We touched on this topic while reading 5 Grams, but I pursued it a little further with Bogazianos. The book references Jimmy Iovine, a founder and producer of Interscope Records. He is associated, obviously, with the art of music. But if you know anything about Interscope or Iovine, you know that it isn’t that easy. By involving yourself in Interscope, you’re, for lack of a better term, telling your soul. You are restricted in what music you can release, the scope of the music you can write, and the length between records or EPs released to the public. He’s been investigated and questioned for his motives for a long time, as mentioned in the book, but besides that he generally carries a pretty negative connotation among artists (if you’re interested, check the news about his issues with people like Nicki Minaj). All of this being said, I found it extremely interesting to read about him in Bogazianos’ book, especially after the Heist was released and there was a song titled “Jimmy Iovine”. I’ve been a huge Macklemore fan for a long time, and this song is easily one of my favorites. I’ve attached the lyrics – after reading them, what do you think? Is Iovine committing a crime? Or is he capitalizing on art? Pay special attention to the last verse (it is Iovine speaking to Macklemore). “Jimmy Iovine” (feat. Ab-Soul) I put my life on the line I roll them dice and I’m fine Cause all I ever dreamt about was makin’ it They ain’t giving it, I’m taking it I’m taking it, taking it, They ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, They ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, They ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, I need all that shit (Steal myself a record deal. Steal myself a record deal. Steal myself a record deal.) If I just went in and stole it the police would’ve noticed Gotta be strategic, creeping, go in, leave with that motive Hold up, my plan is forming, alright, case in this building Watch these rappers that rappin’ walk in and leave out with millions (millions) Headed in and sway there, open that front door Interscope printed out right by the entrance door closes Not a metaphor, then I start towards That front, that’s right, where you check in Dressed in an uniform, acting like a janitor All blue, jumpsuit, why shoot? Bloodthirsty for the money like a bull Looking in the eyes of the matador (fuck you!) Carrying 2 cans of paint, Security looks at me awkward I say third floor I’m late, Paintin’ Jimmy Iovine’s office Holding my breath ‘bout to faint I’m scared to death that he stops me Heart beating so loud that you can hear the echo in that lobby And see I’m breaking down if I don’t make it out Then I’m leaving town with that contract And I’m spazzing out, cover the in or out His chair and I’m taking him hostage I don’t give a fuck, step into the elevator press three Now I’m headed up (Heist!) What they don’t know is a gun in the paint can And I’m ready and willing to bust ‘em, I’m fucking desperate Stuck in this recession now what you think But if I could get signed my luck is destined My future depends on ink And secretary at the front of the entrance staring right at me I walk up she whispers go ahead and then gives me a wink I put my life on the line I roll them dice and I’m fine Cause all I ever dreamt about was makin’ it They ain’t giving it, I’m taking it I’m taking it, taking it, They ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, They ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, They ain’t giving it I’m taking it, taking it, I need all that shit I made past security, the secretary, the cubicles But it’s weird, it’s like this room I’ve walked into is unusual Thought it would be shiny and beautiful Thought it would be alive and like musical But it feels like someone died, it’s got the vibe of a funeral There’s numbers on a chalkboard CDs boxed in cardboard Artists that flopped, that got dropped and never got to be sophomores Graphic designers are sitting around Waiting for albums that never come out Complainin’ that they have nobody in house Wonderin’ what they make art for I start thinking, am I in the right place? Just walk forward, see plaques on the wall Oh yea, in a second those will be all yours Finally see an office with a mounted sign, heaven sent Big block silver letters, read it out loud: President (nice!) This was my chance to grab that contract and turn and jet Right then felt a cold hand grab on the back of my neck He said: we’ve been watching you, so glad you could make it Your music, it’s so impressive in this whole brand you created You’re one hell of a band, we here think you’re destined for greatness And with that right song we all know that you’re next to be famous Now I’m sorry. I’ve had a long day remind me now what your name is? That’s right, Macklemore, of course, today has been crazy Anyway, you ready? We’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars. After your album comes out we’ll need back that money that you borrowed (mm-hm) – So it’s really like a loan. – A loan? Come on, no! We’re a team, 360 degrees, we will reach your goals! You’ll get a third of the merch that you sell out on the road Along with a third of the money you make when you’re out doing your shows Manager gets 20, booking agent gets 10 So shit, after taxes you and Ryan have 7% to split That’s not bad, I’ve seen a lot worse, No one will give you a better offer than us (mm-hm) I replied I appreciate the offer, thought that this is what I wanted Rather be a starving artist than succeed at getting fucked

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