MFT: AMG Twinz Remember Meeting And Touring With Future
For rising rap duo AMG Twinz, the pivotal moment of meeting Southern rap icon Future and then embarking on a tour alongside him is a memory that none of us would be quick to forget. Thankfully, they found some time in-between putting on show-stopping performances — they made us believers this year at Birthday Bash ATL! — to share that fateful meeting with Pluto for this week's 'My First Time.'
RELATED: My First Time – Egypt Sherrod Recalls First Big Break From Cathy Hughes
Meeting Future happened almost serendipitously. When they first crossed paths, it wasn't just an introduction—it felt like a moment of validation. The Twinz described being in awe of the artist they had looked up to for years, someone whose music had soundtracked their own dreams. The energy in the room was electric as they realized this wasn't just a meeting—it was an opportunity.
Touring turned out to be an eye-opening experience as well. They quickly learned the realities of putting on a show night after night, the highs of performing, and the hard work that happens behind the scenes. These lessons fueled their growth, forcing them to push their limits and discover new dimensions of their talent.
Reflecting on those moments, the AMG Twinz know those firsts marked the beginning of something bigger than they had imagined. And they're just getting started.
The article 'MFT: AMG Twinz Remember Meeting And Touring With Future' was created with the help of Jasper.AI
SEE ALSO
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Indianapolis Star
7 hours ago
- Indianapolis Star
Popular fried chicken, country music spot once home to the Ice House will close this fall
After seven tumultuous years that saw multiple owners, hundreds of guitar-picking musicians and a whole lot of fried chicken, Duke's will close its doors for good this fall. The popular southside restaurant and honky-tonk bar, which in 2018 opened in the venue that the beloved Ice House bar occupied from 1983-2017, recently announced on social media that its last day of business will be Nov. 22. In posts to Facebook and Instagram, Duke's staff cited local competition, wear and tear on the bar's storied building and general economic challenges for the decision to "end things on our own terms" rather than close unexpectedly. "As a community we've mourned far too many sudden losses and we want to honor this magical space by giving y'all as much time as possible to say good-bye," the post read. Duke's began with the vision of Beech Grove native and onetime Sun King Brewing production manager Dustin Boyer, known to friends simply as D. In January 2018 Boyer told IndyStar he had had a vision for a Southern-inspired road house and live music venue for 12 years before he bought the spacious building at 2352 S. West St. Boyer named his passion project for his late grandfather, Hayes "Duke" Boyer. Duke's quickly found a following thanks to its acclaimed fried chicken and regular live music performances. But the popular haunt suffered its first major loss just three years later when Boyer died at age 40 on April 28, 2021. Boyer's close friend and financial partner Andy Fagg stepped in with a handful of employee-operators to run Duke's until late 2023, when Patrick Kennedy purchased the restaurant. In its farewell, Duke's staff invited customers to come make a few last memories at the restaurant and thanked the Indianapolis community for the last seven years. "It has been a tremendous honor and truly the joy of our lives to serve Indianapolis," the post read, "bringing independent country and western music artists to eager audiences, serving the best damn fried chicken and carrying the torch D lit."
Fox News
13 hours ago
- Fox News
Southern sorority girls put through 'psychological warfare' in cutthroat Bama Rush recruitment: coach
Sorority recruitment at the University of Alabama, better known as "Bama Rush," has become a viral cultural moment, with thousands watching to see which houses incoming freshmen join. It's a week defined by carefully coordinated outfits, whirlwind conversations, and now, millions of TikTok views. While rush has always been a high-stakes tradition in the South, the social media age has turned it into a viral spectacle. Videos from the University of Alabama's sorority rush week went viral on TikTok in 2021. The #bamarush and #alabamarush hashtags on TikTok have attracted millions of views during the past few years and continue to do so. "It's emotional boot camp. It's psychological warfare," Brandis Bradley, a sorority coach, told PEOPLE of the process of primary recruitment. "And their frontal lobes aren't even fully developed." For two members of Zeta Tau Alpha — senior Kylan Darnell and junior Kaiden Kilpatrick — the reality of Greek life is personal and powerful after the two women harnessed social media to attract thousands of viewers to their pages. Darnell didn't grow up with Southern sorority culture. The reigning Miss Ohio Teen USA at the time, she arrived at Alabama from a small town with little knowledge of what