Huayu 2005: Chat groups are full of real celebrities

Chapter 16 A Revolution No One Understands

In fact, after returning home yesterday, Liu Yifei specifically consulted someone.

From song production to promotion and distribution, and then to channel development.

They asked very detailed questions.

Because she knew it very well.

Writing a song is just the beginning.

Singing it out is just the beginning.

For it to truly be heard by the audience, accepted by the market, and sung by fans, a mature and complex operating system is needed.

Production, distribution, channels, promotion...

Interlocking.

The absence of any one link could cause a good song to disappear without a trace.

These are things that a newly established small studio cannot easily solve.

Several professionals in the industry gave surprisingly consistent opinions.

The song is a good song.

It was even better than they had expected.

However, the idea of setting up a studio seems a bit too idealistic.

The safest approach is to sign a contract with Sonia.

The song copyrights are packaged and sold, with the other party responsible for production, distribution, and promotion.

Maximize profits by leveraging established channels and resources.

This is the most common and safest practice in the industry.

Logically speaking...

Given her current status and experience, she shouldn't trust Jiang Bei, a "three-nothing grassroots" person with no qualifications, no fame, and no background.

But she still came.

Perhaps it's those two songs.

Perhaps it's his astonishing remarks that always leave people stunned.

Or perhaps there's something about this guy that's inexplicable yet makes you want to believe in him again.

Thinking of this, Liu Yifei looked at Jiangbei with an unusually serious expression:

"After establishing the studio."

How do I upload a song?

Almost as soon as she finished speaking.

Jiang Bei blurted out without even thinking:

"Didn't I already say? Of course, we'll go online!"

The tone was so matter-of-fact, as if saying, "You have to use chopsticks to eat."

Zhu Yiwen was stunned for a moment.

"network?"

He frowned instinctively.

"Just online? No record releases?"

In this day and age, the Internet is far less developed than it is in later generations.

Smartphones won't really appear for another two years.

Video and music websites are just emerging.

Let alone the general public having internet access, many people have barely even touched a computer a few times.

People like Zhu Yiwen and Liu Yifei, who regularly go online, chat on QQ, and read the news, are already considered seasoned netizens.

So in their eyes—

The internet is where grassroots singers find their niche.

If you really want to make music, you still have to go through the record company route.

Release albums, chart rankings, radio appearances, and distribution channels.

This is the orthodox way.

How could someone like Liu Yifei, a top-tier celebrity, be allowed to...?

Go online and release songs?

The mere fact that it "devalues" is enough to make people in the industry laugh for half a year.

Clearly, Jiang Bei had also noticed their concerns.

He waved his hand dismissively, his tone as certain as if he were announcing a standard answer:

"What era are we living in? Still releasing physical records?"

"The future belongs to digital media!"

"The internet is the channel we should focus our efforts on!"

"Digital media?"

Liu Yifei and Zhu Yiwen were both taken aback.

This was the first time they had ever heard this word.

And what's even more outrageous is—

Jiang Bei spoke these words as if stating common sense.

The problem is that his "common sense" is almost contrary to the entire traditional music industry.

For a moment, neither of them could quite keep up with the train of thought.

Seeing this, Jiang Bei suddenly asked:

How do you usually listen to music?

"A CD."

Zhu Yiwen's answer was perfectly natural.

Liu Yifei even took out a portable CD player from her bag and waved it in front of him:

"Same."

Jiang Bei facepalmed, his expression as if he were watching two primitive men holding stone axes discussing the future Industrial Revolution.

"Alright."

"Never mind, I didn't ask."

Liu Yifei: "..."

Zhu Yiwen: "..."

I felt like I was being looked down upon.

Jiang Bei ignored them and, after a moment's hesitation, pulled out his Nokia 7610.

Turn off the device, remove the back cover, remove the battery, and then take out the memory card inside.

His movements were so practiced, it was as if he had practiced them eight hundred times.

"See that?"

"64M".

"It can hold an entire album."

He was holding the memory card.

"And it can also be updated with new songs at any time."

At this point, Jiangbei suddenly asked a question.

"What if this thing's capacity were increased tenfold or twentyfold?"

"Improve the sound quality a bit more."

"Then who will still buy CDs?"

"Who would still buy cassette tapes?"

The living room fell silent instantly, and both of them were stunned.

In their eyes, a mobile phone is just a tool for making calls and sending text messages, and at most, chatting on QQ.

But the meaning in the Jiangbei dialect is—

Will this thing one day kill the Walkman? Kill the CD player?

Could it even wipe out the entire physical music market?

This isn't just bold, it's downright absurd.

Liu Yifei subconsciously took the memory card, which was no bigger than a fingernail, and looked at it over and over for a long time, as if trying to see what the future would look like from it.

Zhu Yiwen hesitated before speaking:

Even if the future really is as you say.

"Entering what... the digital media age."

"But the problem is—"

He looked towards the north bank of the river.

How to make money by releasing songs online?

Jiangbei did not rush to answer.

He first put the memory card and battery back into the phone, closed the back cover, and pressed the power button.

His movements were unhurried and deliberate, as if he were doing something he was already used to.

He only looked up at Zhu Yiwen after his phone lit up again.

"Put it on speakerphone and give me a call."

Zhu Yiwen was taken aback: "Now? In person?"

Although he was a little confused, he still did it subconsciously.

The moment the call was dialed, a familiar melody quickly came through the phone.

It was the version of "The Brightest Star in the Night Sky" ringtone made in Jiangbei.

The music slowly filled the small living room, a looping rhythm with a slightly electronic feel, playing for thirty seconds until the system notification sounded: "The number you dialed is temporarily unavailable."

The air fell silent for a brief moment.

Liu Yifei frowned slightly and looked at him:

"You don't just want us to hear demos of your songs, do you?"

His tone was a little speechless, and he seemed a bit confused.

Jiang Bei rubbed his forehead, offering no explanation.

He turned around and walked to the table, taking out the original ThinkPad T43.

Turn on your computer, open your browser, and directly click on Baidu.

Enter keywords: ringtone download rankings.

Press Enter.

The page popped up quickly, and he casually clicked on a ranking page, turning to the two people.

On the screen, lines of data clearly appeared:

[The first snow of 2002: Total downloads 1265 million, 163 million this month]