The Greatest Showman

Renly’s head was still throbbing faintly. The hangover pounded at the surface of his brain, making it feel like a group of tiny people were trekking across mountains in his skull. All that remained of last night were broken fragments of memory, impossible to piece together. Not that he wanted to remember—wasn’t the whole point of drinking to forget reality and indulge in unrestrained revelry?Outside the car window, the scenery blurred by in reverse. Towering palm trees basked in golden sunlight, and on the wide streets, people in floral shorts and flip-flops strolled about leisurely—a vivid reminder to Renly that they were in Los Angeles, not New York.“Renly, are you okay? Should we pull over and grab a coffee?” Andy’s concerned voice came from beside him.Renly waved his hand dismissively, rejecting the suggestion. He felt like if he drank coffee now, he’d throw up immediately. The churning in his stomach was truly alarming.“Or, maybe we should stop and grab some breakfast instead, at least to settle your stomach a bit,” Andy asked again, worried.Renly just waved him off again. He didn’t even feel like talking, let alone putting food in his stomach—it felt like too much of a burden.“Renly, are you sure you’re alright? Do you even know where we’re heading right now?” Andy was beginning to feel that something was seriously off.Renly finally turned his head, his eyes drooping as he glanced sideways at Andy. “I don’t want to talk right now. What I want most is for you to be quiet for a while. Didn’t you pick up on that signal?” His helpless sarcasm froze Andy’s smile for a moment, which actually amused Renly. A smirk crept onto his lips. “We’re heading to the recording studio. Don’t worry—I’m not going to throw up in there.”Andy began to sweat.How did things end up like this? Renly found it all rather amusing.If someone had told him a week ago that Cleopatra wouldn’t just make it onto the Billboard chart, but would actually capture public attention and spark a moderate wave of buzz—and that he would be heading into a recording studio to record an official version of the song—he would have thought it is the funniest joke since 2010.And yet, here they are, in a car heading to Sound City.Located on the west side of Universal Studios, Sound City is actually the name of a recording studio—symbolic of Los Angeles’s most glorious and beautiful musical dreams since the 1970s. Founded in 1969, against the smoky backdrop of the Vietnam War, its humble beginnings didn’t match the flower-power, freedom-loving aesthetic of the hippie movement at the time. Even the most unknown singers were reluctant to record their voices in such a “dirty, messy, and scary” place.However, as the 1970s progressed and legendary artists like Spirit and Neil Young recorded classic albums there, Sound City began drawing more attention. Countless great names have left their mark within its walls—Metallica, Elton John, Nirvana—all recorded albums here that cemented their legendary status.This rise turned Sound City into one of the most iconic studios in Los Angeles, drawing crowds of fans eager to pay homage.But entering the 21st century, music formats and recording methods changed dramatically—for example, Renly had recorded Cleopatra on his home computer. This technological shift gradually diminished the industry status of recording studios, even one as prestigious as Sound City.And now, they were about to arrive there – Renly’s first ever professional studio session.To Renly, it felt like a fantastical journey. More than just recording a single, it was about standing in the same studio where musical legends once stood. That, to him, was the most magical part. As for the single itself, he didn’t place much hope in it. To him, music was just another part of his hobbies—like free climbing or surfing—just one of the many things he did in his spare time.

What does it feel like to record music in the same studio where a classic album like Nevermindwas once produced?
What does it feel like to stand in the very space where Kurt Cobain once roamed with wild abandon, feeling the pulse of music?
And going further—what does it feel like to record your own music in that same studio?

Now, Renlyhad the chance to find out for himself.

“Andy, how did you manage to book a session at Sound City in such a short time?”

The nausea in his stomach was finally subsiding, and the swelling in his brain seemed to ease under the warm California sun. As the building of Sound City gradually came into view, Renlycouldn’t help but get excited, so he took the initiative to ask.

Andy spread his hands. “It’s not the ‘hottest studio’ in the city anymore.”

“But it’s still amazing!” Renlyexclaimed. After all, the turnaround time had been incredibly short—only a 30-minute window.

Andy shrugged, as if it was nothing worth mentioning. As a top agent at CreativeArtists Agency, pulling off something like this was hardly out of his league.

