Vinyl (2016): Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot - full transcript

Richie Finestra considers selling his struggling record company; Richie takes a detour to an unplanned reunion with Lester Grimes; Richie orders his A&R department to find new acts; Richie ...



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.

You know what, fuck it, make it a quarter.


It's what I'm charging. You okay with that?

Of course you are.


Keep the 20.


Wall Street man?

I look like a fucking Wall Street man?

Record man.

Record man, ah.

At least till now.

Yeah? What happens now?

What, are you fucking writing a book?
Get the fuck out of here.








Oh, yeah.







VOEHEL: Homicide. Detective Voehel.

- MAN: Hey, come on, guys!
- Detective Voehel.




Detective Voehel.



(SINGING) 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...

MAN: Anybody got a ticket?
Anybody got a ticket?

BOUNCER: You got a ticket? Come on in.

Get in, get in, get in.

Thank you.

Whoa, ticket. 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


Yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, baby, no, no, baby, yeah

Yeah, no, no, yeah

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


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


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


And you're a prima ballerina
on a spring afternoon

Change on into the wolfman
You howling at the moon


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

RICHIE: 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.


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: Hyman Weiss invented
the $100 handshake back in the '50s.

But by 1971...

I don't know why this is in there,
yeah, 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.

- All right. You know what? Fuck this.
- Oh, yeah, fuck it.

- Ah, take care of us now.
- Always a pleasure.

What, you thought songs only
got played 'cause they're good?


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.


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.


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,

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.

VON KINKEL: Mr. Finestra. All is in order?

Mr. Finestra?
ls there a problem with the document?


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.


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.


Pearl Harbor... Despicable.

- Yeah.
- Yeah. It was awful.

VON KINKEL: 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.



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.

lam definitely, uh, mulling it.

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.

We have ways of making you sign the papers!


We are so fucking close, I can smell it, man.

"Smell it?"
It's that German pussy you had last night.

You know what? 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.

Ja, they will elect me the fuhrer, not you.

I will be elected the fuhrer, ja?

I can't wait. I can't wait.

Just to stick it in their
Nazi fucking asses, you know?

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, yeah,
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?
- 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.


-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.

- 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.

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.
- The what?

Jerk off first, then Chekhov later.

- No, no, Chekhov. You know, The Seagull.
- Hmm?

You have to know something, guys.
lam 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.

I got a big crooked hard-on right now.

- Hey, listen, could I ask you a question?
- Yeah, sure.

Do you speak English?


- You're German, right? You're German.
- No, guys, I'm Russian.

ZAK: Russian, okay. That's one dictator over.

- L'm good.
- Aren't you gonna play with me?

Come on, buddy, take a hit.
Come on, take a fucking hit.

- L'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. All 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.

(YELPS) You see? You see? He's intelligent.
He knows. He knows. You see?

- He does. He knows a lot, Richie.
- You see?

- ZAK: Yes, I do.
- Here, what about you?

- ZAK: 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.
- Shh! Say.

You're scaring me and I fucking love it.

...the train to 207th Street.


(SINGING) I said, Mama,
but we're all crazy now

I said, Mama, but we're all crazy now

I said, Mama, but we're all crazy now


American Century. Good afternoon.


Can I help you?

I need to give that to the head of A&R.

Julie only sees people by appointment.

Uh, yeah, well,
I saw her the other night at Max's

-and she said I could just...
- He.

Julie, 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, I told...

-ls 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.


They sold two million albums
in the UK last year.

How did, um, the Nasty Bits do?

(CLICKS TONGUE) 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.



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

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?
-l'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? Ah! That was not intentional.

Was that Suicide, by the way?
'Cause they're way too niche.

What the fuck do you want, Clark?

Well, uh, a blowjob, but, you know,
I'll settle for an ounce of weed.


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.



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, you know,
that we're not supposed to know about?

Really, Clark, you're gonna
try and bond with me now?

Oh, come on, please.
My job could be on the line.



Please, Jamie. Please, please, please.

God damn it, you're annoying.

Okay, Cece spoke to Richie
before they took off from Hamburg.


She said he sounded pretty stoked.

Oh, my God. Shit. Are you serious?

- Yeah.
- Aw, 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?
-ls 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!

I... 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? (CHUCKLES)

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, lam. Oh, yes, lam.

Buck. Buck.

Buck. Talk to me, Buck.

Buck! Buck!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Fuck! Fuck!

Donny fucking Osmond. Can you believe it?


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 Seventh.


CROWD: (CHANTING) Led Zep! Led Zep!

Led Zep! Led Zep!

GRANT: 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... Are you really?
Then how the fuck have you got people...


- Oh! Look at you.
- Hey, Richie. What a surprise.

- Hey, finally, huh?
- What?

- We're in business.
- Oh, gee whiz. News to me.

