Every dream begins with a dangerous song.
Music was the only thing that ever made sense. When our father died and Mama slipped away into her own ghosts, I learned to make pain into melody and silence into survival. We started Black Honey in a Clarksdale basement, built on grief and grit, and I swore I’d never let anyone have control over it. Then we signed to Hollow Crown Records. Then I met Levi Ford. He wasn’t like the rest of those vultures in suits—he was quiet, intense, the kind of man who could hear truth in a single note. He made me sound like everything I’d ever wanted to be. And maybe that’s what made him so dangerous.