THEY DON’T EVEN LIVE HERE...

The Robber yells… “Throw your hands up!”

The Rapper yells… “Throw your hands up!”

The Rabbi yells… “Throw your hands up!”

Seems like some twisted posture of prayer. I haven’t been praying much beyond “thank you” lately. Exhaustion + Guilt = Avoidance.   

I’m driven to make records people are dying to play. The challenge is doing that while simultaneously writing from *that LONELY (unavoidable) PLACE. “A ship in the harbor is safe,  but that is not what ships are built for.”  That’s how I feel about making music.  In contrast to everything I’ve ever been taught, I only know how to dream big. And not just in a material sense. In fact, I’ve learned over the years that material dreams are the smallest of all.  So in sitting down to write “REDEMPTION”, my sole goal with this project is to affect people - to have a lasting effect on HUMANITY.  

For the last four days I’ve been having the same dream. I’m in a room that I think is supposed to be the room I grew up in. In the center of this room is a child holding an illuminated PENROSE in his hands. Almost like a secret he’s trying to protect. I don’t know the child. Or at least I don’t think I know him. And he doesn’t look like me at all. He looks to be about 9 years old. There’s an old school record player in the corner of the room playing “Imagine” by Joan Baez. In my dream I am standing in the dark, staring at this kid, saying nothing. The kid never looks up. And I never look away. Then I wake up.

I recently returned from Seattle, WA where I had a series of interviews about a song I wrote. All signs point to something substantial happening in the future, but I can’t shake this sense of impending doom. I just want to write. But they want me to perform. So my time is split between coming up with the right words and learning to be entertaining on stage.  

The Robber yells… “Throw your hands up!”

The Rapper yells… “Throw your hands up!”

The Rabbi yells… “Throw your hands up!”

And the critics. Oh how I adore the critics. Those, who if they saw me fly, would call me an elitist for not walking like everyone else. I sometimes wonder if they even know what that LONELY (unavoidable) PLACE is or looks like. If they’ve ever truly been there. I write from my soul - from my own beautifully hellish lonely place. This is why critics don’t hurt me. Because what I write is of me, and from me.  AND THEY DON’T EVEN LIVE HERE…

The Robber yells… “Throw your hands up!”

The Rapper yells… “Throw your hands up!”

The Rabbi yells… “Throw your hands up!”

i yell… “stand up! and be heard”

 

Tears In Your Eyes - Theophilus the Scholar Remix

We believe in CREATIVE EXCELLENCE. We believe in STANDING OUT. Please enjoy "Tears In Your Eyes - The Theophilus the Scholar Remix". And if you believe what we believe, please LIKE/SHARE this song!

Loud & Proud (12th Man!) by Anthony J. Shears & April 12th

"LOUD & PROUD (12TH MAN!)" SONG CREDITS:

SONG WRITTEN BY: ANTHONY J. SHEARS, CAM'RON ANTHONY, SHIRIN EBRAHIMI, MAJOR MYJAH, 

SONG PERFORMED BY: ANTHONY J. SHEARS, APRIL 12TH, CAM'RON ANTHONY, FREDERICK THAAE

SONG PRODUCED BY: MONSTA OF MONSTROCITY MUSIC

SONG RECORDED & ENGINEERED BY: ETHAN CARLSON OF STEREOGRAPHIC STUDIOS

COPYRIGHT: SHEAR GENIUS PRODUCTIONS/THE WRITER'S ROOM 412/SmG Music, LLC 

Television Debut - "Loud & Proud (12th Man)" by Anthony J. Shears featuring April 12th

For those of you who missed it... "Loud & Proud (12th Man!)" by Anthony J. Shears featuring April 12th

SEATTLE STAND UP!!!!!!


 

"Loud & Proud (12th Man!)" by Anthony J. Shears featuring April 12th

September 30, 2013 

I wrote this song simply because it needed to be written. In a way, this song wrote itself with the type of season our Seahawks are having. When you've been a Seahawks fan as long as I have, you understand the importance of authenticity and loyalty. That's what being a 12 is all about - Authenticity!

