Someone who makes music as unique as Buck 65 must have an interesting story. Here’s your chance to learn much as you ever will….
They said he wouldn’t make it. Buck 65 was a sick baby. Now look: the geezer’s got grey hair. He’s got drift wood art in his yard. Sometimes he comes out on Sunday’s. Maybe you’ve seen him at the flea market. He pushes around a custom shopping cart, buys the records no one else wants and bags of fudge.
They tell stories about him. The rumors are numerous. Something about the Yankees. They say he was on Sesame Street once. Did you hear the one about him and Sonic Youth? What’s all this about living in a tree? Ask him now and he’ll say all of it’s horse feathers.
This is my new musical discovery, it belongs certainly to a narrow advised public, bur worth some text junk, the lyrics have nothing to do with parental advisory, but all the eset is about conscience evidence, that music rings very nice, I like what he said :
i don’t know what’s wrong with the youth of today
wandering lost, it’s true what they say
and who is to blame? tv and magazines
they would have you believe that everyday is halloween
why, when i was a kid, playing in the ditches,
living in fear of satan and the witches
the whole world was made of wood and smelled like gasoline
the days were at least twice as long and the grass was green
463 from he’s album “Talkin’ Honkey Blues”
[an interview with Buck]
[At the BBC]