Behind the Music
“…The Orio Story”
The music industry is tough. It is no longer about the music. It has become a vessel for greedy record executives, producers, managers, and agents to reap the soils of their artist. It has become more about trying to sell clothes and FloMax than talent in creating music. For the artist it gives them a taste of instant celebrity, and for a little while they are on top of the world, hotter than Justin Timberlake. However, many of these careers fade away and the studio executives just throw them to the curb and wait for the next Britney Spears to walk through their doors. Our white rapper hero, Orio, experienced this exploitation first hand.
Growing up in Kansas, a young Douglas Oglethorpe fell in love with the music of Hip-Hop. Listening to such artists as Notorious B.I.G, Too Short, and even a little Jethro Tull, Doug had found his calling. Though not the brightest kid in the heartland, (his father, a political science professor, recalls at least 12 separate incidents where Doug should have died) young Douglas did show some skill in the art of rhyming and verse. Doug changed his name to Orio and honed his skills at churches, school dances, auctions; basically any place that would let him rap. In middle school, he answered a flier about starting a rap duo with an equally skilled MC who went by the name of Green Tea.
Tea (as Orio calls him) came from a traditional Korean family, but never really fit in. As a young lad, he discovered the music of the Wu-Tang clan. The Wu spoke to Green Tea, and he knew he was destined to be the next great Asian rapper. Green Tea become all about the music, but being one of five Asians at his middle school, it was hard to start the next great Asian rap group. In fact, rap music took a back seat to country, rock, and country rock. It was hard to find another rapper, until Orio answered a flier that would change both their lives forever.
For years, all Orio and Green Tea did was concentrate on their blossoming rap careers. Even a few set backs, i.e. getting booted of the stage of their High School Prom for cursing too much, didn’t getting in their way of musical and financial success. One afternoon, rapping at a local farmers’ market. They caught the ear of Olivier, an esteemed manager who was experienced in selling black culture in a white package (he had previously tried to sell David Hasselhoff singing slave anthems). Olivier knew he had a money making machine on his hands. He signed Orio, Green Tea, and the rest of Orio’s entourage, which he aptly dubbed “The Children of the Cornbread.” The cornbread was made up of Jamaal “Maglight” Thompson, the lost member of NWA, who claims that they stole “Fuck the Police” from his “Fuck the Fireman” single and Tiny Tommy “CSI” Miami” Jones-Drew, a former bouncer/ bodyguard, who has lived through many white-bread, hippie concerts. Then there is Tim; the roadie only a stalker could envy. Orio was on his way to superstardom and one single would take him there.
After a successful mixtape and ep, Orio released the smash hit “Twist it Off (Uh-Oh its Orio). The single quickly went to number one on the billboard charts, and even outsold Eminem. Orio was on the fast track to hip-hop stardom. He was quickly signed by a top record company, a top agent, and even was set to star in an alien invasion movie. Also, a documentary was set in place to follow Orio on his America World Tour and eventual debut album release. Orio was on top very quickly, but in this fickle music world, he would fall down twice as fast.
The documentary, titled “Something, Something…The Orio Story,” was supposed to show people a side of the rapper that nobody knew. Made by a cantankerous director and film crew (who, as they claim, where only collecting a paycheck), the film showed the public what happens to people who get too much fame too quickly. Orio starts off the documentary by puking all over the set of MTV’s TRL and its many tweeny bopping fans. This would be the best thing to happen to Orio during the filming of the movie. From claiming that a chicken can talk to him to trying to figure out the laws of Inertia, “Something, Something” shows one disastrous concert after another. In one concert, Orio trying to be the showman that he is, accidentally “rains” thousands of silver dollars on the audience, injuring many and killing a few. At a concert at The Neverland Ranch, Orio, high on mushrooms, bombards the primarily family friendly audience with condoms and cigarettes. The film also tries to show Orio’s home life. It shows his massive mansion in the middle of the ghetto. A place where black orphaned children are dressed up like Oompa Loompas and work as slaves to Orio, a place where dead penguin corpses fill a backyard. The documentary shows us how quickly Orio sells out and losses everything he worked for. He even lost Green Tea, who left Orio when he become disgusted that Orio stopped being about the music. The film also shows us the true colors of agents and record executives. They just want to sell the product as quick as they can because when Orio’s fifteen minutes are up, he is of no use to them. The film ends with Orio going back to his religious roots and having his own Christian TV show.
If the rise and fall of Orio has taught us anything, it is that we as Americans can be sold anything, even if it is a no talent hack who humps a cooked chicken in his parent’s home. It has also shown us that the music industry has become commercialism over artistry, and that record executives are just looking for a quick single that will make them a few thousand dollars. Orio may be a complete imbecile, but he had some talent, which was used to sell potable AIDS tests.
