Shrink-Wrapping PYT
She stands before what resembles a surrealistic subway entrance, a glimmering white structure with one arch after the next beckoning her to step through.
Off to the side, the man who does the 'dos for stars like Jennifer Lopez and Jessica Simpson aims a floor fan at her hair. The breeze causes her tousled, light brown locks to flow gently past her shoulders, like in a scene from a Hollywood romance movie.
Dressed in a tight white shirt and slacks with matching white platform sneakers, she sways and grooves, casts a cool, confident gaze into the lens, and lip-synchs to her recorded voice booming through two banks of speakers.
Nearby, a record executive films her moves on a handheld digital camera, looking for tiny flaws to fine-tune. He smiles, clearly pleased with how this video production is unfolding. The director, fresh off a shoot with R&B superstar Toni Braxton, studies the singer intently amid of crowd of assistants.
She exudes the poise of a seasoned performer, the edgy glamor of a Cosmo cover girl, the sex appeal that will soon be shrink-wrapped and sold in the crowded pop music marketplace. In a moment, the take is over. She has nailed it like a pro, and the set erupts with huge applause.
One night later, she will be showered with an ovation again, 3,000 miles away in Tampa.
Lauren Mayhew will be graduating from eighth grade.
Ten months after hitting the scene out of the blue, the fledgling pop group PYT -- "Pretty Young Things" -- stands before an arsenal of lights in a warehouse-sized building, Studio 26. It is the second and final day of filming their first video, PYT (Down With Me).
An air of excitement swirls inside. A mobile production staff talks on phones and types on laptops. Label honchos scrutinize the latest shot on a TV monitor. A crane lifts a technician to adjust spotlights over four elaborate sets -- the subway entrance, a runway long enough for PYT and 15 dancers, the box-like structure for a "flying" sequence, and a futuristic "granite" stage.
The girls of PYT -- Lauren Mayhew, Lydia Bell, Ashley Niven and Tracy Williams -- are awestruck. Barbra, Bette and Britney have crooned before the cameras here. TV hotshot David E. Kelley films Ally McBeal and The Practice on the lot. Even the "Yo quiero Taco Bell" chihuahua has carved its commercial niche here.
"When I got to the studio, I was like, "Wow, this is amazing, I can't believe we've gotten this far,' " says Tracy. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Just a year and a half ago, we were performing in a local dance troupe. Now look where we are. We're so lucky to be here."
Now PYT is taking its first shot at MTV.
Making a first video (the budget for this one is a cool half-million) is a pivotal event for any new pop act. No matter what has led up to this moment -- the first record contract, the tours, the hype -- it still comes down to one thing: getting a video on the Music Television network.
MTV remains the ultimate teen pop starmaking machine, the cultural arbiter of youth style and tastes. If a video passes muster with MTV powers -- and then connects with young viewers on the mega-popular Total Request Live show -- a new act can be on its way. If, however, MTV powers decline to add a new video, or it fails to generate much buzz, newcomers can drop from sight in a drumbeat.
Here, there are the endless details to juggle: hair that needs styling and restyling, make-up sessions, dance steps to polish, directions to absorb, wardrobe changes, publicity shots snapped between scenes, and the shout of "action" when the eighth-graders swing into video-star mode.
This is where it all begins, where a young act stakes its claim on the musical phenomenon of today's teen pop. It is also where the music establishment transforms four kids into a product. Lauren, Lydia, Ashley and Tracy are entering the grown-up world, come what may.
Barely over a year ago, the longtime pals from a Tampa youth entertainment troupe, who had grown up doing local theater, singing and performing, formed a group to compete in a Teen magazine singing contest.
The demo they cut for the contest led instead to a deal from Sony Music's Epic label. Then, on their summer vacation, they secured the services of manager Johnny Wright, arguably the top starmaker around, and spent two months opening for superstar acts 'N Sync and Spears. They attracted armies of fans and signed autographs for hours after their shows. They even had a playful supporting role in Candy, a video by teen star Mandy Moore. It was all part of an amazing thrill ride for PYT chronicled last August in the Times.
