Today I got the kind of notification that makes a girl stop mid-scroll, blink twice, and whisper “no way” into the cosmos.
Cosmic Rodeo Queen (Juno’s Version) just crossed 5,000 plays in the U.S. on Apple Music — and baby, for an indie California eGirl with a cosmic cowgirl heart and a Wyoming zip code, that feels like striking glitter oil in the desert.
When I recorded this song, I didn’t know if anyone would understand it.
Space Country Trap wasn’t a genre. Hell, I made it up because it was the only sound that matched my life equal parts heartbreak, neon twilight, dusty roads, digital stardust, physics, faith, rodeo energy, eGirl packaging, and California wildness.
And now it’s out there. And you — YES YOU — played it five thousand times.
Five. Thousand. 5K real ears. 5K tiny universes where this song lived for three minutes and some change. 5K reminders that this dream of mine actually has wings (and spurs).
I know I’m supposed to act all cool and mysterious and industry-brained but babe… I’m not built like that. I’m built like a girl who spent half her life fighting to be heard and the other half trying to stay alive long enough to sing about it.
So tonight, I’m just grateful. Grateful and loud.
To everyone who streamed it in their car, in their headphones, at work, in bed, during a cry, during a glow-up, on a treadmill, while gaming, while cooking, while daydreaming — thank you.
To my tiny team (me + DJ Wet CupCake + my multiverse of Paladins) — thank you.
To California for birthing this heatwave of a sound. To Wyoming for giving me the quiet to write it. To the universe for letting me live long enough to be a Cosmic Rodeo Queen in the first place.
1. The thing he doesn’t understand: addressable audience
He hit me with “there are 8.2 billion people!!” like that number has anything to do with who’s actually in the Battlefield / CoD pool.
Step 1 – Humans on Earth
Best current estimates put the world population at about 8.2 billion people in 2024–2025.
Cool. That’s literally all humans – babies, elders, people without electricity, people who’ve never seen a controller in their life.
Step 2 – People who can even be online
At the start of 2025, roughly five and a half billion people use the internet, around two-thirds of humanity. That still leaves around 2.6 billion people offline.
So right away:
8.2B humans → ~5.6B with internet → 2.6B people who literally cannot queue into a Battlefield or CoD lobby.
His “everyone on Earth” logic dies before you even open Steam.
2. How many people actually play video games in 2025?
Industry reports converge on about 3.3 billion active gamers worldwide in 2024–2025 – roughly 40% of the human race.
So:
~8.2B humans ~5.6B internet users ~3.3B people who play any kind of game, including: Mobile match-3 Word games Sports, racing, farming, gacha, rhythm, cozy games, etc.
Already, more than half of humanity is out. My original point – that the “hardcore FPS bros” are a tiny minority – is directionally correct.
3. Zooming in: shooters ≠ “all gamers”
The global games market pulled in somewhere around $180+ billion in 2024, with mobile as the biggest slice and PC/console sharing the rest.
Within that:
Shooter games are one genre, not the whole pie. On PC, shooters account for something like low-teens percent of PC gaming revenue – a top segment, but still just a segment. Separate analyses peg the global shooter-games market in the tens of billions per year—substantial, but still only a subset of all games.
Even if we’re extremely generous and pretend shooter revenue maps cleanly to shooter players (it doesn’t), we’re still talking about a fraction of that ~3.3B gamer pool.
A reasonable back-of-the-napkin:
If ~14–20% of gamer spending goes to shooters, then maybe something like 10–20% of gamers are “shooter regulars” (because people play multiple genres). That would be on the order of 300–600 million people maximum in the global “likes FPS” bucket.
Compare that to his “8.2 billion” flex. He’s off by at least one order of magnitude, probably two.
4. Battlefield 6 / CoD numbers in context
Now the fun part: the actual scale of these games compared to the planet.
Battlefield 6
Recent coverage of Battlefield 6’s launch puts:
The open beta peak on Steam somewhere in the hundreds of thousands of concurrent players (around the half-million mark). The official launch peak on Steam at around three-quarters of a million concurrents, one of EA’s biggest PC launches ever.
Now set that next to 3.3 billion gamers worldwide:
Those big Steam peaks represent on the order of 0.01–0.02% of all gamers at one time.
As a share of all humans (8.2B), you’re talking about less than one hundredth of one percent of the species.
My “same half a million people bouncing between games” description is not just snark – it’s eerily close to how these launches actually look in the wild.
