buckbowen

The whimsical, pen-lifting lyricist with an appetite for introspection, self-improvement, and philosophical musings.

buckbowen

The whimsical, pen-lifting lyricist with an appetite for introspection, self-improvement, and philosophical musings.

Welcome to the website of Buck Bowen (<-- that's me).

I’ve been making music longer than you’ve been alive (provided you were born after 2001).

I make my own beats.
I write my own lyrics.
I record my own music.


I was doing self-deprecating "comedy rap" when it was still risky. Before it became cool to be goofy.

But then I grew up, sort of. And started making tracks dissing religion, which did not get me laid.

Eventually, I passed on making Carl Sagan songs and hoped to one day save the world with my motivational raps.

Still no line to jump my bones.

Nowadays, I release one song every Monday, and have been doing so, without fail, since April 17th, 2017.

I mostly rap about mortality, death, dying, oblivion, the ensuing abyss, and also death.

There is still no line behind me (the reaper doesn’t count).

And I’m ok with that (the first part).

So have a look around, get some free music and a copy of my titillating book in exchange for your email – or just drop me a line with your personal problem that I can solve. First one’s on the house.

Welcome to the website of Buck Bowen (<-- that's me).

I’ve been making music longer than you’ve been alive (provided you were born after 2001).

I make my own beats.
I write my own lyrics.
I record my own music.


I was doing self-deprecating "comedy rap" when it was still risky. Before it became cool to be goofy.

But then I grew up, sort of. And started making tracks dissing religion, which did not get me laid.

Eventually, I passed on making Carl Sagan songs and hoped to one day save the world with my motivational raps.

Still no line to jump my bones.

Nowadays, I release one song every Monday, and have been doing so, without fail, since April 17th, 2017.

I mostly rap about mortality, death, dying, oblivion, the ensuing abyss, and also death.

There is still no line behind me (the reaper doesn’t count).

And I’m ok with that (the first part).

So have a look around, get some free music and a copy of my titillating book in exchange for your email – or just drop me a line with your personal problem that I can solve. First one’s on the house.