You’re Too Fast For Me …

I don’t remember where I was the night before. But I got home drunk, and my morning hangover was beyond what I was used to. Living in my mom’s house, I knew the smell of alcohol was seeping through the cracks underneath my bedroom door. The moment I stepped foot outside this room, I knew was in for it. So there I was, staring at the ceiling, waiting for sobriety to find me. My phone buzzes and an incoming message lights the screen. It’s management, and they are not happy with me. The list of grievances brought to me by the label’s roster of artists had made their way to management, and even worse, it happened while I was under the influence. I offered solutions to problems they didn’t know they had, and in one foul swoop, a message came in that would change the trajectory of my life: “you’re too fast for me”. Just like that, I was off the roster of artists, I was fired from the team, and my connection to “the industry” had been severed. The VIP champagne had eluded me, and all my dreams came crashing down. I receive a text from Maury, who was already in the know about the situation at hand. “What the fuck happened, bro?”. I fucked up. Who was I to tell these people how to run their business? This team had the knowledge and resources to “break” an artist, and regardless of my definition of success, I knew I was wrong; as I would come to be many times throughout my career. I didn’t know it then, but this lesson would teach me something very valuable that I would come to use later in life. Lost in thought, and in complete disbelief, I braced myself for the next set of consequences waiting for me right outside my bedroom.