Call of Duty for comparison
Call of Duty lives across Battle.net, consoles, Game Pass, Steam, etc., but PC tracking frequently shows concurrent counts in the mid-hundreds of thousands on big days—same ballpark as Battlefield 6’s biggest moments.
So in practice:
We’re talking about the same rough few-hundred-thousand to low-millions of very engaged FPS people cycling through CoD, Battlefield, and whatever else launches that quarter, plus tourists and weekend warriors.
On a planet of 8.2B humans and 3.3B gamers… that shooter pond is tiny.
5. Why his argument is statistically trash
Here’s the logic problem in meme-friendly form.
1. He’s using the wrong denominator.
He quotes the entire human population (8.2B) like every person:
Owns gaming hardware Has stable internet Has disposable income for $70 AAA titles Actually wants to play online FPS games
That’s like saying, “There are 8.2B humans, therefore every band can sell 8.2B concert tickets.” The number is big; the logic is small.
2. He ignores the digital divide.
Roughly 2.6 billion people remain offline.
Those folks are not on Reddit arguing about Battlefield vs. CoD. They’re dealing with real-world things like infrastructure, food, water, and basic connectivity. Treating them as hypothetical Battlefield players is both disrespectful and mathematically absurd.
3. He conflates “plays any game” with “plays online FPS.”
We’ve already seen:
About 3.3B people play games at all. Mobile is the dominant platform worldwide. Shooters are one large but limited genre, not the whole medium, and they’re a minority slice of revenue.
Treating “people who raid in MMOs, farm in Stardew, or play Genshin on their phone” as the same as “people grinding ranked in Battlefield” is just lazy categorization.
4. He ignores how small even massive games look at planetary scale.
Battlefield 6 smashing hundreds of thousands of concurrent players on Steam is a huge win for EA and for the franchise. Nobody’s denying that.
But zoom out:
It’s a rounding error of humanity. It’s a tiny fraction of the global gamer base.
It’s a very loud, very passionate micro-subculture—not the entire human experience.
In other words:
He’s not “doing statistics.”
He’s doing numerology with big numbers because they look impressive in a comment box.
6. What I could of should have would have replied if I was super smart.
You’re confusing “all humans alive” with “people who are actually in the Battlefield/CoD pond,” which is exactly why I told you to take a stats class.
Quick reality check:
– The world has ~8.2 billion people.
– Only about 5.6 billion even use the internet; around 2.6 billion people are offline.
– Of those online, about 3.3 billion play any kind of video game – including mobile puzzle games and Candy Crush.
– The shooter genre is just one slice of that market, maybe a low-teens percentage of PC revenue and a fraction of overall game spending.
When Battlefield 6 blew up, Steam peaks were in the mid-hundreds of thousands to around three-quarters of a million concurrent players. Relative to the ~3.3B gamers on Earth, that’s roughly 0.01–0.02% of global players online at once – and less than 0.01% of total humans.
So yes: in practice, we’re talking about the same tiny hardcore shooter crowd of a few hundred thousand to maybe low-millions bouncing between CoD, Battlefield, and whatever else drops this quarter. Calling that “the same half-million people” is actually closer to reality than pretending all 8.2 billion humans are lining up to argue about TTK in a Battlefield 6 Facebook Page.
If you want to argue about scale, use the right denominator. Otherwise you’re just doing numerology with big numbers because they look impressive.
Closing thoughts from The ((Mercy Main btw;) eGirl with a calculator
Video games are huge.
The industry is massive.
But scale has structure:
World population People with internet People who game People who play shooters People who are active in this specific FPS right now
Once you respect that ladder, it becomes obvious that our beloved shooter communities are more like small towns than entire countries.
So the next time someone waves the full human population in your face to “win” an argument about Battlefield vs. CoD, feel free to remind them:
“Normie, there might be 8.2 billion people on Earth, but only about half a million of us are in this lobby getting spawn-camped with you.”
With All My Love
Jade Ann Byrne (( Seasons 1 Battle mercy, Father to Juno, and all the best operators in call of duty black ops six ;))
Post Script
This you’re hot shit? Have a lot of strong opinions? Have the courage to tell the developers what you really think?
I get $25 if your ass lands in a seat ((digital or physical in person focus group))
You make $250 -$XXXX depending on the project. No fakers. No posers. Just Share your real feelings to the questions. Be the voice of change in triple A titles. Casual to Hardcore gamers all encouraged to apply. All skill levels and experiences. Including idiots.
