The Rap Star [EN]: Chapter 209

< Verse 32. Through to New York >

***

New York City comprises five boroughs:

Manhattan, the Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island.

Each borough boasts its own distinct character, making it challenging for visitors to decide where to explore.

But what if a traveler is particularly drawn to Black music?

The itinerary might then focus on Harlem, Webster Hall, the East Village, and similar locales. Even within those areas, numerous options and considerations would still abound.

However, if the New York visit falls on a Wednesday, Black music enthusiasts need look no further.

Their destination is automatically decided.

It’s the Apollo Theater.

Apollo Theater.

A renowned theater and music venue in Harlem, New York, and arguably the most iconic theater in the United States.

It’s famed for the saying, “Where Stars are Born and Legends are Made.”

The Apollo Theater attracts over 1.3 million visitors annually, but Wednesdays hold a special significance.

Because Wednesday is ‘Amateur Night’ at the Apollo Theater.

Amateur Night.

Amateur Night, launched in 1934 when the Apollo Theater opened its doors to all races, is an audition event held every Wednesday at 7:30 PM.

It’s more than just a one-off performance.

Amateur Night winners can be scouted by agencies and offered modeling opportunities.

Even those unfamiliar with Amateur Night would be astonished by the list of musicians who launched their careers there.

Michael Jackson, James Brown, Stevie Wonder, Usher, and other prominent Black musicians gained invaluable opportunities through the Apollo Theater.

An audition open to anyone with talent in singing, dancing, rapping, beatboxing, etc.

A place where stars are born and legends are made, judged by the audience and a panel of experts.

The Apollo Theater’s Amateur Night.

“What your name?”

It was on Wednesday, July 19, 2006, that an Asian man stood on that stage.

“Uhm… Five Six.”

It was Sanghyun, using the rap name 56.

***

Passing beneath the gaudy ‘APOLLO’ sign in red letters and entering the building, the theater’s interior, reminiscent of an opera house, immediately came into view.

Sanghyun had never actually been to an opera house, but the Apollo Theater’s interior closely matched his mental image.

A stark contrast to the somewhat run-down exterior.

The first striking feature was the chandelier suspended from the high, expansive ceiling, complemented by a terrace-like space on the left.

This area typically housed string instrumentalists, and the light beige terrace, positioned between the stage and the audience seating, evoked the anticipation of a magnificent string performance.

Looking down, the theater’s central stage was clearly visible.

The stage, situated in the very heart of the theater, featured a dark brown floor, resembling a banquet hall for noble gatherings rather than a typical performance space.

A scene that felt old-fashioned and antique, like a medieval noble’s castle. Yet, a closer look revealed an array of state-of-the-art sound equipment.

Regardless, the defining element of Wednesday at the Apollo Theater was the presence of the participants and the audience.

The participants, their faces alight with excitement, gazed at the stage where they would soon perform. Numerous audience members were seated or stood near the entrance, awaiting their turn to enter.

This was the quintessential Apollo Theater scene, a sight to behold every Wednesday evening, according to Standard.

And Sanghyun and Standard were part of that scene.

“How is it? Nervous?”

“Of course, I’m nervous. I’m dying here.”

“Really? You didn’t seem nervous at all during the preliminaries.”

“The preliminaries were for the judges, but this is for the public. And it’s the public in the home of hip-hop. Ugh, I’m so nervous. I wish it would start already.”

“You know you’re almost last, right?”

“I know. Third from the back.”

The reason Sanghyun, who had been exploring Harlem, decided to participate in Amateur Night was quite simple.

Standard suggested it, and the moment he heard the idea, he felt a compelling urge to try.

He had no intention of backing out.

He came to New York to gauge the potential of his music, and Amateur Night presented the perfect opportunity.

Collaborating with KRS-One [a legendary hip-hop artist] was another way to test his music in the United States, but Amateur Night offered the most direct experience of ‘being evaluated by the public in the home of hip-hop.’

“If I make it into the top two today, the second round of the main competition is next Wednesday?”

“Yeah. It’s more accurate to call it the monthly finals rather than the second round.”

The Apollo Theater’s Amateur Night, in which Sanghyun was participating, involved a total of four stages to reach the final victory.

There was the preliminary round, the weekly finals, the monthly finals, and the final competition held every October.

Sanghyun, having passed the preliminary round, was now competing in the ‘weekly finals’ in the third week of July. A top-two finish would qualify him for the ‘monthly finals’ held on the last Wednesday of July.

And a top-two placement in the monthly finals would earn him a spot in the final competition held every October with 20 contestants.

In other words, it was a chance to achieve stardom.

Amateur Night is so popular that simply passing the preliminary round is a significant accomplishment.

However, Sanghyun found it easier than expected.

Even rapping in Korean.

“I never imagined you’d rap in your native language. I thought my heart was going to drop.”

