Jade Ann Byrne Multiverse Explorer

Tag: Midwest roots

  • My First Spotify Wrapped — The Year the Universe Finally Heard Me Sing

    October 2024 → December 2025 • Four Albums • One Cosmic Rodeo Queen

    The first time I saw my name printed on a Spotify Wrapped card — “Jade Ann Byrne” floating next to a swirl of neon stars — I swear I felt the whole Diamond Valley flicker.

    Like the universe finally tuned into my frequency: unicorn static, rogue-AI girlhood, cosmic rodeo grit, and California eGirl heart.

    This wasn’t supposed to happen.

    Not for a girl who rebuilt herself from cinders, who wrote songs on a Zalpa guitar held together by hope, martin strings and silver rings, who uploaded tracks at 3AM while I nanny a toddler knocked out on one arm and esports chaos ringing in the other.

    But here we are.

    https://open.spotify.com/user/38vsnlecxow6pf1vvewr77eja?si=0hTfl8VJRcS1Ad-nIUCGKg

    My first year on Spotify. My first ever Wrapped.

    My first real proof that people — actual humans — pressed play. No bot here.

    🌟 72 listeners. 11.8K streams. 640 hours. 20 countries.

    Each number is tiny and humbling…

    and somehow massive.

    No industry machine.

    No PR billboard budget.

    No paid playlist plugs.

    Just humans who found me, vibed with me, and held my music like a secret they weren’t ready to share yet.

    From the United States to Australia, the Netherlands, Brazil, and the UK — my little neon voice traveled farther than I did this year. 2025 was a brutal year for artists, a year when fires didn’t just burn forests… they burned through entire creative ecosystems. Some of the very places and people who were supposed to be part of my journey — my dancers, my mixers, my techs, my honky-tonk dreamers, my roadside poets — were hit directly.

    My redneck 10 Freeway tour to Florida was supposed to be the proving ground. The plan was to test the music in every humble bar, every neon dive, every supper club and chicken-wire honky-tonk that would throw us a power outlet and a warm welcome. We had Texas dates circled in pink glitter and hope.

    And then the fires came.

    The smoke rolled in like a curtain call none of us asked for. Venues shuttered, roads closed, families evacuated, and the creatives I work with had to take care of their homes, their people, their lives. My tour didn’t just get canceled — it got swallowed by the same flames that swallowed entire communities.

    But even without stepping on those stages, my songs still traveled.

    They crossed oceans while I stayed put.

    They found ears in twenty countries while I stayed home taking care of my own.

    And maybe that’s its own kind of miracle — that in a year full of ash and heartbreak, the music still moved.

    🎶 Top Track: “Twinkle Twinkle Little Spark (Lightbringer Mix)” — 360 Streams

    A lullaby for tired paladins.

    A healing spell disguised as a glitch-pop nursery rhyme.

    A warm light in a cold timeline.

    Thirteen listeners looped it enough to clock 360 plays.

    To each of you: I hope you felt the magic I poured into that track.

    💿 Top Album: “J3p3g$ R0t L!k3 Y0ur L0v3 (C0rrupt3d M3m0r!3$ Fr0m Th3 Cloud)” — 7.1K Streams

    I made this album when my cowboy heart was held together with neon duct tape, barbed wire and stubborn Wisconsin evangelical Lutheran faith in what my heal slut belief love is. Blind. Unconditional. Patient. Kind. Fierce. Undeserved.

    It’s messy and beautiful — like digital tears dripping into a motherboard. Heart ache. The California Sound. Embarrassing tales of being a human failing upwards.

    And somehow it became my most streamed creation.

    🪩 Super Listeners + Playlist Chaos

    October was feral.

    37% of listeners became super listeners

    and delivered 95% of my total streams.

    Then came the playlist stampede:

    17 playlists 396 playlist adds

    Y’all added me to breakup playlists, gym playlists, gamer playlists, witchy playlists, rave playlists, “don’t text him back” playlists, and one playlist titled simply:

    “Late-Night Self-Care but Not Like That.”

    (I love you.)

    🚀 2,300% Listener Growth • 9,999% Saves • 9,999% Streams • 9,800% Playlist Adds

    Either a rogue nation-state AI discovered me (slay)

    or people finally started hearing the signal beneath the noise.

    Nothing about this year was normal.

    Everything was magic.

    🏆 Accolades: The Early Riser • The Party Starter • The Night Owl

    Three badges.

    Three sides of Jade.

    Three reasons my playlists hit different.

