Richard Lamar’s debut single, Too Busy, isn’t just a song—it’s a reckoning. Born from a moment of piercing clarity at his daughter’s wedding, the track lays bare the emotional cost of chasing provision at the expense of presence. Lamar, a songwriter long tucked behind the curtain, steps into the light with a stripped-down acoustic reflection that doesn’t ask for attention—it earns it. Inspired by the haunting legacy of Cats in the Cradle, Lamar confronts his own role as the father who wasn’t there, crafting a narrative that’s both deeply personal and heartbreakingly relatable. Released just ahead of Father’s Day, Too Busy is less a debut and more a confessional booth.
The production is spare by design—acoustic guitar, a dusting of grit, and Lamar’s voice, raw and unfiltered. There’s no glossy coating or radio polish to distract from the message. That’s the point. The lyrics do the heavy lifting, and the minimalist arrangement gives them room to land. Every line carries the weight of years spent trying to make a living, only to realize too late what was left behind. It’s folk at heart, with a modern singer-songwriter sensibility that makes it feel like a letter slipped under your door. Too Busy doesn’t tug at your heart—it just quietly hands it back to you, bruised.
Lamar didn’t arrive at this moment via a traditional path. As a self-proclaimed songwriter first, he’s leaned on digital platforms like Fiverr and Musiversal to bring his ideas to life. For Too Busy, he collaborated with an Italian guitarist who instinctively understood the song’s emotional DNA. “It’s amazing how music connects people across the world,” Lamar says. It wasn’t easy. Translating something so vulnerable into a finished track took patience, communication, and trust. But it worked. And in doing so, Lamar found not just a sound, but a shared language—proof that emotion travels, no matter the bandwidth.
The emotional core of Too Busy lands hardest in its quietest moment: the verse about Lamar’s daughter on her wedding day. “She wore white, looked perfect that night”, he sings. What lingers is what’s left unsaid—he wasn’t the one walking her down the aisle. That kind of regret doesn’t need a crescendo. It just needs space. And Lamar gives it that. The pain isn’t dramatized; it’s just… there. For any parent who’s missed moments, for any child who’s waited too long, that line becomes a mirror. And it’s in that mirror that Too Busy finds its voice.
Lamar’s bond with his audience is slowly forming, but he’s building it on intention, not algorithms. He encourages listeners to really listen—headphones on, no scrolling. “If you’re a parent, or a son or daughter with a complicated relationship, it might hit close to home,” he says. This is music for late nights, long drives, and quiet reckoning. On platforms like Spotify, where his presence is growing, Lamar’s hope isn’t to go viral—it’s to go honest. “If it connects with even one person, it’s done its job.” That’s not marketing speak. It’s mission.
With a full catalog already taking shape, Lamar’s just getting started. Future songs will carry some of the same emotional depth, while others promise to bring some light. “I want every release to reflect a piece of who I am,” he says. Each track is a chapter, not just a product. Over the next year, Lamar’s focus is simple: take his time, stay true, and share stories that matter. If that brings recognition, great. If it brings one more person into the conversation, even better.
Too Busy isn’t just a debut—it’s a declaration. A quiet, fearless first step toward something real. “This song is a piece of my story I never thought I’d be brave enough to share,” Lamar admits. But he shared it anyway. And in doing so, he’s offered not just a song, but a space—for anyone carrying their own regrets, their own missed moments, to feel a little less alone. It’s not the volume of the voice that matters. It’s the truth behind it.