BANG RIGHT

BREAKS MY SOUL

Snippet

No primeiro episódio do C(ERRADO), além da introdução da pesquisa que tá sendo feita pelo Luiz Soares, tem também uma conversa que ele teve com o Dinho, vocalista do Boogarins (@boogarins) e com o Kiron, (@kiiiron) produtor, cantor e compositor goianiense.
        A pesquisa do programa gira em torno do interesse em saber o que anda rolando musicalmente no centro-oeste brasileiro que bate de frente com o estereótipo da música sertaneja. O C(ERRADO) é um lugar que busca dar voz e visibilidade aos artistas que vem de um Brasil apagado, longe do eixo Rio-São Paulo.

        Dentro das especificidades de cada cultura, o enfoque especial do programa é no Estado de Goiás. Por se tratar do Estado em que a cultura do sertanejo contemporâneo é mais forte (Goiânia é conhecida como a capital do sertanejo), o espaço para que outras formas de manifestações culturais é ainda mais restrito. Somado a isso, o conservadorismo inerente da cidade é uma camada ainda mais densa que dificulta a proliferação do que foge do padrão.

Músicas Incidentais: 
Goiá - Chapadão
Goiá - Mutirão de Goiânia
Boogarins - Foimal
Kiron - Pássaro
Vida Seca - Electrouble

Músicas no final do episódio:
Trem - Corra
Boogarins - Poeira
Pedro Kastelinjs - Olhos da Raposa
Kiron - Alguma Coisa Vai Acontecer


DINHO + KÍRON | C(ERRADO) - EP01 @FunctionFM 10.05.2025

When you forgive, you are liberated. Not like a monk floating above the chaos,
but like an alien finally stepping out of the mothership—weightless, weird, and wonderfully free.
Forgiveness is strange. It doesn’t always feel noble. Sometimes it feels like surrender.
Other times, like betrayal of your own pain.
But then—quietly, without fanfare—it lifts you. Not because the past is erased,
but because you’ve stopped dragging it behind you like a broken satellite.
Imagine this:
You’ve been orbiting a grudge for years. It’s familiar, even comforting.
But it’s also draining your fuel, distorting your signal. Then one day, you let it go.
Suddenly, you’re not circling anymore. You’re soaring. Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting.
It means choosing not to be defined by the wound.
It’s the alien act of saying:
“I see what happened. I feel what it did. But I won’t let it pilot my ship anymore.”
And here’s the twist—When you forgive, you don’t just liberate yourself.
You create space. For creativity. For connection. For the kind of joy that doesn’t need justification. 
So if you’re holding onto something heavy, ask yourself:
Is it keeping you grounded, or keeping you stuck?
Because liberation isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s just a quiet decision to float free, like an alien in zero gravity, finally unburdened by Earthly grudges.


Forgiveness

Higher higher
Climbing through the wire
Higher higher
Burning through the choir
Higher
Till the stars expire....

Higher

There’s a moment in every great Funky House track when the groove doesn’t just move you—it flirts with you. Flirting with Fire is that moment stretched into a full-bodied experience. It’s not just a track; it’s a slow-burning conversation between rhythm and desire, teasing the listener with every beat, every pause, every shimmering note that refuses to resolve too soon.
From the first downbeat, Flirting with Fire sets the mood with a tempo that struts rather than sprints. It’s sensual, deliberate, and confident. The rhythm section—tight hi-hats, syncopated claps, and a bassline that slinks rather than stomps—creates a pulse that feels like a wink across the dancefloor. You’re not being rushed into euphoria; you’re being courted.
Each musical phrase is a flirtation. Notes don’t just land—they linger. Chords shimmer just out of reach, preparing your ear for the next drop, the next twist, the next sonic kiss. It’s the kind of track that understands the power of anticipation. Like a dancer who knows the value of restraint, it builds tension with greatness
What makes Flirting with Fire truly smolder is its harmonic playfulness. The melody doesn’t just rise—it coils. Synth stabs and vocal snippets dart in and out like glances exchanged across a crowded room. There’s a cheekiness to the arrangement, a knowing smile in the way it withholds resolution until just the right moment.
And when that moment comes—when the groove finally gives way to a full-bodied chorus or a bass drop that lands with delicious finality—it’s not just satisfying. It’s earned. The track teaches you to savor the journey, not just the destination.
This is music for late-night lounges and rooftop rendezvous. It’s the soundtrack to whispered conversations and stolen glances. Whether you’re dancing alone or locked in rhythm with someone else, Flirting with Fire invites you to move with intention, to feel every beat as a brushstroke on your skin.
It’s Funky House at its most intimate—groovy, cheeky, and utterly irresistible.