rush even entailed. "I was the first person from my high school to go to Alabama," Darnell told Fox News Digital. "I had no idea about the culture, and honestly, I felt clueless. When I got to orientation and other girls started talking about rush, I had to ask, 'What is that?'" That same night, she got her first real taste of what sorority life looked like when a group of girls and their mothers took her down Sorority Row. She was instantly hooked. "I called my mom and said, 'Mother, I have to try to be in a sorority,'" she recalled. "But my parents weren't on board at first. My mom said no. My dad said, 'We're not paying for friends.'" "He told me, 'You're the most outgoing girl we know, you'll be fine without it.' But I kept pushing. Daddy listened to his little princess," she added with a laugh. "Eventually, I talked them into it." A spontaneous TikTok she made on the first day of recruitment, originally sent to her family's text message group chat to explain the process to her family, went viral while she was still in orientation. Within hours, her life changed. "That first video was supposed to be a video diary for my family," she said. "But I posted it on TikTok, and when I came back from convocation, my phone had blown up. I couldn't believe it." Her audience grew overnight. "After that, my life completely changed," she said. "I became financially independent and was able to pay for the rest of college through TikTok. It launched my platform, and gave me a voice." But that platform came with a price. Darnell, now with 1.2 million followers and over 82 million likes, said the scrutiny became overwhelming. "It's been fun and I wouldn't trade it, but it's also been really hard to navigate college while being under a microscope," she said. "People forget that we're real people." Kaiden Kilpatrick, who joined Zeta in 2023 and now has over 228,000 TikTok followers of her own, echoed that sentiment, but said social media also brought access. "It's helping more than anything, but it creates a 'highlight reel,'" Kilpatrick told Fox News Digital. "Recruitment is so much more than TikTok trends. It's about finding people who push you to grow. The challenge is reminding everyone there's real connection and purpose behind all the aesthetics." Darnell agreed, and this year, she chose to take a step back. "I didn't want to keep posting just for views," she said. "When my younger sister started rushing, the comments about her were brutal. I needed to protect my peace." She also acknowledged how quickly things can turn toxic. "The comments start coming in, and suddenly it's not fun anymore. It used to be something I was proud to show. But people began making assumptions about my sorority or my sister, and it was exhausting." Both women shared the impact of the community of high achievers that their sorority has provided. "Leadership isn't just about holding a title," said Kilpatrick. "It's about showing up for people on their worst days, not just their best. Loyalty isn't blind. It's choosing to have someone's back even when it's hard or inconvenient." For Darnell, an aspiring sports broadcaster, the value of Greek life showed up in one unforgettable moment when she was connected to renowned sports broadcaster Erin Andrews. "Right after I ran home to Zeta, I got a call from Erin Andrews. She's a Zeta too," she said. "She told me, 'Good job, little Kylan — I can't wait to see you fill my shoes.' That was surreal." Beyond the glamour, she said, the real value is in the way sororities support driven women. "People think it's all parties and outfits, but I've met some of the most motivated, career-focused women I know through my sorority," she said. "Being surrounded by girls who are also striving for something, it helped me push toward my dreams too." "It's more than social life. It's GPA standards, philanthropy, leadership training. My house emphasizes academics and it's full of girls who are future CEOs, doctors, broadcasters." Still, both women admit the future of RushTok is uncertain. With growing scrutiny, misconceptions, and pressure, they're not sure the next wave of college freshmen will document the process as openly. "It's getting to the point where I don't think girls will keep posting," Darnell said. "The negativity is too much. It used to be so fun, now it's stressful." "You have girls getting judged on what they wear, where they end up, and then complete strangers attack the sororities when things don't go the way they expected. That's not what this is about." Kilpatrick echoed the concern but expressed hope. "Instead of tearing girls down for being 'too much,'" she said, "we should be celebrating the fact that they're putting themselves out there in a high-pressure environment where it's way easier to hide." "At a school where tradition is everything," she added, "I see my role as honoring it, but also making sure it evolves with the women in it." At the University of Alabama, on Aug. 17 at Bryant-Denny Stadium in Tuscaloosa, is when thousands of students find out which sorority has accepted their membership bid.
