American Entertainment 1978: New York Night Fever

Chapter 118 Right to Independent Creation

"Tony, finish your breakfast! Don't move around!"

"No! This jam is too sticky! My fingers are stuck together! I'm a robot stuck in glue!" Tony's mouth was full of bread, and his two sticky little hands were waving around in the air, making a mess of the table.

"Oh my god, Mary, I just finished tying your hair! Why did you put Coco's hair up again?" Maria hurriedly grabbed a tissue to wipe it.

At the breakfast table, chaos erupted at the Rossi family's house. The two little rascals had reached the age of being mischievous, and since moving into this large house where they could run wild, they had completely unleashed their true nature, almost overwhelming Maria and Mrs. Rossi.

"Waaah—I wanted to wear the braids with stars on them! Coco made my new dress ugly!" Little Mary looked at her hair in the mirror after finishing breakfast and was about to cry.

Mrs. Rossi sighed; she had no choice but to start all over again.

"Once you're in elementary school, let's see who's going to spoil you then," Joey teased with a smile, slowly sipping his coffee.

"Maria, I'll go pick up Michael first, and we'll meet at Coney Island later." Zeke finished eating and got up to say goodbye.

"no problem."

Zik stepped out of his house; the dentist's somewhat old Chevrolet was already parked in the driveway. The two went to pick him up first.

She slept with Michelle.

Michael specifically asked the dentist to accompany him for safety reasons. The hotel he stayed at was in Harlem, Manhattan, which is also one of the filming locations for "The Wizard of Oz." He stayed there to experience life.

"What made these black guys think of filming a movie here? A fairy tale like 'The Wizard of Oz'?" After entering Harlem, the dentist drove around complaining, "This place smells awful even early in the morning."

"Who knows? Maybe they want to shoot something different," Zike replied casually, looking out the window, fully aware of the dangers lurking around him.

In the late 70s, Harlem was one of the most dangerous and dangerous areas in New York City. The city was experiencing a financial crisis and its police system was ineffective. It was rife with drug trafficking (especially heroin), shootings, arson, and violent robberies. Abandoned buildings and graffiti were everywhere, and public facilities were dilapidated. It took immense courage for an ordinary person to venture into this area.

Fortunately, East Harlem was a major settlement area for Italian immigrants during the first half of the 20th century, and it was also one of the earliest places where the American Mafia established itself. Two of the five major New York Mafia families, the Lucchese and Gambino families, had extremely strong roots and tight organizational networks in East Harlem.

By the 70s, with the departure of white residents, East Harlem gradually became a predominantly minority area, especially Puerto Ricans and Blacks. The Mafia did not easily relinquish this territory; they adopted a proxy strategy: using Black street gangs as fronts to control the drug trade and extortion at the grassroots level.

"If Zeke brings along the dentist from the Lucchese family, at least we'll be safe here."

The dentist grumbled as he parked the car in a reasonably decent neighborhood. Before getting out, Zeke glanced around at the dilapidated surroundings.

He looked at the group of aimless, vacant-eyed Black youths on the street and felt a pang of sympathy. They were born and raised here, the restlessness of this neighborhood flowing in their blood, but even as tourists, they would probably never set foot in that top university just across the street.

Yes, ironically, Columbia University, an Ivy League school, is just one block away in West Harlem from East Harlem. Those top American students and professors could easily fall into the wildest jungle of New York if they took the wrong turn to the east.

"Wait, I haven't finished my hair yet—Jason, open the door for me, it's Zeke."

Michael was staying at a somewhat run-down hotel, and Zeke took Michelle upstairs with him. When they knocked on the door, Michael's slightly high-pitched voice came from inside.

A burly bodyguard opened the door.

When Zeke entered, he saw Michael facing the mirror, carefully loosening his hair roots with a long-handled, wide-toothed comb.

Michael's iconic afro is actually the most difficult hairstyle to maintain for black hair. To keep that perfect hemispherical shape and make every strand of curly hair smooth and not dry, it takes a lot of hair oil and patience.

"Good morning, Michael. This is Michelle, my friend."

"Hello." Michael turned around, smiled shyly, revealing a row of clean, even teeth.

After a brief greeting, Michael said he would be "almost done."

