Stairway to Heaven

 

To the StarChasers who've been here from the jump and to the newer StarChasers... I must let you know that God is real, and the correct thing to do is establish a relationship with Him. Now. I know God as a Her, but that was God's way of ministering to me. Like, trying to appeal to me in the form that he knows would get my attention. But God, as a man, is one of the mightiest public figures to ever be seen or heard.

He has apostles, prophets, allies, maidens, virgins, warriors, soldiers, kings... all in this lifetime (and about 2 prior). He would love to have me be a part of his squadron, and in some contexts, I already am. Yet, in this corner, wearing red, black and gold trunks, is the concept of me being a Devil. I often claim being Satan (with the battery of Eminem in my back), and I often claim being born again (with the eye of Dr. Dre being God). The conflict makes me hesitate to create, because... honestly, I feel bad leading you into darkness and not sharing The Joy of The Holy Spirit. 

Maybe that's how I'll reward myself. I'ma send y'all niggas to God and have him tell y'all about y'allselves. Because to me, you're all beautiful. No need to pause, no need to speculate. I like to think that it's your collective knowledge of ME that makes a StarChaser some kinda sexy. If I'm wrong, blame Beyonce for making me believe I'm some kinda ancient sexy that there's a jihad over.

I belong to me, until further notice.

Expect some new music, soon.

~Jr.!~

Brothers and Sisters of The Stars

I finally know how to describe the feeling of having you guys as StarChasers. It’s not a word. It’s a blog entry.

A StarChaser is one who astral projects (or “travels”) through my music or the music of others, to meet ME. At the time, if you were to StarChase, you would likely see me having sex with my girlfriend (*drKiwi*). All I was doing was interviews, music, blogs and her. Your mission was to chase away the business people who wanted to separate me from her and replace her with a woman they can control. That would disrupt the natural order of love. Such, being tampered with through me being Sonic and being MADLY in love with her as Amy.

When me and Miss *drKiwi* broke up, everything was in jeopardy. I questioned love, loyalty… and though people were enjoying the music, I questioned whether I had StarChasers. I felt wrong for using fans as bouncers at Club Fuck Simone Porter. But I knew that it was just the x-rated content that would generate interest in my reality as a real, everyday thing. With the evil of my brilliance radiating in my heartbreak, I pushed on.

Mind you, this was around “It’s Charles Hamilton” (#TheHoneymoonsOver). We had a waaaaay to gooooo.

Around 2010, I digitally met Chris Rivera (among other nominal StarChasers). He would post pictures of my posters on his wall. Host several CH-content blogs. Show up during every livestream. Also in 2010, my mental health first started showing signs of decline. Things were going on around me that caused me to implode. Technically, in front of yall. As I listen back to my 2010 music, the quality is IMMENSE… just more now than then.

Look, Ima fast track it. I never saw yall as #numbers or as a #fanbase. I just made music FROM The Spirit of music, as lived by my generation. I try to take it further and backward, avoiding persecution and ignoring ignorance. I just wanna impress my big/lil bros/sisses. I wanted to be The Musical Ed Grimley (look him up). With longevity, of course.

StarChasers, new and old, you guys ARE my brothers and sisters. I’m sensitive about you, as I fought to be able to share my story of how I survived and how I’m surviving. Both in a business sense and in a creative pretense.

Batteries not included.

Thanks for having me, Chris Rivera. I hope I was and am a beacon of light, and that I’ll be out this way again soon. What am I saying?! Vacation (w you) just started!

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Chris Rivera, StarChaser Jas and I went to Eminem's Mom's Spaghetti in Detroit!

#CH

The drink kicks in

 

I wanted yall to FEEL ME, for as many times as I showed you I FEEL YOU. I don’t want any confusion as to who I am. I am inspired by many. Only I motivate me. If you should do so, you are properly credited. I can only think of a few who got me outside as #theweirdo.

