The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 1288: Adapt to changing circumstances
A little bit of regret, a little bit of regret.

All emotions are revealed naturally, slowly immersing in the silent atmosphere.

In this moment, it was Dallas himself, and it was Sam Phillips—

He couldn't lie, this performance just wouldn't work.

The young man in front of me came to recommend himself with a sense of urgency and desire.

It can be seen that he is shy and reserved, and is obviously not good at such things. It took him a lot of courage to take the first step and go to Sun Records to inquire about the situation. He carefully revealed his deep desire and pursuit of his dream, exposing his weaknesses and tenderness.

That kind of simplicity and honesty made Sam look at it differently.

Because Sam himself is the same, he only has a dream and a studio, that's all.

He thought he should give him a chance because he could see enthusiasm and sincerity in those shy eyes.

He thought he should let him continue singing, at least for one more bar, maybe there would be a surprise later.

however……

Sam could not hide his regret. He was even more regretful and sad than the young man in front of him. He sincerely hoped to dig out a treasure.

Unfortunately, there is only one Elvis Presley, and Sun Records may never find a second genius.

Johnny didn't notice.

He was so absorbed in his performance that he didn't even realize how nervous he was. How could he have the energy to observe Sam's reaction?
Johnny felt that he was getting on with the groove.

Now, he needs to open his throat and release his emotions and voice. After the verse has laid the foundation, the chorus is the moment to show his talent.

"It's all so real, I want to shout out loud..."

Johnny didn't just yell at the top of his lungs, but instead poured his soul into the song, swaying his body to the melody, trying to express the true feelings in the lyrics.

But in Sam's opinion -

Nothing new.

This is basically a routine. Every singer thinks they have "infused soul", but the plain and straightforward voice really has no emotion or soul.

Moreover, all gospel singers are like this, their verses are soulful and their choruses are passionate, they are all the same.

Sam finally couldn't control himself and raised his right hand, trying to stop Johnny.

Johnny didn't notice, he even closed his eyes, looking intoxicated, Luther and Marshall were no exception, immersed in their own world.

That scene and that look made Sam's mouth twitch slightly, revealing a slightly absurd and bitter smile:

Maybe they treated the studio like their porch, and after a beer and a guitar, they sang along in the warm Memphis evening breeze, and their wives and friends cheered, and then they thought they could make a record.

"Cough cough."

Although very reluctant, Sam cleared his throat and tried to interrupt the performance.

Unfortunately, it still didn't work, Johnny and his two companions continued to sing -

It was calm and lifeless. I tried my best to inject energy into it, but there was still no spark.

"Wait a minute."

"Wait a minute!"

Sam made a noise to interrupt the performance.

Johnny was stunned, standing there in bewilderment and surprise. Luther and Marshall finally came to their senses while holding their instruments, but it was obvious that they had no idea what was going on.

Johnny's eyes began to shake violently.

They were shocked for a moment. Their performance was just entering the most exciting part, so why was it interrupted?
A moment of nervousness. Was this the end? Had he screwed up his only chance?

Mixed emotions were pulling at each other in the pupils, but disappeared before they had time to ferment, and finally turned into a state of confusion, and he stood there stupidly.

However, Sam didn't notice, or rather, he didn't have time to notice.

If he felt guilty every time he turned down a singer who came to audition, he should not do this business. Despite the regret and regret, Sam still had to be honest.

"I hate to interrupt, but do you have any other songs?"

Silence. Quiet.

Luther and Marshall looked away blankly, finally looking at Johnny.

Johnny was still frozen in place, time had moved on, but his thoughts were still on the back: What on earth had happened that had interrupted their performance?
Obviously what comes next should be the climax and the highlight, right?
The air slowly became stiff and settled.

Dallas felt a little uncomfortable. He finally noticed the gaze in front of him. The gaze was fixed on him stiffly and straightly, motionless. It seemed that the gaze could see through all his thoughts through the eyes, which made him feel a little embarrassed.

A little nervous, a little uneasy.

However, not the kind that withdraws and is afraid, but the kind that is ready to rip off the Band-Aid.

Dallas knew that he had to act quickly, accurately and ruthlessly, and that a short pain was better than a long one.

After taking a breath, Sam avoided Johnny's gaze and looked at Luther and Marshall. They both seemed at a loss and didn't even dare to look him in the eye.

Helplessly, Sam looked at Johnny again and gently let out the breath that had been stuck in his throat.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t sell gospel songs anymore.”

“I can’t sell it anymore.”

Band-Aid, ripped off.

Sam started packing up, there was no need to continue the audition.

The air remained quiet, with only the sound of papers being flipped.

Finally, Johnny's soul kept up with the passage of time and returned to his body. His brain recognized the reality and was shocked and surprised. Amidst the shock, tension, anger, bewilderment and confusion were intertwined.

Johnny finally found his voice.

"So, that's it?"

Even this sentence seemed so light and powerless, like duckweed, unable to grasp the center of gravity and find balance, floating in the breeze.

Johnny could feel his vocal cords vibrating, as if traveling through space—

Without air, sound cannot travel.

So, there was only vibration but no sound. Johnny was not sure whether the other party heard his words, nor did he know how to express himself.

All he could do was look Sam in the face, trying to get his point across with his eyes.

Staring intently, concentrating fully.

Sam felt the warmth of his gaze and stopped packing. He looked up helplessly and met Johnny's gaze.

Stubborn. Persistent. Innocent. Childish.

At this moment, Sam was sitting on a high stool, and Johnny remained standing. His spine, which had been stiff and slightly hunched due to nervousness, was now completely straightened. His upright posture, unrestrained temperament and handsome face were like a green pine, standing upright and looking down at him from above.

Looking up from below, Sam could clearly see the look in those eyes, which contained a purity that had not been polished by society.

Sam thought about it and raised his chin slightly. Although he was still at a disadvantage, he turned the situation around quietly and firmly grasped the initiative.

What should he say?

"I don't record anything that can't sell. Mr. Cash."

No twist, just a fatal blow.

“Gospel songs like this don’t sell.”

Although plain, these straightforward words were so sharp and powerful that they instantly shattered Johnny's self-esteem and pride.

(End of this chapter)