Chapter 93 : The Words a Composer Loves the Most
Chapter 93: The Words a Composer Loves the Most
<Avalanche> became the single title track of Signum’s 2nd album.
Which also meant that Busan Goblin’s song was dropped from the title.
“Wow, did you hear? They said it got pushed back as the follow-up to <Spell!>.”
“Is it fixed?”
“Yes. It was announced earlier. Even the concept has been changed. Wow, looks like there’ll be tons more work.”
“Seeing how Busan Goblin is quiet even after being dropped from the title… somehow, that makes me nervous.”
I didn’t know.
That this would become such a fuss, with people practically shouting about it.
Inside Manny Entertainment’s company café.
While waiting for Assistant Manager Go Minseo, I overheard whispers from all around.
I sat in a corner, sipping coffee.
Sometimes having sharp hearing is troublesome.
Just like right now.
Even though flashy music filled the café, the employees’ conversations pierced clearly into my ears.
To be honest… I also listened carefully because it was a little interesting.
Avalanche, Spell, Busan Goblin, Stay…
When words like those kept pounding into my ears indiscriminately, how could I not listen?
What’s more.
After the title track switch had been confirmed, Busan Goblin hadn’t contacted me at all, which made it even more so.
As I was thinking that.
The real conversation among Manny Entertainment’s employees began.
“Hey, no need to feel nervous.”
“Sorry?”
“They said Busan Goblin himself told them. If Composer Stay was confident, then to give it a push.”
“Wasn’t it more like, ‘Let’s see how well it does after dropping my song’? That kind of nuance?”
“No, that’s not it.”
After a brief silence.
The voices continued.
“You know. Busan Goblin never really cared about others to begin with.”
“That’s true. Especially since Composer Stay is basically a rookie.”
“But for some reason, he seemed really different lately.”
“Could it be a slump? He’s been putting out way too similar stuff lately. I mean, his songs are good, but they were getting a bit stale, weren’t they?”
“As long as it passed quietly, that’s enough.”
“Honestly, I liked Composer Stay’s song way better. Fresh, and easier to listen to.”
“I bet everyone felt that way.”
Similar chatter went on for quite a while.
I felt half relieved, half puzzled.
The Busan Goblin I knew was never a prickly person.
But it seemed others thought differently.
Well, so what.
Everyone has different sides to them.
Thinking that, I reached for my coffee.
“Composer Stay!”
“Huh?”
I heard someone calling me from a distance.
When I looked up, Assistant Manager Go Minseo was waving brightly.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“No.”
“Sorry. The meeting ran a bit longer. Should we move to another spot?”
As we exchanged light greetings.
The expressions of the employees at the next table seemed unusual.
Surely they didn’t think I’d been eavesdropping on them.
Eventually, they began whispering again, then stood up.
Their gazes were fixed on our table.
Huh? They’re coming closer.
No need to think about excuses like, “I was dozing off, so I didn’t hear anything.”
“Whoa, are you really Composer Stay?”
“No way. We honestly didn’t know.”
“Wow. We heard you don’t look like a composer, and it’s true. Nice to meet you.”
Is there even such a thing as looking like a composer, or not looking like one?
I also stood up and greeted them politely.
“Hello. I’m Stay.”
“We really enjoy your songs.”
“My daughter loves Super Ride too. At her kindergarten, the kids keep singing ‘Shoo shoo shoo Super Ride,’ and it’s so cute.”
Compliments poured out.
If they were meant to make me feel good, they succeeded.
…Because I really did feel good.
Hearing that people enjoyed my songs.
Who wouldn’t be happy about that?
“<Avalanche> feels promising. We’ll look forward to it. Please take good care of us.”
“I should be the one saying that.”
I received a whole bunch of business cards.
Their affiliations were varied.
No wonder their outfits and speaking styles had all been different.
After the formal greetings, I sat back down with Go Minseo.
Assistant Manager Go Minseo.
This person had something special too.
When talking about music, she was very friendly.
But when discussing work, she became a seasoned office worker.
Her pronunciation was precise, her voice high-toned but crisp without any noise.
In short, she looked professional.