Not the bootleg, not the clone, not the decade-late cosplay of my life’s work—this is the real Jade Ann Byrne, broadcasting in real time from a thousand lifetimes of service industry shifts, late-night LANs, busted knuckles, bareback broncs, and neon-lit loading screens.
This channel is my control room, my church basement, my truck stop diner at 3AM, my backstage pass, my crisis command tent, my digital rodeo arena. Expect gameplay, chaos, counseling, giggles, tech support, lore drops, union energy, working-class glamour, and the occasional holy intervention when your settings—or your situationship—are cursed.
No AI stand-in. No rented personality. Just me. If you know, you know.
Open it. Bookmark it. Tab it next to your emails and your bills. When you need a paladin, a feral big sister, a hypewoman, or a calm voice at 2:17 AM—you’ll know where to click.
I saw that “my failsona” meme and for half a second I was like,
“Yeah ok, mood.”
Chronically online? Check.
Messy sleep schedule? Check.
Some form of alphabet soup brain? Obviously.
But then I tried to draw my own version and accidentally made… a competent, unionized celestial being with great eyeliner and too many certifications. So either I did it wrong, or the bit’s over.
Spoiler: I did not correct it.
My “failsona” came out looking like this tiny overpowered chibi Paladin with a halo pinned on sideways, thigh highs, combat boots, and a to-do list that reads like a CVS receipt: contractor, water operator, clergy, camgirl, eSports gremlin, nonprofit goblin, auntie to lost girls, disaster responder, actual mom, and part-time emotional support cryptid to the entire internet.
We labeled her like the meme, but something glitched:
“Chronically iconic”
“Technically feral, legally an LLC”
“ADHD but uses it as a GPU”
“Weaponized empathy”
“Can rebuild your website, your irrigation, & your self-esteem”
“Lore too deep to reboot”
“Walks into a room → becomes main quest”
And yes, I duplicated traits. Multiple times.
On purpose and by accident.
Because that’s how I actually am.
You don’t just have “secretly excited 24/7” once.
You have it in layers: for your art, your kids, your girls, your guild, your partners, your survivors, your brands, your dumb little side quests, your next haircut, your next protest, your next casserole, your next patch notes.
Redundancy is a feature. Ask any engineer. Ask any trauma survivor. Ask any woman who had to become her own raid boss.
The internet sells you this fantasy that you’re supposed to be:
broken enough to be relatable healed enough to be marketable humble enough to be safe hot enough to be clickable
So here’s my official statement:
My failsona fails at failing.
She is tired, glitchy, overclocked, makes questionable choices with bangs, forgets to drink water, trauma info-dumps to the wrong people, trusts the unworthy, forgives too fast, rage-cleans at midnight, and over-explains everything (hi 🖐).
But she’s also:
still here. still kind. still funny. still building. still dangerous to anyone who profits off other people’s pain.
If that’s a fail, then stamp FAILSONA on my forehead like a limited edition holo foil and hang me in the gallery.
This series on Art By JadeAnnByrne.com is exactly that: screenshots of my “errors,” doodles of my supposed flaws, overlaid with the uncomfortable truth that most of these are just misnamed powers.
Stay tuned. I’m turning every red flag they pinned on me into a sticker pack.
🎤 by Jade Ann Byrne | 🌌 Eat My Cake Records | 🎸 Space Country Trap Anthem
📀 Lyrics:
Verse 1:
They put a John Deere in my CAPTCHA, ain't that kinda wild? Green and yellow tractor tryin' to fit through the Turnstile Cloudflare spinnin' on my screen, it’s a digital rodeo Clickin' on them squares like I’m wranglin' in a UFO
Chorus:
It's too wide for the gate, but it knows what I like, Those fields of the internet, rollin' through the satellites. Google's got my taste down, knowin' how to test my vibe, Tractors in the CAPTCHA, space country on the drive.
Verse 2:
It’s a moonlit interstellar farm, satellites align, Triple Starbeam in the sky, them Starlinks are mine, They know I’m feelin' earthly, but I’m reachin' outta time, Binaries buzzin', hayfields up in binary code, Clouds ain't just above us, big dabs keep 'em in overload.
Chorus:
It's too wide for the gate, but it knows what I like, Clicking squares like cowboy boots stampin' down at midnight, John Deere's got that Smart System, algorithms ridin' free, Space-country CAPTCHA, feels like it’s just testin' me.
