_
(man breathing heavily)
Check this guy out.
You lost?
Looking for sugar.
One thing about a pig...
Always riding the newest model.
I'm not a narc. I just want an eight ball.
All right.
No, fuck it, make it a quarter.
280.
It's what I'm charging.
You okay with that?
Of course you are.
(knocking)
Keep the 20.
Wall Street man?
I look like a fucking Wall Street man?
Record man.
Record man, ah.
Least till now.
Yeah? What happens now?
What, are you fucking writing a book?
Get the fuck out of here.
Fuck!
What the fuck?
(chuckles)
Oh, yeah.
(exhales)
(snorts)
(gasps)
(dial tone)
(ringing)
Homicide. Detective Voehel.
- Man: Hey, come on, guys! - Detective Voehel.
- (people shouting, laughing) - (gasps)
- Whoo! - Woman: Whoo!
Detective Voehel.
Hello?
(distant music playing)
Hello?
(music playing)
♪ I said he's stranded in the jungle, flat as he can be ♪
♪ So come on, pretty darling, just you and me ♪
♪ Oh, yeah ♪
♪ Bop shoo-bop, bop shoo-bop ♪
♪ Oh, yeah ♪
♪ Meanwhile, back in the jungle... ♪
- sync and corrections by Caio - - www.addic7ed.com -
Anybody got a ticket? Anybody got a ticket?
Hey, man!
- You got a ticket? Come on in. - (chatter)
- Bouncer: Get in, get in, get in. - Woman: Who has my ticket?
Thank you.
Whoa, ticket. Whoa, Mr. Finestra. Clean your nose.
He's good. He's good. Let him in. Go ahead, go.
I need a ticket. Who's got a ticket?
♪ Let me out of here ♪
♪ Bop shoo-bop, bop shoo-bop ♪
♪ Bop shoo-bop ♪
♪ Meanwhile, back in the jungle ♪
♪ Well, I jumped out the pot ♪
♪ I tried to get away ♪
♪ I'm frantic and worried about what my baby might say ♪
♪ So I jump in the ocean, I'm starting to swim ♪
♪ But my chance of survival was getting mighty slim ♪
♪ I thumbed down a whale that was passing my way ♪
♪ I reached the States in about a half a day ♪
♪ I got to Lovers Lane and my soul was dead ♪
♪ My heart was gone and here's what I said ♪
♪ I said ♪
♪ Baby, baby ♪
♪ Your man is no good ♪
♪ Whoa, whoa, baby, baby, yeah ♪
♪ You should've understood ♪
♪ Bop shoo-bop, bop shoo-bop ♪
♪ I says you can trust me for as long as you please ♪
♪ So come on, pretty darling, like it used to be ♪
- ♪ 'Cause I love you ♪ - ♪ Bop shoo-bop, bop shoo-bop ♪
♪ Yeah, I love you ♪
♪ Don't you know I love you, baby? ♪
♪ Baby, I love you ♪
♪ I... ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Yeah, baby, no, no, baby, yeah ♪
♪ Yeah, no, no, yeah ♪
♪ Ow! ♪
♪ Well, we can't take her this week ♪
♪ And her friends don't want another speech ♪
♪ Hoping for a better day to hear what she's got to say ♪
♪ About that personality crisis ♪
♪ You got it while it was hot ♪
♪ It's always hot, you know ♪
♪ But frustration and heartache is what you got ♪
♪ Yeah, I'm talking about your personality ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Personality ♪
♪ Whoo ♪
♪ Now you're trying to do something ♪
♪ Now you want to be something ♪
♪ You want to be someone who cow wow wows ♪
♪ But you're thinking about the times you did ♪
♪ They took every ounce ♪
♪ Well, it sure gonna be a shame ♪
♪ When you start to scream and shout ♪
♪ Wow ♪
♪ Contradict all the time ♪
♪ You butterflyin' about, you was butterflyin' ♪
♪ Got a personality crisis ♪
♪ Got it while it was hot, it's always hot, you know ♪
♪ But frustration and heartache is what you got ♪
♪ Talking about your personality ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Personality ♪
♪ And you're a prima ballerina on a spring afternoon ♪
♪ Change on into the wolfman ♪
♪ You howling at the moon... ♪
(howls)
♪ Personality crisis ♪
♪ You got it while it was hot, it's always hot, you know ♪
♪ But frustration and heartache is what you got ♪
♪ Can't you hear me about the personality? ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, personal... ♪
Richie's voice: When I started in this business,
rock and roll was defined like this...
Two Jews and a guinea recording four schvartzes on a single track.
Now it's changed so much, it's not even recognizable
as the thing people used to be so afraid of.
Now, that's not a judgment.
I mean, I always tried to give the audience what they wanted
and in return they made me ridiculously stinking fucking rich.
Now, you might want to hate me for that, but before you do,
remember this, you jealous prick.
I earned my right to be hated.
_
Richie's voice: I started at the bottom working every club in New York.
I mopped floors, swabbed ashtrays, hauled kegs.
You think you work hard?
Try scraping Chubby Checker's vomit
off the inside of a toilet stall.
By the time it's the early '60s,
I get to start my own record company.
Then I built that company into a record label.
And then that label ate up other people's labels.
Devoured them.
I had a golden ear, a silver tongue,
and a pair of brass balls.
But the problem became my nose
and everything I put up it.
Add to that a couple of disastrous artists' signings
and by 1972 the label was bleeding.
Fucking hemorrhaging money.
But fuck it, that's what partners are for.
Zak Yankovich, my right-hand man
and head of payola.
I mean, promotions.
- Mitch, my man. - Oh!
- Zakovich. - How are you, buddy?
- Hey. - Good to see you.
- You, too. - Got a little something for you here.
Oh, don't you always?
Richie's voice: Hyman Weiss invented
the 100-dollar handshake back in the '50s.
But by 1971...
I don't know why this is in there. Sorry.
...Zak had raised it to 5,000
and a gram of Bolivian dancing dust.
- Hello. Richie says hello. - So thoughtful.
What happened to the girl out front?
- The one with that sexy lip. - Oh!
- All right. You know what? Fuck this. - (music stops)
- Yeah, fuck it. - (music continues)
- Take care of us now. - Always a pleasure.
Richie's voice: What, you thought songs only got played 'cause they're good?
Zak.
You heard of the wolf in sheep's clothing?
Zak goes to the same tailor.
Skip Fontaine, head of sales
with his magic mustache.
I hate that fucking thing.
All those unsold records the stores send back to us
for a full fucking refund, Skip made them disappear.
(grunts)
Something about the 90-day grace period
for receivables, materials lost in transit.
- Some shit like that. - Here you go.
Point is, suddenly a disaster becomes a profit.
(men speaking German)
Richie's voice: But still, it's clear all the book-cooking
in the world ain't gonna save the company.
Time to dump and run.
So this is my story
clouded by lost brain cells,
self-aggrandizement, and maybe a little bullshit,
but how could it not be, this fucking life?
Hey, you know what?
Let me just shut up, put the record on for you,
drop the needle, and crank up the fucking volume.
Man: Mr. Finestra.
All is in order?
Mr. Finestra?
Is there a problem with the document?
American.
I beg your pardon?
My company's name is American Century.
You dropped the American.
PolyGram is an international conglomerate.
For us, dropping the word American makes logical sense.
(speaks German)
The money they're paying, call it Nazi World.
Who gives a fuck?
No, yeah. Hey, you're buying it, right?
Richie's just a little sentimental, that's all.
- Well, it was my father's band. - American Century?
Jazz ensemble. Played horn.
Ah, American big band.
Does he still play, your father?
Perhaps we should sign him to a record deal, ja?
Richie: He died in the war.
Okinawa.
Pearl Harbor...
despicable.
- Yeah. - Yeah. It was awful.
In any event,
looks like you are all soon to be very wealthy men.
And how is the Led Zeppelin deal coming, hmm?
Better than the Hindenburg.
(music playing)
(men laugh)
Our guy in the States, he's closing Zeppelin now.
Right now as we speak. It's a done deal.
Excellent. In the meantime, Mr. Finestra,
we and our Dutch partners hope you are seriously considering
our offer to join our corporate strategy division in New York.
I am definitely mulling it.
Man #2: A final formality, if you please.
Our attorney would like to review the balance sheets one last time.
Perhaps next week in New York is convenient, hmm?
Yeah, sure. We can do that. No problem.
- Absolutely. - Meine Herren.
♪ Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, oh... ♪
(German accent) We have ways of making you sign the papers!
(all laughing)
We are so fucking close, I can smell it, man.
Smell it? It's that German pussy you had last night.
You know I hate that fucking mustache.
Let me shave it into a Hitler mustache.
Come on, just for when the Krauts come.
- Come on. - Get rid of it.
(German accent) Ja, they will elect me the führer, not you.
I will be elected the führer, ja?
I can't wait. I can't wait.
Just to stick it in their Nazi fucking asses, you know?
(normal accent) Yeah, but more lawyers, man.
How many fucking times their lawyer got to look at this?
I don't like that, Rich. I don't like that, Richie.