Did you know anything about that? (LAUGHS)

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 getting
into fucking authority.

- He looks busy. You and me talk.

Ah... 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. Huh?
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 find 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.
- Hmm? Um...

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, huh,
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?

All right. 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.
-l'm gonna make it right.

- I'm gonna talk to G.
- You do that.

GRANT: Get out there
and do your fucking job...


ROBERT: New York!

(SINGING) 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

LEVITT: 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.

What, Richie?

You're a fucking imbecile, that's what.

Oh, 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.

Yeah, '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. Ugh, all right, Richie, listen,
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.


(ON RADIO) Hi, Bill Minkin
for The King Biscuit Flower Hour.

Tonight starring Humble Pie
and featuring Frampton's Camel.


(SINGING) Black coffee is my name

DRIVER: Greenwich?


Not a thing

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

See, I got hungover before I was 10

I don't owe anything to anybody.

When I take office,
I'll start the greatest talent search

this city has ever seen.

On Election Day, vote column B.

Elect the new democratic team,
the Beame Team.

Jeez, it's a fucking parking lot.

COP: What are you doing?

DRIVER: Water main break.

COP: I'm trying to get you out of here.

MAN: (OVER RAND) You say
you're a citizen and pay your taxes,

but I condone that you
pray for a man of God...


Hey, somethings 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.


(SINGING) I don't want you

(ON TURNTABLE) 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


RICHIE: What was that? Do you hear that?


Pull over.

- The expressway is right here.
- Just do it.


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... This music?


- Hey.
- What's it to you, motherfucker?

I'm just trying to get home.

- Okay, let's take it easy.
-"Take it easy"?


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.


Stomp your feet

Clap your hand

Stomp your feet


Huh, huh

Huh, huh

MAN: Lester Grimes, The World is Yours,

November 11th, 1963.

Nola penthouse, studio three, take one.

We're rolling.


LESTER: (SINGING) The world is yours, baby

I'm just here on borrowed time

EMCEE: Give a warm welcome to a young man
who hails from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Mr. Lester Grimes.

You know I don't find my pretty baby

You know I almost lose my mind

You have the world all in your bed

Yes, and they topple right in your hands

You have the 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


LESTER: Skip James.

RICHIE: Peetie Wheatstraw.

- Big Boy Crudup.
- Pinetop Perkins.

- Kokomo Arnold.

(SINGING) When you playing policy, buddy

Play four, 11 and 44

And when you get your money
Pack your bags and go

Crying, oh


That's it.

Man, you sure you're a white man?

- Mmm, I'm Italian.


Them blues, man.
I breathed that shit as a kid.

Gospel, too.

Thomas A. Dorsey, William Brewster,
Reverend Gary Davis.

- Wow!
- Mmm.

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.
- Mmm.

So, what, you sing? You play an instrument?


I used to try to write songs, but...

Well, keep at it, man.


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?

My life without you, baby

Just ain't no good if you ain't around...


Yeah, yeah!



DEVON". 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?

(CHUCKLING) 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?

- Hmm... None of your business.
- Babe, I don't want a party.

Well, you can't always get what you want.


- 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 as soon as you bend over, you shove it
right up your asshole! Didn't you?

- 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?

Oh... 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.

Look, 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!


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.


- Too late.
- Hey, cut it out!

- It's too late, Richie. It's too late.
- All right, all right, all right.

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.


I'm not telling him.

There's more.


Buck Rogers, Ellerbee Broadcasting.

ANNOUNCER: For his distinguished service
to the radio community.

- The radio guy. I know you do.
- RICHIE: I know who the fuck he is.

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?

ZAK: He's a fucking maniac!
You know that guy.


He thinks we favor his competitors now,

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... (STAMMERING)
He's the best promotion man in the business.

Fourteen radio stations
across every major market

not willing to play any of our albums.

It'll spread like a 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?

These are the original white people, folks.

Hey, is this Swedish?

Look at you, little Miss Woman of the World.

Yeah, whoever knew you went
north of Queens Boulevard, right?

Oh, 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.

- Hey, Rich.
- I left that Aerosmith bootleg with Cece.

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.


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?

Oui, oui... ls that...

CLARK: What was Atlantic thinking?
This is crazy.

JAMIE: I know. But it's catchy, right?
You can dance to it.

Hey, uh, 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?

You're all hearing this the same way?



Of course.

Three bars.

Three bars, I can tell
they'll be filling football stadiums.

JULIE: Come on, Richie. (CHUCKLING)

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.

Okay. They... (COUGHING)

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.



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? The 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.

You know, Ahmet Ertegun walked through
a fucking swamp to sign...

Professor Longhair, yeah,
we all know that story.

You're a wise-ass now?

No, no, no. Just, I hear you, man.

- Oh! 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.

You know, maybe we could get hipper offices.
Move out of the Brill Building.