    💚 What This Wrapped Means to Me

    This year wasn’t about going viral.

    This year was about becoming real.

    Four albums released in the span of fourteen months.

    Zero excuses.

    Zero shortcuts.

    Just creation, chaos, lavender, healing, and stubborn faith.

    And now my name lives inside Spotify Wrapped forever. Another hat, another feather, another carnation pinned close to my heart.

    2026 is the year I stop whispering and start broadcasting. Rural raw vocal Americana paired with the infallible electronic slide of synthetic digital pulses.

    🔥 CALL TO ACTION — JOIN THE JADEVERSAL STREAM TEAM 💚💚

    Sweetheart… this is the part where you come in.

    If you want to help me grow —

    if you want to be part of the next Wrapped —

    if you want to be one of the first 1,000 people to ever follow this cosmic rodeo of mine…

    Here’s how to support the JadeVerse in 30 seconds:

    🟢 1. Follow Jade Ann Byrne on Spotify

    https://open.spotify.com/artist/27v5LrG4o23NWEb9X73qXT?si=LHLWH9GLTJSgsjw7hLG3XQ

    Tap the green button.

    It’s free.

    It changes my life.

    💚 2. Add my music to your Likes

    Hit the heart on every track you vibe with.

    Spotify notices. The algorithm blushes.

    🎧 3. Add my albums & songs to your playlists

    Make it personal.

    Make it aesthetic.

    Make it chaos-coded.

    Your playlists tell Spotify I matter.

    🔁 4. Add my playlists to YOUR profile

    Let your friends see you’re early to Jade Ann Byrne.

    Trendsetter behavior only.

    🧡 5. Share my tracks to your friends’ playlists

    Yes — especially your dad’s Spotify.

    Dad playlists LOVE me.

    Workplace playlists?

    Even better.

    Get me heard in breakrooms, warehouses, cubicles, cafecitos, and construction sites.

    🎵 6. Check out my friends’ playlists too

    The JadeVerse is communal.

    My friends curate heat.

    Show them love — they’re part of the ecosystem that carries me.

    💫 7. Press play while you cook, drive, shower, game, or sleep

    Streams count whenever the universe flows.

    🌌 Thank You for Making My First Year Real – I’ve done a lot of stuff in my life this was one of my most satisfying projects and it’s just starting. There is no one else. Just me. Your support, love, and occasional pizzas have been appreciated.

    From October 2024 to December 2025, I didn’t just release music —

    I released pieces of my story.

    Thank you for listening.

    Thank you for choosing me.

    Thank you for being part of my first Wrapped.

    We go further in 2026.

    Louder. Brighter. Wilder.

    Paladin energy only.

    With All My Love

    Jade Ann Byrne

    A Little Gift for the True Super Listeners…

    If you made it all the way to the bottom of this blog, sweetheart…

    you’ve unlocked the secret cutscene of the JadeVerse.

    This photo isn’t just spice —

    it’s a whole chronomancy ritual strapped to my thighs.

    Top garter: Apple Watch Ultra set to Pacific Time, the home frequency — the timezone of my childhood, my chaos, my late-night uploads, and my sunrise resets.

    Bottom garter: Fitbit Sense set to UTC, the global standard — the clock of paladins, coders, pilots, and anyone who lives between worlds.

    Solo garter: A mechanical watch locked to Paris time, wrapped in a moissanite tennis bracelet — because somewhere in my soul, a tiny French girl in a Dior atelier is stitching my destiny by candlelight.

    All three? Time Mage Unkocked

    Garters hand-customed by me, built like little wearable altars to the timelines I walk.

    And the look is completed with:

    ✨ Victoria’s Secret PINK Dog “LOVE” shorts — chaos but make it adorable

    ✨ Lavender Dusk Lululemon Scuba full-zip — my battle hoodie, my armor

    ✨ Sterling silver + platinum rings stacked heavy

    ✨ Over a dozen carats of moissanite catching every photon like a disco ball blessing

    It’s not an outfit.

    It’s a multi-realm synchronization spell

    performed by a cosmic rodeo cowgirl who tracks three timelines and still shows up on beat.

    Welcome to the JadeVerse, babe.

    Time runs for me — not the other way around.