Flirting with Fire

A song about using my defense mechanism of humor to avoid conflict and achieve romance. Dedicated to class clowns everywhere.
Sorry I've been off SC lately, I've been taking care of a few things.

Lyrics:
I was just having a drink
In a bar on the rough side of town
Yeah, minding my own business
And these tough guys come up to me
They say: "Hey, we're tough guys."
"we don't like you drinking sparkling Chablis,"

Well, I had a real good read on the situation
I've got the gift of gab (talk) from my Dad
I'm a samurai of summation
I buy my sarcasm firsthand

I said: Gentlemen, may  I suggest a truce?
Let me be the peacemaker and buy you a bottle of booze
Then I got loose
I left them with a bill
For a three hundred dollar
Bottle of Chartruse

Oh, I listened to what my Mama say
You're gonna have to fight those boys someday
But if you use your brain
Then you'll find another way
Fight back, hit em in the funny bone (3X)
Funny bone

I was a young undergrad
A full-time miscreant
A part-time handsome man
I needed to get the attention of the ladies
But I wasn't that good-looking
But I knew what I had

I had a good read on the situation
I have the gift of gab from my Dad
I'm a samurai of summation
I buy my sarcasm firsthand

I listened to what my Mama say
If those girls don't give you the time of day
You're gonna have to use your brain
Then you'll find another way 
Step back, appeal to her funny bone (3X)
Funny bone

Funny Bone

There are tracks that whisper. There are tracks that wander. And then there’s “Everybody To The Dancefloor”—a bold, unapologetic call to the House music faithful. It doesn’t ask. It commands. It doesn’t wait. It grooves. This isn’t just a song. It’s a signal. A beacon. A bassline-shaped bat signal for those who know that the dancefloor isn’t just a place—it’s a state of mind. 
From the first kick, you know what time it is. The hi-hats shimmer like disco dust. The synths strut with purpose. And the vocal? It’s not just a phrase—it’s a mantra. “Everybody To The Dancefloor” is the kind of track that turns a living room into a club, a kitchen into a cabaret, and a quiet moment into a celebration. It’s funky. It’s cheeky. It’s pure 303GREG. 
This track isn’t for the faint-hearted. It’s for the groove warriors. The beat believers. The ones who know that House music isn’t just heard—it’s felt. It’s for the dancers who move like nobody’s watching and the producers who build basslines like bridges to joy. 
“Everybody To The Dancefloor” is a reminder that we’re all invited. No velvet rope. No dress code. Just rhythm, sweat, and soul. 
In the 303GREG household, the dancefloor is wherever the vibe lands. Sometimes it’s between the dog bowl and the synth rack.  Sometimes it’s in the heart—where the groove lives even when the speakers are silent. 
This track was born from that spirit. From resilience turned into rhythm. From family chaos remixed into funk. From the belief that music can lift, connect, and transform. 
So here’s your invitation: press play. Turn it up. Let the funky house music do what it was born to do. Whether you’re in socks or stilettos, solo or surrounded, the dancefloor is ready. And it’s calling your name. 
“Everybody To The Dancefloor”—because joy deserves a beat. 

Everybody To The Floor

Some tracks tell a story. This one confesses.
“Wasting My Time With You (But I Like It)” is a sonic daydream—a playful, poignant journey through procrastination, distraction, and the sweet surrender to moments that weren’t planned but feel too good to resist. It begins with a carefree groove, light and breezy, like skipping responsibilities with a smile. But then, something shifts. The sync stumbles, the rhythm tilts—she’s caught off guard by an admirer, and suddenly the music mirrors her emotional detour.
There’s tension, curiosity, maybe even a little guilt. But it’s wrapped in warmth. The track doesn’t punish her for straying—it celebrates the beauty of being swept away. And just when you think it might spiral, it lands gently in a lilting percussive finale, like a sigh of acceptance. She knows she’s off track. But she’s okay with it.
This is a love letter to the moments that interrupt us, the people who pull us into unexpected joy, and the rhythms that remind us that not all time has to be productive to be meaningful.


Wasting Time With You (But I Like It)

Inspired by Brahms' Cello Sonata No.1 in E- Op.38 No. l Allegro, we transform his vision ... busking on the streets of Dundlod, near New Delhi.  Dual sitars, santur and our beloved Priya on percussion.
Excursion from reality: https://youtu.be/ACrT2qsrFZs?t=9

Street Excursion

I am a music producer/composer from Sydney, Australia. Classically trained percussionist and drummer. Played in orchestras and nightclub bands for several years. I've got a diverse musical portfolio from Rockabilly tours around the world to producing House and EDM tracks, I've lived multiple musical lives with these experiences and collaborations significantly influencing my electronic compositions.
My journey from classical percussion to electronic dance music is phenomenal. With all these influences, my compositions carry a unique flavor.