The watch
Ten and two.
Still smilin'.
The pocket watch on his chain was his grandmother's. It cracked in the apartment fire she carried him out of, and it stopped at ten after ten. It never moved again.
Ten and two. Watches in store windows are set to that time because the hands make a smile. His stopped there for good, and he wears it through every night shift at the port.
The night always lie to you. Tell you it's forever. It ain't.
Grandmama · Until Tomorrow
The debut album
Dreams Don't Die
One year in the Town, in ten chapters.
Written in order, released in order. Every song picks up where the last one ended, from a kid the world wrote off to the morning the lights come back on.
Chapter 14:11
Until Tomorrow
Where it starts: a kid from the Town the world wrote off, and his grandmother's promise to hold on through the night.
Chapter 24:00
Keep the Lights On
A Tuesday, a notice taped to the door: rent up four hundred. They can take the house, not the home.
Chapter 34:08
Ten and Two
4 a.m. in a car parked behind Grandmama's church. A flashlight on the glass. Hands at ten and two.
Chapter 4 · coming
The night shift at the port, loading the world onto ships that never take him anywhere. Cranes at dawn like crosses.
Chapter 5 · coming
A friend from the block, nineteen years old. One pill. T-shirts with his face on them.
Chapter 6 · coming
Grandmama in a hospital bed, a bill bigger than the house they lost, and the choir singing at her side.
Chapter 7 · coming
The night he almost goes back to the corner, and the watch in his pocket that stops him.
Chapter 8 · coming
Grandmama's last Sunday in the choir, and his name written in her hymnal.
Chapter 9 · coming
The one who believes in him on the nights he can't.
Chapter 10 · coming
A first key. The lights come on. The sun comes up over the cranes.
About
Raised by the Town. Carried by a choir.
Jax Morrow is 25, from East Oakland. His grandmother raised him, sang in a Baptist church choir every Sunday, and carried him out of an apartment fire when he was a kid. The scar on his cheek stayed.
Today he works night shifts at the port and raps what keeps him up at night. When hope finally shows up, a gospel choir sings it.
More about Jax Morrow