New single: “Loud & Proud”

 

Follow Anthony J. Shears on Twitter: @anthonyjshears
Follow Anthony J. Shears on Facebook: anthonyshearsmusic

I Thought I Could Fly...

February 26th, 2012

Sanford, Florida, USA.

Tragedy, race, prejudice, anger, outrage, and pain collided on that fateful morning.

A teenage boy in a gray hooded sweatshirt. Candy and an iced tea.

A mixed-race Hispanic male.

One bullet.

Two lives destroyed.

Two deaths.

Thousands of lives impacted.

The Retreat at Twin Lakes.

Forbidding gates with a welcoming name.

A neighborhood worth WATCHING.

With GROUND WORTH STANDING.

I've been a bit reluctant to tackle the Martin/Zimmerman "controversy" mainly because I do not see it as a controversy at its core. Tragedy. Race. Racism. Prejudice. Anger. Fear. Outrage. And Pain. All these things take precedence over the controversy. Maybe, in some way, they are the ingredients that make up controversy. Murder is the "crime" of unlawfully killing a person, especially with malice aforethought. Which for me begs the question of when EXACTLY is killing a person lawful. What does lawful mean? Who decides what lawful is. To KILL is to DEPRIVE of LIFE. And DEATH is the END of LIFE. SUICIDE, at least in part, is to put (oneself) to DEATH.  

Here is what I take away from these very simple definitions: That within this controversy, one man was murdered. Another man was killed. That two deaths have taken place. And that in these two deaths, hundreds of thousands of lives have been affected. Trayvon Martin was murdered. His murderer, in having committed this act, killed himself as well (which resulted in a type of suicide).  This disastrous event has no winners. A 'Not Guilty' verdict is not a WIN (by it's literal definition).  Nor is it completely a LOSS. To me it feels much more like a CALAMITY.    

All of this brings to mind Bob Dylan's "Only A Pawn in Their Game". This CALAMITY isn't simply a question of race, or racism. Of hatred, or prejudice. It's also a moral question. An economic and political question. A question coupled with a circus mirror reflecting the ever-evolving nature of our “humanity”.

It's not as easy as good versus evil or the righteous versus the wicked. Here we've been reminded that murder is not purely the crime of criminals, but also of law-abiding citizens. Of the courageous. And the fearful. Now rather than a tragedy endured by two families, this event has become a political opportunity punctuated by fear and words of hatred with spins from both the left and the right.

Two men lost their lives. And thousands have had their lives impacted for better or worse.  This song. My song is my attempt to offer a different perspective on it. To bring it back to the FACT that two men lost their lives here. And that there is a huge potential for many more to lose their lives if this situation is not handled appropriately. I asked myself what would Trayvon want? What might George Zimmerman be thinking in his private moments? What might they say to each other if no one else was around to witness the conversation?

I'm sure my attempted humanization will offend a few of you. To you, I ask if you know what it's like to take a man's life? Do you know what that feels like? Have you experienced that guilt? The nightmares? The ulcers? The cold sweats? The remorse? The shame? The self-condemnation? Maybe you have. If not, I would urge you to try, even if just for a second, to imagine doing something, making a split-second decision, that garnered worldwide news and forever changed your life. For the worse. That forever changed the landscape of your nation. Try to imagine being forever recorded in the history books as a murderer. A racist murderer. Then imagine NOT being able to apologize. To the person you murdered. The family you destroyed. The nation you transformed. The world you changed.

A finger fired the trigger to his name

A handle hid out in the dark

A hand set the spark

Two eyes took the aim

Behind a man's brain

But he can't be blamed

He's only a pawn in their game.

- Bob Dylan

We all have a story. Here's mine.   

I Thought I Could Fly Lyrics (featuring Anthony J. Shears) Lyrics

Dum Spiro, Spero...

