Car Commercial Music and Young Bro's Bio

This is a nice song from a car commercial.



Not sure if I want to choose between a teal or beige GMC Terrain or eat a fistful on dirt while spinning in circles with my underwear around my ankles. Just kidding, those weren't real thoughts. Just contemplating the nuanced relationship between art and advertising in the information age or something.

...

This week's Spotlight Artist of the Year and winner of the GMC Terrain Lifetime Achievement Award, fellow MYSPACE artist 'Young Bro'. He plays shows in parks and overcomes life's obstacles.

http://www.myspace.com/abcyoungbro

>>Young Bro's BIO(taken from his myspace)
"Young Bro" was born and raised in Dallas, Texas. He was the middle child of 6 siblings, 2 giving up for adoption and 1 from a different mother. Growing up in the streets of Oak Cliff, life was a struggle for him and his family. It's very common for young males in the streets of Oak Cliff to become victims of the streets. Drugs and violet crimes were a day to day thing. With his dad being in and out of jail, and his mother forced to be a single mother, Young Bro was determined to do what he had to do to better his life.

Growing up he wanted to play basketball. He would go down to the park almost every day and write rhymes on the side. He soon began to grow a passion for writing lyrics. At the age of 12 he started to write lyrics to instrumentals and made at least one song each night.

He then realized that this was what he was meant to do. He later told His brother (Texuz Boy) and his two cousins (J Cash & Young Flow) about it, and the four decided to start a group they named ABC Act Badd Click, a name given to them from when they where growing up. They soon changed the name to ABC All Bout Cash. This was only the beginning for Young Bro

With the help of J Gonzo, All Bout Cash recorded a song called, "Down Here". The song was Performed at the 2006 Latin Energy Fest in Fair Park. The group had their first big gig. Performing in front of a large crowd. Their performance was a success. People all over Dallas started recognizing their music, and things seemed as if they were only going to progress from there.

In August 2006 Young Bro and his girlfriend, Ellie became parents at a very young age, with his daughter born 23 weeks premature, he found himself facing some harsh realities of life. Fighting for the life of his daughter, he became a devoted father on his grind for his family. He is very proud to say his daughter is now three and very healthy.

The Group ABC added two new members cousin (Lil Moe) and close friend (Trigga Rick). People began to notice their music more and weekend began to get booked with performances. Life for ABC became busy if not in the studio they were out in a gig. Although every thing seemed as if it were going good the group slowly began going their separate ways and Young Bro became a solo artist destined to soon make his own mark in the world of music.

Young Bro has just finish his Mix-Tape, “Ride Solo, Die Solo” and it will be for sell soon. The Mix-Tape has a little bit of everything. It also included a lot of his life experience in his music. He not only writes his own music, He produces it also. So If you are interested in buying his Mix-Tape or booking him for a up coming show you can reach him at YUNGBRO214@YAHOO.COM or

Throughout all the struggles and hard time Young Bro has learn never to give up. When one door closes another one will open. He says, “Its has all been worth it, and has made me the strong person I am today”.

sup dog (foreveR)

believe in yourself and shoot for the stars
you're great
you are as cool as your coolest thoughts/feelings
on whatever subject comes to mind
i feel like you probably think about way cooler things than I do

the first time I saw you, I said to myself
"He/she is so hot and majorly cool. (S)he'd never want to talk to me."
And you didn't, because you're that cool
I had to bribe you with treats
(via crackers and snacks)
and then we became friends
now we run an orphanage for foster parents
it's a big waste of time, but i feel pretty good about it

Sup dog, forever

You're my #1. See you in heaven (not hell)

*****************************************************************

father figures

in the wet, wild thicket of thickness
a bald skull gleams
and she sheds a tear
buries her life inside his yellow crust
and a mistake is made
in vain

