On his debut studio album, Jaco utilizes every musical tool in his arsenal to take us on a journey through his-and at times our own-expressions of humanity. Duality is the name of the game;  on songs like “Blessings” a descriptive and surgical rapping style paints the picture of a man who plants his feet on the ground, marching forward in an endless advance, daring the world to even TRY to move him from his spot. While melancholy haunting ballad “Fold” digs into the vulnerable moments required to build the confidence and spiritual strength we need to forge our own paths. The albums spiritual themes showcase Jaco as a prophet, a disciple to his dreams, delivering us the message of how sacred our journeys truly are

Fold

Evil Angelist

Riptide

CHEATER

“She Speaks in Riddles” is a jazz-folk drift into the kind of love that feels half real, half dream, the kind where you’re always leaning in, trying to understand someone who lives just a little outside the lines.

You are guided through a world of metaphors, half-truths, and beautiful confusion. Every lyric floats like mist, close enough to touch, impossible to hold.

This song lives in the space between two people where meaning twists, reshapes, and slips away.
She talks in symbols, sings in metaphors, hides behind cosmic little phrases that feel poetic and heartbreaking at the same time.
You’re trying to follow her… even when you know she’s already somewhere further inside her own universe.

If you vibe with late-night introspective folk, jazz-coloured textures, atmospheric storytelling, and songs that feel like rain-soaked windows and unspoken feelings, this one’s for you.

Put this on when the world gets quiet and your thoughts get louder.

She speaks in riddles. And maybe that’s the only way she knows how to tell the truth.

Lyrics:

Soft rain on glass
No straight lines, just curves in the dark

She says the moon forgets her name
Talks to shadows like old friends
I nod and echo what she claims
But I can’t tell where the meaning ends

And I try to follow
Through metaphor and mist
But every phrase just floats by
Like something I somehow missed

She speaks in riddles
Leaves no maps behind
Every word’s a window
That fogs up with time
She laughs in secret
And hides behind her eyes
She speaks in riddles
And I don’t know why

She calls the morning “just a bruise”
Says silence has a shape
She’s all the hues I never use
On canvases that warp and fade

And I keep collecting
Her phrases like old stones
But none of them fit together
Like fossils from someone else’s home

She speaks in riddles
Leaves no maps behind
Every word’s a window
That fogs up with time
She sings in symbols
That blur within the light
She speaks in riddles
And it feels like goodbye

Maybe she’s hiding
Where language slips and breaks
Or maybe she’s hoping
Someone dreams in her mistakes

She speaks in riddles
And I stay close behind
Tracing every whisper
For meaning I might find
She hums in riddles
And I still reply...
She speaks in riddles
And I don’t ask why

“She said the sky’s just water held in place...”
And I believed her anyway.