It's been such a long process that I don't even know where to begin. I learned so much releasing this project that whether or not it does well commercially is secondary at this point.

I don't even know what to say. But what I will say is this... A year ago I was in Seattle, sitting at a park, writing notes on a journal about a project I wanted to release. Or in this case, re-release. I had the words "The Growth" in a circle in the middle of the page. And next to it I had the word "Objective" with a question mark. Underneath that word, I had the words "Teach/Inpsire them to listen. Again".

I hope this project finds whoever needs it when they need it most.

Sincerely,

AJS

Muzik Reviews - Anthony J. Shears (The Growth Deluxe Edition)

Damnant Quodnon Intelligunt...

My uncle used to tell me "If you have no haters, you're probably not very successful." Ironically, the woman who helped bring me into the music business, my 6th grade Language Arts teacher Maggie Everett, used to tell say, "Never pay attention to the critics - Don't even ignore them!"

From my first day of elementary school when my bus driver asked me if I carried so many books with me to make people think I was smart, I've been aware of the fact that if my critics saw me walking across Lake Washington, they would say it was because I was too lazy to learn to swim. Some do it because they love it. Others "critique" because they cannot actually do. I've learned through a series of unfortunate experiences that many critics are like VIRGIN SEX EXPERTS. In a technical sense, they know how it's done because they've read about it and seen it done before in movies. But in the end, they are unable to DO it themselves, and because of this, are unable to fully understand the meaning behind it.

 But fortunately for me, I have never placed pleasing the critics as a priority in making music. I'll continue to take my chances with the public. I'm called a "conscious backpack rapper" by street rappers. My critics on the "conscious rapper" side call me a "street rapper". I must be doing something right.

 ALL HAIL THE ESSENCE.

All Hail The Essence...

There's a certain artistic insecurity involved in creating art and selling it. It feels a lot like ditch digging. Entertainment is the end goal for some. For me, it's a dirty word I've tried to avoid as much as possible. What this process has help me discover is that LOVE is a strong as death. But that passion is stronger than both of them. 

My music is paradoxical. It allows me to find myself and love myself simultaneously. 

And so I continue to pursue this end. As a beginning. And an end. 

"The essence of all beautiful art, all great art, is gratitude." - Friedrich Nietzsche 

F.A.N. Fridays - "CL"

"Escaping from the world outside

I turn to you

Knowing I can hide

In the warmth of your music

Till it heals my soul

Sets me free

Of the fears untold

And restores my sanity.

When depression takes my day

"Tears In Your Eyes"

Somehow, someway

Soothes away the sadness

From my troubled mind

And lets me leave

The hopelessness behind

When I dry the tears from my cheeks.

When the need for courage shines over me

"Art of Survival"

Helps set my spirit free

And keep it from hurting

Even though no one's there

To share the hope

And show they care.

You keep the loneliness away.

I feel I can always turn to you

And your music will manage

To help guide me through.

So I come for comfort

Again and again

Hoping you'll stay by me,

Be my friend,

And continue to share your gift of song."

"CL"

Sometimes the hardest things for us to do end up being what's best for us. I'm no expert. Not in the least bit. But I know a thing or two about pain. About hopelessness. I equally know a thing or two about hope. And about REDEMPTION. All I can say is never give up. As long as your breathing, you have a chance at REDEMPTION.

Et lux in tenebris...

AJS

F.A.N. Fridays - "PP"

"Hello Anthony J. Shears,

"There's some things at home baby I don't want you to see"

Hits me hard hearing that right now. My parents have my nephew my sis is messed up on drugs prostituting just crazy.
The rest hits me I've been through the worst abuse. My boyfriend has fractured my nose jaw shoulder choked me till I pass out smashed my face with my breast pump while our 2 month old was in my arms tried to throw me out a 2 story window years of abuse..now he's a dope phene I'm trying to save him. This song makes me feel so much in the 4 minutes of playtime.

