Me (12 page)

But I was so happy to hear that they had confirmed me that I didn’t really care about anything else. What mattered most to me was to perform, and I knew I would find a way to turn it into something spectacular.

And that’s exactly what we did. At the last minute it occurred to me to assemble some twenty musicians and dress them all in white shirts and black pants, so that the audience could see them from far away. We all came out onto the soccer field, all of them playing their instruments, and I grabbed the microphone and yelled out to the crowd: “Come on, let’s make some noise!”

When we got to the center of the field all nervousness disappeared and the magic of the event took over me. It was four minutes of pure euphoria. The stadium was filled with people from all over the world on their feet dancing to the music. Hearing the crowds clapping and screaming, I felt a massive surge of joy and strength. That performance, for me, was a singular experience . . . a gift sent to me by life. Another moment I will never forget. Absolutely everything was in place, and the crowd’s adrenaline made me understand the reason for all my efforts and sacrifices. We had worked like savages to get to this moment, and the victory was now at our fingertips. I broke my knuckles busting down walls so I could get into Menudo, become a solo artist, and gain the support of Latin American, Asian, and European audiences. And the applause and screams on that night at the World Cup were the beautiful acknowledgment of all that arduous work.

But there was no time to rest on my laurels. All of the acknowledgment I received in France was extraordinary, but we had to keep moving forward. We just couldn’t stop and accept the glory as a matter of fact. When life gives you an opportunity, you have to give it your all and then some. You must fight and struggle to forge your own path. Which is exactly what I continued to do.

AFTER CONQUERING ASIA, Europe, and Latin America, I set my sights on the United States and on my so-called crossover—my transition to the English-language marketplace. And to keep the momentum that we had going, we decided that while I did the promotion for
Vuelve
with a forty-four-concert tour, I would also return to the studio to work on my first English-language album. This time I didn’t care what I had to do; my goal was to achieve everything I set out for myself. That meant I had to give it my all, and that’s how it would have to be. The months when I promoted
Vuelve
while simultaneously recording in the studio were incredibly intense. Granted, I had already done something like this when I recorded
Ricky Martin
while simultaneously shooting
Alcanzar una estrella
, and when I recorded
Vuelve
as I promoted
A medio vivir
. . . but this time the record I was making demanded a lot more from me. With the success of
“La Copa de la Vida”
there were many more requests for interviews and autographs, and I always tried to have a friendly, positive, and energetic attitude about it. I’d agree right away. If they needed me for a magazine photo shoot, I’d eagerly say yes. If they wanted me to sign a giant pile of CDs, “Of course!” I would eagerly respond. If they would request interviews, it was always, without a doubt, a yes, yes, yes, but it was exhausting.

I said yes to everything because I wanted the entire world—and more than anything, the United States—to notice me. That crossover to the American market meant so much to me that I was willing to do anything at all to make it happen. But despite all the enthusiasm with which I pursued my new goal, I could already see the dangers that lurked behind it. With the success of “María” and
“La Copa de la Vida,”
I had already seen a glimmer of what fame as a solo artist was really like, and I didn’t like it one bit. I remember I even mentioned this in an interview I did around that time for
El Nuevo Herald
: “Every day that passes,” I said, “I am more and more fearful of fame.” It was ironic, I explained; the more I knew it, the more it scared me. And the more it scared me, the more appealing it was to me.

In the depths of my soul I knew I needed to take some distance to rest and think about everything that was happening to me, but somehow it never seemed to be the right time. In fact, at one point I wanted to take a sabbatical. I had it all organized; the plan was to disconnect for a little while and go traveling, but just at that exact moment, while we were in Singapore on one of the tour stops, my agent called to let me know that
Vuelve
had been nominated for a Grammy Award. And that wasn’t all: The organizers wanted me to perform live on the night of the awards ceremony. So despite the rest and relaxation I may have needed, how could I possibly say no? It was out of the question. An invitation to perform on the Grammy Awards show is an extraordinary honor, which many artists never receive in their entire career, and I simply could not say, “So sorry, gentlemen. Thanks for thinking of me, but I’m about to go on a little vacation.” It might have been the right thing for me to do from a personal and emotional point of view, but it certainly would have been career suicide. There were so many people who had placed their bets on me—including myself—so many people who had worked nonstop for many years to turn my dreams into reality, that I couldn’t say no.