It's due diligence. That's all.
Diligent Germans. Okay, I'm supposed to sleep better now?
I'm a Jew. You tell me Germans are being diligent,
we go to the attic and start a fucking diary.
- What kind of joke is that? - Skip: What a bummer, man.
Too soon.
Not too soon. What do you mean?
We've been up the air for an hour and a half.
Look, just take it easy, okay? Relax.
- All right? Everything's gonna be fine. - I hope so.
Before we got to cut a check to Zeppelin.
Yeah, not even I could bury a check that big.
These classical music guys,
they don't understand the rock business, okay?
A signed contract with Zeppelin, fucking catnip.
Can't wait. Can't wait.
Oh! I'm gonna miss the fuck out of this plane.
It's one of the reasons we're in this fucking mess.
Okay, let's do some coke.
Yeah, line it up.
- Zak: Let's go. - Boom.
We're gonna join the Mile High Club tonight. Last night on the plane.
I am a card-carrying member. Are you?
I'm not. You are.
Doesn't seem right to me.
Big surprise that, actually, he before you.
No, doesn't seem right to me. I got a blowjob on a bus once.
That's it. I'm in the Four Foot High Club.
- (laughs) - Woman: Anton Chekhov.
"Uncle Vanya."
- I don't know... - "Cherry Orchard."
Okay, what the fuck are they talking about?
- Something about her uncle. - Ladies, ladies, here.
Come, come, come, come, come. Come on, sit down.
- We were talking about Chekhov. - Zak: The what?
Jerk off first, then Chekhov later. Sit down.
No, no, Chekhov. You know, "The Seagull."
You have to know something, guys. I am a seagull.
I have inside of me the spirit of great Alexander,
of Napoleon,
of Caesar,
of all these great people who live inside of me.
I am a universal soul.
- I got a hard-on. - (Skip laughs)
I got a big crooked hard-on right now.
- Hey, listen, can I ask you a question? - Yeah, sure.
- Do you speak English? - (laughs)
- You're German, right? - No, guys, I'm Russian.
Zak: Russian, okay. That's one dictator over.
- I'm good. - Aren't you gonna play with me?
Come on, buddy, take a hit. Come on, take a fucking hit.
- I'm good. - No, no, no, no, no. Richie's okay.
He don't need to do any blow 'cause he already did all of it.
That's right. You know what? I'm gonna get out of here.
I'm gonna go in the front.
When you're done with these clowns,
you come and meet me up there,
we'll do a little "Three Sisters."
(squeals) You see? You see? He's intelligent.
He knows. He knows. You see?
- Zak: He does. He knows a lot, Richie. - You see?
- Yes, I do. - Here, what about you?
- What about me? - Tell it to me.
- Of course I believe. - No, I want to hear.
I want to hear. Say "I believe in Chekhov."
Zak: I'm a jack... I believe in Chekhov.
You're scaring me and I fucking love it.
♪ Because this life I lead ♪
♪ Has got me sick through and through. ♪
Man on P.A.: ...the train to 207th Street.
(train rattling, screeching)
♪ I said, Mama, but we're all crazy now ♪
♪ I said, Mama, but we're all crazy now... ♪
(elevator bell dings)
♪ Whoo... ♪
(elevator bell dings)
♪ And you told me... ♪
American Century. Good afternoon.
♪ Firewater won't hurt me ♪
♪ And you tease me... ♪
Can I help you?
I need to give that to the head of A&R.
Julie only sees people by appointment.
Yeah, well, I saw her the other night at Max's
- and she said I can just... - He.
Julie is short for Julian.
Sideburns, hairy legs.
Pretty sure he has a penis, too.
You know, I thought she looked kind of mannish. You know, had that...
Listen, you want to waste my time...
- Is that a tape? - Yeah, it's my band, Nasty Bits.
I'll take it. I work with Julie.
Jamie Vine, A&R.
Kip Stevens.
Oh, it's a little like Cat Stevens, no?
I've never been accused of that before.
What's with this music?
It's Slade.
(chuckles)
They sold two million albums in the UK last year.
How did, um, the Nasty Bits do?
It's just not my thing is all.
You guys got a manager?
No, but we're playing the Coventry tomorrow night.
Okay. Cool.
I'll give it a listen and get back to you.
Great.
♪ That's right, that's right ♪
♪ I said, Mama, but we're all crazy now... ♪
Who put this music on?
Phoebe.
Whoever's here first picks the music.
Well, set your alarm tomorrow, will you?
♪ Drink my whiskey like you do ♪
♪ I don't need to ♪
♪ Spend my money, but still do ♪
♪ Don't stop now, come on ♪
♪ Another dropout, come on ♪
♪ I want a lot now, so come on ♪
♪ That's right, that's right ♪
♪ I said, Mama, but we're all crazy now ♪
♪ I said, Mama, but we're all crazy now... ♪
♪ Tell me who's good and who's bad ♪
♪ Who's happy and who's sad ♪
♪ Then go line them up and march in the parade ♪
♪ Who needs the truth, freedom lies ♪
♪ They're all hungry for alibis... ♪
- Fuck are you doing, Clark? - I'm sorry.
- I didn't want to scare you. - Get off my...
- get off of me. - Just one second. Who is that?
Is that Suicide? That was not intentional.
Was that Suicide, by the way? 'Cause they're way too niche.
What the fuck do you want, Clark?
Well, a blowjob,
but, you know, I'll settle for an ounce of weed.
Wow.
You can't even be creepy when you try.
I wasn't really trying. I mean, I did a voice which was weird...
A whole ounce, huh? What's the occasion, Clark?
Marathon recording session with England Dan & John Ford Coley.
- I'm so sorry. - Thank you.
Yeah.
Oh, you want some bennies to keep you awake?
- Yes. Yeah, no, throw it in. - Yeah?
Um, hey, so what's the latest
on that thing that we're not supposed to know about?
Really, Clark, you're gonna try and bond with me now?
Come on, please. My job could be on the line.
Jamie.
Please.
Please, Jamie. Please, please, please.
God damn it, you're annoying.
Okay, Cece spoke to Richie before they took off from Hamburg.
Yeah?
She said he sounded pretty stoked.
Oh, my God. Shit. Are you serious?
- Yeah. - Oh, man.
What the fuck are you worried about? Julie loves you.
Yeah, but nobody is safe if we get bought out.
Nobody, okay? Especially me.
I've got zero signings to my name this year.
Every band I approach, they say they don't like my face.
- What? - Is there something wrong with my face?
Just tell me. Just tell me, it's fine.
No, Clark, we just scored the Zeppelin deal.
Richie did. Richie did, okay?
Any of us, right, the little worker bees,
if we can't justify our existence, then we're fucked.
- Goofballs. - Thank you.
Yeah, they calm the nerves.
Would you shut the fuck up?!
I am trying to apologize!
You're screaming at me. I can't get a word in.
Buck, listen to me. Listen.
He probably did you a favor.
Sure, the kid's a square.
Come on, his whole family is Mormons.
What do you want from me? (laughs)
What does me being Jewish have to do with anything?
Always it's the Jews?
Hey, no, Buck, don't say that.
Don't... listen to me. That's not funny.
We've gone back on many, many years.
We've always gotten along together, you know that.
Well, I'm here, I'm begging forgiveness.
I'm on my hands and knees.
Oh, yes, I am. Oh, yes, I am.
Buck. Buck.
Buck. Talk to me, Buck.
Buck! Buck!
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Fuck! Fuck!
Donny fucking Osmond. Can you believe it?
Pray.
♪ Girls rock the boys ♪
♪ We'll get wild, wild, wild ♪
♪ Wild, wild... ♪
I got the kid's recital in the morning,
- so we'll head to Greenwich, okay? - Yes, sir.
But first I'm supposed to tell you
there's an emergency.
So where are we going?
33rd and 7th.
- (crowd cheering) - (lighter clicks)
Crowd: Led Zep! Led Zep!
Led Zep! Led Zep!
Man: Talk to me. I'm the bloody manager.
It's my fucking act you're ripping off.
You've got people in this building selling Led Zeppelin T-shirts.
You're meant to be in fucking charge of this venue.
- Are you in charge? - Yeah, I'm in charge.
Are you in ch... Are you really?
- (continues indistinctly) - Robert!
- Oh, look at you. - Hey-oh, Richie. What a surprise.
- Hey, finally, huh? - What?
- We're in business. - Oh, gee whiz. News to me.
Did you know anything about that?
What the fuck do I know, mate?
I think it's best you go and talk to G about that.
You didn't tell me any... We told you, you fucking cunt.
All right.
Yeah, well, that's fucking against fucking authority.
He looks busy. You and me talk.
I don't think so.
I mean, sorry, I'm just the singer.
How long I know you guys? Come on.
Something's going on. You're not happy.
I heard about it. The royalty rate.
- (whispers) - All right, then, mate.
Yeah, Richie. There's a problem.
- The rate, it was supposed to be 20. - Right.
Right? And then we found out that you and your lawyers
gone and tampered around with the fine print
and gone and cut it.
Hold on, I have nothing to do with this.
