C.S. Armstrong Joins Despair W/ Misfortune To Come Out Healthier On "YA OWN KIND" (Prod. by Jay Versace)
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At the end of a world's erosion stands the bloody in-fighting and avoidable communal collapses spun through a tale as old as time. Often committed by the hands of people within their own communities, they bury more lives than one. From the aftermath of such events is where you'll find musical artist C.S. Armstrong, standing among the rubble trying to fit the pieces back together with his Jay Versace-produced record, "Ya Own Kind."
These are the sounds of a stoic state of emergency. Injured horns mutter their last bit of strength in widely parted sections within the arrangement. A feeble hi-hat/bass drum relationship depressingly lies in bed as tempo control because it couldn't find purpose in being moving rhythm. Scratchy vocal samples from the voice of an unidentifiable righteous revolutionary evoke fight from the gut as "Ya Own Kind's" framed piano melody and chords detain the track in teary-eyed struggle. Versace's production breeds the environment for tragedy and misfortune -- Armstrong's vocals come as the result of nature overtaking nurture.
The "Truth Be Told" artist warbles with a rapper's bells and whistles that posits him as a helpless bystander only capable of being the messenger. The melodic choruses and verse(s) are a half notch above being spoken, carrying with it sore harmonies acting as adlibs. That level of minimalism from the vocal performance spotlight C.S. Armstrong's down bad lyrics and leave the song feeling bereft.
Ya Own Kind mirrors running warm water over a burn -- the song cries in despair but once met with more hopelessness things start to feel better. To borrow the words from the description for this song: "Ain't it true, tho?"
Listen to "Ya Own Kind" below.
Lead Photo Cred: soundcloud.com
At the end of a world's erosion stands the bloody in-fighting and avoidable communal collapses spun through a tale as old as time. Often committed by the hands of people within their own communities, they bury more lives than one. From the aftermath of such events is where you'll find musical artist C.S. Armstrong, standing among the rubble trying to fit the pieces back together with his Jay Versace-produced record, "Ya Own Kind."
These are the sounds of a stoic state of emergency. Injured horns mutter their last bit of strength in widely parted sections within the arrangement. A feeble hi-hat/bass drum relationship depressingly lies in bed as tempo control because it couldn't find purpose in being moving rhythm. Scratchy vocal samples from the voice of an unidentifiable righteous revolutionary evoke fight from the gut as "Ya Own Kind's" framed piano melody and chords detain the track in teary-eyed struggle. Versace's production breeds the environment for tragedy and misfortune -- Armstrong's vocals come as the result of nature overtaking nurture.
The "Truth Be Told" artist warbles with a rapper's bells and whistles that posits him as a helpless bystander only capable of being the messenger. The melodic choruses and verse(s) are a half notch above being spoken, carrying with it sore harmonies acting as adlibs. That level of minimalism from the vocal performance spotlight C.S. Armstrong's down bad lyrics and leave the song feeling bereft.
Ya Own Kind mirrors running warm water over a burn -- the song cries in despair but once met with more hopelessness things start to feel better. To borrow the words from the description for this song: "Ain't it true, tho?"
Listen to "Ya Own Kind" below.
Lead Photo Cred: soundcloud.com
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