
MO3
Biography
About the Artist - Phyllis Grant - New Brunswick - Canada
MO3, aka Phyllis Grant, is a mother, artist, rapper, beat composer, filmmaker, dreamer and lover of all creation. She's from the Mi'gmaq community of Pabineau First Nation, New Brunswick, Canada. Her very first cd, "Up Risin'", was released in August, 2008. You may find it at cdbaby, amazon or iTunes. She has performed across Canada in both intimate and very large venues, and is currently preparing an art+rap+spoken word show to reflect the release of her album, and hopes to perform in a few select cities in the coming year. Phyllis's artwork has been exhibited in Canada at the Art Gallery of Southwestern Manitoba and with Honor the Earth's "Impacted Nations" in New York, Minneapolis, Santa Fe and Chicago. In 2004, Phyllis was nominated for an East Coast Music Award (Industry, manager of the year) She feels the implementation of all types of art, music and writing -as progressive forms of expression- lead to true cultural and spiritual understanding. Her contemporary observations connect and celebrate the people in her community with the patterns, swirls, forces and beats that exist in nature. Phyllis is a Canada Council grantee for Writing and Publishing and a member of the Writer's Guild of Canada, the East Coast Music association (ECMA), the Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN) and recently, the Canadian Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences (CARAS) In 2006, she completed her first film, "Maq and the Spirit of the Woods" -a children's animation produced by the National Film Board of Canada. It has been selected and screened at several festivals, including the imagineNATIVE Film + Media Arts Festival in Toronto, the American Indian Film Institute's Film Festival in San Francisco, the Chicago International Children's Film Festival and National Geographic's All Roads Film Festival in Los Angeles and Washington DC. The film is also in the permanent collection of the Smithsonian's National Museum of the American Indian in New York City. Phyllis's work is also featured in Pearson Canada's "Literacy In Action" textbooks, launched Autumn, 2007. In 2008, she was a finalist in the 4th Atlantic Ulnooweg Development Group's Aboriginal Entrepreneur Awards in the category of Woman Entrepreneur of the Year. She is currently directing her second animated film with the National Film Board of Canada (2009) Lyrics, art and music available at: www.phyllisgrant.com e-mail MO3 at ancestorca@yahoo.com Lyrics, art and music available at: www.phyllisgrant.com e-mail MO3 at ancestorca@yahoo.com
Lyrics
Bukowski Gingham
Written By: Phyllis Grant
Kneelin' among it, yeah he's a man lookin' past
the sum of 10,000 tragics mangled up in the mass
lathered, seethin' in smoke, torched, contorted in frame
Final blood for the 'pires (vamp), is this the last they can drain?
Claps the dust from his hands, holds 'em up over his head
Drawlin' out the last words that his mama had said
"You see, the violence at hand may be the violence you nurture,
don't you know anything son, about the balance of virtue?"
Deconstructin' the schemes, he was imprisioned by means
Set up by sorest of hearts who would unravel her dreams
"Can you hear me dear mother, inside the madness of this?
Do you still see how we suffer, would you find hope in this mess?
He could swear that a kiss had pass'd upon his cold cheek
Warmth and breath intermingled in a chaste, silent sweep
Closed his eyes like an infant carried up in her dream
Swayed like swimmin' in oceans through to rivers 'n' streams
See my arms reachin' out? I'm lookin' out for your freedom
I'm quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
Hold you tight to my heart, no competition for saintdom
Quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
See my arms reachin' out? I'm lookin' out for your freedom,
I'm quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
Hold you tight to my heart until you're feeling its rhythm,
Quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
He'd sense in this passin', perhaps a dawn he could stand
(for) in her prose she had stirred up subliminal plan
Amid her echoes soft-spoken, a small boy reminisced
How she'd adapt ancient legends through the black of her pen
Many times she would question, yeah, the goodness in men
Perplexed with what made 'em hurt what they can't understand
how in a second they'd switch from fear to who gives a ****
It was the strand in that second that she'd gather in love
'n' thread a needle of hope that she could sew in small ways
to reach the tattered, the worn-out, ripped-open and frayed
And when the images formed inside the broken-up glass
He focused in on the fragments that mighta mirrored his past
And thought that freedom of mind might equal freedom of choice
He could choose which shard would reflect his own voice
Truth began growing wild from indescribable sin
He rested up like a century -rugged healin' within
See my arms reached out?....
