be turned into sieves instantly!
Davis said nothing, just made a "C" gesture with his hand.
In Crip culture, this gesture represents Crips, meaning one of their own.
Davis didn't want to cause trouble, pressing close to Leon wanting to leave quickly, but the tall ngga was still relentless.
"Family? How come I haven't seen you? Where are you from?"
"New York, Brownsville... came here to find my homie. He told me there are many hot chicks in Compton..."
This explanation finally made the tall Black man relax his vigilance and laugh.
He made a welcome gesture. "Hey yo bro~ Compton girls are the best. Hope you have fun here."
"By the way, remember not to conflict with anyone, keep a low profile... This is 'Saint' Robinson's territory. You should have heard this name."
After walking on the street for not long, Leon found the big house Kendrick mentioned on the phone.
Although this house looked a bit old, it was exceptionally conspicuous in Compton where shacks were everywhere.
Just the floor area exceeding 9,000 square feet and the luxurious three-story building were far beyond what other nggas here could compare with.
Leon called Kendrick. A minute later, the door opened.
Behind Kendrick stood two tall nggas. They covered their faces tightly with bandanas, but still revealed some twisted gang tattoos.
Just looking at the appearance, one knew they were gang members, the kind of die-hard gang members who regarded being a gangster as a lifelong pursuit.
As soon as they met, Kendrick rushed up for a bear hug. "Leon, welcome to Compton, Bro!"
"Why are you always so mysterious on the phone? Couldn't you just say the specific meeting place?" Leon raised his question straight to the point.
"Hehe... because some things are inconvenient to say on the phone. You know, surveillance is everywhere now! You'll know what's going on later."
Kendrick led Leon into the house. More gang members appeared in the line of sight.
Through their sagging jeans, shiny pistols could be clearly seen.
In the center of the living room, a Black man lay leisurely on the sofa.
His image was different from all other nggas here.
He wore a decent custom suit, a high-end Rolex watch on his hand, and not a trace of tattoo could be found even on the exposed skin.
But the nggas in the room who looked full of gangsta aura consciously kept a distance from him, as if separated by an air wall.
At this moment, he was lazily rubbing the game controller in his hand, fully absorbed in controlling the protagonist CJ in GTA: San Andreas to grab turf from the Ballas gang.