When you grow up in a place where nothing interesting happens unless you make it happen, it forces you to develop a certain kind of drive. Raised by a ower-child hippie mother and an immigrant father with an intolerance for bullshit, Bleubird was permitted to freely bump Poison Clan and Circle Jerks at a very early age. He was mentored by his older brother and next door neighbor who taught him to love BASS Music and guided him towards the wonders of skating, ghting and punk rock. This diverse family landscape cultivated the interesting perspective you hear in Bleubird’s music. 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 while sharing a cab in Zagreb, Kevin Martin told him he curses WAY TOO FUCKING MUCH. He neither looks nor acts his age, is dicult to categorize, and his vast catalog of diverse music speaks for itself.