Sorry, I find that a little hard to believe
considering it's your company.
- It is my company. - (snaps fingers)
And bloody sod is your fucking partner.
Listen to me, he was, okay? Was.
I find out this is true, he's on his ass.
Yeah, he better be.
Listen to me, nobody fucks with my artists.
I'm not the one that handles it, I'm sorry.
Jethro Tull got 20%. Edgar Winter.
Black Oak fucking Arkansas.
You're Michelangelo, baby,
with God's gift wired into your fucking brain.
This fucking piker, this bean counter...
We have a fucking show to do, people.
He doesn't get it, all right? I'm the fucking label.
All right, cool, man. Sorry, I've got to go, all right, man?
Listen, I'll see you after the show.
Let me put it this way, Richie.
It's not working. All right?
You see those birds over there? Hello.
Well, after the show, I'll be in my room
doing to those birds what your label is doing to me.
- Let's go. - I'm gonna make it right.
- I'm gonna talk to G. - You do that.
Grant: Get out there and do your fucking job...
(girls clamoring)
(crowd cheering)
Robert: New York!
(music playing)
♪ Hey, look-a-here, what's all this? ♪
♪ I never thought I'd see this before ♪
♪ But here she is knocking at my door ♪
♪ My car's out front and it's all mine ♪
♪ Just a '41 Ford, not a '69 ♪
♪ That ain't stopping me from thinking to myself ♪
♪ That car's fine-looking, man, it's something else ♪
♪ Hey, look-a-here, what's all that? ♪
♪ There's a girl, she's all mine ♪
♪ We gonna ball all night long ♪
♪ And fuck you all, all, all... ♪
♪ All night long. ♪
Hello, this is Scott E. Levitt
and you have reached my automated
- telephone answering device. - Scott, it's me.
Please wait for the sound of the beep...
Scott, take the cock out of your mouth and pick up the phone.
Scott: What, Richie?
You're a fucking imbecile, that's what.
Come on, Richie, it's after 1:00 A.M.
Led Zeppelin, Robert Plant, how'd he know?
- Know what? - The rate.
How the fuck did Plant know I tried to cut it?
Oh, shit. The fuck do I know? Must have been their lawyer.
You said you had pull with the guy.
'Cause the fucker told me he was good with the final round of changes.
He told you?
You're a fucking lawyer, Scott.
You ever think about getting something in writing?
The Krauts, they think the deal is done.
Oh, fuck. All right, Richie, I'll call the lawyer.
Call Grant first thing.
You apologize your ass off for trying to fuck them over.
- Wait, me? - Yeah, you.
Then give them the 20% and close the fucking deal.
Hi, Bill Minkin for "The King Biscuit Flower Hour."
Tonight starring Humble Pie
and featuring "Frampton's Camel."
(music playing)
♪ Black coffee ♪
♪ Is my name... ♪
Greenwich?
Yeah.
♪ Black coffee ♪
♪ Freshly ground and fully packed ♪
- ♪ Hot black coffee, boys ♪ - ♪ Black coffee ♪
♪ That's where it's at ♪
♪ Mean it ♪
♪ Way back you all know, well, I don't know when... ♪
(siren wailing)
♪ See, I got hungover ♪
♪ Before I was 10... ♪
Abe Beame: I don't owe anything to anybody.
When I take office, I'll start the greatest talent search
this city has ever seen.
Announcer: On election day, vote column B.
Elect the new democratic team, the Beame Team.
(police radio chatter)
Jeez, it's a fucking parking lot.
What are you doing?
- Driver: Water main break. - Cop: I'm trying to get you out of here.
(music playing on radio)
Man: You say you're a citizen and pay your taxes,
but I condone that you pray for a man of God...
(car horn honks)
Hey, something's wrong with you.
We thank God for this free country.
We have liberty, but they abuse it.
Can't believe this traffic. Jesus.
Fuck it, take me to the apartment.
(music playing)
♪ I don't want you... ♪
♪ Clap your hands now, people, clap now ♪
♪ Clap your hands now, people, clap your hands ♪
♪ Clap your hands now, people, clap now ♪
♪ Clap your hands now, people, clap your hands... ♪
What was that? Do you hear that?
(music playing faintly)
- (music continues) - (overlapping chatter)
♪ I... ♪
Pull over.
The expressway is right here.
Just do it.
♪ I... ♪
(overlapping chatter)
♪ I just want to celebrate ♪
♪ I just want to celebrate... ♪
Hey, baby.
Hey, listen. Who's in charge here?
Blow. Reefer. Ludes.
Hey, man, what is this place?
This music?
- Hey. - What's it to you, motherfucker?
I'm just trying to get home.
- Just take it easy. - Take it easy?
♪ Clap your hand, stomp your feet... ♪
What's going on, man?
Two ofays sticking their noses where it don't belong.
♪ Clap your hand ♪
♪ Stomp your feet ♪
♪ Clap your hand ♪
♪ Stomp your feet ♪
♪ Clap your hand... ♪
You're right. They ain't got no business here.
Y'all best be getting along now.
Go.
♪ Clap your hand ♪
♪ Stomp your feet... ♪
Man: Lester Grimes, "The World is Yours,"
November 11, 1963.
Nola penthouse, studio three, take one.
We're rolling.
(music playing)
♪ The world is yours, baby ♪
♪ I'm just here on borrowed time... ♪
Man: Give a warm welcome to a young man
who hails from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Mr. Lester Grimes.
(applause)
♪ You know I don't find my pretty baby ♪
♪ You know I almost lose my mind ♪
♪ You have world all in your bed ♪
♪ Yes, and they topple right in your hands ♪
♪ You have world all in your bed ♪
♪ Yes, and they topple right in your hands ♪
♪ If you loved me, pretty baby ♪
♪ You wouldn't run away with your other man ♪
♪ Well... ♪
Lester: Skip James.
Richie: Peetie Wheatstraw.
- Big Boy Crudup. - Pinetop Perkins.
- Kokomo Arnold. - (laughs)
♪ When you playing policy, buddy ♪
♪ Play four, 11 and 44 ♪
♪ And when you get your money, pack your bags and go ♪
♪ Crying, oh. ♪ (laughs)
That's it.
Man, you sure you're a white man?
- I'm Italian. - Huh.
Mm, them blues, man.
I breathed that shit as a kid.
Gospel, too.
Thomas A. Dorsey, William Brewster, Reverend Gary Davis.
Wow. For me it was jump blues.
You know, Big Joe Turner, Louis Jordan.
Man, I heard "Caldonia" when I was 12.
Ain't been the same since.
So, what, you sing? You play an instrument?
No.
I used to try to write songs, but...
Well, keep at it, man.
Nah.
Don't have what it takes.
Well, obviously you're more than just a fan.
You've got a good ear, brother.
You think so?
Hell, yes.
You got a manager?
(music playing)
♪ My life without you, baby ♪
♪ Just ain't no good if you ain't around... ♪
(phone ringing)
♪ Yeah, yeah... ♪
Hello.
Woman: Hey, what happened?
Traffic.
Traffic on the Cross-Bronx. I didn't want to wake you.
She has her thing this morning at camp, the recital.
Right, the recital. You know, Zeppelin didn't close.
It could blow the whole PolyGram deal.
I thought you said it went well over there.
It did. Now I got to go fix it.
Okay. What time will you be home?
Babe, I don't know. Later tonight.
Look, Dev, if this deal goes through...
I just want things to go back to normal.
Do what you have to do.
Listen, I've got to get them to camp and then I have a ton of errands.
Baby, but not for a party, right?
- None of your business. - Babe, I don't want a party.
Well, you can't always get what you want.
(elevator bell dings)
- Who and what, Cece? - Lester Bangs returned your call
and David Geffen screamed something about
a publishing check for Jackson Browne, and then hung up on me.
- Give that to Clark. What else? - Zak's in your office.
- Says he needs to see you. - About what?
He's in with Scott and a Mr. Grant.
Peter Grant? Led Zeppelin?
I'm not sure, but he is English.
Grant: You take and you take and you take
and as soon as you bend over, you shove it right up your ass!
- Peter. - Oh, you.
You slippery, two-faced cunt.
You're upset.
How dare you talk business with my client behind my back?
Listen to me, I was trying to get your attention, okay?
Were you even going to tell me?
Tell you what?
Not a shilling of Zeppelin's money
goes to those Nazi bastards.
Look, of course I was gonna tell you, okay?
But you know there's confidentiality agreements.
A deal's a deal, Pete. Okay, let me tell you something.
PolyGram is a big, big company.
Don't you "Pete" me,
you hairy fucking bridge troll.
My father lost a leg to those Nazi bastards.
My gran has got a piece of shrapnel stuck in her ass
from a Nazi fucking buzz bomb.
So there's no scenario on this bloody Earth
where my band, a proud John Bull fucking British band,
is gonna be sold out to a bunch of goose-stepping,
bloodthirsty fucking Huns.
Two of them were Dutch.
Fucking Dutch! (speaks German)
The fucking lowland cunts.
Just bought those bagels. They were fresh.
Not so fresh anymore.
