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Chapter 86 The opening posture of "Singer"

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    In his previous life, Han Jue also watched "Singer" season after season, and he saw something.

    He found that the biggest enemy of all singers is the audience's aesthetics.  The biggest challenge is to overcome aesthetic fatigue.

    Basically, whoever knows the moves and prepares more weapons will survive longer.

    This stage is cruel.  Singers who are eliminated usually get the comfort of "You are already great", but this sentence actually means "You are not the best."

    Han Jue is not too worried about Zhang Yiman. He is sure that Zhang Yiman will not miss the first round at least.

    Because Zhang Yiman can win the live singing competition simply by her timbre. Her innate conditions are so good. The three-dimensionality of her voice and the transparency of resonance will definitely arouse admiration and exclamation from the audience as soon as she opens her mouth.

    The audience is different every time, and every audience will be moved by Zhang Yiman when they hear her voice for the first time.  When voting, I could not forget Zhang Yiman¡¯s voice.

    ¡°But God will not favor only one person. Faced with those God-given voices that have passed the test of the market, Zhang Yiman cannot say that he will definitely be stable.  When the audience is voting, they are faced with several unforgettable voices, fame, and feelings. These factors will encourage the audience to vote for famous singers who are more emotionally "closer" to them.

    So song selection is very important to Zhang Yiman.

    When you ask Han Jue to sing, you can use the quality of her fresh works to give her extra points and offset the emotional points of her senior singers.

    Of course, the above are all Han Jue¡¯s thoughts.

    As for whether Zhang Yiman had the same intention and came to him to invite him to sing Han Jue shook his head and put aside this unrealistic idea.

    "Hey~ See what you mean, I still have to thank you?" Han Jue took a breath after looking at Zhang Yiman's set of words and convincing her, and looking like she admired herself to death.  Liangqi said in shock.

    "Hey, I don't want you to give me a discount, uncle, you just need to write me a super nice song." Zhang Yiman was immersed in his own intelligence, and very considerately asked Han Jue not to be too polite.

    Han Jue swayed.  Give up arguing about who wins and who loses.

    If the target of ridicule or irony is a person who lacks logic and emotional intelligence, then the person who speaks must be mentally prepared to talk to a bull, make useless efforts, or even be misinterpreted 180 degrees.

    So Han Jue calmed down and didn't want to pester him about whether he was sincerely grateful. He asked, "Does your manager know that you want to ask me for a song?"

    "Sister Qin knows." Zhang Yiman nodded.

    Then this is a formal invitation to sing.  It has to be tailor-made.  This tests the professionalism of a songwriter. After all, the songs written for oneself may only be sung by oneself. If the songs written for others become popular, then one¡¯s professional quality is truly excellent.  Famous singer-songwriters in previous lives have more or less composed lyrics or music for other singers.

    Zhang Yiman came to ask him to perform the music, which was a sign of her trust in Han Jue and her trust in Han Jue's creative ability.  Han Jue also planned to do Sha Niu's favor.

    Although Sha Niu seemed silly just now, she said she wanted to help Han Jue become popular in singing. Han Jue felt her sincere intention to help him.

    Zhang Yiman has been helping Han Jue in her own way.

    Han Jue began to analyze Zhang Yiman: "You have to sing your own song in a competition, so you have to prepare a more intense song. "Your Eyes" is not suitable."

    "Yeah!" Zhang Yiman looked at Han Jue nodding his head vigorously, his eyes bright.

    "What type of songs are you good at? Rock? Jazz? Pop? Folk? Psychedelic?"

    "I'm good at them all." Zhang Yiman thought for a while and said.

    "Which one do you like?"

    "I like them all." Zhang Yiman chuckled.

    Han Jue rolled his eyes.

    Okay, there¡¯s nothing left to talk about.

    Han Jue can¡¯t make a hodgepodge for her.

    ¡°I¡¯d better write it out first, and then you can see if you can sing it.¡± Han Jue said helplessly.

    "Can I still choose? Do you mean there are several songs? Oh, uncle, your songs are so good, what if I like them all?" Zhang Yiman seemed to have seen dozens of good songs placed in front of her.  She chooses, she said bitterly.

    Even though this was a compliment to Han Jue, Han Jue did not intend to make any unnecessary explanations.  I pondered and started thinking about which song to make.

    ¡°??

    Although China is filled with more emphasis on lyrics than music, and even though it is filled with a large number of homogeneous and routine works, there are still people who really make music.

    But his battlefield is not music.

    After finishing this job, he felt that he could watch a large number of excellent film and television works, and then be inspired to devote himself to text creation without being restrained, and satisfy his desire for expression.  It¡¯s the happiest thing to achieve a balance between input and output.

    That wonderful world is just ahead, waiting for him to take risks himself.

    ¡°Dingling bell~¡±

    Whose cell phone rang.

    ¡°Dingling bell~¡±

    The phone rang for a long time and no one picked it up. Everyone looked at Han Jue. Xia Yuan also raised his head and looked at Han Jue.

    "Uncle, your phone is ringing." Zhang Yiman reminded, bringing Han Jue back to reality from fantasy.

    "Oh, I know." Han Jue took out his cell phone pretending to be calm, as if he was deliberately not in a hurry to answer it.

    Everybody¡¯s eyes dispersed.

    ? Pick up the phone and take a look.

    The caller came from a stranger¡¯s number without any notes.

    Han Jue took his cell phone and walked outside the recording room. The phone was still ringing patiently.

    "Hello, hello." Han Jue said.

    After waiting for a few seconds, there was no response from the other party.

    Wrong call?  Or telecommunications fraud?

    Han Jue took it down and saw that it was indeed on a call, but there was no sound from the other party.

    Just when he was about to hang up the phone, a faintly familiar voice came from the phone that he had not heard a few times but felt extremely familiar:

    "Ahan. I am XiaoxiI have returned to China." (Remember the website address: www.hlnovel.com
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