Marcus Jade writes music, taps his feet, and sings the blues. His story starts when he was just a kid growing up in Indianapolis, Indiana, back when he was first drawn to music and started learning his way around a guitar, inspired by his older brother and the musical icons of the 80s and 90s they worshiped. Revolving in Indianapolis' eclectic music and art scene, he found himself at a young age in Basement shows around, jumping headfirst into Mosh pits, listening to Indy giants like Bulletwolf or Highway Magic. His first House show at the Halloween House was the catalyst to idea of starting his own band. His first garage band never played a show, but it didn't stop the notions of continuing to make music. His high School allowed him to learn and gain knowledge about music, giving him his first job at Broad Ripple's Luna Music. He took his love of music further when his close friends decided to gut out a spare study room in their school library and turn it into a fully functioning recording studio, allowing them to record, produce and perform their own music in the city. After High School, he continued exploring other scenes in various towns in the Midwest, and forming other bands before taking photos during the Occupy Movement. The Movement vanished just as quickly as it began, and like many young people, he too found himself at a loss and a pass. He put his music on hiatus, and began writing his way through the emotions of such a historical movement of our time. It was always in his heart, the music, and the pen and paper could not suffice or curb the need to say more. He has played with many outfits in various genres, from Hip Hop, to Punk, to Metal, to Zydeco, before settling into his own skin, re-igniting his love and passion for blues music, writing composing his own music. Currently living and playing in Brooklyn, if he isn't home, listening to his collection of records, writing poems on a manual typewriter and constantly practicing, he can often be found strumming and setting hearts on fire in art galleries and poetry shops, on rooftops, and in bars or parks- wherever there is silence to fill with music. He hopes his songs creatively and politically inspire the people who hear them, and help re-ignite a universal love and appreciation for the history of musicianship that blacks have contributed, and continue to contribute, to modern music. "It wasn't Growing up Easy, in a fast city, just like this. When you have two options in your life: hit or miss