On the Excel side, Clay seems to be staring at Jidé's ass. I mention this only because that's perfectly fine in the corporate world, and there's nothing wrong with pointing out how it's okay to point that out in the corporate world, because there's nothing wrong with it. Although to be fair, he's probably just making sure Jidé's monitor is okay, and the rest is just a cheap joke at Clay's expense, which he already asked for. Clay very excitedly begins to interview Jidé about his life and his influences and how they can fit the whole Jidé feeling and story into the song. It's very friendly and inclusive and I imagine puts the talent at ease. In fact, I know it, because we immediately get all personal with Jidé about how he was too fat as a child to find love, and was a middle child, which made him insane with desire to be taken seriously and paid attention to. Rebecca stares intensely, devouring his life essence with her eyeballs, but Clay finds a way to make this all about him: "You mean it's all about getting attention?"
Carolyn interviews that they're on the right track, that he has a story to tell, and the point of the task with an inflated high-concept background like this becomes making him relatable through the music alone: to corner the specialness of his story by making it available on the track. The challenge, though, is getting this through in the song, which for this task is all they've got to work with.
Clay really just lays it all on the table: "It keeps coming up that you're the middle child...the ugly duckling at first, and then you got cute enough and now you want people to pay attention to you." And as it turns out, that's the copy on the back of Clay's own autobiography: Former Fat Kid Makes His Way Without Any Damn Help From Anybody And With Constant Undeserved Slings And Arrows From Everyone In This World, Qualifying Him For Riches And Treats Beyond Your Wildest Imagining -- And He's Sexy Too!. Pretending we're still talking about Jidé, he continues: "So it's basically, well, what about me? Sing that like you're asking God, what about me?" I know I go on and on psychoanalyzing these people, but dude. Clay just outdid me, and he wasn't even trying. Jidé obliges, and I cringe a bit, but not too bad, because he's, you know, a singer. Clay joins in, singing his own personal blues, and I cringe a bit more, but still not too bad, because he's not, you know, Adam.