American Entertainment: Taylor Swift wrote a song for the beginning

Chapter 33 Sand Sculpture Song
JFK Airport, Queens, New York
Nearing evening, the Dead Rat group, who had been waiting at the designated meeting place for three hours, finally saw Ryan and Joel who had arrived late. The two looked very embarrassed. Ryan's hair was disheveled and sweat was oozing from his forehead. He was carrying two travel bags in his left hand and a suitcase in his right hand. Joel's glasses were missing and the sleeve of his clothes was somehow torn off. He was gasping for breath.

"The New York subway is like a maze. We took the wrong train and even got in trouble with a lunatic in the car..." Ryan gulped down a whole bottle of mineral water.

"I told you, never go to an empty car on the New York subway." Joel took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his face.

"Joel's cell phone was also stolen by a black boy," Ryan explained.

"I just bought an iPhone (first generation). That phone can send LOLcats pictures, um, a kind of internet meme picture, let's not talk about that, luckily Ryan ran fast enough." Joel patted Ryan on the shoulder.

"He ran desperately and I chased him desperately. In the end, even he couldn't hold on any longer and returned the phone to me." Ryan nodded.

"Then we rushed here non-stop." Joel looked at his watch.

"We shouldn't be late... too long, right?" Ryan laughed. Joel chose Southwest Airlines to save some baggage check-in fees. The seats were cramped, but the key point was that Southwest Airlines didn't land at JFK Airport, but at LaGuardia Airport. So the two of them had to rush here in a panic, but ended up going in the wrong direction, which led to a series of chain reactions. Fortunately, the original owner had lived in this city for less than a year.

Dead Rat's agent Marvin wiped his face with his hand, his expression as ugly as if he had eaten a fly.

"Are these two really reliable?" He turned around, put his head close to the dead mouse, and asked quietly.

Dead Mouse also looked a little embarrassed, noticing the large and small luggage the two were carrying: "So, you're moving to New York?"

Joel noticed that the dead rat group took almost nothing, and suddenly realized what was going on. He made up an excuse: "You know, in order to achieve the best performance effect, we usually bring our own performance equipment."

It seems that the two of them have no performance experience, and they are so embarrassed.

"We still have an hour to reach the nightclub in Harlem. If there is no traffic jam at the RFK Bridge, we can still make it within the stipulated time." Marvin smiled, but suddenly changed his expression the next second and roared: "The premise is that you two can move this pile of junk to the commercial vehicle within one minute, right now!"

·
Fortunately, there was no traffic jam on the RFK Bridge and the driver was quite capable, giving Ryan and Joel only fifteen minutes to prepare, but they still couldn't change their equipment.

"Ryan, have you noticed anything strange around you?" Joel, who was fiddling with the cables with his head down, looked up at this time.

"I noticed, there are more black people in this nightclub." Ryan, who was standing next to him, nodded.

There are already a large number of black people gathered in the indoor nightclub at this moment, but white people are very few in number.

This was unusual, as black audiences were a minority at ultra festivals before.

It’s not that black people don’t have the talent to make electronic music. In fact, music is the racial talent of black people, and American music is roughly equivalent to black music.

In the field of electronic music, house and techno styles were created by black people, and there are also many "electronic music veterans" like Carl Cox among black people. Dr. Dre's first performance in front of an audience was also as a DJ. But black people don't like to listen to electronic music at all.

"This is perfectly normal. The only thing black people play at gatherings is hip-hop. This is the new apartheid system of the 21st century. A physical wall can be smashed with a hammer, but the wall in the heart is much harder to tear down. There are so many black people here because we are in Harlem, which is where black people gather in Manhattan." Joel whispered.

"'Black Renaissance'?" Ryan remembered Abigail talking about this part.

"Yes, during the Great Depression, black people accounted for 70% of the population here, which gave birth to a group of black writers, poets, and black theaters. This is the birthplace of American culture. Street culture was half a century later, not to mention hip-pop."

"Then the question is, since black people don't like electronic music, and there are so many black people at the scene..." Ryan had a bad feeling.

"We'll act according to the circumstances. If you don't like electronic music, just play hip-pop instead. You won't kick me out!" Joel was very confident.

Ryan nodded.