From the outside, Sound City looked like an abandoned garage. The yellowing walls were peeling, flies buzzed around rusted pipes, and the expansive parking lot held about a dozen vintage cars—but not a single person was in sight. It felt desolate and cold, like a forgotten corner of the city.

The former glory and bustle had all faded into silence. It was barren and bleak. You could almost still hear the echoes of flowers and cheers in your ears, but your eyes saw only emptiness.

With just one glance, Renlyfell in love with the place. (T/N – Of course he did…)

Unfortunately, he hadn’t brought his camera, so he took out his phone instead. Standing in the corner of the parking lot, he captured that moment on film, sealing it forever.

Renly and Andy pushed open the large red wooden door.
Contrary to the high-end, elegant studio they’d imagined, the space inside was full of garage-like grit. Cigarette butts littered the floor, tables and chairs were stacked haphazardly, and a red sofa was covered in dust. Obsolete machines were strewn about, and chairs that were placed randomly. There was even a mattress with springs and stuffing exposed. Exposed wiring ran along the walls.
Then Renlynoticed a brown velvet rug hanging on the wall—it looked entirely out of place, yet somehow fit perfectly.

That casual, messy aesthetic—even somewhat sloppy—gave off a strange sense of warmth and familiarity.

In this ever-changing 21st century, such an outdated, stubborn, and dilapidated space somehow burst with a raw purity and dedication to music.

“This…” Andy was at a loss for words. “This is even messier than I imagined.” He frowned slightly, feeling like he might’ve booked the wrong studio.

At the end of the hallway, a turn opened up the view. Platinum-certified records covered the walls from top to bottom, a stunning sight to behold. Even Andy, no expert in music, was awestruck.

Andy reached the recording studio door but realised Renlyhadn’t followed.
Turning around, he saw Renlywith his hands behind his back, gazing intently at the platinum records.

“Renly, come on—we’re on a schedule.”

“You go ahead. I’ll catch up in a bit.”

To Renly, history was fascinating. Everyone wanted to be remembered, to become someone special in the pages of time. But more often than not, history was made without anyone realising it. When Nirvana recorded Nevermind, they didn’t know the album would profoundly influence the music industry for the next two decades.

So, the wall before him didn’t just reflect Sound City’s former glory—it was a witness bearing the weight of history.

What Renlydidn’t know was that Guns N’ Roses had also recorded albums here—so had Nine Inch Nails.

“This place has certainly gathered its fair share of great artists, hasn’t it?”

A voice came from beside him. Renlyquickly turned his head—and saw a group of people standing right there.

He immediately realised the hallway was too narrow—he was blocking the way.
“Sorry,” Renlyquickly straightened up and stepped aside.
They nodded to him politely as they walked past.

However, the person who had first spoken to Renlystayed behind.

“Choosing to record here—that takes courage.”

Renly spread his hands with a half-smile. “Maybe I just want to soak up some greatness. You know, bless my album with a bit of luck.”

That teasing tone made the other man laugh heartily.
“Then I’ll cross my fingers for you.”
After laughing, he pointed toward the recording studio behind them.

“These days, most young artists prefer digital recording. With electronic synthesis and music software, you can do the whole thing on a laptop. Not many people still appreciate the essence of traditional recording. So—good luck.”

“If it answers your question…” Renlyshrugged, “I’m here to record folk music today.”

Compared to pop, electronic, or rap, folk doesn’t rely on electronic synthesis. Traditional recording methods are still the best way to capture its musical essence.

Renly’s light-hearted tone once again brought a smile to the other man’s face.

“Then you haveto try the Neve 8028,” he said. “It delivers the purest, most authentic melodies—something digital music just can’t replicate. I hope your voice is worthy of her.”

He didn’t hide his affection for the machine in the slightest.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll check out your music when it’s done. —Dave Grohl.”

Renly looked at the large, outstretched hand and politely shook it.
“RenlyHall.”

“Good luck with the session today.” Dave gave him a slight nod, then turned and strode away in long, confident steps.

Renly watched Dave’s retreating figure and pressed his lips together in a subtle smile—this was a good beginning.

Dave Grohl: drummer for Nirvana, founder of Foo Fighters, a living legend with a future spot already reserved in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Welcome to Sound City.

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