J Dilla taught me how to express myself musically, OUTSIDE of the music itself. I just described it, but there’s more to it than words can describe. I use words and letters as chords and solo notes in the scale of conversation. J Dilla’s existence provides me the confidence needed to go in the booth with nothing prewritten and just speak my mind rhythmically. For such, you would have to listen to his music with me in mind. From there, you are allowed to infer and personify yourself there. Just know that you are eroding my soul with every CH you don’t acknowledge.

Hi-Tek showed me the beauty of chopping. Halo taught me the beauty of frequency bending. Where Tek makes beats for people to spaz on, Halo makes INSTRUMENTALS. Doubt me? Try to spit to “Beta Future”. Sheeit, end up on a journey! Also, Halo inspired The Contextual Title Theory. The context of a CH song is not determined by the “key” words in the hook. In fact, the title is the draw to the song. Imagine Hi-Tek level heat with an H2-level context…

Imagine if Halo was Hi-Tek.

I’m halfway getting my hair braided, half getting a blow out. Once my hair is unlocked, I can decide what I want to do.

Blogger isn’t allowing me to post pics for whatever reason. So ima end it like this: love is love, even in warfare. I love you, no matter what you say or do.

Does that make me a fool?

 

~Jr.~

Beach chair steaming

Unbeknownst to you and… really anyone, I am currently on vacation! I’m saving the details of said trip/who I’m with for a more extensive, expansive entry. Which, depending on how I feel in the midst of writing this one, could be this one.

I just wanted to check in.

I also want to say that StarChasers, I have been really caught up in my world (Harlem, Cleveland, The Illuminati, Cali, FDA). To the point where it is undeniably real, the notion that I’ve lost touch with my listeners. I called myself bringing yall a fresh, Gothic perspective to what is considered a mainstream, Ghetto lifestyle. I was also responding to ignorance being perpetuated by and about me/my music.

For that, I’m sorry. I ostracized you. I gave you what *I* thought you needed, versus what you wanted. Now, with that in the eggshell, do I/can I continue? I don’t feel the same things the same way anymore. The process of finding a sample is more complex. Though I am back on FL, I’m dooinit different. I guess what I’m saying is, be patient. I’m going from telling my story to telling OUR story.

And in this vacation, I became more aware of you/yall/me/us. I just wish who I’m visiting with could see my world (and its perspective). I feel like I’m not making sense right now. All I can ask for is the patience from listeners to craft something that makes sense to all of us. It’s a challenge, and I feel like I put in enough work to be able to branch off into …what I want to do, but this isn’t about JUST me.

Left index up, Goths. Something tells me you know what I’m cooking up. StarChasers, you are SO worth the fight. I’m just trying to find my own worth in this whole thing. 

Be proud, NYC! I’m holdin it down under pressure.

~Jr.~

Sidewalks of New York

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I can hardly contain my pride in New York, specifically The Knicks. After decades of disappointment, Brunson and The Boys are bringing a trophy back to the city. All I ask is that the city (find a way to) contain itself so that nothing negative can be drawn from our victory.

A few StarChasers called me out for celebrating The Knicks/NY's victory. "Ain't you from Cleveland, boss?" I do believe I spent enough years in NY to claim it/be claimed by it, but, as always, I leave it in the hands of people who were born there and first met me at age 5. 

The above song was recorded WAY before this season, but... it just fit to be released last night. The way I see it, Cleveland got a ring w/ LeBron, so it's only right they lay down for New York. 

"Raised by the city that doesn't sleep. Raising eyelids in the city that doesn't sleep..."

I may be back later. Just gotta get a cup of coffee.

Go, New York!!!

 

~Jr.~

To go outside (ClaustroClothic)

 

One of my dearest StarChasers, Jas. started a clothing line for Goths "who want to go outside". Inspired by the mantras of Mac Miller and others, ClaustroClothic is vibrant as it is dark.

Above is just a taste of what she's got. Albeit, probably not the best choice (on my part).

So proud of you, baby girl.