I like it here, asshole.


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.
- JULIE: Nine months.

Nine months,

I sat in the dark to sign José 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.

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.


He treats your daughter mean


He treats your daughter mean


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.

Kiddie music. (CHUCKLES)

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.


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...

Little Jimmy Little.

You know, 'cause you're tall. You're big.

You see? It's terrific.
Five hundred cash, three points I'm offer...

You know, let me talk to your manager
for a second, please.

- Two seconds.
- Thank you.


- How you doing?
- Yeah, I'm good.

Are you retarded?


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

(SINGING) Heard New York
was paved with gold

It's worse than tooting...

ls there something wrong with your


The Bits come to add to the Noise pollution

If you try to silence us...

MAN: 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...


WOMAN: You're fucking trash!

MAN 2: You got nothing!

No, get off the stage! Get 'em off!

Went to fight the Vietcong

We all got shafted...

You fucking suck.

You fucking suck.

Village fried, the devil's laughing

New York is rotten now

Light the match and we'll burn it down

The devil smiles as he

Uncle Sam smiles and takes a bow

He takes a...

Fucking cunts. Come on, you motherfuckers.




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!

JOE". 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...

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.

- This mother...
-(LAUGHING) Calm down, Buck.

Calm down? lt 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 an 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.


What a fucking ridiculous question.
Of course not.


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 jerk-off guy?

And he's all happy, right?

And I'm left looking like a jerk-off.

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.

BUCK: "Bigger they are"?

Let me explain something, my friend.

There's always somebody bigger,

and that's the moneyman.

That's you, right, Daddy?

Huh, 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.
- Come on. Rich, you want a hit?

Oh, I forgot, Rich.


- Are we gonna party?

This is over, right, Rich? We're moving on?

- Let's move on. Richie?
- Let's move on.

- Salud. To the future.
- Salud.

JOE: Hey, are we all in the same line here?

- Party time, motherfucker. All fucking good.
- We're good, Rich.





I want you to know
I've never done this before.

(CHUCKLING) You was a virgin?


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?


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 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?
- Uh-huh.

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.





That's it.

That's your persona.

- Not giving a fuck?
- Yeah.

Not giving a fuck.


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?



Why isn't she in bed?

Stomach thing.

How was the Oasis?

- Still serving sex?
- Yeah.

Oh, these guys. (SIGHS)

- They're animals.
- Mmm-hmm.

Joe Corso's promotion guy.

Buck Rogers.

Flash Gordon not available?

- He owns radio stations.
- Hmm.

(WHISPERING) Careful. Don't wake her.

Your eyes are bloodshot.


I'm not high, Dev.

What, are you kidding me?

It was an observation. You can relax.



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.

Twenty 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... (SHUSHING)

Okay, you go to bed. I'll put her down.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Come here, little chicken.

(WHISPERING) I'm here. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I'll see you upstairs.

(SIGNING) 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
- I like it like that

- 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
- 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.

It's still running. (LAUGHING)

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?

- Set?
- Lester, you ready?

- Yeah.
- All right.

Little Jimmy Little, The Cha Cha Twist.
Take one.


(SINGING) 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...

Have you seen my sis?

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...
- 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?
- Mmm-hmm!

(CHUCKLES) She loves it.

Her mom looked like that when I first met her.


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

- The name of the place, I like it like that
- 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,


Technically, yes.

But in reality, they only look like flops.

Oh, 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?

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...


First gold record. First gold record.

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.


But I got to tell you,

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...

ZAK: How awful!

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... This man is...

- 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.

LEVITT: I mean,
not specifically your generation.

(STUTTERING) 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?

- Yeah.
- Okay.

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...

DOM: 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.

INGRID: Devon.

- Ingrid.

What are you doing here?

What am I doing here? That breaks my heart.

- No, I... (STUTTERS)
-(LAUGHING) I'm kidding.

I'm here with a friend. Um, John Addison.

He owns Le Jardin.


A new discotheque in the city, um...

Speaking of which, Andy was there

and he asked for you just the other night.

- He asked for me?
- Mmm.

Lou was with us and, um, 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.

(EXHALES) So, this place, huh?

-It's stunning.
- Thank you.

So are you.

Oh, 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.


(SINGING) I'm a lover

You ain't nothing but a son of a gun...



DEVON: 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.
- DEVON: Yes, he is.

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.
- LEVITT: That's true.

You are what you eat.

There is something you may not know.

And I figured tonight was the perfect venue
to come clean.

-MAN: Oh-Oh...

So, um, if I may.


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.


Um... It was because we never
made it out of bed.

(ALL (zooms)

- Ho,ho!
- Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Ho, what about front row

when Townshend beat Abbie Hoffman
off stage with his Gibson, huh?

- Alvin Lee.
- We heard this constantly.

Smoking a doob 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.

