In Which I Answer The Question
Why I'm Making This Music
I make these songs because gender ideology’s a fucking circus, and I’m not here to clap like some trained seal.
X is a war zone — half the posts are preachy word salads, the other half are memes slicing throats. I live for that mess. Pop with a middle finger, reggae twisting into vaudeville — it’s not about one tame sound.
It’s about snagging this gender obsession, the holy dogmas and the unhinged clowns, and slamming it into tracks that hit like a brick through a window.
You’ll feel it, and you won’t shake it off.
This isn’t some chill playlist fodder. It’s a brawl with a beat.
Gender’s the live wire — step on it and you’re either a hero or a heretic, no middle ground. The rules flip hourly: ‘Bow to the pronoun gods or die,’ ‘Science is dead,’ ‘No, it’s king.’ Total crap. 'Call the Cops on My Feelings' is me laughing at the identity gestapo storming my brain, all jagged hooks and venom. Another track might swagger out, dripping sarcasm, because this whole debate’s a fever dream begging for a wake-up call.
I’m here to make you squirm — deal with it.
I’m also doing this because if I don’t, I’ll gag on the sheer stupidity of it all. These riffs, these wild sonic pivots - they’re my grenades tossed at the sanctimonious pile. Gender ideology’s a shaky tower of nonsense, and I’m the wrecking ball.
If you’re pissed off, crank it louder. If you’re smirking, you get it. I’m not here to fix it; I’m here to torch the script and yell, ‘Look at this shit show.’ Catch the rhythm and choke on it — or don’t.
Just don’t act like you didn’t hear me.