“Things changed suddenly, so it must have been a bit surprising. Thank you for your understanding. First, please check this.”
“What’s this?”
“It’s a rough outline of the schedule from here on.”
I accepted the paper and looked over it—it was a kind of timeline for the release schedule.
I had known already, but seeing it visually organized, it really showed how much there was to do.
“Thank you for sharing this.”
“You’re prepared, right?”
Huh?
Prepared? Me? For what?
Did my thoughts show on my face?
Assistant Manager Go Minseo smiled softly and began to explain.
“You’re the track producer, aren’t you? And for the title track at that.”
“That’s true.”
“Since it’s our policy to match the overall tone together. For now, the first thing we need to think about is……”
Ah. So that’s what it was.
The conclusion was this.
Composer Stay, since you’re the track producer, you have to participate in everything!
……I like it.
This way, I’ll end up learning a lot more than I thought.
For me, this project wasn’t just simple producing.
It was more like… a strategy to aim for bigger waters?
Luckily, the strategy worked perfectly.
Well, at least for now.
Busy, busy.
But still fun.
Even though I was pulling my hair out.
Signum’s 2nd album single was proceeding smoothly.
Being the title track producer.
There was quite a lot to keep track of.
More than I thought.
<Avalanche> wasn’t just a title track.
It was the centerpiece of the Signum universe.
As soon as I caught my breath, calls poured in.
They shared even small things with me and asked for my opinion.
For example, things like this.
“Did you check the mixing and mastering? If you need any adjustments, please let us know.”
“In the first verse, it would be nice if the bass were pulled a bit more forward.”
At least, talking about music was fun.
The texture of sound changed with just the smallest difference.
Lumé Sound.
It was a label I definitely wanted to work with again someday.
They didn’t miss even the most delicate points.
“The vocal reverb drags a bit long only in the bridge—would it be possible to adjust that too?”
“Ah, it might be good to settle the emotion before moving forward.”
“What if we tried going tighter?”
“Right, then I’ll tell them to set the delay feedback shorter.”
How could they understand so perfectly, like magic?
This was fun. This was exactly why producing was worthwhile.
But work never went just as expected.
“Writer, have you checked the draft of the choreography?”
“Excuse me?”
“We also sent you the schedule for the music video.”
“Music… what?”
……So it wasn’t limited to music?
I didn’t know that track producers also had to care about choreography and music videos.
“Since you’re the title track producer. That’s our company policy. At least check whether it fits the mood you had in mind.”
That’s when I realized.
It was still too soon for me to take on creative directing.
There was still so much I had to learn.
Especially that thing called an aesthetic perspective.
I hadn’t figured it out clearly yet.
It was really profound.
And honestly, I thought I was pretty far from that kind of aesthetic sense.
Even so—this.
It was actually… quite doable?
“Composer Stay, you have great sense.”
“I just said what came to mind.”
“That’s the really hard part. Most people speak vaguely, but you hit the key points directly, so it made things easier.”
Of course, I didn’t understand half of it.
But the important thing was this.
That I could describe the mood I imagined precisely.
Manny Entertainment.
Seeing it firsthand, it was structured yet free.
An atmosphere where ideas were exchanged regardless of rank.
I shared my opinions comfortably too.
Since I was the producer of the title track <Avalanche>.
If you’re the title track producer, you can’t just write a good song anymore.
You have to handle all sorts of things.
And just when I thought everything was finally done.
“Does the track producer also join music video meetings?”
“The participation is a bit limited, but the director said he definitely wants to meet you and ask something.”
I ended up participating in the music video planning meeting too.
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
There was no reason to refuse.
They said just producing the music video cost 1 billion won.
If that’s the case, then I’d be experiencing firsthand how 1 billion won was spent, how a music video made with 1 billion won came to be.
It was a priceless experience I couldn’t buy with money.
I was excited.
I thought I could just sit quietly and come back afterward.
Of course, that was only if that were actually possible.
What words does a composer love to hear the most?
That the song is good?
That the beat is chewy?
That it’s insanely addictive?
No.
Of course, those are all humbling compliments.
But the words we really love are something else.