Click here to check out the stuff

The Sun is beautiful, You All.

Soak it in. 'Tis the season.

~Jr.~

Gatekeeping a Star

It was always love between us. I provided motivation and charm, you provided inspiration and wisdom. How to move in a room full of of vultures, versus sampling Labi Siffre’s “The Vulture”. The disdain came when measuring success by numbers. Though my views are low, I know for a fact that YOU and your inner circle are watching/listening.

Such being what it is, know that there are other inner circles from which I am mentioned in.

Anything I drop through retail, no matter the price, can be purchased by an opp. Keep this in mind, my niggas.

Stakes is high.

I’m at a point in life where… I am numb to my happiness. I have good friends (knuckleheads as they may be), loyal supporters (sarcastic as they may come across), a supportive family… there is just a bug in me to continue downing myself.

“The Devil is in me; whoever should tempt me is asking for it.” (‘07 CH, “Superman”)

Dead The Devil doesn’t like my success. I fight possession every day. Goths, that uneasy feeling when you see that light skinned nigga w the wavy hair and toe jam breath? Likely that’s the 6z within you trying to intervene without telling you what to do or making you do it. 

To fight The Devil would be to down ALL Devils. And I love my niggas. Thus, I been praying for them and letting them know at each chance that God is real. I’ve been told that I should preach. By many, AND God. Shit I dead was preaching in jail! From #DevilSide’s perspective. Booyyyy I was ROCKIN’ it. Niggas dead understood. 

My music is Gospel-like, in that ultimately I’m talking to God through astral projection. Upon enlightenment, you can not only see Heaven (in my music), you see God Herself. Stick around and She will morph into He. Stay tuned for the finale…

You see it all through my eyes.

“That’s the part that sucks. Bring it.” (‘19 CH, “Cordless Phone”)

~Jr.~

The Grinch

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My Dad to the left, my Uncle Mark to the right.

Anyway, I do kinda wish I wasn't so mean to my StarChasers in 2012. I had a chip on my shoulder about the expectations for my post-incarceration music. They didn't make it any better. I guess because I provided an escape from the harsh reality of life that they didn't like me taking on my problems HEAD ON and FACE-TO-FACE. 

I would rather work side-by-side with you guys. I always ask how I can improve my music, knowing that I know best. I can always afford to learn. But from whom? The best say I got it! From Jimmy to Pharrell. And I'm sure if you ask Hov, he'd tell you I got it. Em said it! 

Whatever. 
I know my worth.

I think StarChasers were faced with a darker reality once I stopped writing. You can't always rely on my eyes to give you encouragement. I gave y'all bars that came from THE SOUL. THE HEART. THROUGH THE MIND. You gotta respect it.

I even gave you ammunition to NOT like it. And you picked it up, loaded the clip in the AK, and blasted yourself with it. I think it's apparent that I could've made a "Vampire Sunlight" in 2012. All I needed was a proper studio. Even still, the #caverecordings were made to inspire ANYONE to use ANYTHING and WHATEVER to make music and say what YOU have to say. As much hell as I caught for it, now everyone is recording on their phone (BandLab is cool).

I take pride in being ahead of my time. I know what it takes to be me. To be me is to be a star. Mom, Grandma, Uncle Gee, Dad and Uncle Mark KNOW I have what it takes to be a star. Yet I'm choosing to be a #RecordingArtist (eg. The-Dream) over being a performing artist (eg. Tinashe). I can't contain the feeling of being in the studio... specifically my home studio... I want this forever, mane.

This record was made late one night. I was in a deep slump, talking back to the voices. The voices ended up being this beat's melody. I am getting older. I was never a player, but the value of women has gone up. At least in my world/head. I hope women fan agree on ONE THING... at least one thing. Catfights are a turn-on, but I can never walk away with the winner. Just how I am.

Prayers for all.

I'm over here fuckin shit up on FL Studio.
Scream back!

