Devil's Music

Gun has brought the carrier to Compton, California. While looking for the map for a moment, his face was covered with hats and masks, as always.

After Compton High, you said West Cocoa Street. ’

Dr. Dre calls in his office on West Cocoa Street. Contrary to visiting Professor John Korilliano and Hans Zimmer's home, visiting alone was more convenient than staying in his home, so he enjoyed going to his workshop. After turning left at West Aaron Boulevard, you saw the milestone, and you were right.

The building with the Beats store on the first floor? ’

I walked a little further to see the calmness on Compton Street late in the morning, and I noticed a large headphone store on the first floor. I walked a little faster to enter the store on the first floor. A slightly scary-looking black woman chews gum and looks at the gun. The flicker on her face said for a moment.

“I have an appointment with Mr. Young. ”

The woman glances at the case and goes to the counter to manipulate the PC. Maybe he was messaging with someone. After a moment touching the PC, the woman nodded her head at Gun.

“Go down to the basement over there. ”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you."

As I hurried down to the basement with a slightly frightening look on my face, the woman who was watching him smiled.

‘She's an innocent girl. Cute.’

When I went down to the basement with the heavy carrier, I saw a door that looked incredibly spectacular. At the top of the door, surrounded by gold, there was a colorful inscription 'Beats Studio’ embossed. I took off my mask and hat after touching my clothes that I didn't know I had come to the right place in the faint sound of music.

He clears his throat for a moment and knocks. On the inside, the music kept not stopping, and after knocking a few times, I finally opened the door slightly and looked inside. I saw an empty studio in a large window, and in a colorful room with a bunch of engineering equipment, I saw a black man with a hood on his head and an armband behind his back. The gun carefully opens the door and goes inside.

“Hey · · · hello? ”

The black man wearing the headphones felt a sense of popularity coming up, took off the headphones and looked back at the case. The black man in the black hoodie didn't look tall, but he looked very big and fierce. I recognized him and opened my eyes in shock because I met his beady eyes.

Ice Cube! ’

The ice cube raises one eyebrow and asks.

“What? How did you get in here? ”

The gun shakes its head slightly, waking up and saying,

“Oh, yeah. My name is Kay, and I have an appointment with Mr. Young today. ”

Then the ice cube, which rose from its arms, reached out to the gun.

“Oh, right. My uncle told me you're here to learn Cu Base? ”

When the gun reached out to shake hands, it was an ice cube that slammed into the shoulder with its hand. An unfamiliar greeting and an awkward smile on his evil impression, the Ice Cube said.

“Uncle, I went to call you. Sit next to me for a minute. ”

“Yes, thank you. ”

The ice cube spoke to the gun as if it were going to be disconnected, then waited until it sat down and asked the question right away.

“By the way, you're Julied's student. You're Marilyn Manson, director of music video and scissors hands, right? Then why do you learn this kind of program? Why don't you just play for yourself? Trying to do hip-hop? ”

After the gun sat down, he said in a bad posture.

“No, I haven't thought about it yet, and I asked my professor because I wanted to learn about the program, and he was introduced to me. Haha”

The ice cube said it was nice to say otherwise, but it was a little scary because it had a scary impression. The Ice Cube bombs the question as if it didn't matter.

“Really? Is there hip-hop in the East? Oh, what was that? Rich Chigga. He's good. ‘Dat Stick’? That song was good. Are you from that country, too? ”

The gun slaps and shakes its head.

“Oh, he's Indonesian. I'm Korean.”

The ice cube said with a slightly surprised expression.

“Oh, Korea! I heard last year that when my film was released in Korea, Korean hip-hop musicians came to perform at an event. Korea is a small market, but a big market in the art business. ”

The ice cube suddenly rises up and approaches the gun with its fist outstretched. He looked at his fist and smiled as he raised his fist.

“Good to see you. You're a little scared of my impression, aren't you? I hear that a lot. If you don't hurt me, I'll be a good person for you. Let's get along while we're here. ”

You smile cautiously, feeling favored by the friendly ice cube as opposed to what has happened. The ice cube smiled at the gun and looked at the watch. He had a magnificent metal watch on his wrist.