I love you.


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."


WOMAN 1: 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.

Happy birthday.

(SINGING) 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.
- Ah.

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.


Screamin' Jay Hawkins.

Joe Houston.

All night long.


Summer of '55,

Kingsway Theater in Brooklyn,

Blackboard Jungle was playing.

So me and my friends, we go down,
sit down...


The MGM logo comes up.

That snare just kicks.


- One, two, three o'clock
-...four o'clock rock

Oh, man, me and my friends,
we went fucking crazy.

What is that, huh?

It's rock and roll.

- Mr. Finestra. Telephone.
- Thanks.

JOE: It's Corso.

- RICHIE: Joe, hey, what's up?
-"What's up?"

- We're up.
- BUCK: Oh, shit.

- What's that mean?
- 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 a sec.

I got a house full of people. It's my birthday.

- I thought this was important.
- Hang out with me.

Come on.

RICHIE: 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...
- I know.

-...over four goddamn years ago.
- Hey!

Okay. Cool your jets, kid.

Come on, sit down. Sit down.


Listen to me. It's Maury.

He's got some cash flow problems.
From fucking gambling.

I got bills myself, Richie.

All right, here.


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, okay?

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.
- No more bullshit dance records.

World is yours.



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?



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.

(CHUCKLES) 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.




You told me to call him to come over here.

You wanted to talk to him.
You forgot already?


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?



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.

You know, family commitments.

Yeah. Family.

Richie. Richie, come over here.

You got to see this, please.

- Come on, please.
- Okay, I'm coming.

You ever see this movie?

What, Frankenstein?

lt 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.

You got to face your fears.

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.
- Right.


What the fuck?
Put the fucking gun down, asshole!


Oh, 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.

- Come on. Where you going?
- I've got to go home, all right.

- Come on, 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.
You know that?

Fuck! Motherfucker!

- I'll fucking kill you.
- Richie, calm down.

- Calm the fuck down.
- He put his fucking hands on me.

Calm down.


What the fuck?








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.


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.

Fucking get him off me!

Get the fuck off me! Get him off me!

Get off! Get off! Get off!

Get off me! Get off me!

Fuck! Get off me!

- Back!
- What the fuck? Die! You fuckin'...


We got to call the cops.

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.


That's right.

We. Me and you.


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.

(SINGING) 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


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.

Oh, 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.


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,

an investigation on a scumbag like this.

Here. Here's good. Right over here.

Hey, that's Donny Osmond, right? Huh.

You hear that, you prick?

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.


The band, Nasty Bits.

Yeah, right. Good.

Zak needs to see you right away.

And, um, 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.


From the Germans.

The board okayed the buyout.
We fucking did it!



- We're gonna be fucking rich.
- Congratulations.

- You asshole.
- We're gonna be fucking rich.

- Rich.
- I don't know what to say.

- Hey!
- Good lord.



(CHUCKLES) 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.
-l'll call you.

- Hey.
- Richie.

(SINGING) 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.

GALASSO: 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?


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.

- 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?


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 anyway I can.


Oh, Richie, 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 Jimmy 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. (CHUCKLES)

He's good. He stays.

Well, there you go, paesa.

You okay over there, my friend?

Yeah. Yes.


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

And I want you, and I want you

And I want you, and I want to tell you

That everything is going through my mind...

(ON TAPE DECK) 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...

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

and suffered severe
blunt trauma to the head,

have yet to be identified.



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?


THUG: Get up.

- GALASSO: Get him up. Get him up.
- Get up.

Right there. There. Bam!

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?

- You got that? Say it!
- Yes.

- Say you understand!
-(CRYING) Yes, I understand.

All right. Let him up. Good boy.

- Good boy.

Hey! Get off!



You all right?

My fucking hat. What's the matter with you?

Look at this.


- THUG: Fucking shit.
- Let's get the fuck out of here.

The fuck you looking at? Mind your business.

Fuck's wrong with you?

(SINGING) Rhonda

When I'm on the street with you


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


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...
- Go back to bed.

Let him dance with me.



Devon, I...

- I fucked up.
- Mmm-hmm.

I fucked up really bad.

And I want to tell you.

You can tell me.

- I can't.
- Yeah, you can.

(SOFTLY) Come on, you can tell me.

I know. It's okay.

I know.

Our life isn't enough for you.


- 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.

Have some. Come on.

There you go.







(SINGING) And you're a prima ballerina
on a spring afternoon

Change on into the wolfman

You howling at the moon...

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...

Now, with all the cards of fate
that mother nature sends

Your mirror's getting jammed up
with all your friends

That's personality
Every scene 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, yeah, yeah, yeah









WOMAN: (CRYING) on, my God.


WOMAN: We need someone
to get an ambulance.

Hey, man, you all right?


(SINGING) 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 sounds 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

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

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