Growing up in a place where nothing “cool” happens unless you make it happen forces you to develop a certain kind of drive. Raised under a NO BULLSHIT immigrant father and hippie mother who allowed their son to freely bump Poison Clan and Circle Jerks at a very early age. With an older brother who taught him to love BASS Music, and a neighbor who taught him to skate, fight, and make bombs, Bleubird raps from an interesting perspective. He caught the tail end of the “Indie Rap” wave and managed to ride it throughout the world until it crash-landed him back home in South Florida where he was happy to embrace his roots and welcome the maddening sun blotto. Mike Patton once called him stupid and one time, in a cab in Zagreb, Kevin Martin told him he cusses WAY TOO FUCKING MUCH. He neither looks nor acts his age, it is impossible to put him in a box or keep him standing still for more than a moment, and his vast catalog of diverse music speaks for itself.
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