“Why isn't my uncle here? I have to go out for a while. If you wait here, he'll be back soon. If you ask me where I am, tell me I'm out on an appointment with Kendrick. O, K? ”

“Oh, yes, I understand. Goodbye."

After the ice cube opens the door, you sigh in nervousness.

‘Whoa, that looks really scary. You said you used to live in a real gang. The Force is no joke. What kind of private studio is this, anyway? Oh, my God. Look at all that gear. If I could just sell the machines in this room, it would be millions. ’

I got up from my seat to see the pictures and albums that were full of shelves. I stopped to look around and reached out my hand and picked up a CD that was on the shelf.

Wow, The Chronic. Oh, my God, was that a 1992 album? You were out before I was born. But it's still a great list, considering you're still famous. ’

I couldn't open it because it was an open CD, but suddenly I heard a voice behind the article written on the back of the album.

“Wass Up? Oh, it's Kay. You were on the phone for a minute, right? ”

The gun flinches, barely grabbing the CD that was about to drop, and looks back. A 50-year-old black man with short hair smiled at him, looking colorlessly young.

“Ah, Mr. Young. Nice to meet you. I'm Kay. ”

“Oh, don't call me Mr. Young, it's gross. Just call me Dre. That's what my friends call me. ”

As Dre approaches, Kay tries to shake his hand, remembering how to greet the ice cube, grabs his hand and slams his shoulder. Dre smiled satisfactorily at Kay's greeting.

“Oh? You got some black friends? ”

The gun said with an awkward smile.

“Actually, I was with the Ice Cube a while ago. He said," Haha. "

Dre listens to the gun and looks out the window in the recording room.

“Oh really? But where is she? ”

“C-Kendrick? That was the name · · · · You went out to make an appointment with him. ”

Dre sits on a chair in the workshop spilling his guts.

“I'll make sure he works hard, too. Seeing as someone still doesn't know his name. ”

Dre smiles and says that Dre opened his eyes to see if he made a mistake.

“About Kendrick. Kendrick Lamar, don't you know? ”

“Yes? Rapper Kendrick Lamar? ”

“Yeah, you know what? ”

The gun scratched his back.

“Oh, I didn't think it was the same person who went out and pretended to meet a friend, haha."

“You two are friends, Heck."

Dre said after turning on the large LED monitor on his desk.

“Since you're a student of the undergraduate, you don't have to tell me your songs. Can I focus on how to use the program? Sit next to me. ”

Soon after Gun sat down next to Dre, Dre turned on the monitor in front of him.

“Since there are three PCs, learn by following what I do on your PC. ”

You saw what Dre was doing and clicked on the Cu Base 9 icon on your desktop. Dre turns to the gun and starts explaining.

“Cu Base is not a vague music program. It's an easy program to sort and edit the signals of music. Just think of it as a misnomer and a pen in your PC that's easy for students to understand. You have to decide which notes to draw. ”

The gun nods, listening hard to Dre's explanation and Dre explains.

“This is just a sequencing program. Quality doesn't support playing music as it is written. After composing comfortably, use the same company product, Steinberg Nuendo, or record it directly with an instrument to ensure additional quality. ”

From making a project with about two hours of dressing, I learned how to set up the device and connect the instrument with the input. Dre talks for a long time and says as if he is thirsty.

“Cuckoo, I need a drink. Do you want some juice? ”

Gun said without taking his eyes off the monitor.

“Yes, I'd appreciate it. But what is this folder? ”

Dre gets up from his seat, looks at the screen and smiles.

“Can't you tell by the folder name? It's 'shit'. It's just poop music. It's actually a folder that I made or made with shitty music, Keekil. Oh, I copy that folder, save it, and then play with it. ”

Gun laughs at Dre's words and Dre goes out to get something to drink. When the gun clicked on the folder, over 100 music files were shown. When the headphones were written and the music was played, the wavelengths representing the signals of the music played on the program screen were marked.

Why is this shit? Isn't this enough music for a musician about Dr. Dre? '

When Gun suddenly wrote Dre's words, he started writing notes of beats coming from his headphones. The notes written in the note slowly begin to reach for the light. Taking off my headphones and looking at my notebook, I thought about writing all the notes.

‘Oh, that's why. Haha. Let's make shit out of gold, shall we? ’

< 109: Drop The Beat! (2) > End

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