Layer 32 Taking the Rap, Talking Crap.

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Film One. Our first venture into making a music DVD.

Scene One. A large commercial estate, somewhere in south east London. Early evening. The two young singers, their manager, their record producer, and a couple of their friends arrive. My business partner and I unload the gear from his vehicle and set up the camera and the lights in the rented studio. We’re good to go. Let’s rock.

Take one. Action! I hit the clapper board. Clack!! Something I’ve always wanted to do. The soundtrack plays from the portable hi-fi, unexpectedly melodic, gentle and subtle:

Quiet rap voice, saying, “Sex, drugs and violence will destroy us -
We need to focus . . . "

Second voice, singing, imploring,
“We don't need to hurt each other,
You're my sister, you're my brother . . .”

It's going well. The two singers - the stars - dressed in cool casuals with yellow turbans around their dreadlocks, are moving well, swaying gently, singing sweetly, looking cool, relaxed . . .

Over to the right their crew are sorting out some drinks and food. I’m not sure why they’re even in the studio when they could be doing this next door in the lounge area, but it‘s none of my business. For all I know they could be having a party right there. Guinness flows. The takeaway bags are emptied out, the food shared out. But what's this? Problems?

(To the sound of “We don’t need to hurt each other . . . “)

“Hey man! This chicken’s hard!”

“Don't shout at me man. It's not my fault!”

“And the chips are fuckin’ cold!”

“I told you don’t shout at me man! I did you a favour going to get some food!”

“This food is shit! I can‘t eat this!”

The film-maker joins in - “Hey! What's going on? Be quiet!”

“Don't you start shouting at me as well!”

“We’re trying to work here! This is a take!”

“You’re disrespecting me man!”

.

"Don't talk to him like that!"

“Fuck you! You better come outside and we can deal with this!”

And so on. Ho hum.

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Scene Two. Outside. Semi-darkness. Sounds of shouts, threats, challenges. Voices calling out, pleading for calmness and peace. More shouted accusations, counter-accusations, and general “cussing”.

How did we get here? Evidently the record producer and the manager have a history of rivalry and mutual suspicion. Both of them sense that this is a really good song, and someone could make a lot of money from the success of the song, especially if the promotion is good and effective, especially if this video turns out well. They both want some creative input into the video. They both want some influence on the finished product. The video director, on the other hand, has his own ideas, though he’s now threatening to pack up his gear and go home if these fuckwits can’t calm themselves down and allow the filming to go ahead immediately. Nobody needs this shit to be happening, and nobody really understands why it is. The singers stay out of it, and roll another spliff.

Eventually the manager and the record producer wander off down the road between the deserted business units, talking animatedly, but at least not stabbing or shooting one another. In fact they’re not even throwing punches, though it seemed like a close call. It seemed for a while there like things were really starting to rumble. Really kicking off, as they say in this part of the world.

When they come back they’ve apologized to one another, and each is explaining how they’ve had a stressful day, and how the sudden warm temperatures have made it even more tiring and ‘stressful’. We’re just not used to warm weather in this country. The manager’s been dealing with high-powered lawyers all day, big-shot record company executives - nothing to do with these young rasta hopefuls - some other artists he’s handling, an act he’s pushing hard. Some soul sisters, some R & B good-looking shooting star look out we’re about to take off can’t fail to hit the big time chicks. The mother lode. The big bucks. The jackpot. Or so he reckons.

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So what’s happening, man? What’s really going in here? What’s causing this weirdness, this stupidity? This complete and utter lack of emotional and spiritual intelligence?

Here we have some guys, the video director included, who appear to have some issues. All kinds of crap to do with flakey egos, frustration, stress, ambition, greed, exhaustion, desperation, rivalry, pride, possessiveness, jealousy, anxiety, thoughtlessness, and lack of kindness and consideration.

For the rest of the evening the record producer was desperate to explain himself and justify his behavior - to anyone who cared to, or had the time to, listen. He's only 24, and I’d guess he had a track record of getting into trouble thanks to his tendency to sound off first and think about the matter later. He was pretty choked, and really close to tears - just a big kid really.

The manager, the Big Man, having explained all about his heavy day, said his farewells and left us all to get on with this business of making a video, which, it seemed, he hadn’t been keen to do in the first place - because he hadn’t instigated it himself. The thing is, he was a charming and clearly not stupid guy, provided people were deferring to him and things were looking positive as far as he was concerned. I’ve known a lot worse.

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To be continued.