Zeke glanced around his room, his gaze landing on the posters on the wall. There were several posters of Diana Ross there, some with close-ups of her, others with stage photos.

Recalling the juicy gossip Tino had told him, Zeke's eyes suddenly became somewhat subtle.

Is Michael secretly in love with Diana? The age gap is too big; Diana is 33 years old. Judging from the way she looks at it, she probably treats Michael like a son.

He felt a slight urge to laugh, though he knew it was inappropriate. It was like watching a dog or a five- or six-year-old chasing a car; anyone watching knew that even if the dog caught up with all its might, it wouldn't be able to drive it.

"Michael, what do you think of Berry Gordy?" he couldn't help but ask, wanting to probe.

"Mr. Gordy is my role model. I grew up around him and I imitated his every move—" Michael said earnestly while adjusting his collar.

Zik couldn't help but think to himself: He even imitates his aesthetic sense towards women?!

"Ahem, you know... it's about... the relationship between Diana and him, right?" Zeke subtly reminded him.

Michael blushed, as if his secret had been exposed, and understood Zeke's implication: "Yes, you're right, I'll change these posters."

"There are plenty of pretty girls out there, let's hang up a few pictures of young female celebrities." Zeke patted his shoulder, laughing as he changed the subject. "Let's go, everyone's waiting for us on Coney Island."

Jason, the bodyguard sent by Motown to be in charge of Michael's safety, followed behind the "dentist's" car in his vehicle, and the two cars drove away from the chaotic area one after the other.

"Zick, how did you become a songwriter and producer? I've been performing on stage since I was a child, but I've never written a song independently, let alone produced one." As Michael sat in the car, his eyes were full of curiosity.

"I taught myself some music theory, wrote a good song, and then signed with Casablanca," Zik said casually, which was indeed true.

"They gave you creative freedom so easily?" Michael's eyes widened, looking somewhat incredulous. "Didn't they give you a fixed template?"

"Yeah, don't you guys?" Zik was even more surprised. Casablanca never interfered with artists' creative process; in his opinion, wasn't that standard practice?

"No, Motown operates on an assembly line model." Michael shook his head bitterly, his eyes dimming. "We could only sing songs written by others. Things improved after we joined Epic Records, but on our two albums with Epic, we only had one song written by ourselves on each album. Those two albums didn't sell well either."

"Then you've really lost out. You won't get the copyrights to the lyrics and music, or the recording rights either—" Zike lamented, having just made a fortune from these.

"We also want to grow, develop, and achieve something in the music industry, not just as singers and dancers, but also as lyricists..."

"Composition, arrangement, production —" Michael looked at Zeke with envy in his eyes, "Zike, you are amazing, you have done all of these."

"These aren't actually difficult. I wrote my first song after reading just a few books," Zike boasted, then his tone became serious. "If I've learned anything in the record industry, it's that you have to fight for what you want, fight for it with all your might. You can't expect something for nothing."

"Yeah, we have to fight for it ourselves." Michael's face lit up with anticipation, then he changed the subject, "Zick, do you think disco will continue to be a huge phenomenon?"

"Of course, disco is the absolute king. The entire industry's production capacity is being squeezed out, which makes me want to open my own record pressing factory so that I don't run out of records to release later," Zeke joked.

"Our first album, *The Jacksons*, was Philadelphia soul with a touch of disco, while our second album, *Goin' Paces*, had a heavier disco influence and a more powerful rhythm," Michael recalled. "Perhaps we would have achieved better results if we had embraced disco earlier."

"I can't offer any advice on your music, but I believe disco not only changes pop music, it has already changed it —"

Qi Ke was also thinking about when would be a good time to release an album. Now that he had earned his first pot of gold and had his own record and publishing company, the difficulty of putting together an album had been greatly reduced. At worst, he could buy the cover rights to some old songs or obscure tracks, add a few hit singles from Apocalypse, and he could quickly produce an album.

Judging from Apocalypse's song list, he will most likely debut as a rock singer, but rock music is currently far less popular than disco.

Make money through science.

Casablanca, RS0 Records, Weekend Night Fever, John Travolta... these pioneers have expanded disco from the narrow setting of nightclubs to the entire white mainstream society... It's a great time to make money, but unfortunately, the game's cheat code isn't working, and it doesn't have the right disco tracks!