My music in online stores. Again.

**I used to put all my music on iTunes and several other online stores. But I stopped after two or three years because the distribution service (TuneCore) charged much more than the income from sales would cover. I went over to bandcamp.com, which was free, and put up the entire catalog of music Rick Martinez and I had recorded and produced over five years. We worked under the name of RamonaStGeorge, the streets where we both lived at the time.  Most of it was my stuff, although we had begun to produce other singer/songwriters too. Nothing came of it. Just before Halloween this year, Rick asked me to put on Facebook a song we had recorded a couple of years ago, "Scary Maryann."

I recently heard about another distribution service, DistroKid, that was about half the price of TuneCore and offered a hefty discount for new subscribers. So I decided to put the single and our first album, "Mind Zones," back on the more popular online music stores. Here are the links:

Mind Zones

Amazon  

Spotify  

Google Play  

iTunes  

Tidal  

Scary Maryann

Amazon 

iTunes 

Google Play 

Amazon 

Spotify

When I have time and inclination I'll post the other twenty or so songs we produced. In the meantime they can all be auditioned on our bandcamp site, RamonaStGeorge.com

Review of "Between the World and Me"

** Just finished this remarkable book. Here's the review I posted on Amazon of Between the World and Me:

Donald Trump may be a blowhard and a buffoon but he is a saint to the American Dreamers that Ta-Nehisi Coates identifies as the institutionalized oppressors of his people. These Dreamers vote for Trump in polls but will not get to vote for him in an election because, as Al Sharpton observes, he will forever be a Lounge act and not classy enough for the Big Room. There are a few, though, who are crafty enough to hide their racism under a veneer of good-heartedness, and they will get Dreamers' election votes. 

Coates maintains that the stain of racism goes so deep that it cannot be expunged. It must destroy itself as it destroys everything that it feeds on, including black bodies. This brief book, a collection of "letters" to his son is at once a searing indictment and a soaring paean to black struggle. The language is lofty while its gaze is gruesomely gritty. How many white people will read this and acknowledge their own complicity with black oppression?  And how many black people immersed in the Dream will wake up? I doubt there will be many.

And that is the irony of this book. It is an indictment so vast and convincing that prosecution is hardly imaginable. Even so, it is a poem so eloquent that it can't fail to move the reader. It will take its place in the canon of great American writing.