Thank you.

My story sounds crazy but thats not even the worst. that song brings me to tears every time."

"PP"

Just know that you're not alone. 1 and 3 women will go thru this in their lives. We need more real dialogue about domestic violence - not just "Leave him!" It's not always as easy as that. Thank you for your continued support. And though I haven't announced it yet, a portion of all sales for "Tears in Your Eyes" off of The Growth: My ENDtroduction will go to an organization of your choice! So pick one, and send it us in a message!

AJS

F.A.N. Fridays - "SN"

• • 
    

    "Dear Anthony J. Shears,
    
    
    OH MY GOD!! I didnt expect a reply, I cant stop crying! Tears of joy of course. Thank you so so much, this is one of the happiest moments of my life! I cant wait!! Its been a dream off mine to meet you but just seeing you live will be such a blessing! Your song "Tears in Your Eyes" has given me the strengh to finally stand up for myself in my relationship. I will be front row you can count on that! See you then:) Please never stop what you do and always remember you truly are changing lives, one of which is mine

    "
    
    
    "SN"
    
    Everybody at #smg is proud of you "SN". We'll make sure you're front row at the show! Thank you for all your support. We couldn't do this without you!
    
    AJS

F.A.N. Fridays - "AT"

• Poem By "AT"

  
  

  "I hadn't been to active on Facebook in awhile, I hope you still read fans Facebook messages, your popularity has boomed recently.

  
  

  Wrote this for you, I'm not a good poet but I tried my best. I don't normally write poetry unless I truly felt inspired by an experience.

  
  

  Here it is,

  
  

  About a year ago,

  I started to lose hope,

  trying to find a rapper,

  that I thought was dope.

  
  

  Then on Pandora I heard a song,

  That made me close my eyes,

  as he rapped along.

  
  

  There is something about his music,

  that makes me feel strong,

  that gives me that little nudge,

  that I need to continue on.

  
  

  Your music is amazing,

  It even brought me tears,

  Thank you Anthony J. Shears,

  I'll be listening to your Album for many more years.

  
  

  ---

  Keep on doing what your doing. Don't let anyone discourage you. You always have your fans to support you. TO THIS DAY, I have played your music to every friend that I have had in my car. Also at the gym since theres an iPod dock inside.

  
  

  Take it easy man."
  
  
  Word to "AT" for being a large part of my inspiration. I sincerely couldn't do this without you guys!
  
  

  
  

  
  

  Sincerely,
  
  
  AJS

The Growth: My ENDtroduction Deluxe Edition Trailer

7/23/2013

Sacrifice...

Into the night, James Morrison's "IF YOU DON'T WANT TO LOVE ME" sings a desperately sad song... TONIGHT feels heavy. EYE live in a time capsule hoping to write thoughts that land on their feet and hit the ground running.   But tonight is PURELY exhaustion. Weeping is worth 10 friends, but it's just me here tonight. And these thoughts without TEAR(S). So I go WITHIN to avoid the physicality of this SILENCE.

TURN MY MUSIC UP.

We lost. But won. But lost. But won. Lately the stage has felt like a battlefield of some sort - of inner conflict... rather than HOME.  The challenge of stepping on stage, digging a hole that could easily double as a grave, and planting seeds in hopes of growing something worthwhile is daunting.

Planting POET-TREES.

Picking and plowing a field of dreams in an attempt to tempt fate.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

In a lot of ways, MUSIC saved my life. But in other ways it has been responsible for my demise. I write to pour myself out to myself. I'm blessed to have anyone want to read/listen to it. But sometimes I wonder what it's all worth in the end.

And:

The ROBBER yells "Put your hands up!"

The RABBI yells "Put your hands up!"

The RAPPER yells "Put your hands up!"

= The posture of prayer

Put your hands up!

"I love HIP HOP so much it hurts." - Thus spoke my soul - to its SELF from its SELF.

