Tuesday, October 8, 2024
accept yourself on spotify and all that
“There are some artists you put on to party. There are some to reflect. Others are for nostalgia. The trainrider, hitchhiker, rubber tramp, Bills fan, dog lover and self proclaimed “folk rapper” just asks you ‘to be,’
Perhaps that’s because he, Omen, E*** Moore, emoore saylavee, has found something. Perhaps it’s because he wants to search next to you.
Accept Yourself’s music sounds like someone that neither wants to be forgotten nor acknowledged. When not drawing on your wall, the guitarist in an oversized T and Garbage Plates fitted creates a balanced calamity of shoegaze and dishes crashing to the ground in slow motion. His songs begin as fast as they end, eerily mirroring the sounds of a passing freight two miles away. The artist represents a distance between you and the rest of the world, a mechanical arrangement accompanied by an echo of loneliness. It shakes between the mist of success and failure. His music resembles the calming palpitations of being lost. It’s the feeling of realizing that you are nowhere. And then relaxing you are nowhere.
From the subtle beginnings of an acoustic street performer, Accept Yourself develops to a rhythmic disposition encompassing the hip hop influences that represent the rejection of social norms so clearly designed in the lyrical diction. Between themes of travel, loss, personal rumination, hometown longing, empty lofts, cops and flat tires, Accept Yourself makes music for those that yearn to meet the voices down the hall. The soft melancholic guitar harmonies amid jarring, yet, soothing strumming patterns finds the listener staring aimlessly away as they see themselves in the distance. These feelings are created by the wanders that have forged the sound…
His debut on Spotify, among other major platforms, has only begun in 2024, changing the realm of previous intimate listenership from small gatherings to, now, the world.”
-Michael Mahar [Rochester, NY]
Friday, June 7, 2024
san francisco poem
theres still a place
in the San francisco bay
for poets,
skateboarders, & miscreants
child actors grown up with
addictions & missing teeth;
the fog rolling in
with all its mystique
LANDS END
is where I sleep
wake up with a dream
and theres something endearing
about the harsh chinese business
man
thats weary of me
Nothing is
what it was
ghosts linger around
as rent goes up
I sit where the roads end
at least as I positioned them
In my head,
and a CHAOTIC CALMNESS
Descends
if I stayed here forever
I would be dead///
(enchante cafe - geary st - 5/13/24)
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