Bryan Carman

Bryan’s humble beginnings in the American Mid-West created a musical foundation based in Chicago blues and good old rock and roll. You see, he was the only son of a seventh son and was raised by his mother. His daddy left the house one day to catch catfish and they never saw him again. Some say he was swept away by the river deep and some say he left searching for the crossroads only to return some day with his axe in hand. But that never happened. This boy was born in blues. 

He carried on, grew up with the love of his mother who always had a song in her heart. She loved to tell people they grew up together because she was only a child of 15 when he was born. Born in the ides of March, a day that was enthusiastically celebrated among the common people with picnics, drinking, music and revelry.  

He was only 5 when an axe was first placed in his hand. A lute of six strings that were forged in the strands of time. Made of the driftwood from the tree of life. He took his first instruction from a wizard in the woods of Atlanta. An old wise musician from the forests of the deep south who trained him in the writings of good golly, Miss Molly Hatchet and the great Leonard Skinner.

The winds of change pushed our hero West in his youth. Planting him in the middle of a lone star with open plains and steel birds in the sky. These early years built upon and complimented his southern-fried foundation. He used his time to built classic rooms of rock and metal furnished with the plush treasures of the King. Things were good but tragedy always seems to be around the corner.

Our hero had to learn of the dark story of life. The story that says each grand life is followed by a grand death. This tornado of souls forced our friend to the cold North destroying everything in his rearview mirror. When he was finally able to stop, he found himself in a maize of tender loins. Life had prepared our hero for what came next and looking back this was the easy part. These were the good times. You know those times you look back upon fondly and would revisit in a heartbeat.

This is where our story gets good. For years he forged his blade of heavy steel and sharpened it with grungy stones of the earth. His only goal to craft a superior razor edge that is balanced and true. He joined forces with many others during this time of exploration allowing him to experience everything through their eyes while he collected precious knowledge. He learned about the rush of life in the fast lane and the comfort of taking it easy. Your hero found the balance between the light and dark side of the moon.

That brings us to now, where we mask ourselves under threat of disease only to be plagued by our own humanity which no mask can shield. Humanity we do not wear on our face because it lives in our soul. Your hero is ready now to write the next part of his journey with eyes on him in this new world. He’s ready to walk with the punks he has found and conquer the earth through sound.


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