maceagon voyce
bio
As a child MacEagon had a debilitating stutter. He was a hopeless bearer of his own last name. Over time, it became difficult to trust his voice, but through singing, he found a way to sidestep his speech.
MacEagon studied vocal performance and composition at Carleton College, singing his way through his stutter while beginning to find solace in the written word, transitioning into a career as a music journalist (Vice, Nerdist). For many years he hid his voice behind his pen, until he discovered (and later interviewed) the stuttering composer Alvin Lucier – one of the premier names of the 20th century avant-garde.
That conversation was the beginning of a long, slow embrace of a painful and defining part of himself. Eventually, he found his way back to his voice and his own music. Drawing from brooding melody makers like Angel Olsen and Thom Yorke, as well as prodigious vocalists like Jeff Buckley and Joe Cocker, the Minnesota-born & London-based singer-songwriter layers his powerful voice and poignant lyrics atop melancholic folk rock, captivating audiences from Brooklyn to Brazil.
Braneworld
Singing was the only way MacEagon could cheat his stutter, but even then, he was bullied and forced to turn inwards. In time, a rift emerged between himself and the image of himself, and they grew in tandem until he could no longer tell them apart.
He is MacEagon. The image is Moon Man. They are one and the same, spanning myriad unseen thresholds between life and death, darkness and light, love and loathing.
His forthcoming album, Meridian, is a conversation between these selves. It takes place in Braneworld, a storytelling container, digital realm, and forthcoming TV show where these things collide, manifesting in stories and characters both beautiful and terrible.
Moon Man
Moon Man was born and raised in O’fuego. His parents founded a circus, and when they passed, they left it to him. He does enough to keep it afloat, but mostly, he spends his time writing songs. For him, the circus is more a platform for his music than a rendezvous for the community, so his ringleading lacks zeal, and the other circus folk have all moved on.
All of them, that is, except three elephant-like creatures called sicko-phants. Their names are Tertius, Tumpsey, and Tom Bain, and they believe in Moon Man – they even provide the brass in his band. All four live together in an old converted barn, barely spacious enough for them plus the network of rickety gears and pulleys that lift the circus tent into place.
The outfit is powered by a waterwheel on the Palintosh, an estuary that flows through the property. And while the sicko-phants tend to the work, Moon Man sails his dinghy out to sea, seeking perspective while trying to channel the original song. Because more than anything, he wants to be known. Once they hear me, he thinks, the world will finally understand.
Moon Man is our entry point into Braneworld.
other projects + releases
transom
folk
