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“Masters are songs recorded on a device. Once they were physically tapes, now they are hard drives, but they are essentially finished products. When you sell the rights to the masters, the record company can sell the albums with exactly that recording. They cannot modify it, or make new versions unless a new contract is signed for the new masters in their new form.”
“So…” I see that Emily is struggling to follow me.
“The intellectual property of a song, though, is the set of notes on a score that composes the music, lyrics, and melody. The record company doesn’t have the rights to that. Artists hold all rights to the songs their mind creates. Adam’s friend can decide not to give a damn about the masters the old record company owns, but he doesn’t have to give them the rights to distribute that particular version of the song, or re-record those songs with other artists and producers who can create new masters.”
“Okay, I don’t understand where you’re going with this. The masters that the record company owns in your friend’s case have no value because if he wants, he can re-record his music, but I don’t see what that has to do with the Jailbirds.”
“Negotiating power…or, to be specific, blackmail.” I smile. The excitement running through my body is giving me new life.
“And? I’ve only been a manager for two days. I don’t yet understand your tricks,” she says, amused.
My lips arch in response. I can’t believe it was so simple. “We don’t need to go and renegotiate this contract. We’ll offer him one to distribute his music.”
I see the realization making its way across Emily’s face, and a smile appears. “So, we’ve found our next client?”
“If he wants to re-record his music, yes. I’ll have to call him to see if he wants to do it.”
“It’s so unbelievably simple!” she squeaks excitedly, and I can’t hold back a chuckle. “Too bad we can’t use this loophole for the Jailbirds,” she adds.
My smile spreads on my lips. “Not exactly.”
She scrutinizes me carefully, frowning but doesn’t utter a word.
“I need a list of all the old record company’s former artists,” I add before explaining what I have in mind.
***
Our wait outside Anthony Flores’s office this time lasts exactly fourteen seconds. The time it took us to cross the waiting room. When we enter, he’s alone, no lackeys with him. Apparently, he doesn’t want to have witnesses to his humiliation.
The smile on my lips when he looks furiously at us is enough to calm my nerves. Emily, next to me, has the same victorious expression.
“You really enjoy coming here to collect my leftovers? You don’t know how to do your job, so you come and steal our artists, is that the plan? And you think we won’t drag you into court?” The angry smile is very different from the smug one he had last time.
I slowly unbutton my jacket, fix the cuffs of my shirt, grab the back of the chair, and sit down. I won. This morning’s phone call urging me to come here immediately was confirmation that my plan worked. I didn’t even have to pick up the phone. They called me. It only took a week to contact their old musicians, and the doors of this place opened.
“Really? I didn’t do anything illegal. But your lawyers already told you that, I guess.” I pretend innocence while I taste his fury.
Before coming here to threaten to drag me before a judge, he contacted the powers that be and found out he didn’t like the answer. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be wearing that disgusted expression on his face.
“You stole twelve of my clients, and you think I won’t do anything? You really are out of your mind. The arrogant kid who thinks he can play with the grown-ups. You’re about to discover I eat people like you for breakfast,” he snaps.
“There are actually sixteen now. I got four more contracts signed this morning.” I enjoy his jaw tightening in a vise. “And technically, they’re your former clients. I offered to re-record the old hits and distribute them. The contract you have with them is for the masters, not the intellectual property. So basically, it’s not my fault if the current value of those masters is…” I turn to Emily, who has an innocent smile on her face. “Sorry, I don’t remember how much they’re worth.”
“Zero. At the moment, their value is zero.”
Anthony casts a furious look at her, then lays it on me again. I want to smash his face in just for laying his lousy eyes on the woman by my side, but I refrain from making a scene.
“What the hell do you want?” he hisses between his teeth.
It’s time to see if this plan will go all the way. Nervousness grips my stomach. While I’m sure it will work because Anthony Flores is a shrewd businessman, his pride and arrogance are his Achilles heel. He could sacrifice millions just to spite me if he wants to.
I grab the contract I’ve prepared with our lawyers and give it to him. “The intellectual property of all the Jailbirds’ music, every breath they’ve ever breathed, whether it’s published or not,” I announce with satisfaction.
He looks at me, stunned for a few seconds, and then bursts out laughing. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to do that. Take all the old artists you want. It’ll never happen,” he spits out.
The smile forming on my lips makes him waver. I predicted this reaction. Technically, we’ve just picked up the crumbs this record company has left behind. We’d have to put hundreds of musicians in contract to do real economic damage to their gigantic organization. That’s why I’ve already anticipated this.
“The thing is, Anthony, I kept this little detail of your contracts hidden. I personally contacted your old artists, and I made sure nothing was made public, but the truth is that a couple of phone calls could blow up this bomb in your face. Every band on your roster will double-check their contracts, and not just from your record company but all of them, causing a revolt in the entire music industry. I’ll put the spotlight on you and our failed agreement. You’ll no longer have a job in this industry, even if you cry blood. You’ll be the pariah everyone wants to avoid, including the other bigwigs in town. Right now, every head of every record company in the country is reading an email from me describing the situation. Each of them knows that if you don’t sign this contract, I won’t be so insistent that the next artist I contact keeps this a secret.”
