BFT — A Return to Myself

I have always listened to music.

Folk, rock, progressive rock, pop,edm, disco,soulful folk, and many things in between. Some became influences I could name. Others stayed somewhere deeper, becoming part of the way I hear music without me even realizing it.

I also played music myself. Folk songs were part of my life, both professionally and as something I simply loved to do.

Then, at one point, someone saw something in me and began to shape me. I followed that path. It was exciting, seductive, and full of possibilities. I learned, worked, adapted, collaborated, and kept moving forward.

But somewhere along the way, I lost something.

I lost sight of myself.

For years, I kept trying to create, to work, to find the right people, to collaborate, and to make something that would finally feel right. Yet somehow, the work never quite passed through that invisible door.

I understand it differently now.

The problem was not that I had no identity.

It was that my identity had been buried beneath the roles I had learned to perform.

And strangely, it never disappeared.

It was still there — quietly present underneath everything I made.

Eventually, I stepped away. I became quiet. I left the scene and stayed away for a long time.

Then I started again.

Not by trying to become someone new.

But by becoming BFT.

BFT is not a genre I designed. It is what remained after everything unnecessary was stripped away.

Sometimes it sounds like Folk. Sometimes Rock. Sometimes Pop, Progressive, or something I cannot name. I no longer feel the need to force it into one category.

I am beginning to understand that the music is simply another way my inner self speaks.

And perhaps that is what I am doing now — listening.

Listening to the part of me that had been speaking quietly all along.

I am not trying to tell the world what BFT is anymore.

I am letting the work speak.

Let the songs reveal it.

Let the people who listen decide what they hear.