Eight hours ago,
I talked to you on the phone.
I told you to handle the Zeppelin situation.
Now not only do you not handle it,
but you tell their fucking manager
about the deal with the fucking Germans?
It just slipped out. You saw that guy. He's intimidating.
Intimidating? You want intimidating?
I'm gonna fucking hang you out the fucking window.
(all shouting)
- Too late. - Hey, cut it out!
It's too late, Richie. It's too late.
It's too late. They fucked us. We got fucked.
Ahmet offered Zeppelin their own label.
- What? - Yeah.
Yeah, you believe that shit? He had it in the fucking deal.
He screwed us. He used us.
He used us for leverage.
PolyGram is gonna be here on Thursday.
Yeah, we're totally fucking fucked.
Fuck!
I'm not telling him.
There's more.
Uh, Buck Rogers, Ellerbee Broadcasting.
Announcer: For his distinguished service to the radio community.
- The radio guy. - Richie: I know who the fuck he is.
I know you do.
Yeah, well, apparently Donny Osmond
stiffed him on some promotion thing.
He's threatening not to play the new album.
Fine, I guess I'll go talk to him.
He's talking a boycott, label-wide.
Over Donny fucking Osmond?
He's a fucking maniac. You know that guy.
He thinks we favor his competitors now and...
Look, I want to bring in Joe Corso.
Corso's a thug.
You don't know that. You don't know that.
He's good. He's good at what he does.
You shouldn't say things about people that you don't know.
You know, he's... he's the best promotion man in the business.
14 radio stations across every major market
not willing to play any of our albums.
It'll spread like fucking leukemia.
It's no joke, Richie.
We're gonna be bankrupt in a month.
Fine, bring in Corso.
Meantime, PolyGram is watching us,
so buy us some charts.
Paper ads on "Cash Box." A single on Billboard's top 20 if you can.
And you, I don't care if you've got to ship
crates of Captain Beefheart's catalog
to an empty fucking warehouse in Poughkeepsie,
inflate the fuck out of the sales numbers.
Meanwhile, I'll go lean on fucking A&R.
- What about me? - You?
You go to the emergency room.
Oh, my God. For what?
See if they can get your head out of your fucking ass.
No, yeah, that's a good plan.
Some of these are okay still.
Let's pick these up, give them to the assistants.
The sesames landed face up.
- Julie: Who knew Vikings could sing? - (laughter)
These are the original white people, folks.
Hey, is this Swedish?
Look at you, little Miss Woman of the World.
Whoever knew you went north of Queens Boulevard, right?
We can't all be jet-setters. Who had the turkey provolone?
Oh, Clark, how was that trip to the Norwegian sex change clinic you went to?
- Pow! Right in the kisser. - Wow, okay.
The roast beef is mine. Let me get some of the Thai stick you're holding, all right?
Fucking barkeep at Small's shooting me down Wallbangers all fucking night.
Oh, good. Marvin has a hangover.
Least I know one of you has been doing your homework on a school night.
- Julie: Hey, Rich. - I left that Aerosmith bootleg with Cece.
Mm-hmm. What is this?
I think it's a Swedish girl group.
They just charted in Europe.
We passed on 'em months ago.
Atlantic UK just signed them.
ABBA.
Music's garbage, but I'd fuck the blonde.
Would the blonde fuck you?
- That's what we want to know. - Can you beg in Swedish?
Oi! Oi! Is that...
Clark: What was Atlantic thinking? This is crazy.
Jamie: But it's catchy, right? You can dance to it.
Hey, don't you have letters to type? Just saying.
Marvin: This is Alvin and the Chipmunks, baby.
Please make this shit stop, man. I'm throbbing right now.
- You don't like Alvin and the Chipmunks? - (music stops)
You're all hearing this the same way?
Yeah.
No.
Of course.
Three bars.
Three bars, I can tell they'll be filling football stadiums.
Come on, Richie.
Where are we with the Good Rats?
Eventually you're gonna have to swallow.
And when you do, I want to hear some good news.
Oh... okay. They... (coughs)
They went with Warners.
And you're here eating lunch?
He needs sustenance, doesn't he?
What he needs is to sign the next Good Rats like I'm fucking paying him to.
You're completely right. I will go. I will...
Sit down. Eat your fucking liverwurst or whatever it is.
Anybody?
Anything?
Come on, people!
Our goddamn roster is like a Chinese menu.
It's all over the fucking place.
Grand Funk and Donny Osmond,
Savoy Brown, fucking Robert Goulet.
Who's next, huh? Topo Gigio?
Is he in play?
The guy who does the voice, I mean.
Look, Richie, I've been going all around the city.
- There's nothing good out there. - Then get out of the city.
Ahmet Ertegun walked through a fucking swamp to sign...
Professor Longhair, yeah, we all know that story.
You're a wiseass now?
No, no, no. Just, I hear you, man.
- Oh, you hear me? - Yeah.
You hear me? Because I hear nothing.
You know what they call this label
out there in the world?
American Cemetery.
Where artists go to die.
Maybe we could get hipper offices.
Move out of the Brill Building.
I like it here, asshole.
Bars,
dance clubs,
fucking high school talent shows.
Wherever people sing.
Public restrooms, boss.
That's honestly the place I've been lately.
Groups go in there to rehearse for the harmonies.
There you go.
They go in there and they're singing all the time.
Nine months.
Nine months
I sat in the dark to sign Jose Feliciano.
Okay? He's blind. He doesn't need lamps.
I want what's next!
Richie, I have something. The Nasty Bits.
I mean, they're raw, but I think they're pretty good.
Nasty Bits. Richie, it's four chimps with Telecasters.
You lost speaking privileges.
They're playing the Coventry tonight.
I'm gonna go check them out.
Where'd you find them?
I saw the singer on the subway and I liked his look.
That's what I'm talking about.
From the fucking sandwich girl.
- Gold star for Jamie. - That's right.
That's right, skinny. You know what?
Since you're such a fucking stud,
you can get on a plane right now, go to LA...
Coach... and deliver a check to David Geffen.
I was supposed to cover the session with England Dan & John Ford Coley.
No, no, no. You were supposed to sign the Good Rats.
I don't have a fucking thing to add to that.
Hey, thanks for the sandwich.
Of course.
(music playing)
♪ Mama ♪
♪ He treats your daughter mean ♪
♪ Mama ♪
♪ He treats your daughter mean ♪
♪ Mama ♪
♪ He treats your daughter mean ♪
♪ He's the meanest man ♪
♪ I've ever seen ♪
♪ Mama, he treats me badly ♪
♪ Makes me love him madly ♪
♪ Mama, he takes my money ♪
♪ Makes me call him honey... ♪
I love the blues. I love it.
Don't get me wrong.
I love it.
But does it sell? You understand?
Frankie Lymon, Hank Ballard,
Chubby Checker, Jackie Wilson.
That's what I'm talking about.
It's kiddie music.
Who do you think buys the records, huh?
- Stravinsky fans? - Hey, listen to me.
You would sing the hell out of that stuff.
But that ain't who I am, man.
That's right. You're Little Jimmy Little, baby.
- Who? - Little...
You didn't tell him?
I told you. It was your idea. Tell him.
You cut a few records under a different name.
You chart a few hits, right?
Then you start recording the real stuff.
What, you'd let me sing the blues?
You give me hits, you can sing fucking "Mary Had a Little Lamb."
You can sing fucking opera.
I don't give a fuck what you sing. I want hits.
(chuckles)
This is great and everything, but I don't know what to say.
You like playing dives?
Do you? Hmm?
You like having a little shitty pisshole toilet for a dressing room
for the rest of your life?
I'm offering you a record contract.
You're offering Jimmy Little a record contract.
Uh, uh, uh.
Little Jimmy Little.
You know, 'cause you're tall. You're big.
You see? It's terrific.
500 cash, three points I'm offer...
You know, let me talk to your manager for a second, please.
- Two seconds. - Thank you.
Huh?
How you doing?
Yeah, I'm good.
Are you retarded?
What?
Are you? Are you mentally fucking retarded?
- Are you? - No.
Get this guy in line.
He wants to sing blues.
You're his manager. You manage him.
Musicians ain't your friends, kid.
They're products. They're products.
You catch a hot model, you push it as hard as you can
before the buyers move on to the next, that's it.
- That's it. - Understood.
You got a good ear.
I like that.
And I like you. You're sharp.
Play your cards right, don't be a schmuck,
okay, and I'm gonna find a place for you here.
All right? All right.
That's it. Not your friends.
♪ He's the meanest ♪
♪ Meanest man I've ever seen. ♪
♪ Heard New York was paved with gold ♪
- ♪ It's worse than tooting...♪ - (crowd jeering)
♪ Is there something wrong with your ♪
♪ Constitution? ♪
♪ The Bits come to add to the ♪
♪ Noise pollution, if you try to silence us... ♪
- You fucking suck! - ♪ You'll get a booting ♪
♪ New York is rotten now ♪
♪ We'll light a match and we'll burn it down ♪
♪ The devil smiles as he takes a bow ♪
♪ He takes your souls... ♪
(feedback whining)
Woman: You're fucking trash!
