I have seen Marc Anthony Thompson AKA Chocolate genius inc. on the HBO original Everyday People acting and singing, playing a role of a street musician and loved what I heard, and started following his career. I have received this mail announcing his new release. Here is a part of the attached bio:
Born in Panama, raised in California, and molded by New York’s music scene. Two solo albums before Cobain took over. A long break, as children are raised and life is truly lived. The creation of Chocolate Genius Inc., an alter ego that quickly transcended such a title. Sound-expanding collaborations with Meshell Ndegeocello, Van Dyke Parks, Doveman, Cibo Matto, 2/3 of Medeski, Martin & Wood, and Thompson’s only constant, Marc Ribot. And then, a seemingly sudden glimpse of high thread counts and private jets on Springsteen’s Seeger Sessions Tour in 2006, followed by an “emotional roller coaster” in Senegal.
And now this: Swansongs, the final chapter in an extended trilogy (see also: 1998′s Black Music, 2001′s Godmusic and Black Yankee Rock released in 2004 ) that’s turned first-person tales into truth-seeking therapy sessions. More than just an exploration of the letter “I”, you know? Or as Thompson puts it, “Gracefully embracing decay is the constant theme. Letting go. The curse of religion. The passion is the poison. That old dilemma—worship and penance; sparkle and fade; bass and trouble.”
The same can be said for every word and note plastered across the pages of Swansongs, an album that ties up the loose ends of Thompson’s never-ending story. Meanwhile, his Chocolate Genius guise shifts ever-so-subtly, as Thompson embraces a simple idea—to “record something I didn’t have to apologize for…a complete listening experience.”
Reluctantly, the book of songs is done,” says Thompson, who also dabbles in sound design and theatre/film scores (American Splendor, Twin Falls Idaho, the Obie-winning A Huey P. Newton Story). “I say reluctantly because I’ll soon have to stare at a blank page again, and greet whatever is next. That’s always the tricky part—by the time music is released, the process usually inspires an entirely new workflow, or has you headed to the road, sofa, beach, airport or bar. At least that’s been my syndrome. Though I write constantly, I release things sporadically at best, and sometimes as quietly as a cough. As Richard Ford says, ‘When a tree falls in the forest, who cares but the monkeys?’