Once upon a time (2014)…
The great kings of the music industry were worried. The harvest season had come, yet no one in all the lands had gathered enough music to make a platinum record. You see, international debts at the time were paid using platinum–in high demand in the Orient–while domestic debts were paid in gold specie, and there was this whole Gresham’s law deal… The peasants were actually completely fine with it, but the kings were sore afraid. Forbes, the Treasurer of the Exchequer sent out a missive in a tizzy: “Lo! We have nary an album capable of generating platinum, and the year draws to a close!”
“Without platinum, the people will lose faith in our economy, and everything will go to shit! The shift in consumer trends must necessarily be met with unflinching conservatism and a refusal to try appeasing the consumers, not t’other way ’round!” Explained one king, met with unanimous nods of agreement.
“The situation is grave indeed. Should we turn to God in our darkest hour?”
“Christian music? Did you fall off a horse and hit your head? Even if that were a viable source of riches–which I mean, come on–have you met that consumer demo? Fuck that!”
“We shall call the great enchanter. He has never failed us before!”
More nods of agreement. And so the kings dispatched their emissaries to the cold North Lands to seek an audience with the great wizard named Max Martin. He had 20 years in the enchanting industry. He studied under the sorcerer Denniz PoP (sic), starting his studies making magic for the guild Ace of Base. PoP died young, unfortunately, but Martin was a prodigious pupil, and took his talents and magic to many other guilds. The Backstreet Boys, N’Sync, Britney Spears, Céline Dion, Kelley Clarkson, Pink!, Avril Lavigne, Katy Perry, Christina Aguilera, and others. Over two decades his magic produced more number one singles than anyone save the Beatles composers John Lennon and Paul McCartney. In top-10, he was without peer by a substantial margin. As a producer, he was second only to the illustrious mage George Martin (no relation).
The emissaries found him after a trying journey. Bowing in suppliance before him, they entreated, “Oh, great wizard, we beseech thee! The great kings are desperate, and we need your power! Grant to us, o wise one, your magic, so that the kings may get their platinum album.”
“What are your masters offering me in return, humble messenger?”
“Literal dump-trucks filled to the brim with cash. Like a whole fucking fleet of them.”
Martin closed his eyes in meditation. A profound silence followed. “Okay, sure. Sounds good.”
And so they brought the wizard back to the palace. “What do you need, o wizard, to conjure us a platinum album?” Inquired the kings.
“Bring me the fairest maiden in all the land. And also a saxophone.”
The king of Big Machine Records, LLC. had just the girl in mind. “May I present to you Princess Taylor Swift.”
“Yes, she will do nicely. The song my faithful squire Shellback and worked on with her on her last album was her first number one.”
“Oh yeah. So then you can help us?”
“Oh, for sure. Once I enchant this saxophone with the spirit of Raphael Ravesncroft, we’ll be good to go.”
And so Martin and his faithful squire and the fair Princess and the enchanted saxophone colluded to make a hit single to spearhead the album launch. The album was a success, and the kings had their platinum record before the end of the year.
“Huzzah! We are safe once more. We have obviously weathered the storm, and this is, to reiterate, in no way an indication of shifting consumer demands that we really should look into better accommodating. We can continue with our same business model without modification for years to come!”
And they all lived happily ever after. The end.