Man: You got nothing!
No, get off the stage! Get off!
♪ Went to fight the Vietcong ♪
♪ We all got shafted... ♪
You fucking suck.
♪ Village fried, the devil's laughing ♪
♪ New York is rotten now ♪
(bottles shattering)
♪ Light the match and we'll burn it down ♪
♪ The devil smiles as he ♪
♪ Oh, the devil smiles and takes a bow ♪
♪ He takes a... ♪
Fucking cunts. Come on, you motherfuckers.
(indistinct shouting)
(shouts)
(indistinct shouting)
(feedback whines)
Hey, fuck you, man.
Fucking jerk. Fuck you.
You fucking cunts.
Come on, you motherfuckers!
You want a piece? I'll break your fucking skulls!
♪ Ooh, you can't find love on a one-way street... ♪
Man: Calm down. Buck, Buck, Buck, relax.
Buck: Listen to me, Richie, for months
I got my whole sales department working on this thing, right?
Private dinner for three dozen of my top Midwest advertisers
to meet this Donny Osmond asshole, right?
- The singer? - He's cute.
Cute? He's a sack of shit is what he is.
Now shut your mouth before I break my dick off in your ass.
Give me a light.
Anyway, the big night comes,
me, I do things the right way.
I close down Bistro Romano,
Philly's best restaurant.
All the advertisers are there, they're excited.
Some of them brought their wives, girlfriends, kids and such.
You know, I'm very pro family like that.
Even flew in my own daughter from Boca.
My ex-wife, the whore, that... that...
Richie, she fucked my brother
on my birthday on my fucking bed.
You understand what I'm saying? Do you understand that?
- A motherfucker, what she is. - (laughing)
- This mother... - Calm down, Buck.
Calm down? It didn't happen to you.
He didn't fucking do it to you.
All right, all right. So an hour goes by.
Then two. Then I get word
this little asshole's in the hospital.
In the fucking hospital.
Not for nothing, but he does have pretty bad asthma.
What's that?
Asthma. They all do. All the Osmonds.
I look like an asshole to you?
No, seriously.
I mean, I've been called an asshole a thousand times in my life.
You've probably called it to me behind my back.
As a matter of fact, Richie,
I know I'm a asshole.
That's not my question.
I want to know
when you look at me,
when you're looking right at me,
in any, like, way, shape or form,
on some level, does my face
resemble an asshole?
I'm thinking.
(laughs)
What a fucking ridiculous question. Of course not.
No.
So why the fuck would you tell me asthma, okay,
when the next day in the papers,
on television,
this scumbag, this cocksucker in his heart,
is at some county fucking fair
with a big smile with fucking cows in the background
and a fucking Ferris wheel
and the big tall jerkoff guy?
And he's all happy, right?
And I'm left looking like a jerkoff.
Hey, listen to me, Buck. You of all fucking people,
you know how unreliable these musicians are.
They're cockheads. But I tell you what, Richie, he's right.
That prick should have came up here,
signed an autograph for his daughter,
these other little kids there. This is bullshit.
- You're right, Buck. - The bigger they are, the worse it gets.
Bigger they are?
Let me explain something, my friend.
There's always somebody bigger,
and that's the moneyman.
That's you, right, Daddy?
You better fucking believe that.
Let me tell you something, Richie.
You want your records played on my radio stations,
you don't leave Buck Rogers with his dick hanging out of his pants.
Hey, hey, Buck, how can we put this fucking thing behind us?
I want to move forward with you, Buck.
Buck, how do we move forward?
Well, how do you suggest?
Well, you know what the fuck I do.
You've known me for years. Richie brought me in here.
You know I'm a promoter. I'm a facilitator.
That's what I do fucking best, you know that.
Hey, I brought you a little present tonight.
You're fucking snorting this garbage.
I got the real McCoy here. The Rock of Gibraltar.
That Bogatari shit.
This is why I'm friends with this motherfucker.
- Put it on the table. - Rich, you want a hit?
Oh, I forgot, Rich.
(laughs)
- (snorts) - Joe: Are we gonna party?
This is over, right, Rich? We're moving on?
- Let's move on. Richie? - Let's move on.
- Salud, huh? To the future. - Salud.
Joe: Hey, are we all in the same line here?
Party time, motherfucker. All fucking good.
We're good, Rich.
♪ Just put that stop sign down ♪
♪ And let's get together... ♪
(moaning)
I want you to know I've never done this before.
(chuckles) You was a virgin?
No.
I meant mix business with personal.
Oh, so you're interested, then?
In the band, yeah.
- Ouch. - I didn't mean it like that.
No, actually, I did.
I think we need to keep this professional.
Try and remember that next time you stick your finger in my ass.
Who said there's gonna be a next time?
Oh, you're a little bit of a bitch, ain't you?
(laughs)
You need to be a lot better if you want to get signed.
I've seen high school bands play better than you do.
Your one saving grace... People hate you.
How is that a saving grace?
Because what happened tonight,
I haven't seen a band get that sort of a reaction ever.
They was trying to kill us.
Yes, exactly.
Yes, because you made them feel something.
You know what you need?
You need to work on a persona.
- A persona? - Mm-hmm.
You need some more gimmicks, do you?
You want me to get a python, swing it around my neck?
Shoot laser beams out of my ass? (scoffs)
- You like Iggy, right? - Yeah.
Yeah, he's doing that shit.
He's wearing glitter and he's making fucking great music.
All right, I like the Stooges.
It's the Asheton brothers making the great music.
Iggy just prances around like a fucking jessie.
It makes me feel sick. Whole fucking thing's gotten so phony.
I don't give a shit about it anymore.
Okay, so what do you give a fuck about?
Tell me.
Fucking.
Fighting.
Nothing.
That's it.
That's your persona.
- Not giving a fuck? - Yeah.
Not giving a fuck.
(laughs)
Not giving a fuck about anything.
Sure you don't want to stay?
Yeah, I've got to go.
Careful with that stuff.
What you know about it?
(door closes)
Hi.
Why isn't she in bed?
Stomach thing.
How was the Oasis?
- Still serving sex? - Yeah.
Oh, these guys. (sighs)
They're animals.
Joe Corso's promotion guy.
Buck Rogers.
Flash Gordon not available?
He owns radio stations.
Careful. Don't wake her.
Your eyes are bloodshot.
Smoke.
I'm not high, Dev.
What, are you kidding me?
It was an observation. You can relax.
Sorry.
Dev,
our future, everything, it's all riding on this sale.
But the company, it's dead.
I mean, there is nothing there.
And even if I can pull this thing off,
the Germans are just gonna scrap it
when they find out it's just an empty shell.
It'll all be gone.
You know, like it never existed.
20 years just gone.
For nothing.
This is nothing?
Who's saying you have to retire and build model trains?
Take the PolyGram job.
You really think that's me?
I don't know.
I'm trying to help you, babe. I just don't know what you want.
I need a change.
I need a change, too.
I know.
Hey, I know that.
Okay, shh, shh, shh.
Okay, you go to bed. I'll put her down.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Come here, little chicken. Here you go.
I'm here. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I'll see you upstairs.
♪ Come on ♪
♪ Come on, let me show you where it's at ♪
♪ Come on ♪
♪ Come on, let me show you where it's at ♪
♪ Come on ♪
♪ Come on, let me show you where it's at ♪
♪ The name of the place is I like it like that ♪
♪ Come on ♪
♪ Come on, let me show you where it's at ♪
♪ Come on ♪
♪ Come on, let me show you where it's at ♪
♪ I want to show you ♪
♪ Come on, let me show you where it's at ♪
♪ The name of the place, I like it like that. ♪
Hey, Nefertiti, want to lose the jewels?
Thank you.
What does she think this is?
Exactly, I bet the entire 20 grand.
This nag does it, that's it, I'm up a half a million bucks.
Cocksucker's still running.
(laughs) It's still running.
Still waiting to hear how this is my problem.
No, no, it's not your problem. It's my problem.
It's nobody's problem. I'm just saying, you know?
- Richie: All right, here we go. - (bills rustle)
- Set? - Lester, you ready?
- Yeah. - All right.
Little Jimmy Little, "The Cha Cha Twist," take one.
(music playing)
♪ Well, cha cha cha ♪
♪ Ooh, ooh ♪
♪ Well, cha cha cha ♪
♪ Ooh, ooh... ♪
More, more, more. Give me more.
♪ Ooh, ooh ♪
♪ Come on, baby ♪
♪ Let's do the Twist ♪
♪ Cha cha cha, ooh, ooh ♪
♪ Come on, baby ♪
♪ Let's do the Twist ♪
♪ Ooh, ooh ♪
♪ You look fine ♪
♪ When you go like this ♪
♪ Cha cha cha, ooh ♪
♪ Tell me, baby ♪
♪ Have you seen my sis? ♪
♪ Cha cha cha, ooh, ooh ♪
♪ Tell me, baby... ♪
You want to get up here, honey?
Come on, get up there. It'll help him.