San Francisco Chronicle
17 hours ago
- San Francisco Chronicle
Crazy Crab not quite sold on Valkyries' Violet, the Bay Area's newest mascot
Ducked into a dive bar in Dogpatch on Monday night, after the Golden State Valkyries ' game. Quick stop to wind down from all the excitement. Guess who I saw? You'll never guess. Crazy Crab! In the flesh, or whatever. Quoth the Golden State Valkyries: WNBA team's mascot is a raven named Violet You remember Crazy Crab, the San Francisco Giants ' mascot in 1984. A one-season wonder, or as one scribe put it, a one-season blunder. He was conceived as an anti-mascot, meant to satirize the mascot craze. Giants' fans were supposed to hate him, and they obliged. The only open seat at the bar was next to Crazy Crab, so I eased myself in. Funny I would run into him. I had just come from the unveiling of the newest Bay Area mascot, Violet, a 6-foot-tall raven dressed as a cheerleader. She made her debut at halftime. The crowd, primed by days of hoopla buildup, was enthusiastic. 'It's OK to smoke here?' I asked, breaking the ice. 'You a narc?' Crazy Crab shot back, re-freezing the ice. 'Don't tell me, it's bad for my health. Do I look like Jack LaLanne? I'll tell you what's bad for your health: Eating crab. We're bottom feeders, full of toxins. Especially nicotine.' 'Say,' I said, 'I don't mean to bother you. . .' 'Too late,' he shot back. I continued: 'But I was a big fan of yours back in '84. I tried to get your autograph after a game as you were driving out of the players' lot. You stole my pen and drove off, laughing.' 'Glory days,' Crazy said, sarcastically. 'You know the Giants hired me to be obnoxious and offensive, right? So I worked my ass off to develop bad habits. Like this (holding up his cigarette). I mastered the art of rude. Barry Bonds studied under me. You're lucky I didn't make fun of your shirt.' 'You did!' I said. He glanced at my shirt and rolled his eyes, which were on the ends of those two stalk things sticking out of his head. He turned back to the TV above the bar, watching the Valkyries' postgame show, all about their 74-57 win over the Connecticut Sun. 'Did you watch the game?' I inquired. He sighed and said, 'That's why I'm here. I heard about the new mascot. Had to check her out. Her? It? Pronouns confuse me. Nouns confuse me. I'm a crab, not a rocket linguist.' 'What do you think? This new mascot, is she the real deal?' Drag on cig. Long pause. Exhale. 'Violet. That's her name, right, the new kid?' 'Yep, Violet.' 'Allow me to be a pain in the ass. It's my jam. The Valkyries 'adopt' this bird, put her in a basketball outfit, and she doesn't know what a basketball is? She can't make a layup? Not a dunk, a layup. Look, I'm a crab, I can make a layup.' 'She can dance a little, and do handsprings,' I said. Crazy Crab looked at me and shook his head. 'There was a lot of potential here,' he said, sadly. 'Ravens have a deep mystique in Norse mythology, as I'm sure you know. They worked closely on the battlefield with the Valkyries, they were the eyes and ears of the god Odin. In Poe's famous poem, the raven comes from 'the Night's Plutonian shore,' the underworld. This Violet chick comes from cheerleading camp.' 'It's just supposed to be a fun mascot,' I said. 'You know, do goofy stuff, grab popcorn from fans, distract opponents when they're shooting free throws.' 'Oh, I get it,' Crazy said. 'But they threw me off with the big cosmic buildup. Had me expecting power, strength, valor. Not cartwheels.' Crazy knocked back his beer and signaled to the barkeep for another. 'I'm a tough critic,' he said. 'You can't just waltz into a ballgame and become queen of the ball. If you want to crown her ass, then crown her ass. I'm going to wait and see. You a jazz fan, sport?' 'Yeah, sort of,' I said. 'Jazz musicians have a saying, when they're talking about a new cat on the scene. They ask, 'Sure he can play, but does he have anything to say? ' Does this Violet have anything to say?' This was getting deeper than I expected. I felt like I was back in my college dorm, the weed kicking in. 'What does any mascot have to say, Crazy Crab? What does Lou Seal have to say?' 'Lou Seal? First of all, his real name is Lewis Schnukelman. Decent fellow. But would the Giants trade him for a guy who can make contact with two strikes and a runner on third? Truth is, the only great mascot was the San Diego Chicken. Nobody could pee on an umpire's leg like that dude. The rest of us labor in his shadow — Lou, Sourdough Sam, the Stanford tree, Stomper — may he rest in peace.' 'Maybe Violet will bloom, so to speak,' I said. 'What advice would you give her if you happened to run into her?' Crazy Crab blew out a cloud of smoke and snorted. 'Run into her where? At Safeway? I live under a rock. But if she asked me, I'd tell her, just be yourself. Be true to your craft. And ask that Janelle Salaün to show you how to shoot a freaking layup.' I nodded, and got up to leave. Crazy Crab grabbed a cocktail napkin and reached into a pocket. 'Hey kid, I've still got your pen. Want that autograph?'