In chess, a sacrifice is to deliberately give up material to achieve an advantage.

SACRIFICE.

MUSIC. Lives here.

Et Lux In Tenebris Lucet.

iN-TUNE(D)...

The more I find myself within it, the more I realize that the music business is no place for unchaste art.  Not that my art is in any way unchaste. I ascertain, however, that my art is really the only thing about me with any beauty at all, and for that I am grateful.

We spend hundreds of hours in search of the best soundtrack to express these ideas that have forced themselves upon us. For the best of us, we only passively choose music as a profession.  Most often MUSIC chooses us - torturing us until we bend to its will.  Sometimes I feel that the music actually dictates the words. And that the beats, sampled from our hearts by the Divine, are to keep us iN-TUNE(D).  Trying to describe the process is like trying to articulate heartbreak with an X-ray. Here, failure has its rewards though.

I function as nothing more than a messenger.  An intern for the Divine. Hard-working, but unfocused. Ambitious, yet apathetic like 'Fuck them. That shit ain't hard'.

I remember the prosecutor calling me a "tragedy of war"....

Years later, I now better understand the importance of that OMEN.  How ironic that Nature rewards with fruit only those trees that do not reach too high.  And that the fruitless trees find the most essential source of their survival in the very rainstorms designed to destroy them.  Does this mean that I may only bear the fruits of my labor if I lower my expectations?

With everyday that passes, my destiny becomes a little more clear.

REVOLUTIONARY.

But please remember to remind me to pray tomorrow. I forgot today. I was busy picking fruit, and planting seeds in the sky. Or from the sky. Or maybe because of the sky. I'm tired now. Goodnight.

Ode to the Absent

Tonight feels a lot like it did 25 years ago...  Only what was once a deep-seated fascination with abandonment now invokes something that reaches far deeper.  And in much the same fashion as I did back then, tonight I seek solace in only myself.  It is in times like these that I am best alone.  

In the last 25 years I have experienced ruination in a wide range of emotional, spiritual, artistic, and political forms.  Back then I was just an eye... and a heart. Seeing and feeling these sensations for the first time. Nearly debilitated by what felt a lot like pain.  Tonight the pain is much less acute. I'm experiencing the sensation in much the same way a documentarian experiences his surroundings - artistically objective.  Tonight I appreciate all the details I overlooked 25 years ago.

Personally, the hardest part for me has been accepting that I am a spitting image of what my mother resents most... It's what I believe has created the distance between us now. And the helplessness I feel looking at her looking at me trying not to feel hatred is enough to bring me to my knees at times. 

In my life, hope is something you can walk and climb on, paint, draw, write and recite.  Our heartbreak is always obscured behind the walls of our intellectual justifications and egos.  My initial reaction was one of anger.  But I could not decide who I was more angry at, him or me.  The potency of my imagination led me to believe that this time would be different.  But it wasn't. And its predictability stung.

That has been my defense mechanism though - turning ruin into something beautiful and romantically nostalgic.  So tonight, I sit the same kid I sat 25 years ago, picking up the broken pieces and attempting to make something pretty with them.  I learn to build sandcastles on the tops of waves as the sun sets with the same tools used for digging graves.  And after it all, what I've learned is that much of the joy in life comes from the memories of the sandcastles, and the challenge of building bigger and better ones after they're destroyed.

With that said, I want to thank you "Dad".  You forced me to recognize and accept that when a father gives to his son, both laugh; but that when a son gives to  his father, both cry. And that when one lacks the father he wants and needs, that he must create one because even the blind man craves for a tan he can't see.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Me

FOR THE UNDERDOGS...

This moment is a moment for the underdogs...

Life is a bed of roses where some only get the thorns. But this moment is for the underdogs.

For the person that's failed... The deadbeats. The sometimes defeated. The disadvantaged. The down-and-out. The duds. The failures. The flops. The flunkees. The underprivileged. The under-achievers. The cretins. The obnoxious. The stupid. The idiots. The imbeciles. The morons. The dregs. The outcasts. The riffraffs. The scum. The trash. The poor. And the dirty.

