RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Thursday, February 14

SONG OF THE DAY: Don't Pray On Me

I distrust white dude americana folk music for the most part, because a lot of times it feels like comfortable middle class white men pretending to be whiteboys through the performative act of playing traditional lower class musics. The weird thing is most actual whiteboys all like hip hop (or that weird fucking country rap shit... ugh). I’d like one day for American discourse to get into the deep work of race and class and my internal dialogue of the differences between being white male and whiteboy and how a lot of times whiteboys have had to navigate environments where they’re not the immediate majority despite being the cultural majority, and how that fear is manipulated into creating a stronger racial division between people from similar and/or same class background in order to maintain the bullshit system we have. I mean shit it’s all relevant, because the media still blames poor white people for voting for Trump, when in actuality it’s wannabe middle class suburban polo shirt white people who carried him over the top. Shit, most actual poor people hardly vote because they already know they’re fucked, or they can’t vote anyways because they’re in jail or disenfranchised due to record or they’re caught up in life’s constant bullshit. But white males have jumped on the americana roots music bandwagon so trimbeard shinefaces make music like this, and if I can’t see the person or realize they’re ultimate goal is to play the jam band circuit, a song like this one will sneak through sometimes and I’ll actually enjoy it for a minute. But then usually I go past a new pie shop opening in a gentrifying neighborhood, and some white male who looks like he actually not only uses beard oil but has a preferred brand (or two, depending on his goals) is going in to get a $5 slice of pie, and I shift back into whiteboy mode and end up sitting at the house (which is actually a basement apartment) freestyling over old 4th Disciple beats about murdering the world and planting blue corn seeds in the ash of the fallen.

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