If the World Cup had been my platform to take on the rest of the world, the Grammy Awards would be my entry into the English-language market of the United States. At the time, I didn’t care so much that the show was going to be broadcast to millions of viewers in 187 countries; what mattered to me was that I would be able to share my music with the people of the United States who had never even heard my name. Just like the World Cup, this was my moment to shine, and I would only have a few minutes to make an impact: My performance had to be nothing short of electrifying.

I have always thought that it’s totally normal to be a bit nervous before a show. In fact, I even think it’s healthy, because if I weren’t nervous it would mean that what I am about to do has ceased to be challenging. And how interesting can life really be when we are not challenging ourselves and jumping out of our comfort zones? But in the case of the Grammy Awards, as the night of February 24, 1999, got closer, I realized I was feeling worried, stressed, and had a sense of panic. I doubted whether I would be able to impress the audience, if they would like my music . . . until I finally just had to put an end to all of these mixed feelings, and say to myself, “Hold on! You’ve been at this for fifteen years. So just do your thing—and do it well!” I allowed myself to remember that, which is how I found the strength I needed to perform with my usual confidence. The show turned out well. Great, actually. I’ve been told that what took place that night had never occurred before in the history of the Grammy Awards. I’d decided to sing a slightly modified version of
“La Copa de la Vida,”
to which I had added a few new lines in English. And this time—unlike at the World Cup—we had a gorgeous stage and set with all the critical bells and whistles: musicians, dancers, lights, and special effects. It was a spectacular show in every possible way, and I gave it all my energy, charisma, and all of the emotion I had to give . . . and then some! We had the musicians walk toward the stage through the aisles of the auditorium, which immediately connected the audience with the music, and they started to applaud and dance at their seats. When we were playing the last note, that crowd—which was made up of professional musicians, composers, singers, artists, and executives—gave me a standing ovation and cheered for me as I had never, ever seen before. I was completely blown away by their intensity—it was like receiving a blessing from an audience that I respect immensely. And it was another moment I will remember for the rest of my life.

When the applause finally simmered down, the cameras cut to Rosie O’Donnell—the host of the show—who seemed stunned. She was quiet for a moment, and then, under her breath, she said: “Who was
that
cutie patootie?”

Just a few moments later I returned to the stage to accept my first ever Grammy Award for Best Latin Pop Music Album, for
Vuelve
. The first thing I did was laugh, probably because I too was still a bit stunned, and then I said, “I got a Grammy!” Once again, the audience reacted extremely positively, and I was stuck somewhere between elation and shock. They were probably wondering, “Who is this guy?” It was the first time most of the audience members had ever seen me, and now I was onstage receiving the record industry’s most prestigious award!

Even though awards are not everything, being able to stand before my peers and the world with the Grammy in my hands and to have the opportunity to thank everyone involved with the album for their hard work and dedication was very exciting. So many people put their talent, time, and effort into the making of an album that publicly thanking them when receiving an award is always a beautiful way of showing them the gratitude they rightfully deserve.

And if that wasn’t enough for the night, after the show, while I answered questions for the press backstage, Madonna came and stood behind me. She covered my eyes with her hands and gave me a kiss. “I’m just here to congratulate you,” she said. And then she disappeared as quickly as she appeared. Wow! Madonna! That, I could never have imagined.

But once again, there was no time to take it all in, or rest, or even celebrate. Instead of basking in the glory of my “Grammy moment,” that night I jumped on a plane to Italy because I had a previous commitment—a perfect example of how chaotic my life was at that time.