♪ She knows how to rock ♪
♪ And do the Cha Cha Twist... ♪
That Richie's a good kid.
♪ Oh, hully ♪
- ♪ Hully gully... ♪ - Bring them up a little bit.
♪ Slop and the Madison, too, yeah ♪
♪ When you do the Twist to a beat like this ♪
♪ You can Cha Cha with your baby, too ♪
♪ Papa's sleeping... ♪
- You like it? - Mm-hmm.
She loves it.
Her mom looked like that when I first met her.
♪ Ooh... ♪
♪ They had some cat shouting the blues ♪
♪ The people was yelling out for more ♪
♪ And all they was saying was go, man, go ♪
♪ Come on ♪
♪ Come on, let me show you where it's at ♪
♪ Come on ♪
♪ Come on, let me show you where it's at ♪
♪ Come on ♪
♪ Come on, let me show you where it's at ♪
♪ The name of the place, I like it like that. ♪
Fiscally speaking, 1972.
American Century claimed $6 million in profits,
yet 92% of the records you released
were, speaking frankly, flops.
Technically, yes.
But in reality, they only look like flops.
Please, explain.
Our artists aren't tuxedo-clad maestros
with degrees in music theory.
We got credibility in the business.
No Leonard Bernsteins. No Herbert von Karajans.
We're talking about pop singers here.
You like the tea?
Richie: Generally speaking,
not your most sophisticated individuals.
On one side, you've got us, the record execs.
On the other side are the artists' lawyers
who all want to be record execs,
so they don't want to piss us off too much
by being too good at their job.
No offense.
Next, you have the contract itself.
Now, assume an artist gets paid a dollar
for every record sold, less recoupable expenses.
So, sell a million records, that's a million bucks.
Not bad, right?
But there's that word...
Recoupable.
First gold record. First gold record.
Richie: That means that no matter how many records they sell,
the actual cost of producing that record
always comes out of the artist's end.
Physically manufacturing the record,
touring costs, studio space, marketing, packaging.
If a drummer drinks a Pepsi in the middle of recording that album,
believe me, he's paying for it at a 700% markup.
We really don't have any downside.
No, no, we practically break even on all the flops.
But the hits, that's where we cash in big.
But your biggest hit maker would have been the Led Zeppelins, no?
Richie: Maybe.
Maybe.
But I got to tell you...
(sighs)
I can't do business with them.
Their manager, Peter Grant,
well, I'm sorry to tell you this,
but he hates Germans.
I mean, the man is a serious racist.
It's true. I've never seen anything like it.
I mean...
they almost made my stomach turn.
Horrible. I don't like when we talk about competitors like this
because that's not the way we do business.
But let me just say, you're Germans,
we're Americans, but we're people.
We're people. But this man...
- We're all... -... that man is hate. That's all he is.
Right, and no one knows more about hate than you.
I mean, not you specifically.
You know, just persons like you.
Zak: We've learned. We've learned.
Scott: I mean, not specifically your generation.
Like, 30 years ago. Like your father.
But not him specifically, of course.
You want to go get some more Coke?
I would love to. Richie? Okay. I'll be right back.
♪ Extra, extra, read all about it ♪
♪ Wanted, young man, single and free ♪
♪ Experience in love preferred ♪
♪ But will accept the young trainee ♪
♪ Oh, gonna put it in the want ads... ♪
Hey, smile, birthday boy.
Dom, please.
You look beautiful.
Huh?
I'm archiving a little something for the family
so that your kids' kids and my kids' kids can see this.
You want to say a little something?
Just say one thing, Richie, come on.
- One thing? - Yeah, one thing, come on.
You bought me this camera.
Say a little something on the camera, you know?
Yeah, okay.
Hi, Dom.
If you don't get that camera out of my face,
I'm gonna throw you in the fucking pool.
Okay, Richie. Thank you very much.
And happy birthday to you, Richie.
Devon.
- Ingrid. - Hi.
What are you doing here?
What am I doing here? That breaks my heart.
- No, I... - I'm kidding.
I'm here with a friend. John Addison.
He owns Le Jardin.
A new discotheque in the city.
Speaking of which, Andy was there
and he asked for you just the other night.
- He asked for me? - Mm.
Lou was with us and I told him
he had done his eyeliner in black and blue two-tone like you used to.
Like mine.
And Andy said, "Devilish Devon,
I wonder if she's happy."
Or something more Andyish.
I can't remember exactly. It was so sweet.
So, this place, huh?
Stunning.
Thank you.
So are you.
Well, clean living and self-denial.
Well, you do seem happy.
Well, Richie and the kids...
my heart is full.
Le Jardin next Friday.
You should come.
I should go get things started.
♪ I'm a lover ♪
♪ You ain't nothing but a son of a gun... ♪
(clinking)
(crowd cheering)
(music stops)
Thank you all for being here.
Thank you for coming out to the mean streets of Greenwich.
We are so thrilled to be here tonight celebrating Richie's birthday.
- I don't think he is. - (all laugh)
Many of you have actually known Richie longer than I have,
but I think we all remember what he was like
before he became the reserved,
mild-mannered business executive he is today.
- No, he's always been a dick, actually. - (laughing)
You are what you eat.
There is something you may not know.
And I figured tonight was the perfect venue to come clean.
- Skip: Uh-oh. - (Zak laughs)
So, if I may.
(clears throat)
It was our one-year anniversary
and Richie's mother took Ronnie for the weekend.
It was our first weekend alone in a year.
And we were going to Woodstock.
And we had backstage passes, VIP treatment, the works.
We never actually made it to Woodstock.
And it wasn't because we dropped too much acid.
(all laugh)
It was because we never made it out of bed.
All: Ooh!
- Oh! Oh! - Wait, wait, wait, wait.
What about front row
when Townshend beat Abbie Hoffman off stage with his Gibson, huh?
- Alvin Lee. - We heard this constantly.
Smoking a dube backstage with Alvin Lee after "I'm Going Home."
How many times did he tell us all those stories?
What do you want from me, all right?
How am I gonna admit that I blew off Woodstock?
I'd have lost all credibility, right?
But for the record... For the record,
I will say this
and this is the truth.
I don't regret one second of it.
- Woman: Aww! Sweet. - I love you.
(whistling, cheering)
Happy birthday.
- Hey, big boy. Big boy, right here. - Hey, Casanova.
This is for you, partner.
Open it up. Open it up.
"From the gang. From Zak, Skip, Levitt, and the A&R Department.
Now you have no fucking excuses."
- (all laugh) - Man: Wow.
- Woman: That's a beauty. - Woman #2: Beautiful.
Zak: '59 Gretsch Twang Machine.
Owned by the Originator himself.
My idea, by the way.
You know, 'cause I remembered he was saying he loved Bo Diddley.
- Shut up, Clark. - I was just... okay.
(music playing)
♪ Bo Diddley done had a farm ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ On that farm he had some women ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ Women here, women there ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ Women, women, women everywhere ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ But one little girl lived on the hill ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ She rustle and tussle like Buffalo Bill ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ One day she decides she'd go for a ride ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ With a pistol and a sword by her side ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ She rolled right up to my front door ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ Knocked and knocked till her fist got sore ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ When she turned and walked away ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ All I could hear was my baby say ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley ♪
♪ Hey, Bo Diddley... ♪
Any word from the Rhine monkeys?
Radio silence.
The fuck we gonna do?
- We're gonna wait. - Yeah.
♪ I was slipping into darkness... ♪
You know, if by some miracle
this sale happens,
our artists,
all these A&R kids,
you know what's gonna happen to them, right?
Who gives a fuck?
PolyGram's gonna cut them loose.
Half our support staff, too.
You a Communist now?
It's business, Richie.
Hey, the guitar is really great.
- Thanks. - Bo Diddley.
I used to listen to his records,
stand in front of the mirror
with my mom's broom.
(laughs)
Screamin' Jay Hawkins.
Joe Houston.
All night long.
Fuck, yeah.
Summer of '55,
Kingsway Theatre in Brooklyn,
"Blackboard Jungle" was playing.
So me and my friends, we go down,
sit down, dark.
The MGM logo comes up.
That snare just kicks.
(roars)
- ♪ One, two, three o'clock ♪ - ♪ Four o'clock rock. ♪
Oh, man, me and my friends went fucking crazy.
What is that, huh?
It's rock and roll.
- Mr. Finestra. Telephone. - Thanks.
♪ Pretty soon you're gonna pay. ♪
- It's Corso. - Richie: Joe, hey, what's up?
- What's up? We're up. - Oh, shit.
- Richie: What's that mean? - Joe: We're at his house on Long Island.
- We're still going. - Since two nights ago?
He wants to talk to you.
You've got to get over here now.
- Joey, come on. - Joe, hold on.
I got a house full of people. It's my birthday.
I thought this was important.
Hang out with me. Come on.
♪ Darkness. ♪
Come on, four-part harmony.
What the fuck is that? What, a barbershop quartet?
Look, I know what's hot, but try telling that to Maury.
Send me a tape. Oh, there's my star.
- How's things? - You tell me.
I haven't seen a check since November.
I know. Sales have been slow, kid.
