A SONG. A LIFESTYLE. A WEEKLY EMAIL.
I'm Briyan Frederick. I write about flyover culture, making art while aging, and why my bald spot brings good luck.
No spam. Just flyover dispatches.

My knees pop like bubble wrap every time I bend down to plug in a guitar pedal. I live 500 miles from the nearest coastal hub, and my idea of an industry networking event is chatting with the guy at the local hardware store. Making art out here in the wild blue flyerover isn't glamorous - but it's honest.
We've got something the trendy kids don't: patience, perspective, and a deep appreciation for a good porch. The creative fire doesn't extinguish just because the hairline retreats. If anything, it burns a little warmer.

Support the newsletter and look mildly acceptable in public.

For drinking black coffee and complaining about kids today.

Stretchy enough for the dad bod. You're welcome.

Music to pull weeds to.
Free download.

Join the elite. We meet on Tuesdays and complain.
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Here's exactly what hits your inbox every week when you subscribe. No spam, just pure flyover absurdity.
Tall tales from the heartland. True stories, slightly embellished for your entertainment.
How to make art with a bad back and limited time. Practical advice for aging gracefully (or not).
Random lyric drops, noise, and whatever tune is stuck in my head this week.

Join me every week as I ramble about flyover culture, the struggle of being an aging creative, and why my back always hurts. It's absurd, it's honest, and it's definitely better than listening to the voices in your own head.
Join the Briyan Frederick Club. Get my weekly email full of Midwest musings, merch drops, and occasional bald spot updates.

© 2026 Briyan Frederick. Don't steal my lyrics, my back hurts too much to chase you.