PYT was rolling with momentum, and it looked as if radio exposure, a video and an album would fall right into place. Instead, by the beginning of the school year, the group seemed to have disappeared from the spotlight. While their new fans wondered where the girls had gone, they were going with a new master plan.
After the '99 tour, they returned to school in Tampa, entering eighth grade: Lauren to Berkeley Prep, Tracy to St. Mary's Episcopal, Ashley and Lydia to public school at Orange Grove Middle. They also went back into the recording studio, spending countless weekends and after school hours outside Orlando cutting new material.
Executives at Epic had decided to re-assess and revamp the act's sound and style. In a word: urbanize. The idea was to infuse PYT's music with an R&B/hip-hop feel, which groups like 'N Sync and the Backstreet Boys have used with great success. This new blueprint would keep PYT in step with fast-changing teen pop trends and give more of an edge to the girls' previously sweeter teen pop sound.
"Last July we just had so many opportunities to tour that we found ourselves rushing to get the album done, and just to catch up with all the touring," says David McPherson, the Epic executive who signed the group. "After the tours, we just took a step back and said, "You know what, what really counts is getting the music right first.' We were blessed with these tours, but let's focus on the music."
The hip-hop sound of the group's first single comes courtesy of 24 year-old twin sisters Channette and Channoah Higgens. The twins, who make up the urban act Anthem, hail from South Central Los Angeles and were hired by Epic last fall to write new, urban-tinged songs for PYT. The Higgenses have placed songs with Mary J. Blige, Will Smith and Destiny's Child, but are looking for their first hit.
During their two-week visit with PYT near Orlando, they hit it off well with the girls and were struck by their strong friendship and loyalty.
They heard a story about a girl who razzed some of the members about being in PYT, and the feeling was "just 'cause we're in PYT doesn't mean you have to be mad at us," says Channette. "So we decided to do a song geared around the PYT name, with a message that "We're strong as a unit.' "
The result is PYT (Down With Me). "The song is more like a "what if' thing, like how we would watch out for each other if someone ever came along to mess with what we have," Lauren says.
The song fell together in one night, helped by a catchy music track. Tough street talk indeed for four white, suburban girls. But it sure plays well on radio.
A teen pop group's look is almost as important as its sound, and when it comes to PYT's look, little has been left to chance.
"We've found, along with the label, a look that just comes from the girls' style. It's based on girl power: sporty, athletic, with a touch of glamor in it," says the girls' new co-manager, Polsia Ryder. She and her sister, Nina Bueti, signed on last fall because Wright was swamped guiding the careers of 'N Sync and Spears, among others.
The sisters, New York-based music-industry veterans who call themselves Jelly Baby Group, are now in charge of PYT's daily affairs. At the video shoot, Tracy wears a white tank top and athletic slacks for one scene, a dark leather jacket and jeans for another. Ashley has on a baggy white shirt over her tank top; Lydia wears white pedal pushers and a white tube top; Lauren switches into a black sleeveless mock turtleneck. Exposed belly buttons appear often -- the kind of teen fashion statement made from MTV to the local mall.
"I really like our look; it's even more modern than last summer," says Tracy.
With a warm, motherly approach, Ryder and Bueti have developed a strong chemistry with PYT. Ryder recounts a moment earlier in the day when Lauren called to her mother on the set.
"She said, "Mommy,' and we were all just struck then that they really are still little girls," she says. "It's very important that we preserve that. They will remain grounded."
Indeed, the girls come across as the same bubbly teens they were last summer, kids who love to talk on the phone for hours and hit the mall and movies with pals.
Still, as their name suggests, the girls are pretty, and they are young. They are also in a business that, when it comes to the marketing of female performers, is not shy about putting the emphasis on "things."