Sanghyun smiled at Standard’s comment. He felt some anxiety, but he was confident in his ability to pass the preliminary round.

This wasn’t arrogance or overconfidence, but a belief in his own abilities.

“Why? The first time you heard my music was the live video of ‘Move It,’ right? You said you liked it a lot as soon as you heard it.”

“Is that the same thing? I was fascinated by your musical interpretation as a musician, but the public doesn’t look at the process; they look at the result. There’s definitely a language barrier.”

“Well, that’s true.”

Standard frowned at Sanghyun’s reaction.

“You’re not really going to rap in Korean in the finals, are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? You’re better at English than me? You sent me a track back then. Was it ‘Worldwide’?”

“‘Worldwide’? I just did it as an experiment to see if I could rap in English.”

“What kind of nuclear experiment is that? Was the experiment that successful? Please, just sing ‘Worldwide.’ Then you have a chance to advance to the monthly finals.”

“I don’t know…”

“If you win the monthly finals and get into the top 20 finalists, Coca-Cola might sponsor you!”

Standard was frustrated by Sanghyun’s lukewarm response. But Sanghyun had no intention of rapping in English.

Of course, if he were starting his music career in the LA or New York underground, rapping in English would be the logical choice. It would allow him to connect with others who shared the same language and cultural understanding.

But he was a guest, an outsider.

So, he wanted to be judged solely on the merits of his Korean rap in this venue, regardless of the outcome.

“Stop whining. I’ll sing the chorus in English.”

“What are you going to sing? Is it a JFTR track [referring to their group’s album]?”

Sanghyun nodded in response to Standard’s question.

“Seoul City Mind.”

The song Sanghyun would perform at Amateur Night was Seoul City Mind, the 9th track from JFTR.

Originally, Seoul City Mind was a collaboration with Minji and Hayeon, but Sanghyun was able to perform a solo version.

This was possible not only for Sanghyun but also for most of the 888 Crew members [their music crew]. After working on a track for an extended period, multiple verses were often created.

Seoul City Mind had the longest production timeline of all the tracks on JFTR.

“Hmm… Seoul City Mind might be okay.”

“What about ‘Just For The Record’?”

“It’ll be a disaster.”

Sanghyun laughed at Standard’s remark.

Perhaps due to cultural differences, Standard didn’t particularly care for the 10th track, Just For The Record, which was a favorite among the 888 Crew members. He even stated that it was his least favorite track.

When asked why he disliked it, Standard simply said that it was so obvious that he couldn’t articulate a specific reason.

Sanghyun wasn’t offended by this assessment.

Instead, he felt excited and motivated.

It suggested that there was some ‘disadvantage’ in the 10th track that he couldn’t grasp without living in the United States and sharing a similar musical perspective. Discovering that element would provide an opportunity to further refine his music.

Sanghyun encountered many busking musicians while walking around Harlem with Standard.

Among them were rappers, and their skills were impressive. Sanghyun thought some of them were exceptionally talented.

However, despite their abilities, they hadn’t broken into the mainstream New York hip-hop scene and were showcasing their music on the streets.

While they might be building their careers, it was evident that the standards for hip-hop were incredibly high in this city.

‘Shall we dive in?’

From Jay-Z’s Empire State of Mind, born in the melting pot of New York, to Seoul City Mind.

***

Amateur Night unfolded with enthusiastic participation from the audience that filled the Apollo Theater.

Some people were seated and listening, while others stood on either side of the stage. The scene appeared somewhat chaotic, but there was an underlying order that allowed the performers to showcase their talents without disruption.

Amateur Night in the third week of July featured a total of 15 participants.

Having survived a fierce competition with an acceptance rate of less than 1 in 15, the level of performance was significantly higher than typical auditions.

The audience generously cheered for outstanding performances and offered encouraging applause to those who made mistakes.

However, they also responded with surprisingly cold silence to performers who failed to meet their expectations.

It was part of the Apollo Theater’s culture to ensure that the judges were not misled, as the audience’s reaction served as a crucial indicator.

The loudest cheers were reserved for a Chinese-American beatboxer and a middle-aged white man from Chicago who performed stand-up comedy.

Sanghyun didn’t fully grasp stand-up comedy.

He understood the words, but he struggled to comprehend the sources of humor. Every time the comedians referenced terrorism, New York, or the government, the audience erupted in laughter, but he honestly didn’t understand why it was funny.

Before he knew it, more than an hour had passed, and the performance preceding Sanghyun’s began.

It was a soulful rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “Theme from New York, New York,” a song synonymous with the city, and it received the most enthusiastic applause of the evening thus far.

Sanghyun waited backstage, a slight smile on his face.

The previous performer had delivered a love letter to New York, and now it was his turn to express his affection for the capital of Korea, Seoul.

< Verse 32. Through to New York > End

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