Aug 19, 2025 4 min read

Coley Releases “Love is My Religion” Music Video Featuring Neurodiverse Rock Band Solar Flair

I didn’t expect to cry at GeckoFest.

Didn’t even know what it was. Just another Gulfport block party in 2022. But under this tent, there was a band. No big stage. No label push. Just raw, electric soul. And they tore the roof off the place—without even needing one.

That was the first time I saw Solar Flair.

They’re a band of artists with disabilities—autism, Down syndrome, brain injury—you name it.

But if that’s all you hear, you’re missing the point. These aren’t performers for pity. These are full-blown rockstars.

Lauren Rittenhouse is their drummer. She has severe hearing loss. She has Down syndrome. And she is fierce. Confident, stylish, a rhythmic force with a punk rock edge and no time for sugarcoating.

Lauren calls me out when I pitch an idea she doesn’t like. “Wack.” she says. Doesn’t hesitate. I love her for it. In a business full of people who say yes to your face and no behind your back, Lauren just tells you what’s up. That’s punk rock. That’s real.

Max Pankey, the frontman, is the Rainman of Rock. The human jukebox. Killer voice. Lightning instinct on guitar. And if you name a classic rock song, he’ll give you the year, the lyrics, you name it.

And it’s not just them—it’s the whole crew. This band is powered by ProjectFree, a Gulfport-based nonprofit run by longtime civil rights activists and family members Sharon Vanderline, her brother Tony Costanzo, and sister Kim Constanzo - Dummer Lauren’s mother, uncle, and aunt. Kim’s partner, the late activist Rosemary Dempsey also served as President of ProjectFREE.

And they don’t treat these artists like they’re broken or fragile or in need of fixing. They treat them like musicians. Like professionals. Like the artists they are. They run tighter rehearsals than half the major label acts I’ve worked with. They text like politicians, plan like producers, hustle like indie bookers. It’s a damn machine—powered by love, by purpose, by belief in the magic of diverse people society so often overlooks.

I’ll never forget the first day I met them. I walked in ready to clean toilets if that’s what it took to be of service—and the first thing they said to me was, “We want to play the White House someday.” No hesitation. No small talk. Just big vision. Bigger than most industry pros I know. And they meant it. I believed them.

So when we got together and decided to do a cover of Ziggy Marley’s Love Is My Religion for the Jebus Movie, it wasn’t some charity gig. It was a mission. We rehearsed, teamed up with St. Pete legend Shevonne (also a star in the Jebus movie), and got to recording.

We filmed the music video at this place called The Blueberry Patch—part art commune, part dreamworld—and when we got there, two giant 10-foot-high signs were already up. One said LOVE. One said REVEL. The name of our media company. I swear we didn’t plan it. The universe planned it. That’s how this whole thing feels.

And here’s something you don’t hear in music often:

I signed Solar Flair to Revel Media on a handshake for 0% ownership. They keep 100% of their band profits. Revel makes 0%. I help them for soul service reasons.

A one-sided deal—in the right direction.

Why?

Because not everything should be about money.

Some things should exist just because they’re good for the world.

Some things should be done for no reason at all.

When I saw this band live, I cried and smiled the way you do at the end of Little Miss Sunshine. I thought: The world has got to see this.

This isn’t a viral moment. It’s a visible movement.

You can’t watch this video and not feel something. You shouldn’t be able to. It’s not polished. It’s not perfect. It’s pure. It’s got a bit of dirt under its fingernails and joy in its bones. It's the antidote to algorithmic crap, to safe pop songs and safe lives.

These artists have something most of us don’t anymore: honesty. Zero artifice. Zero cool-for-cool’s-sake. Just connection. Just presence. Just love. Real love. No branding deck needed.

And in a world where everyone’s trying to pretend they’re okay, Project Free & Solar Flair say: We are weird, we are wild, we are wonderful—and you're invited.

And if you’re not careful, they might just remind you of the part of yourself you’ve been hiding. The part that didn’t care about being accepted. The part that still wanted to make noise and laugh and say “fuck it” to fitting in.

The more time I spend with these artists, the less I understand what “disabled” even means.

We throw that word around like we understand it. But who’s really disabled in a culture that rewards manipulation and disconnection? Who’s more able: the person who memorizes every lyric to every rock song ever written, or the one who scrolls through Instagram judging others or pretending to have a life?

Solar Flair forces you to reconsider all that. They’re not asking for sympathy. They’re showing us a way forward.

So yes, we dropped a video. You can stream the song on all platforms. Share it, love it, crank it.

But more than that—look at what’s possible when we stop pretending, when we lead with weird, when we worship at the altar of what makes us different instead of what makes us the same.

And if you’ve ever felt like you don’t fit, like your quirks were too weird, your gifts too jagged—welcome home.

Love is my religion. And these are my people.

This is more than a video drop. It’s a movement. One rooted in truth, joy, defiance, and the kind of weird that wakes people up.

Oh, and ProjectFREE is up for the best music school in the Tampa Bay area! Voting ends tomorrow and only takes a few minutes. You can vote for them here.

And if this cracked you open even a little?

I’d ask to please forward this to five people that you know would have their day brightened by this and ask them to consider subscribing.

Because we’re going on tour soon.

Coley for President is the next chapter. Yes, the show. Yes, the tour. And yes—I’ll actually be on the ballot.

This is about more than music. It’s a campaign for a new kind of leadership. One that centers art, inclusivity, and unfiltered soul. But venues want to see numbers. Movements need numbers. And if this resonates with you even a little—then I need your help.