“Signum found a song that suits them perfectly?”
That’s it.
The words I could keep hearing forever.
When the music video director greeted me first with those words.
All the strength drained from my body.
The hidden worries and tension I had instantly flew away.
It felt like my chest had cleared out.
Director Na Seongmin opened the meeting.
“It was amazing, PD. What you wanted to show was crystal clear.”
Then the staff continued speaking.
“The character inside the melody is alive.”
“Thanks to that, the storyboard came out quickly.”
“Because of you, Writer, I signed up at a music academy. For bass.”
Were planning meetings always like this?
I didn’t know. It felt like they were either trying to ease my tension, or maybe half of it was genuine.
Either way, one thing was certain—it was a warm atmosphere.
Everyone was friendly toward me.
Except for one person, the assistant director.
“I heard the producer was a rookie and a bit young. But you look even younger than I expected, so I was surprised. I thought you’d at least be in your late 20s. Geez, I thought one of the members had shown up. Is it just me?”
“Ha, ha ha. Assistant Director… maybe word it a bit more nicely…”
“Why? Is that a bad thing to say?”
Why was everyone watching each other so carefully?
I didn’t mind.
I smiled naturally and replied.
“Thank you. People often tell me I fit well with Signum.”
That assistant director, from what I felt, just needed a break.
When you’re tired, your words can come out a little sharp.
Sure, sure.
I decided to take it that way.
If you put too much meaning into every word and start analyzing, in the end the only one who gets exhausted is you.
“Alright, let’s leave the greetings at that.”
Led by the music video director.
Manny Entertainment’s performance director, art director, production team, manager in charge, the director’s staff…
Nearly ten people gathered together.
Once the simple setup was finished.
The meeting began.
“First, we’ll start by explaining the song’s mood. For the boy group Signum’s 2nd single album, with the title track <Avalanche> at the lead, the follow-up song will be……”
A mood board appeared on the screen.
“The key keyword of the lyrics is Avalanche, meaning ‘snow slide.’ Through the instrument bass, the song expresses excitement and determination……”
Beginning with the worldbuilding explanation.
Reference videos, images, number of sets, costume concepts, filming locations, and more.
The discussion continued nonstop.
“Think of Set A as focused on performance, while Set B is centered on story cuts.”
I opened my laptop and concentrated on the meeting.
Was I too immersed?
As they talked about the choreography movements, the rhythm of the song flowed in my head alongside it.
I didn’t know the difficult terms or directing knowledge.
But I was the one who knew the song best.
Still.
That assistant director with the scruffy beard—if he had something to say, he could just say it.
Why did he keep glancing at me like that?
A few days later.
I visited the production again.
To check the draft of the storyboard.
When I entered the meeting room, the assistant director was sitting alone, looking over something.
His scruffy beard was still there.
“Hello.”
When I greeted him, he lifted his head.
“Oh? You came again today. I thought you wouldn’t show up.”
That dry tone of voice hadn’t changed.
I answered calmly.
“The assistant manager who contacted me asked me to make sure I attended.”
“Ah, right, Kim Assistant Manager…”
While I looked over the storyboard, the other participants began to arrive one by one.
Soon, the meeting began.
The contents from last time felt more clearly organized.
“Alright, let’s hear feedback.”
We went around sharing opinions.
The choreography team discussed the movements, the art team discussed the stage setup, and so on.
There wasn’t really a place for me to step in.
There were a few parts I found odd, but I judged it wasn’t my role to speak first.
After the exchange of opinions wrapped up.
“Producer Stay, you have no objections, right? If not, then we’ll……”
The assistant director was about to close the meeting.
“Hm? Wait a moment.”
Director Na Seongmin cut in.
Then he turned to me and asked.
“I’d like to hear your opinion too, PD. How was it? You must have been bored, since it was your first time joining a session like this.”
In that moment, everyone’s eyes turned sharply toward me.
This was… a chance, wasn’t it?
“Ah, during the bridge, the set transition felt a bit rushed.”
“Oh? Really? What kind of feeling was that?”
At the director’s question, the assistant director’s brow furrowed.
I didn’t care.
I gave my opinion without holding back.