It's been 11 years since mom departed. Nothing has been the same since. Her birthday is tomorrow. St. Patrick's Day (for those keeping score). Maybe it's her luck that she left this earth before the robots took over (not a shot at Daft). Whatever it is, I am now ashamed of my rage towards my mother.
She truly did love my music.
I remember conversations we've had about my music's development. The advice she gave has lasted longer than the phases and trends we've seen. I also think her having me in church protected me from some bullshit. She always gave me my props, as far as being an organist.
And... the thing? She saw me get down in the studio. Now, when you wrap a session (artists and producers), you fill out a session sheet. This itemizes everything you did in the studio. She signed off as the producer. I was hot, but it's true. Mom produced "Graceful Wishes (feat. Kendall Morgan)" and "Body Suit (feat. CYoung)". I took direction, rocked the mic, and graced the keys. George Massa (Spits!) got credit for his guitar and bass work.
I saw mom get down in the studio.
She didn't have to strum a string or touch a pencil.
Mom was the GOAT.
^
^
^
Enjetic! Where we at?! Blast this joint off!
feel it.
*SUPER!*
