Syd Lewis

Syd Lewis, a jackalope of trades in sounded execution and intention. Was conceived by a stag with white jade antlers and a dirtied-uprooted lotus flower. Born in the Murietta Valley bedroom community, raised in the poison ivy of the Ozarks. Once a traveling dyslexic folk poet of the Tom Sawyer stomping grounds turned amateur musical anthropology and self-taught composer. Drawing superfluous inspiration from the modern natures, Matsuo Basho, Buster Keaton, Skip James, Satie. In sound and spirit Lewis' new moniker Ego Stravinsky plays with modulated meter, channeling the likes of Stockhausen, Mdou Moctar, Gil Scot-Heron, Michael Hedges. Singing poetry of romance, western imperialism of imported material, inside jokes, the human condition, and beautiful abysmal invocation. As well as wordless pieces of dynamically driven thunder that will instrumentally grab the intention of a space. Hungrier than a mountain monk coming downstream from a binge. Throwing pennies to guide the next embarked pilgrimage towards the West. Lived and traveled several areas performing in North America, Ireland, South-East Asia, and Mexico. This Brooklyn-based artisan with a half-ounce of self satisfaction, delicate conjuring and precise genuine kindness the Ego Stravinsky will pull your conscious through the last Bardos and back to your current state leaving you with pure tranquility.