Little Pink Starfish

Colors Media acquired the distribution rights for STAGE more easily than expected.

That was because the discussion had already been circulating inside HR Corporation.

Since they were fully focused on The First Day, they hadn’t been paying much attention to STAGE, and people were beginning to question whether it made sense to keep holding onto it.

Of course, HR Corporation wasn’t some sentimental company that handed over STAGE for the sake of Sedalbaekil.

Naturally, they asked for a fair price and laid out appropriate conditions.

“You can’t attach the third album to the deal with Colors Media.”

In other words, the distribution rights to the third album would not be given to Colors Media.

Instead, they agreed to bundle the unit albums—Side A, B, and C—along with STAGE for a discounted price.

Technically speaking, HR Corporation didn’t own the distribution rights to the unit albums, but Han Sion already knew.

If HR wanted to, they could make a legal claim over the rights to the unit albums.

Since the unit albums collectively form STAGE, they could argue that those rights are included with STAGE.

This is America, the land of lawsuits, after all.

If such a case were filed, distribution would be halted until the legal issue was resolved.

HR probably wouldn’t go that far since they wanted to maintain a good relationship with Sedalbaekil, but it could still be used as leverage in negotiations.

In the end, Colors Media and HR Corporation accepted each other’s terms and sealed the deal.

Colors Media acquired the distribution rights to STAGE and the three unit albums at a reasonable price.

“Congratulations. That’s a rare win-win deal in this business.”

So said Andrew Bryant, CEO of HR Corporation and the man leading the Diamond Project with Sedalbaekil…

But inwardly, he felt a bit puzzled.

STAGE was definitely a good album.

Depending on one’s taste, it even had parts that were better than The First Day.

Especially when viewed through the lens of current trends, it arguably surpassed TFD in some areas.

Still, HR Corporation’s decision to push TFD over STAGE had a clear reason.

Because it was tied to Billboard giants.

To sell something unfamiliar, you have to approach it through familiarity.

TFD could create buzz through familiar names, and be placed beside those names in the market.

But STAGE? Not so much.

The same goes for the idea of uniting the unit albums into one complete album.

For that to work, the unit albums themselves need to have their own momentum.

People need to hear and get excited about the unit albums first, and then—what’s this?

They combine into another cohesive piece?

Then it becomes a selling point.

This process happened exactly in Korea.

Through the commercial show Self-Made, the unit albums were introduced and born out of Sedalbaekil’s individual member activities.

But would this work in America?

Aside from STAGE SIDE B, which contains DROP, which is still fairly popular—it likely wouldn’t.

And even STAGE SIDE B probably wouldn’t do well as a full album.

DROP is just an exceptional track on its own.

So Andrew Bryant couldn’t wrap his head around how Colors Media planned to promote STAGE and the three unit albums.

HR Corporation still had priority over Sedalbaekil’s U.S. schedule.

Curious, Andrew gently probed Colors Media—and heard something interesting.

“A work made by geniuses, right? Then the marketing should focus on the geniuses, not the work.”

It made sense.

Artists called geniuses often sell better as personalities than their actual works.

But…

“You’re saying Sedalbaekil is a group of geniuses?”

“Of course. Absolutely.”

He was a bit confused.

Zion—no, Han Sion—was definitely a genius.

It was astonishing how he kept cranking out hit songs nonstop from just one brain.

He’d only debuted a year ago, and yet he had nearly 30 released tracks.

Even more impressive, none of his songs had sparked a “self-copying” controversy.

Han Sion became a new person every time, writing in new genres with flawless quality.

But Sedalbaekil as a group being called geniuses? No.

They were clearly prodigies leaning on Han Sion’s talent.

That’s when Colors Media’s chief manager, Paul, let out a slight laugh.

“Just watch. Those kids are geniuses.”

---

My original schedule in the U.S. was only supposed to last two days.

I’d need to return to the States soon, but I hadn’t planned on staying long this time.

But yesterday, I had an interesting idea.

So when Colors Media secured the distribution rights to STAGE, I requested a meeting with Paul.

“Before I return to Korea, I’d like to appear on a podcast.”

“A podcast? Which one?”

“Called Sound Fact. Do you know it?”

Paul stared at me for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“Of course I know it.”

Well, it’s not surprising—the chief manager of Colors Media would naturally know Sound Fact.

The U.S. podcast scene is far more developed than Korea’s.

That’s because the country is so vast, and local stations operate their own channel content, broadcasting state by state.

Of course, like Korea’s public broadcasters, there are programs that air simultaneously nationwide.

