Rimward kid, chart math

Interview voice asked for my origin story like it was a product label you peel off after purchase. I said mag-rail yards, cold breath you can see, a mom who clocked in while I hummed hooks into a cracked earpiece that buzzed on the low notes. They wanted court drama and shade with names attached. I gave them a danceable shrug. Shade lands better when the bass still moves and nobody gets a free scandal.

Making it didn't erase the rim. It just rented better lights and a team that knows how to make an alto read as confident instead of careful. Berth Party nights still feel like home — call-and-response, bodies packed, nobody asking if you're authentic because the floor already voted with sweat. Rimward to Spire is a rise anthem without a policy speech stuck in its throat.

Stream the album when you need a lift that doesn't lecture and doesn't apologize for being catchy. I'm not here to be your storyteller-for-hire. I'm here to be loud, pretty, and hard to tax. See you under the dome. Bring your best wrong calendar. We'll fix it in the chorus.