1000’s of mp3’s lying in 100’s of folders wait for me in the next window. But I am not afraid. And you shouldn’t be either.
All that matters are the 14 songs on this album. All of them conceived at the boiling point of a personal failure. All of them recreate a mishap with CGI fanfare and turn desperate cries for help into sheet music. In short, Beaus$Eros is about misunderstanding love. Then committing that egregious error to stone tablets. It’s about being wrong.
Every Busdriver album has been an important step in translating what visions we have into a solid presentable body of work, but the music here has never been more honest or iridescent. I’m confident that my relationship with my producer Loden could give way to multiple careers worth of life bearing jingles if it wanted to. Not since Temporary Forever had the writing/recording/producing process become so inspired. Thankfully I only had to ruin myself financially to see it through to the end.
In the most romantic sense, this record was recorded on a laughable shoestring budget in what seemed like a hailstorm of ‘no’s’. My old label dropped me after hearing demos of it, my booking agent ran away from me while we were drinking coffee and discussing how great it was going to be, and my DJ went to law school. I’m surprised that we stood the course for the year and a half that it took to finish this thing. I guess I believe in myself more than I thought. Or more likely my belief in Loden was enough to sustain through the album making process.
Needless to say, you picking up a copy of Beaus$Eros is incredibly important. Not only does my future depend on it, not only do my daughter’s teeth depend on it, but records made by indie rap acts in their 30’s depends on it as well. I represent an era of hip-hop dude that is currently being grossly misrepresented. And we are slowly being made redundant by wandering eyes and lackluster output. But that shouldn’t matter. What matters is that this record is the risk that you have been waiting for. Every song dares you to fall off the edge with me. Every mistake is there for some reason, every reason is a mistake in itself, and every arpeggio and/or pad that highlights that mistake is a neon-lined mirror. Thank you for the years of support and thank you for embracing this album. FakeFour is the shit, LA is the shit and you are the shit.