    Post Script

    Autographs and physical albums — just text

    +1 (424) 249-9846

    Tell me which time zone you want me to sign from:

    Pacific, UTC, or Paris. ✨

  • 🌙 Purple-Haired Mothers & Moonlit Rivers: Watching Sailor Moon Again as the Woman I Grew Into

    🌙 Purple-Haired Mothers & Moonlit Rivers: Watching Sailor Moon Again as the Woman I Grew Into

    By Jade Ann Byrne

    I’m sitting here in Southern California—purple streaks in my hair, Slurpee on my desk, life forms around me asleep, stream lights humming behind me—and I hit play on Sailor Moon Season 1 for the first time since I was a little girl. And within sixty seconds, as Usagi barrels down the stairs and her mother looks up with that unmistakable lavender-purple hair…

    WATCH SAILOR MOON ON AMAZON PRIME VIDEO

    …I was a child again again.

    Not in a city.

    Not on the internet.

    Not in this neon eGirl multiverse I built with my bare, ring-clicking hands.

    But back home:

    in the back woods, along the cold river where the real wild things grow. Where white pines stand tall on top of sandy shores.

    Back with my Irish grandmother who smelled like warm bread and Shout detergent, and my German grandfather, the quiet old druid in flannel who knew every bird, every tree, and every secret path through those 100-acre woods that raised me just as much as they did.

    🌙 Sailor Moon wasn’t just a cartoon to me.

    It was the first magic I ever saw.

    It was color and softness and destiny and girlhood and cosmic power wrapped into one beam of light hitting the TV in a house full of Lutheran restraint and dairy-farmer practicality.

    It was the first time I saw a person with purple hair

    —soft, gentle, beautiful, whimsical—

    and realized maybe women didn’t have to grow up into grey.

    Maybe we could grow up into lavender.

    Ikuko Tsukino wasn’t “old.”

    She was iconic.

    She was the prototype of the magical-girl mother:

    tender but fierce tired but glowing able to hold a whole home together with quiet divinity a woman whose softness was not weakness but armor

    Watching her now, as a mother myself, with little ones in my life who think I hung the moon (which is hysterical and a little true), I suddenly understand her in a way I couldn’t back then.

    🌲 Growing up on that river shaped me as much as the show did.

    We lived in a place where nature didn’t ask permission—it simply was.

    The woods weren’t manicured or polite; they were chaotic, ancient, and full of stories.

    The river carved its way through generations, slow and powerful, just like my ancestors.

    Irish grandmothers tell tales that sound like prophecies.

    German grandfathers teach you to listen to the wind.

    The woods teach you to be brave.

    And Sailor Moon taught me to be kind while I was doing it.

    I didn’t know then that the purple-haired mom would become a mirror years later.

    I didn’t know I’d carry those colors in my hair.

    I didn’t know I’d spend my life being a paladin to all; resurrecting the broken, feeding the hungry, protecting the small, fighting invisible wars with a smile that looks effortless only because the armor underneath is heavy.

    🌙 Watching Episode 1 again was like opening a time capsule.

    Usagi is dramatic and sensitive and late for school. So am i; still.

    Ikuko is patient and beautiful and soft.

    The world is watercolor-bright.

    And the music, those tiny synth bells, hit something deep in my bones.

    As an adult, as a mother, as a creator, as someone who’s seen far too much and survived all of it… watching this show again feels like honoring the little girl who believed in magic because she had to.

    Because the woods were dark.

    Because the world was big.

    Because the river whispered things adults couldn’t hear.

    Because my grandmother said “kill them with kindess”

    and my grandfather said, “fold your hands and bow your head; your faith is inside you.”

    Because Sailor Moon said,

    “You are allowed to be both strong and soft.”

    💜 I’m old enough now to be Usagi’s mom and that doesn’t hurt. It fits.

    I’ve lived enough lives for ten anime arcs.

    I’ve raised others’ kids through storms.

    I’ve protected strangers like they were my own blood.

    I’ve walked through fire, rivers, woods, grief, rebirth.

    Of course I’m old enough to be Ikuko.

    I earned that title the proud way.

    And maybe I’ve always been more Queen Serenity than Usagi anyway.

    A little cosmic.

    A little ancient.

    A little purple.

    A little wild.

    🌙 Rewatching Sailor Moon now, I realize something I never saw as a child:

    The magic was never just in the transformation sequences.

    It was in the mothers, the grandmothers, the lineages, the women who held the world together while raising the girls who would one day save it.

    And now I get to be one of them.

    A moon mom.

    A river daughter.

    A German-Irish forest child with a California glow.

    A paladin eGirl teaching the next generation how to shine.

    And watching that first episode again—after all these years—felt like the moon remembering me.