This moment is for all of us. On March 30th, 2013 myself and the rest of #SMG will be performing at Interscope Record's Urban King Hip Hop Showcase in Los Angeles.

We've worked so hard for this moment. Thousands of hours writing songs, recording, and rehearsing. Staying true to who we are. Never compromising on what we believe in. And more than anything, I hope what you all take away from this moment is that your dreams can come true. Hard work makes it all possible. And that's all I know is hard work. And part of that work has been to always be there for my fans - my family in the same way you guys have been there for me.

So when you ask yourselves 'Where was he when my tears were falling?', 'Where was he when I needed a friend?', 'Where was he when my heart was calling?' - I can say "Right here!" Whether or not something comes of this showcase isn't important to me. Your emails, messages, artwork, well-wishes, and pictures have all worked to bring me back from the worst kind of hell to a place where I can say I made a positive difference.

What began in my bedroom at age 8 as a way of easing the pain has turned into something so much more... More potent. Something so much more special. Special because I get to share it with you all. So thank you for putting me on these stages. On your radios. On your playlists. And in your lives. I'm doing this for all of us. Underdogs.

Rain on My Window... Pain

Thunder rolled tonight and shook the walls... Interrupting my contemplation on my beloved.

We spoke today. Well, in a way we did. I feel most alive in the moments right before she calls me "the past".  My words sit down next to her, silently. She doesn't see me for who I am now, but still looks upon what I used to be with something similar to love. Her tears are the tides that wash in, destroying my sand castles in the process. Then we sit next to each other silently, watching the sun set.   

"You are all of the downtrodden, misfits, and underdogs of society rolled into one person," she says. 

"Be weary of those who say they are proud of you. A CHANGE GONE COME. And they only see what they want. But you've been more than beautiful from day one."   

And though I've always been adept at understanding and capturing the essence of a weeping woman, with her I am at a loss. 

Love is part observation. Part possession. The truth is that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which we can aspire. It's our only hope for salvation. And tonight, as the rain washes away the sins of the world, I am keenly aware of my aloneness. Of the lack of love in my life. 

My hope is to heard. And loved for what I have said. 

I am not there, my dear. But remember me on nights like this when it rains. Then forget me. And never cry. I tossed the roses over the bridge I walked across tonight that wasn't really there. And watched them float away. 

Thunder rolled tonight and shook the walls... "But when there's no storm, how can I feel the calm?"

AJS

Fan/Fan-atic/Fan-addict/Fan-ta-sy/Fan-to-See/Fan-Art

Fan-Art by "K"

Made me think of this song...

"Valerie...
I know you can see through me
(I know you can see through my lies, oh oh)
Valerie...
You just choose to never know
(No you just don't know, what I do, what I do)
Valerie... (Valerie)
Why pretend to trust in me?
(I don't know why you trust in me baby, but I think I might know)
Valerie...
You'd rather this than be alone..."

- The Weeknd, Valerie

HOPE

This was a poem we received from a fan, inspired by our music. Thank you "C". NEVER GIVE UP HOPE. EVER!

For the one who knows and understands,
For the one who's healing hands reach across the lands,

For the one whose journey is the same,
For the one who is always there to take away the pain.

When around, my light is so bright,

A beacon for a weary traveller in the night,
He never lectures or preaches,
Instead reminds me that happiness is within my reach.

He sings those songs of knowledge and love,

Reminds me to search the heaven's above,
Once again I hear those whispers,
Whispers in the wind that save a dying soul.

With your friendship this heart will survive,
With your love my soul can thrive,
With your understanding my soul can rest,
With your encouragement I can pass any test.

So thank you for believing not doubting,
For always being there yet never judging,
And mostly for reminding me,
There is indeed someone who cares..

- "C"