The initial warm-up performance went smoothly. Joel brought a classic medley to ignite the scene, and Ryan cut in at the critical moment and played Tremor.

"Put your hands up!" Ryan jumped on the stage to the rhythm with his hands raised high.

But no one responded. The lights in the nightclub were dim, and Ryan could only vaguely see a few "white crescents" that were black people's teeth. The scene could even be described as creepy...

Ryan had no choice but to go back behind the DJ booth.

"Now we can only change the track." Joel began to operate the CD player. The next second, Tremor's bass was sharply amplified, producing a huge roar that was enough to burst the eardrums.

"Shit!" Joel hurriedly turned the button down. All the sounds at the scene disappeared instantly, and everyone at the scene looked at each other in surprise.

"What's going on!" Joel's forehead was sweating and his movements were a little flustered.

"Let me do it." Ryan took over Joel's job.

"Then I'll take control!" Joel took a deep breath and picked up the microphone next to him.

"Um, there seems to be some problem with our equipment. We are preparing to play your favorite hip-pop, bouncing bouncing, tititaka." Joel danced and performed a beatbox.

There was dead silence in the audience.

"Then why don't we tell a joke, haha." Joel laughed awkwardly, just like a TV host who has nothing to say due to technical reasons of live broadcast.

"I can prove that God is black!" said Joel.

"Do you know why? Everyone calls him dad, but... no one has ever seen him, hahahaha!"

"Well, let's do another one. Do you know what the similarities are between Nike and KKK?"

There was a huge booing from the audience.

"They can all make black people run faster!"

·
"Misunderstanding, that child has intellectual problems! I just got the report! I swear, I didn't mean to offend you in any way!"

The sound of Marvin negotiating with the nightclub staff could be heard at the door.

"Wuwuwu..." Joel wiped his tears with a tissue and accidentally touched the bruise on his eye, gasping in pain. Fortunately, Ryan pulled him away immediately, and fortunately it was in Harlem, Manhattan. If it was in Brooklyn or the Bronx, Joel would have been beaten to a pulp.

The dead mouse slumped on the sofa, looking at the ceiling with empty eyes.

Ryan was calling to inquire about a flight back to Nashville tomorrow, as his three-day performance in New York was coming to an end.

After a while, Ryan walked out of the room alone, and when he closed the door, he could still hear Marvin's roar.

"Idiot! You screwed up everything!"

Ryan walked through the corridor and came to the back of the nightclub stage again. He had to find a suitable moment to take back the electronic music equipment placed in the narration without angering these black people. That was Joel's most expensive property, more expensive than his car.

The electronic music performance was directly cancelled. Now the nightclub has become a sea of hip-hop music. Ryan saw several black female dancers doing the butt-shaking dance on the stage.

The nightclub also became a dance hall. Ryan saw many people dancing a special swing dance that originated in Harlem. They stood with their legs still and their upper bodies swung randomly as if they were electrocuted. This was called the Harlem shake.

In an instant, the long-lost strong sense of déjà vu came back, and the bass drum beats that reached Ryan's ears seemed to be subjected to reverberation and delay effects, and the sound of the brass was particularly clear in the strong bass.

"Con los teroristas (With the terrorists)
Ta Ta Ta Ta
And do the Harlem Shake!

Along with the melody, a series of video images emerged in my mind, which are completely different from the previous Tremor MV. This time, a large number of image clips are spliced together. These scenes are very lifelike, and the people in the pictures were doing normal things in the last second, attending classes, going to school, working out, cooking, eating, etc. In the next second, this group of people suddenly wore all kinds of strange costumes, swaying like electric shocks to the rhythm of Harlem Shake, and doing all kinds of weird movements.

Just like the spoof videos on YouTube, the difference between these videos and other spoof videos is that they are constantly imitated and then spread again after being imitated, just like the cycle of a virus constantly replicating and spreading within a group.

Commonly known as viral spread.

Ryan thought of the LOLcat meme pictures Joel was collecting.

Although it's a silly song, it has the potential to become an Internet meme, Ryan thought.

　The reason for choosing a silly song is to become famous quickly and serve the plot. The next song is Progressive House, which is popular with everyone and is quite famous.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)