I HAD WORKED for fifteen years to earn those four minutes on the Grammy stage, which had allowed me to accomplish my goal—to shake up the American music world and open the minds of English speakers to the rhythms of Latin music. Around that time, the
New York Times
stated that I had “lit the fire of pop music” and that my performance at the Grammys had established me as the “symbol of the new status Latin culture holds in mainstream America.” You see, during this time, the Latino community of the United States was growing at an impressive rate, and my musical success to a certain degree was reflecting—and feeding off of—that very change. Latin culture was beginning to seduce the United States and modify the musical preferences of its inhabitants.

Just a couple of months after the Grammy Awards ceremony, I released my first album in English, entitled
Ricky Martin
, just like my first album as a solo artist. It debuted at number one, and sold over 660,000 copies in the United States alone during its first week out, breaking a record. Not only was it the bestselling album that week, but it had one of the best ever sales in just one week of the whole year. I never expected the album to be so huge; even though I had been getting ready for this moment my entire life, when it finally arrived, it took me by surprise. From a professional point of view, I was completely ready to go that far and even farther, but on a personal level it shook me at my very core. It was all so much and so fast that I didn’t know where to look. Life came at me like an avalanche.

First it was the Grammy Awards, with the spectacular show and my first Grammy. Then, the release of my first album in English, and then almost immediately the single “Livin’ La Vida Loca” debuted as number one on the charts in twenty countries. That year, the song hit number one on
Billboard
magazine’s list of national sales, number one on the national broadcasting charts, number one on the Latin American broadcasting charts, number one on the Latin sales charts, and so on. Later, the promotional tour kicked off with serious impact: It was a whirlwind of autographing CDs, interviews with the press, photo shoots . . . an explosion! And finally, it was time to begin the concert tour. The response was unbelievable. The tickets for twenty-five shows in the United States went on sale on the same day and they all sold out within just eight minutes, literally as fast as the ticketing systems allowed. As a result, we had to add additional shows in many of the cities, and the tour was not only extended in the United States, but turned out to be massive globally as well. About 4 million people came to see me live on that tour, and in total the album sold close to 17 million copies worldwide.

And the avalanche continued. It didn’t matter if I was tired or if I was hungry or if I simply wanted to take a nap. Whenever I said, “I need a rest,” my manager would come back with, “Just one more little thing. One more, that’s it.” It’s not that he was a bad person, but the problem was that there was always some other little thing to do! And since every little thing we did would yield such tremendous results, I always wanted to do more. For example, one day they’d come to me and say, “Ricky, Pavarotti called. He wants to do a duet with you.” Who could turn down the honor of a duet with Pavarotti? So the answer was yes. It was such an honor! I always accepted. Then shortly thereafter I’d get another call saying, “Ricky, Giorgio Armani called—he wants to have dinner with you.” Mr. Armani—of course I simply couldn’t say no. I would always say, “All right, I’ll do it this time, but please don’t bring me any more offers.” My manager would promise never to do it again, but later he would come back and say, “Ricky, I am so sorry. I know I told you I wouldn’t bring you anything else, but the thing is that Sting called and he wants you to perform at this benefit concert he’s holding....” What could I possibly do? Who in their right mind could refuse these types of invitations? In the midst of all that madness, “Livin’ La Vida Loca” turned out to be everything that Sony Music had hoped for and more. At that time, the company was having financial troubles and they needed more than a good hit—they needed a home run. With the promotional push that they gave “Livin’ La Vida Loca,” they expected something explosive, and the result was more on the lines of nuclear. Seeing their salvation within arm’s reach, they wanted to go as far as possible, so they created an aggressive and extensive global promotion campaign. The only problem was that the one person who would ultimately have to bring it to fruition would be me. And although it was exhausting, I can honestly say I never complained. I gave myself entirely to the task and lived the whole thing like a dream.