Issue No. 2

Phil Moore Brown
S. Badiyah Austin

Imagine a place where you are able to feel complete frequency; total energy transmitting through the atmosphere. The pulsation of the drums rival that of your own heartbeat. The vibration of the bass guitar melodically hums vibrations down your spine. Sound waves from the keyboard course rapidly though your veins, vocals flowing so freely along the mind's brainwaves that you are unable to tell their thoughts from your own. This is the kinetic experience you are possessed with once in the presence of Phil Moore Brown.

Philly spawned Phil Moore Brown has spun together a form of rock revolution that ignites the soul and mellows the mind. Their blend of African funk, rock, and poetic prose, creates a soulful phenomenon to transfix the natural world and fuse together a combined musical coercion within any audience. If have been fortunate enough to be a part of the swaying entourage made up of an abundance of dedicated admirers at one of Phil Moore Browne's live performances, then you have borne witness to a musical marvel.

Picture the scene at a recent show: a quiet anticipation falls over the spectators as the five visible members of Phil Moore Browne walk onto the stage. They are vocalists Yung Tung (Daniel Thomas) and Yung Spit (Shaun Walker), bass guitarist, Yung Stroke (Dale McMillan), drummer Yung Skins (Chuck Duguesne), Yung Touch (Daud Studivant) on keyboards, and a sixth invisible member who stands in the background adorned by a trench coat, who all agree embodies the pure essence of Phil Moore Browne. "He is the personification of the honest and unexpected," says Touch. "The martyr that we can refer…Phil Moore Browne is our pulpit," adds Tung.

Standing in front of a packed venue, the band's head banging, body-rocking melodies took over the crowd, with Tung and Spit verbally leading the way. The band performed songs from an untitled album in the making, inspired, says Yung Spit, "By the history and adventures of the Negro."

Tung flourished in his role as emcee, by the use of active communication and intense prolific monologues. Whether he was breaking during the course of a song to simply relay a deeper meaning, relinquishing clothes so moved by the moment, or coursing though the crowd to refuel his energy, he made sure that their meaning was felt. Pulling from personal experiences in songs such as Albino Clark, about a young man who gets shot in North Philly, Phil Moore Browne recounts each event as it happens, with Spit and Tung carrying grief in their eyes, and healing wounds with their voices.

Using instinctive instruments, such as Spit's theatrical use of his mouth to produce dramatic rhythmic sounds, or Touch's ability to convey psychedelic sound effects through his keyboard, or Stroke's manipulation of a bass that cries out through baritone keys, the melodies behind the message dispenses a meaning of its own. At the end of the set, your body is sore from shaking limbs to their rhythms, your face is wet from either sweat or tears as you've been pulled so far into their world, your soul is still in awe, and the person you are has forever been altered because somewhere deep inside, you know, that the essence of Phil Moore Browne now lives in you too.

To contact Phil Moore Browne, email philmoorebrowne@hotmail.com.