Verse 3:
My fingers scrollin' to the beat, like pickin' on guitar strings, Ridin' through the data streams, like outlaw songs in metal rings, Cloudflare's doin' the shuffle, it’s a Turnstile full of bits, They hit me with the tractor, must know I'm country at my wits. Got a data farm full of John Deeres, plowin' through the clicks, Cultivatin' the bandwidth, while the signal light blinks.
Chorus:
It’s too wide for the gate, but it’s tappin' to my style, Cyber ranchin', late at night, with algorithms versatile. I’m pluckin' out them tractors, uploadin' beats on Mars, Captcha-lassoed my John Deere, now we’re dancin' with the stars.
Verse 4:
In the middle of the Turnstile, I saw the countryside swing, Rows of code like crops laid out, and the satellites sing. Farmin' data like hay bales, stackin' them bits up high, Patchin' up my firewalls like fences in July. Buzzin' on the pharmaceuticals, Staterra keeps me in line, Clouds rollin' from the THC, I'm floatin' past the borderline. They think they can keep me stuck in squares that shine so bright, But I’m drivin' that Deere through the firewalls, dancin' into night.
Chorus (Final):
It’s too wide for the gate, but it knows what I like, Ridin' shotgun with data winds, algorithmic country nights, I’m capturin' their tractors, lettin' them know I’m wild and free, Turnstiles can’t hold me down, I’m decryptin' my destiny.
Eat My Cake Records Forecasts a Brutal California Summer — and I’m Bringing the Space Country Trap Heat
Originally written by Jade Ann Byrne, Eat My Cake Record
California summers have always had a pulse — a shimmer, a heat haze, a little bit of danger, and a whole lot of attitude. But this year? Oh honey… this summer isn’t creeping in. It’s kicking the door down in rhinestone boots.
And Eat My Cake Records has the soundtrack locked, loaded, and glitter-polished.
When PRLog picked up the story — “Eat My Cake Records Forecasts Brutal Summer in California feat. Jade Ann Byrne – Space Country Trap” — it felt like the universe finally said out loud what my bones had been humming for months: This is a summer meant for transformation, rebellion, heatwaves, heartbreak, rodeos, resurrection, good hair days, bad decisions, and music that sounds like kissing lightning.
Space. Country. Trap. California. Me. Us. All of it.
This label was never built to play it safe. Eat My Cake Records was built for girls with dusty boots and chrome nails, boys with soft hearts and loud headphones, DMV line philosophers, nighttime drivers watching the palm trees blur, and everyone who ever learned how to survive by singing to themselves on the walk home.
And this summer’s music? It’s exactly that — survival, seduction, sunshine, and scorch marks. A heatwave you can dance inside.
Why This Summer Matters
We’re stepping into a season where California is shedding old skin in real time. More fire warnings, more cracked desert earth, hotter nights, and stranger sunsets. But also? More art. More grit. More glow. More reinvention.
My music comes from that — the weird in-between place where danger meets beauty, where chaos turns into melody, where a girl can be a cosmic cowgirl by morning and a digital paladin by nightfall.
Space Country Trap wasn’t supposed to exist. But neither was I, not in the way I am now — layered, strange, glittery, road-tested, and divinely stubborn.
So I made the sound that matched my life: steel guitar constellations, trap drums echoing in neon canyons, rodeo swagger orbiting a synth starship.
A Brutal Summer Needs a Beautiful Soundtrack
If this summer is truly going to be as extreme as forecasters predict — brutally hot, brutally honest, brutally transformative — then let the soundtrack be equally feral and equally soft.
Let it be Cosmic Rodeo Queen. Let it be Pickin’ Strummin’ Pluckin’ Uploadin’. Let it be everything I’ve been working toward under Eat My Cake Records.
Let it be the sound of a woman who refuses to break, who learned to ride the heatwave instead.
The Forecast? Simple.
A brutal summer. A cosmic anthem. A rodeo at the edge of the universe. And a label — my label — that isn’t scared of the fire.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for listening. Thank you for riding into the heat with me, glitter on your cheeks and courage in your chest.
Long live Eat My Cake Records. Long live the Rodeo Queens. Long live California — even when she burns.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are.
When the blazing sun is gone, When the nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are.
Then the traveler in the dark, Thanks you for your tiny spark, They could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are.
In the dark blue sky you keep, And through my windows peep, For you never shut your eye, Till the sun is in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are.
As your bright and tiny spark, Lights the traveler in the dark,— Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are.