~Jr.?~

 

Stagefright

These 3.

Grandma, Uncle Gee, Mom.

The 3 reasons why I shall fear no stage.

See, around 2014 when iLoveMakonnen got knocked out onstage, I got really timid about performing. I had been talking GREASY on record about some cats who were connected. THE LAST thing I wanted was to be jamming onstage and get sucker punched by who Im rapping about.

2012 was the same thing. I was SPECIFICALLY gettin' at *drKiwi* and *drKiwi*, and wanted ALL the smoke. In fact, I invited them to "do something" about what I was doing/saying onstage. This is/was before I saw what was at stake and who the war was really between.

NONE OF WHICH have ANYTHING to do with performing. Nothing should scare me into NOT rockin the mic. I am, indeed, a solid performer. And now that I'm not on the PARALYZING meds I was on before, I can guarantee putting on a good show.

There are some opportunities to catch me live in the near future. It's all about WHAT to perform. Catch you up to speed or go down memory lane? You'll enjoy yourself either way. 

Special thanks to MY Big 3.

Grandma, Uncle Gee, Mom.

Always with me, in their own special way.

~Jr.~

 

#KingKiwi's accident (In Black & White)

Still in a nasty depression bout. Saw the results of the game. The ignorance of Trump, coupled with the White Magic of Wemby cause the Knicks to lose. I bet, no matter the outcome of this series, those nuns will/would have put a hex on me. That's dead how they do. Catholics, don't play innocent now. Y'all use magic to fight evil the way I use magic to defend good (at least what *I* find good; y'all should know, AND you'd be surprised... 1ne). Even still, I didn't allow my dark cloud to be a catalys for NYfailure tonight.

And felt horrible because of it,

I mean, I got music made (been WILDING on Fruity Loops lately), and I'm currently blogging. Always a good exercise of the frontal lobe. But I'm a New Yorker at heart. I can get rude, my nigga. And my loyalty can be spoken about throughout the whole city. I feel bad not adding my #spiritfingers to the muscle-bound underdog home team. 

Thing is, midway through the game, I realized why I don't watch sports as much anymore.

Brunson is a great player. But my everyday can't be determined by him. TRUST: as much as I love Dilla, it's been a HARD road not being impacted by him, his music, or his passing... or the thought of him being the Neo-Soul 2Pac (iykyk). I adjusted my game to fond, passing thoughts of him being traced in my music, from DIRECT references to him and his music. Same with Em (BIG TIME), same with Dr. Dre, same with Hi-Tek, etc.

It's a little different with #KingKiwi.

lol he is the GROUCHIEST Doberman you ever met. But he's loving, caring, funny, and WISE. 
Still in a funk, I walked over to his apartment, hoping to score a quick smoke session and maybe get a laugh or two in. He opens the door, and the tv's on! Thinking it was Star Trek, I opened my mouth to say "Ready, King Kiwi?!". He pointed to the tv, and unlike our Star Trek voyages of yestermonth (pick up Alfred Banks' "Yestermonth" on whatever DSP you use!), it was Black & White.

I sat down.

Upon further observation, #KingKiwi was watching The Three Stooges. Mom was the one who could tell it, I USED TO LOVE THE THREE STOOGES!!! Lo and behold, I cracked up SEVERAL TIMES within minutes. I might not be back to 100%, but thanks to #KingKiwi's satellite television, I remember what it feels like to hurt myself laughing.

A lot was said in this entry. All I know is, I want no smoke with New York, especially over something as (censored) as a championship game. And let's be clear: I get it. It's been a few lifetimes since the Knicks won a championship. But I felt myself go on a downward spiral watching the game, and I needed to redirect my energy into something I know loves me as much as I love it.

She is the only love, for cryin' out loud...

~Jr.~
#

"Less than 3 mins. in the 3rd."

I'm watching The Finals.

I'm rooting for The Knicks.

For whatever reason, I have a personal vendetta against Wemby. 

Probably because he would tower over me.