But those are astronomically expensive and not easily accessible.

So most mid-tier celebrities or niche experts host podcasts instead.

Especially after COVID, the podcast market exploded.

It’s not quite there yet, but top podcasts still draw tens of thousands of simultaneous listeners.

Including later listeners, that number jumps to hundreds of thousands.

Globally streamed podcasts like BBC News or TED Talks hit tens of millions.

Sound Fact is one of these—but it’s devoted solely to music (specifically, albums).

“You know about Sound Fact?”

“Yes. Very well. That’s why I’m requesting to appear.”

“Hmm, but the image is a little different when experienced locally.”

I understood why Paul said that.

Sound Fact started about four years ago as a hobby project by two college students, Ronnie and Bonnie (aliases).

They were music fanatics and, like all veterans, full of complaints.

This sucks, that sucks…

They created the podcast to voice their musical frustrations, and originally called it Sound Fuck.

But then, it gained popularity.

Ronnie and Bonnie had an absurdly deep knowledge of music, and their biting critiques offered a strange thrill for listeners.

[This guitar solo is absolute shit. Know why I say that? Listen to this album for a sec.]

Their critiques were always backed by logic—and alternatives.

Sometimes, their comments even bordered on prophetic.

[If they don’t change the guitarist, this band is going to break up.]

[This might be drug abuse.]

At that point, the podcast still wasn’t mainstream.

Some people found their language too crude. Others didn’t trust them since they weren’t music majors.

Then, three years ago, they had a showdown with Iobin.

Today, Iobin is a household name in electronic pop. But three years ago, they were a vague singer-songwriter.

Talented, yes—but directionless.

Their first album was R&B, the second was house, and they’d released singles in party tunes and hip-hop.

Ronnie and Bonnie savagely ripped apart Iobin’s discography one day, and it got under Iobin’s skin.

Iobin then publicly tweeted:

[If you’ve got guts, invite me. I’ll destroy your fake knowledge live.]

Shockingly, Ronnie and Bonnie accepted.

They invited Iobin on for a live podcast.

People tuned in. Iobin’s label even asked them to change the name from Sound Fuck to Sound Fact.

That episode became legendary.

Ronnie and Bonnie tore into Iobin’s flaws, pointed out where their thinking went wrong, and shouted about what musical direction they should take.

At first, Iobin resisted—but eventually raised a white flag.

When thinking rationally, their points were undeniably sound.

By the end, Iobin forgot why they’d come and simply listened.

They then chose electronic pop as their path—and started working on a new album.

They constantly consulted Ronnie and Bonnie during production.

That album was SINCE.

It became one of the top five electronic pop albums of all time.

After that, even skeptics acknowledged Ronnie and Bonnie’s talents despite their lack of formal training.

Sound Fact became credible.

It didn’t stop there.

Unknown artists they praised suddenly charted in Billboard’s Top 10.

Tracks they accused of plagiarism later were proven to be plagiarized.

The most important thing?

Ronnie and Bonnie didn’t change.

After their rise in popularity, countless marketing agencies contacted them.

There were now extreme fans who would buy any album Ronnie and Bonnie praised.

But they stayed honest.

They’d accept album review requests—but never skew the review.

[We got $10,000 to review this album.]

[But I think we’re gonna need more money.]

[If I have to sit through this garbage for an hour, I deserve at least $100,000.]

They even said that in front of the artist.

So Sound Fact was a double-edged sword.

If you requested a review because you believed in your album, and then got slammed, it could kill your sales.

But if they praised it?

You were guaranteed a minimum level of sales—rookie or not.

Just hearing this, it might sound like appearing on Sound Fact is always a win if your album is good.

But it’s not so simple.

Ronnie and Bonnie are hugely popular—but they also have tons of antis.

Diehard fans of famous pop stars often hate them.

So do the big business types in mainstream music.

Their vibe is too “B-grade,” and they don’t acknowledge artists’ personas.

They don’t care what life the singer lived or what message they intended to convey.

They only care about sound.

So rookies who rise through Sound Fact often face weird stigmas.

“If an Asian artist appears on their show and just nods awkwardly, it won’t create a very positive image.”

Paul hinted cautiously, but I shook my head.

“I want to appear. And I’m confident it’ll turn out well.”

Ronnie and Bonnie might not know me—but I know them well.

It’ll be fun, no doubt about it.

Paul stared at me for a long moment, then finally nodded.

“I’ll get in touch.”

Fortunately, luck was on my side.

That night, I flew to Seattle.

And the very next day—I appeared on Ronnie and Bonnie’s podcast.