And it repelled each madness that tried to attack
There was no place for the clutches 'pon the thick of his back
Down in fields, up streets, over mountains, in gutters,
He'd hear a similar song, by one of many-a-mothers
Singin' "Hold your head high now, lift your eyes to the rain
No, don't you simmer in sadness, it only punctuates pain
Fulfill all that you are, may you feel all you deserve
From the stars I'm still watchin', gatherin' all that you've learned
All songs and instrumentals Copyright © Phyllis Grant
All songs and Instrumentals Registered with SOCAN
More lyrics at:
http://phyllisgrant.com/lyrics.html
Bukowski Gingham
Written By: Phyllis Grant (MO3)
See my arms reachin' out? I'm lookin' out for your freedom
I'm quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
Hold you tight to my heart, no competition for saintdom
Quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
See my arms reachin' out? I'm lookin' out for your freedom,
I'm quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
Hold you tight to my heart until you're feeling its rhythm,
Quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
Kneelin' among it, yeah he's a man lookin' past
the sum of 10,000 tragics mangled up in the mass
lathered, seethin' in smoke, torched, contorted in frame
Final blood for the 'pires (vamp), is this the last they can drain?
Claps the dust from his hands, holds 'em up over his head
Drawlin' out the last words that his mama had said
"You see, the violence at hand may be the violence you nurture,
don't you know anything son, about the balance of virtue?"
Deconstructin' the schemes, he was imprisioned by means
Set up by sorest of hearts who would unravel her dreams
"Can you hear me dear mother, inside the madness of this?
Do you still see how we suffer, would you find hope in this mess?
He could swear that a kiss had pass'd upon his cold cheek
Warmth and breath intermingled in a chaste, silent sweep
Closed his eyes like an infant carried up in her dream
Swayed like swimmin' in oceans through to rivers 'n' streams
See my arms reachin' out? I'm lookin' out for your freedom
I'm quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
Hold you tight to my heart, no competition for saintdom
Quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
See my arms reachin' out? I'm lookin' out for your freedom,
I'm quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
Hold you tight to my heart until you're feeling its rhythm,
Quiet and clean in Bukowski Gingham
He'd sense in this passin', perhaps a dawn he could stand
(for) in her prose she had stirred up subliminal plan
Amid her echoes soft-spoken, a small boy reminisced
How she'd adapt ancient legends through the black of her pen
Many times she would question, yeah, the goodness in men
Perplexed with what made 'em hurt what they can't understand
how in a second they'd switch from fear to who gives a ****
It was the strand in that second that she'd gather in love
'n' thread a needle of hope that she could sew in small ways
to reach the tattered, the worn-out, ripped-open and frayed
And when the images formed inside the broken-up glass
He focused in on the fragments that mighta mirrored his past
And thought that freedom of mind might equal freedom of choice
He could choose which shard would reflect his own voice
Truth began growing wild from indescribable sin
He rested up like a century -rugged healin' within
See my arms reached out?....
And it repelled each madness that tried to attack
There was no place for the clutches 'pon the thick of his back
Down in fields, up streets, over mountains, in gutters,
He'd hear a similar song, by one of many-a-mothers
Singin' "Hold your head high now, lift your eyes to the rain
No, don't you simmer in sadness, it only punctuates pain
Fulfill all that you are, may you feel all you deserve
From the stars I'm still watchin', gatherin' all that you've learned
All songs and instrumentals Copyright © Phyllis Grant
All songs and Instrumentals Registered with SOCAN
More lyrics at:
http://phyllisgrant.com/lyrics.html
Stars and Stones
Written By: MO3 (Phyllis Grant)
8. "Stars and Stones"
Choose to make everyday
a time to celebrate
He invites me on the track,
no time to hesitate
‘Cause my bro is my blood,
Catalyst for a flood
Of rhymes from a mother,
Navigatin' the suds
I expect no less than your
best-flow effort
Put your best foot forward,
or you’re just makin’ me suffer
Through an empty composition
‘bout your next of kin
Please Say what you mean,
Or just keep it all in
I really need to hear
'bout Who it is you Are,
Not how much money you make
Or the speed of your car
It takes more to fascinate
I'm on meticulous levels
M' ‘tention’s up, on, over
All this dizzyin' drivel
I'm bangin’ my head
Like a tortured James Dean