So, let me cut another record.
I got this new Leiber & Stoller.
No, Richie, that's Little Jimmy.
Let me cut a record as Lester Grimes.
Lester, it's not the right time to introduce a new act.
That was our deal, though, Richie, over four goddamn years ago.
Hey, okay. Cool your jets, kid.
Come on, sit down. Sit down.
Listen, it's Maury.
He's got cash flow problems. The fucking gambling.
I got bills myself, Richie.
All right, here.
Richie.
That's not what I meant.
Man, I just want to sing, man.
I... I know you do, kid.
Look, I'm going in.
I'm gonna talk to Maury's creditors.
I'm gonna work something out.
Hey, hey, listen to me.
I'm going out on my own,
starting my own label.
I'm gonna take you with me, okay?
Okay.
- Okay. - No more bullshit dance records.
World is yours.
(music playing)
- ♪ I am iron man... ♪ - Yes!
Oh, hey, Richie!
Fuck took you so long?
What'd you come here by, fucking Schwinn?
No, I live in Connecticut.
Oh, Connecticut. Excuse me.
Excuse me. Connecticut.
You know who lives in Connecticut?
Know who lives in Connecticut?
Bunch of...
Bunch of blue-blooded cocksuckers
living in the middle of the woods
with their dirty little secrets
and their Lyme disease.
That's who lives in Connecticut.
You see this house?
You know what this house cost me?
No.
(scoffs)
Fucking crack me up, you record guys.
With your college educations
and your big words and your fancy clothes.
Truth be told,
you're nothing without me.
You're shit.
Radio invented rock and roll,
not you.
Not Donny fuckhead Osmond.
Me. Me.
Rock and roll, man.
If you like it, you can't help but move to it.
- Put the fucking gun down. - Whoa, whoa, whoa!
- Put it down! - Let 'em alone, Vance.
- Put the fucking gun down! - Let 'em alone!
Put the fucking thing down, you asshole.
Fucking Elvis.
This is what I... "Love Me Tender."
Elvis. Fuck.
This is what I mean with you fucking guys.
Hey, Buck, Joe said you want to talk.
(snorts) What?
Remember?
You told me to call him to come over here.
You wanted to talk to him. You forgot already?
(stammering)
Let's eat. I'm fucking hungry. Come on.
No, you got to fucking stay.
Fucking stay here. I've been here for two fucking days.
You guys hungry?
No.
Richie.
Come on, you really took off on me the other night.
What, I thought we were done.
The night ain't over till the big man says it's over, right?
Well, you know, I had work.
Family commitments.
Yeah. Family.
(music playing)
Richie. Richie, come over here.
You got to see this, please.
- Come on, please. - Okay, I'm coming. I'm coming.
You ever see this movie?
What, "Frankenstein"?
It scared the shit out of me when I was a kid.
But, you know, in life you got to, like...
You got to face your fears.
Face your fears.
You face your fears.
Face your fears. Face your fears.
You got to face your fears.
You face your fears.
You got to face your fears.
Yeah, no, I got it.
Richie, Richie, what he's trying to say
is you've got to face your fears.
- That's what he's saying. - That's it!
That's what I'm talking... That's exactly what I mean.
And you hear this song?
You hear this song? "Frankenstein."
- Right. - That's the name of the song.
It's got the same name as the movie.
You know what they call that?
Synergy.
Oh.
- Synergy. - Right.
Motherfuck!
- (gunshot) - What the fuck?
Put the fucking gun down, asshole!
(laughing)
Fuck. It's fucking hot in here.
Take your shirt off if you're hot.
Buck, what do you want to talk about?
Come on.
Dance with me.
Yeah, I put the jukebox on random
because that's what life is.
- Come on, dance. - I've got to go.
- Where you going? - I've got to go home.
- Five more minutes. - I want to go.
I gotta go home to my family.
To your wife?
You love her, don't you?
That's how it starts. You know how I got engaged?
Marry me. You're my soul mate.
You know who my soul mate is now?
Whoever my dick is in at the time, that's who.
- Okay, I got to go. - Listen to me.
You want my respect? You want my business?
Where's my wife?
Tell me, Richie. I'm begging you.
Where's my wife?
She's fucking your brother.
You know,
your eyes, they're sparkling like the Nile.
Fuck! Motherfucker!
- I'll fucking kill you. - Richie, calm down.
- Calm the fuck down. - He put his fucking hands on me.
Calm down.
♪ So in love... ♪
- What the fuck? - ♪ With you... ♪
- Motherfuck! - (choking)
♪ And I know that I could make you love me, too ♪
♪ And if I could only hear you say ♪
♪ You do, ooh, ooh... ♪
Mother...
- ♪ But anyway... ♪ - (coughing)
♪ What would you say? ♪
(gasping)
What...
What the fuck did you do?
What did I fucking do? You hit him first.
Yeah, but I wasn't trying to kill him.
He's dead.
He's fucking dead.
Fuck.
Oh, no, no, no, no. He's dead.
He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's fucking dead!
He's dead. Come with me.
Wait, wait.
We gotta wrap him. Gotta wrap this fucking guy up.
What do you mean, wrap him up?
We gotta wrap him up. We gotta get rid of him.
He's a fucking manatee, Joe. How the fuck are we supposed to do that?
We have to do it together.
♪ I will be so in love... ♪
- Fucking get him off me! - ♪ With you... ♪
Get the fuck off me! Get him off me!
♪ I could make you love me, too... ♪
Get off! Get off! Get off!
Get off me! Get off me!
Fuck! Get off me!
- Back! - What the fuck? Die, you fucking...
(grunting)
(gasps)
We got to call the cops.
- We got to call the cops. - Shut up.
We got to call them, Joe.
Hey, you fucking idiot. You don't call the cops on something like this.
They're gonna search the house, Joe.
It was self-defense.
Does this look like self-defense?
We smashed his fucking head in.
His brains, it looks like fucking gabazelle.
We?
That's right.
We. Me and you.
(chuckles)
Yeah, right.
You know what we're gonna do now?
We're gonna clean this fucking mess up
and we're gonna take him and get rid of him, okay?
Calm down, okay?
Calm down, son.
(music playing)
♪ Sometimes I wonder what I'm gonna do ♪
♪ Lord, there ain't no cure for the summertime blues ♪
♪ Well, my mama, papa told me ♪
♪ Son, you've got to make some money ♪
♪ Well, if you want to use the car to go riding next Sunday... ♪
(music stops)
(stairs creak)
Weren't you just at a party?
Yeah, my boss's birthday.
This is work, too. It's a loft party downtown.
Your mother has been asking if I've heard from you.
Now, as much as I love having you here...
One more month. Please, Bellamy.
I found a hot band.
What does that mean?
It means that I can convince the company to sign them
and then they'll make me an A&R rep
and then I can get a place of my own.
(sighs)
♪ Give me the people to free my soul ♪
♪ I want to get lost in your rock and roll... ♪
Joe: We'll dump him, they'll find him,
the cops will think it's just another drug deal that went bad.
And then what?
Then what?
Richie, you get on with your fucking life.
Won't the cops come around?
Richie, I told you, you don't know nothing.
Believe me, the last thing these fucking cops want,
investigation on a scumbag like this.
Joe: Here. Here's good. Right over here.
♪ Go away, little girl ♪
♪ It's hurting me more ♪
♪ Each minute that we delay... ♪
Hey, that's Donny Osmond, right?
You hear that, you prick?
♪ You're much too hard to resist ♪
♪ So go away, little girl ♪
♪ Before I beg you to stay... ♪
Jamie: They're raw, like I said,
but they're edgier than Neon Boys
and they're angrier than the Dolls.
I went and saw them and they kill it live.
They just went mad, this nuts, electric energy.
It was amazing.
What?
The band, Nasty Bits.
Yeah, right. Good.
(knocks)
Zak needs to see you right away.
And this gentleman dropped by earlier.
He wants you to call him.
♪ Would I still see suspicion in your eyes? ♪
♪ Here we go again ♪
♪ Asking where I've been ♪
♪ Can't you see the tears... ♪
Richie, we got a phone call.
- You fucking son of a bitch. - Jesus, man.
What?
From the Germans.
The board okayed the buyout. We fucking did it!
- (screaming) - Yes!
- We're gonna be fucking rich. - Congratulations.
- You asshole. - We're gonna be fucking rich.
- Rich, huh? - I don't know what to say.
Hey!
Well?
How's it feel?
I... I don't feel so good.
Hold up, man. You want a bromo? We got some stuff.
I'll call you guys later. Call my car, please.
Richie, we got shit. We got some stuff.
- Hey. - Richie.
(music playing)
♪ They call me Mr. Pitiful ♪
♪ This everybody know now ♪
♪ They call me Mr. Pitiful ♪
♪ Most everyplace I go ♪
♪ But nobody seems to understand now ♪
♪ How can a man sing such a sad song ♪
♪ Ooh, when he lost everything ♪
♪ When he lost everything that he had... ♪
Maury: You know I'm good for it.
You know my money's good as gold.
Oh, come on, Maury.
I don't know what it is with you people.
