MySpace a place for friends

One fateful night in the year of the Fourteen Hundredth and Fifth Moon (1405th) or on the 1st April, 1985. A soulful boy was born to two wonder-eyed parents and semi curious sisters. April Fool took its toll on this small boy, who later was to be crowned Yoriyos, or better known as the Prince of Athenaeum, a name spiritually passed down from grandfather to grandson. In Greek it’s meaning is simple: a worker of the earth or a spy with a curiosity for the unknown. Many myths surround the curious: some say his night-ghost is a friend of a famous Native American Warrior Chief; others say he is a lost poet. Some even ask, “What the heck is a Yori-yos?” But what we do know is that he was born behind Lord’s cricket ground, true North…London.

Then came a glimpse of lightning…when the young Yoriyos was given a tape of 50s rockers such as Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry and The Shadows, the imagination was sparked. A few spins of The Beatles and a musical career was ignited. Added together with an unbridled obsession for reading Hunter S. Thompson, and the mould was setting; love of music and literature combined perfectly with his talent for writing. From William Blake to John Keats, picked up at school, Yoriyos began to write his own poetry whilst pretending to attend maths class. After a spell of southern London blues, beating a dirt track to Richmond-Upon-Thames, to study photography and English, his identity was still hidden from his classmates.

Then at the age of 17, he held a guitar and started to play. This was the turning point - or the point of no return depending on your angle - because it is here that the plot begins to take shape, Yoriyos realised his true calling. Then, when he was refused entry to music classes for not being able to read dots and quavers, he set out to the other end of the earth on his own and defiantly recorded a six-track demo. That was 2003. Punting his demos to various record companies (under numerous aliases), they were soon solemnly returned. But hey! Far from feeling down or deterred, he set up his own record label in 2004, Rarechords, so that no one could further hamper his musical ambitions.

Under the helm of Greek producer Chaz Kkoshi, still unable to read music, two years and a few hundred retakes later a debut album was born - Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee; otherwise known as Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee (the variation is in the pronunciation). The name was taken from a book Yoriyos’ father brought home from America. The history and spiritual teachings of the original inhabitants of the American lands found a new advocate. Amongst the songs he had written, the heart-touching narratives of these brave Native warriors helped define the context of his thoughts about the sad deterioration of all things natural. Determined to voice his concerns about the situation of the world, the album is Yoriyos’ oeuvre, and is meant to be read as such. As ambiguous as was intended, the metaphor flows through the songs as much as through the title. The same can be said for our tale of Yoriyos. But some mysteries are better left to the story-teller.

The album was finally released in the year of the Fourteen Hundredth and Twenty Eighth Moon (1428th) or what was commonly known as 2007. Since it’s masterful creation, Yoriyos has been working on a fraternity of follow-up records. Yoriyos is currently fostering ten cats, having mistaken one of his cats pregnancy for obesity.

The future for our protagonist Yoriyos still lies with the fateful moon - and the light it casts in the darkest of nights, while those cat’s are busy eating him away, literally.

Yoriyos recently gave birth to Noxshi.