I'm a sooth-say-in' rebel,
Sans the Obvious Scheme
I like to think my notions
Are a clue to where we’re headin’
Trail-blazing a path for the
Ones who need Leadin’
And if I’ve got the strength
In knowin’ Who I AM
Then you can bet that
I’ll be doin’ it because I Can
I’m happy holdin’ it down
With my promise and plans
In collective agreement
Of the strongest of clans
No, we won't give up
And it's makin' 'em anxious
Cause we're dancin' with the Stars
And the Stones of the Ancients
No we won't let up
And they're losin' their patience
Cause we're dancin' with the Stars
And the Stones of the Ancients
I’m a feelin' the change,
And it’s a comin’ soon
Healed Nations awakened and
Beginnin’ to bloo' (m)
We’re no longer held back;
Programmed to destruct
We’ve thrown off all the blinders
That harass and obstruct
Yeah, they like to say
That I’m an Optimist,
Combatin’ all the lurid,
Messed-up masochists
'Cause my glass is never barren,
It’s filled up to the brim,
In my eyes you’re a Saint
In the presence of Sin
I can’t help what I say,
Innate need to explain
Intrinsic observations
In the cosmic chain
This is what's on my mind,
You can use it or leave it,
When fame slams ya in the bricks
You'll still be welcome to hear it
And when I see that all my pain
Has worked out for the best
I can lay my body back
Into the earth -to it’s rest
You can be sure that my essence
Will not wander, latent;
Tap dancin' with the Stars
And the Stones of the ancients
In deciduous boughs,
At times, my spirit will sit
And if you need me I’ll be right there
In the sway of a limb
Praying that you strive past mediocrity
See that potential RAGE up
To Actuality.
No, we won't give up
And it's makin' 'em anxious
Cause we're dancin' with the Stars
And the Stones of the Ancients
No we won't let up
And they're losin' their patience
Cause we're dancin' with the Stars
And the Stones of the Ancients
Up Risin'
Written By: MO3 (Phyllis Grant)
1. "Up Risin'"
I had to learn to take it
One phase at a time
Hold my head up though
The Devil’s busy
Chewin’ up my insides
Sometimes I sit back,
Tilt my chin and grin
Cause like a fistfight epiphany
Nobody wins
See the only real enemy
Exists in yourself
And that battle can be bigger
Than the battle for wealth
The opressed can’t help themselves
On what they choose
Predisposed to make choices
Based on nothin’ to lose
And I solemnly prefer
To cradle compassion
When it comes to the afflic'ed (afflicted);
The lack of tact in their actions
Before my mind is made up,
I seek another perspective
Like to look a bit deeper--
Look for utter objective
Approaches to things
And approaches to Being
Want to match a life worthy
Of the Woman you’re seeing
My ethics are a result
Of a constant progression
Holdin’ true to life’s lessons
On this journey’s succession
I’ve always had an affinity
For the lyrical world
And in some verses take shelter
Hear the beauty unfurl
As a rapper pays homage
In words to something or other
Makes me believe in my sisters
Believe in my brothers
And like fresco first dabbed
By a painter's brush,
When you remove the debris
And remove all the dust
Brilliant colours shine through
What’s intended prevails
You restore basic truth
Dissolve the somber details
And the people who feel
That things should stay
As they are
Are the people afraid
Of eventual scars
But the marks only come
From the rebirth of our nation
Our losses force us to grow
And continue creating
So if you find yourself jilted,
Bitter, imprisoned,
By people who hold to,
Pseudo-conviction,
Please keep movin' ahead,
I know the times may be tough,
But like an Orca in it's prime
You’ll be breachin’ up
My humble beginnin's were with
The pen and pad
Sittin' at the kitchen table
Holdin' babes in my lap
And when Tupac blended
With the likes of Bruce,
It planted all the right seeds--
Felt the need to contribute
Twenty-Six years old,
Those were the golden days
Babies laughin' with the beat
My skirt twirlin' in their gaze
Red Suga was born, and
My life switched paths;
Fringe-Dwellin' deviation
Accordin' to the Mass
But you can't withold Life
From an emergin' soul
Who needs to share vision
Who needs to unfold
And seek out the Others
Who might think alike
Help a new generation
Through burden and strife
If there's one thing I can do
In this world I know,
To make it just a bit better,
Make good energy flow,
I'll put the time in it takes
To reach that distant horizon,
What am I gonna do?
I'm Up Risin'.
Discography
MO3, Up Risin', Phyllis Grant 2008
Set List
Stars and Stones
Bukowski Gingham
Sweep
Mama Did It
Old Souls Day
Verses of Millay
Up Risin'
(also: various instrumentals with visuals)
Spoken word poetry throughout
Celebration piece at the end with Stars and Stones of the Ancients (When I have guest performers/dancers. rappers, spoken word artists)