By and large, today's boy groups today are marketed as wholesome heart-throbs, less sexually blatant and less threatening to the preteen and early-teen girls who buy CDs and attend shows.
Many female groups and solo acts, on the other hand, appeal not just to girls who like the sound and like "the look." They are marketed toward hormonally charged teen boys and young men who like the sound and like to look.
Thus you have Christina Aguilera, who once sang the gentle theme ballad for Disney's Mulan, posing on the cover of Rolling Stone, cutoffs unbuttoned to reveal her bikini bottom, tongue rolled out suggestively.
And you have Britney Spears clad skimpily with a Lolita look a few years ago in the same magazine, and dressed to kill in skintight red jumpsuit in her current video. Oops, she did it again.
There is, therefore, a persistent question of how much sensuality to convey.
"To be honest, we don't mind if people look at them and find them sexy, as long as there's not too much skin and they're not doing anything disgusting," says Ryder. "Because we understand that to be an entertainer you have to be glamorous, and you have to be as beautiful as you can be.
"But that doesn't mean in my view -- or the view of the girls and their parents -- that they be all hanging out with skin showing, like some of these pop stars today. They're too young, and we just don't want to do that."
As always, two PYT parents are part of the entourage, as they were on the bus tour last summer. On a soft couch near the subway set, June Williams and Sharon Mayhew excitedly film and play back the proceedings on a little camcorder to show family and friends back home. They like the managers' personal touch with their daughters and say they're comfortable with the image that has been created for the girls.
On an easel in the studio, a large storyboard of the video provides another take on the PYT image. The girls are drawn in the frames like comic book super-heroes, pillars of strength and unity in the teen universe.
For one scene, the notes read, "Excitement, energy, captured with extreme close-ups, fast, edgy, and funky. Flashy camera angles." For another, there are small boxes drawn around the body parts that might be featured in quick cuts: a mouth, a wrist, an eye, a bustline. 'It's like, bam'
"It's interesting, because most of the time, when you work with a group, they're so green,' says Sarno, the executive producer. "It's a deer-caught-in-the-headlights sort of thing. But these girls have been on major tours, and they've been performing since they were really young. So it's cool to see the difference. They are very savvy. They know what they're doing.
Now hairdresser Kent Hayes primps Lauren's curls. Director Bille Woodruff, a sought-after talent in the video world, signals action, and two assistants dressed in black get right to work. They control a camera on a cart that rolls on floor rails. It continually zooms in on Lauren, then glides back.
All the while, PYT (Down With Me) plays at slow speed, and Lauren slips into slow-mo gear as she lip-synchs and dances along -- using new hip-hop moves taught to PYT by choreographers for pop/urban star Missy Elliott. The set is bathed in a blue hue for Lauren's segment (each girl gets her own color).
On a nearby monitor, the film is speeded back up to normal, creating a cool, choppy effect in Lauren's movements. The technique was popularized in urban/hip-hop videos, and Woodruff uses it here to create more of that edginess the PYT camp is after.
The video shoot ended May 31, and the meticulous editing process began soon after, with finished product set to get final approval from the band, management and label. The video will be sent to MTV after the single has had time to hit the radio charts.
Ultimately, MTV's music department will review it at one of its weekly meetings, looking at several factors: Is it a great video? Is the song connecting? Is it sung by somebody who's going to be a great new act? Occasionally, MTV will add a video early if it considers it "can't miss." The label will also put the heat on MTV to add a video once a song is charting well in one or two radio formats.
McPherson, the label exec, knows there are never any guarantees but says PYT can be "huge." Lauren, catching her breath between scenes, smiles at the thought.
"We were really anxious to get the video out there," says Lauren. "But at the same time, we wanted to take our time, so that when it does finally come out, it's like bam -- it'll be just right."
For now, ninth grade is a world away. The director is ready to roll. The camera has PYT in its sights.