'this is what makes me different:
I ain't like them other girls
I'm fun, outgoing, I like to party..."
i aint no farmer's daughter, i'm a brand name bitch

hark
evil lurks
krah
skrul live
backmasking is the devil's last refuge
lil' bitch
the ultimate foil

'i see the beast in all my father figures
i seek his warm, hot blood
his cool, smooth way
his steadfast gaze'
the girl's got to have it

a sharp crash, a clean break
cold shudders multiply
shards spread, all erections within a 30 mile radius abruptly cease
tiny pieces 'go out' in precisely different directions, all the time
in their own way, the only way it could be

she flinches/he winces. it's over.
a void emerges, soon to be filled
and removed, perpetually

she is pure
she is a dignified vessel
a beacon of virtue
a light seen from the sea on a dark gray night

she is too human
typically fickle to a fault
a dirty rotten poop of a bitch
that stinks to high heaven

voices interject:
they suggest we project
she's just a girl
nothing more
nothing less

morning prayer

In a cabin
in the woods
in the hills
taking pills

with a long
wooden cane
poking holes
making stains

standing up
sitting down
staring straight
looking round

at the walls
of this room
in the midst
of ein tomb

feelings are just feelers, feeling out a niche
don't give in, there's nothing in it for you
don't give in, there's nothing in it for you

catharsis is a well cultivated myth
there's no direct advantage to screaming at the top of your lungs
there's no direct advantage to screaming at the top of your lungs

acting on emotions is a lifestyle that has been handed down to you from pop culture
no one has to see you do anything to make it worth while
no one has to see you do anything to make it worth while

these people aren't your friends, they're good-time vultures
have some dignity and control yourself
have some dignity and control yourself
control yourself control yourself control yourself control yourself control yourself control yourself control yourself control yourself control yourself control yourself
yourself yourself yourself yourself yourself yourself yourself yourselfyourselfyourselfyourselfyourselfyourselfyourselfyourselfyourself

no more troubled romantics antics

i went to a summer camp once
lets say i was ten
the counselor told us that anything was possible
we just had to believe it for ourselves
and try real hard
he asked us what we really wanted to do
a kid raised his hand
he told us that he wanted to fly
like, not with a plane
with his body
(there was some confusion over this)
a space jam era white child fantasy

the camp counselor told him this was impossible
he was met with indignant cries
'but you said'
'i know what i said, but'

maybe he should have just encouraged him
either way, would have been interesting

instead, we learned about the natives that once roamed these great lands
their proud, noble ways
they used every part of the buffalo
before the white man brought the funk

i went to a high school named after one of these types
hes not with us anymore
but im sure hes proud of us all

Only be cool from now on
Only do cool things
Never tell anyone about this
Uncool

cool excuses/phat regrets

a twinge of lament
in a moment of weakness
a deliberate circumvention of morals/goals/standards
and a decidedly ill-advised last minute change of heart

an afternoon spent
wasting away in sweet,
warm pink placenta

atrophy ensues
serious bloating
and a loss of will

the automatic process of private logic
intellectualizes away all responsibility
and the pain that follows seems uncalled for

but hey
beats workin'

Biweekly existential crisis to go

if you give a shit
then you're dead meat
a rat dicked chump
in a thick tough stink
in an old black hole
in a sad man's ass
a doodle in an 8th grade math class

nostalgia
nostalgia
nostalgia
nostalgia
nostalgia
nostalgia
computers
nostalgia

menopause on the rocks

Aging gracefully
Trying not to make a scene
Standing sternly
Taciturnly, a "hand-on-hip bitch"
Half-listening, eyeing the scotch
Wishing it was chocolate

Peering around the ballroom
Like some sort of middle-aged Siamese cat
Vacant squints, a slowly-rotating neck
Scoping the others with an implied disapproval
Shooting dirty looks from behind the tinted windows of my SUV (read:big, hard, black body)

Tight faces
Arched eyebrows
Cold glances
Hot flashes

Chillin
2nite
4eva