You got a reputation for knowing what to do with money
except for when you're supposed to have it.
As of last week, your own accountant
valued my company at a million three.
150 grand of which you still owe me.
Okay, listen. We have a top-shelf talent roster.
The Drifters, the Monotones,
half a dozen number one hits.
I'll tell you what. I'm gonna make a deal with you.
I'm gonna offer you a piece of my ownership, okay?
- You'll have a cash cow... - Can I make a suggestion?
(coughs)
Excuse me?
Mr. Galasso,
what if you buy me out instead?
Now, with stock options,
I hold on to a 25% stake in the label.
- Maury: Richie, Richie... - According to your own people,
that's worth upwards of 300 grand.
Listen to me. Richie, I'm not gonna let...
He can divide. Fucking genius, this kid.
I'm prepared to sell you my entire end for 150,000.
- No, no, no. - That's half of what it's worth.
This conversation stops right now.
And you would do that why?
Frankly...
Look, when I started out, I didn't have a pot to piss in.
Pardon my language. But this man...
he gave me an opportunity.
Now, if by selling you my end
I can help him hold on to what he worked his whole life to build, then...
well, I'm happy to help in any way I can.
Ay-yi-yi.
Oh, Richie, Richie, Richie.
I can't let you do this. Come on.
You're killing me here, you know that?
One more thing I might ask.
With all due respect.
Little Jimmie Little.
Release him from his contract, let him come with me.
The fuck is he?
That dance song, the Cha Cha.
"Cha Cha Twist."
Oh, my daughter likes that song.
He's good. He stays.
Well, there you go, paisan.
You okay over there, my friend?
Yeah. Yes.
Fine.
♪ They call me Mr. Pitiful ♪
♪ 'Cause I'm in love with you, yeah ♪
♪ Can I explain to you ♪
♪ Everything is going wrong ♪
♪ I've lost everything I had ♪
♪ I have to sing these sad songs to get back to her ♪
♪ And I want you, and I want you, and I want you ♪
♪ And I want you, and I want to tell you right now ♪
♪ That everything is going through my mind... ♪
♪ Bored stiff ♪
♪ When I'm with my baby ♪
♪ Bored stiff ♪
♪ When I'm watching TV ♪
♪ Bored stiff ♪
♪ When I'm on the subway ♪
♪ Bored stiff ♪
♪ I couldn't hit it sideways... ♪
(TV playing)
♪ Amped up and wired for sound ♪
♪ Flashing like there's no one around ♪
♪ It's a long way up, but a longer way down ♪
♪ Feel the explosion when I hit the ground... ♪
Reporter: In other news, the bodies of two unidentified white males
were found in an abandoned block
in the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn earlier today.
- The victims, who were badly beaten... - (music stops)
...and suffered severe blunt trauma to the head,
have yet to be identified.
(breathing heavily)
- (children laughing) - Hey!
- (screaming) - Don't mess with my car.
"Cha Cha Twist."
Oh, man.
I told you yesterday, I'm not recording any more bullshit dance records.
My deal was with Richie, all right?
- (groans) - (woman screams)
(screams)
- Get up. - (Lester whimpering)
- Get him up. Get him up. - Get up.
- Right there. There. Bam! - (groans)
Fuck. Now you listen.
I own your contract, you fucking shine.
You understand? You sing for me or you don't sing at all.
- You got that? - Yes.
- You got that? Say it! - Yes.
- Say you understand! - Yes, I understand.
All right. Let him up. Good boy.
- Good boy. - (shouts)
Oh, get off!
- (cracks) - (gasps)
- (coughs) - You all right?
My fucking hat. What's the matter with you?
- (kicks thudding) - (Lester groans)
- Galasso: Look at this. - (gasping)
Fucking shit. Let's get the fuck out of here.
The fuck you looking at? Mind your business.
Fuck's wrong with you?
(engine starts)
♪ Rhonda ♪
♪ When I'm on the street with you ♪
♪ Rhonda ♪
♪ You know what I'd like to do ♪
♪ Teasing them with your heels ♪
♪ Freeze them with your name ♪
♪ Playing with all the pretty boys ♪
♪ Send them up in flames ♪
♪ Cold chills ♪
♪ When you're dressed for fun ♪
♪ Cheap thrills ♪
♪ It's not just for anyone ♪
♪ Cruising to check the damage ♪
♪ After you get done ♪
♪ Making such sweet destruction ♪
♪ Playing hit and run. ♪
♪ Down the aisle ♪
♪ Darling, wear a lovely smile ♪
♪ Oh, you pretty thing... ♪
Daddy?
Hey, Ronnie.
Hey, buddy.
Daddy? What are you doing?
Hey, Daddy's just dancing. Daddy's just dancing.
You want to dance? Come on, buddy.
- Come on. Come on. Come dan... - Go back to bed.
Let him dance with me.
What?
(chuckles)
I...
Devon, I...
(laughs)
I fucked up.
I fucked up really bad.
And I want to tell you.
You can tell me.
- I can't. - Yeah, you can.
Come on, you can tell me.
I know. It's okay.
I know.
Our life isn't enough for you.
- (sighs) - Yeah.
- No. - No, it's not enough. You need this.
- No. - Yeah, here you go.
- No. No. - Take that.
Our life isn't enough for you. This is what you need.
- No. - This is what you need. Come here.
- Come on, take it. Take it. - No.
Have some. Come on.
There you go.
Ah!
(gasps)
(door slams)
(grunts)
(snorts, gasps)
(music playing)
- (shouting) - (gasps)
(cheering)
♪ And you're a prima ballerina on a spring afternoon ♪
♪ Change on into the wolfman ♪
- ♪ You howling at the moon... ♪ - (tinkling)
(howls)
♪ Personality crisis ♪
♪ You got it while it was hot, it's always hot, you know ♪
♪ But frustration and heartache is what you got ♪
♪ Can't you hear me about the personality? ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, personality... ♪
(crumbling)
♪ Now with all the crossing fingers that Mother Nature says ♪
♪ Your mirrors getting jammed up with all your friends ♪
♪ This personality, everything is starting to blend ♪
♪ Yes, it was a personality impression of a friend ♪
♪ Of a friend, of a friend, of a friend ♪
♪ Of a friend, personality ♪
♪ Wonder how celebrities ever met ♪
♪ Look and find out on television ♪
♪ Personality crisis, you got it while it was hot ♪
♪ But now frustration and heartache is what you got ♪
♪ Can't you hear me about the personality? ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
- ♪ Personality... ♪ - (shouts)
♪ Personality, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Whoa! ♪
(people screaming)
- (music stops) - (electricity crackling)
(screams)
(rumbling)
(sirens wailing)
(electricity crackling)
(gasping)
(woman coughing)
(groans)
(breathing heavily)
(woman crying) Oh, my God.
Woman: We need someone to get an ambulance.
(sirens wailing)
Hey, man, you all right?
(sirens continue)
- sync and corrections by Caio - - www.addic7ed.com -
♪ Just let me hear some of that rock and roll music ♪
♪ Any old way you choose it ♪
♪ It's got a backbeat, you can't lose it ♪
♪ Any old time you use it ♪
♪ It's got to be rock and roll music ♪
♪ If you want to dance with me ♪
♪ I have no kick against modern jazz ♪
♪ Unless they try to play it too darn fast ♪
♪ And change the beauty of the melody ♪
♪ Until it sound just like a symphony ♪
♪ That's why I go for that rock and roll music ♪
♪ Any old way you choose it ♪
♪ It's got a backbeat, you can't lose it ♪
♪ Any old time you use it ♪
♪ It's got to be rock and roll music ♪
♪ If you want to dance with me ♪
♪ I took my loved one over 'cross the tracks ♪
♪ So she could hear my man a-wailin' sax ♪
♪ I must admit they have a rocking band ♪
♪ Man, they were blowing like a hurricane ♪
♪ That's why I go for that rock and roll music ♪
♪ Any old way you choose it ♪
♪ It's got a backbeat, you can't lose it ♪
♪ Any old time you use it ♪
♪ It's got to be rock and roll music ♪
♪ If you want to dance with me ♪
♪ Way down South they gave a jubilee ♪
♪ The jockey folks, they had a jamboree ♪
♪ They're drinking home brew from a wooden cup ♪
♪ The folks dancing got all shook up ♪
♪ And started playing that rock and roll music ♪
♪ Any old way you choose it ♪
♪ It's got a backbeat, you can't lose it ♪
♪ Any old time you use it ♪
♪ It's got to be rock and roll music ♪
♪ If you want to dance with me ♪
♪ Don't care to hear them play a tango ♪
♪ I'm in the mood to dig a mambo ♪
♪ It's way too early for a congo ♪
♪ So keep a-rocking that piano ♪
♪ So I can hear some of that rock and roll music ♪
♪ Any old way you choose it ♪
♪ It's got a backbeat, you can't lose it ♪
♪ Any old time you use it ♪
♪ It's got to be rock and roll music ♪
♪ If you want to dance with me ♪
♪ If you want to dance with me. ♪
(record needle hissing)
(record scratches)