I don't like when tall niggas do that.

They have no choice, I guess.

Regardless, I have lost COMPLETE interest in the game.

I wish NY THE BEST OF LUCK.

I believe in the 2026 Knicks more than I do 2021 Charles Hamilton.

It's kinda always been this way.

But you would have to be a damn vegetable to NOT see my impact in this series.

Such is not why I'm dooinit.

I'm damn near summoned into it.

And if my magical self should falter, New York would ONLY have me to blame.

Trump is just watching the game.

I'm sorry if I failed you, Big Apple.

I hope the Knicks win.

But duty calls (music), and I been on FIRE all day/weekend.

You can do it without me.

You did it so far this season...

Again.

I want the Knicks to win.

I just won't be doing anything serendipitous to make it happen.

Magical = Serendipitous, for those lost in the sauce.

The depression continues...

what is it?

~Jr.~

Butterfinger 0fficial lyrics

(Verse 1)

Standing on solid ground when no one is around is not a problem when you start from the ground. Though I found I have company, I haven't employed. I haven't made them deploy the ink on a pen to say what they may enjoy... if they don't have to think again. Reason being is in ink. Before the ink has been received. No reason for you to be leaving! Dollar signs are what I wanna receive. And what I need, I *want*to get. And what I want to get has been intercepted by... what I need. So what you're *gonna* get, I ain't hiding. You hiding from it.

(Hook)

Have you ever asked yourself, "What is he doing?"

I'm practicing what I've learned.

I learned not to let you go!

I learned not to let you go.

Therefore, we'll never burn.

(Verse 2)

Before my mother died, I told her I have a crush on her. A sucker indeed, but Krishna crawling at my ribs led me to believe that as a listener, she'd get all that I give. And with the sickness (not a disease) that I live with bothering me inside, I honestly needed to provide the profession of affection that she had not received for years when crying tears of me being what I deny my peers to be: a real DeBell. A rebellious Devil. Don't ever settle.

(Hook)

Have you ever asked yourself, "What is he doing?"

I'm practicing what I've learned.

I learned not to let you go!

I learned not to let you go.

Therefore, we'll never burn.

(Verse 3)

Every man eventually finds their mother is who they're meant to be with... in the eyes of another. And I have hidden secrets from many. Yet you're hiding secrets from me and the pleasing (indeed) of which finding the secret out would be, is why you doubt me. Now, I feel lousy. You wanna be down with me, and I'm down on me while I'm (goin' down on you...). The Tongue of Destiny, leaving my throat. I'm speaking it slow. Maybe she... wants to kiss me again. maybe those kisses weren't the wind. The perect sin. A Perfect 10, in subtraction.

(Hook)

Have you ever asked yourself, "What is he doing?"

I'm practicing what I've learned.

I learned not to let you go!

I learned not to let you go.

Therefore, we'll never burn.

You know who you are.

Thanks for the memories.

~Jr.~

Workinonit! (potential double-title)

In the last week or so, I've been going over the songs I have the masters to and mixing them over. Yes, the first mix is usually the final mix. But I FOUND MY MASTERS to at least 5-6 years of music! I don't have a lot of Pro Tools sessions/masters, and even then, I don't have Pro Tools. Regardless, I will be dropping mixovers of particular CH joints.

I might have to redo the ENTIRE "Dream On". The mic I was using was a podcast mic (specifically). But "Dream..." has a cult lil bas by itself. As good as I've gotten with mixing, I think y'all would appreciate a fresher mix.

Currently bumping "Death Becomes Her", off #ModernArt!. I can confirm that it was a diss track to my mom... for dying. As much as we beefed while she was alive, almost instantly every lesson she taught made sense. I feel bad for blacking on her when I did. I thought she couldnt see my hard work! I thought she wanted me to be white washed! I'm sorry mom! Shit, I can feel her whipping me now (for carving).

Now look. I've said too much.

Back later.

~~Jr.~~