Patience

BLOON DØG emerges from the static with “Caffeinate” a minimal house track built for focused loops and late-night spirals. Clean percussion, persistent synthwork, and strange sonic anomalies shape a soundscape somewhere between eerie and meditative. Imagine a café adrift in The Vøid, where concentration sharpens and time bends. Designed for quiet momentum, perfect for minimal spaces, electronic focus, and the twilight hours.

Caffeinate (single)

“Heart-throb” loops a dusty soul sample into something aching and circular, a memory half-frozen in time. The drums stutter like nerves. The vocal never lands clean. BLOON DØG doesn’t edit much here. Just lets it play. Lets it ache, and yearn, and layer into a maelstrom of love.

The Vøid keeps trying to soften the blow. It doesn’t work.

Heart-throb

“BB” is a faster, frantic kind of plea. The drums twitch like nerves misfiring, stitched around a vocal that begs you to stay the night, but not out of love. Out of fear. Out of obsession. It’s a love song from the wrong angle, the kind that leaves you pacing at 3am.

Regret pulses beneath the bassline. BLOON DØG can’t let go. Neither can the track.

A temporary loss of gravity. “Spangled” floats freely. It’s a half tripped-out lullaby, half euphoric spiral. There’s space in every direction, and BLOON DØG lets go of the map. Eerie delays cast confusing shadows. The beat is hypnotic, like blinking lights on a ship that’s drifting sideways.

The Vøid’s never looked more beautiful. Or more off balance. Cast through a sanguine kaleidoscope of off-putting apparitions.

Spangled

“Caffeinate” is BLOON DØG’s attempt to focus. Built from dry percussion, clipped synth loops and a minimal groove, the track feels almost clean, until it isn’t. Strange, yet familiar, artifacts drift in. Rhythms buckle slightly.

Like trying to think clearly in a dream. Or write a to-do list in a blacked out café.

Caffeinate

“Dandelion” is BLOON DØG’s closest encounter with organic life. A strange fascination with petals, patterns, and delicate structures that disappear when you breathe too hard. Haunting classical fragments hum beneath the surface, including a warped nursery rhyme that seems to bloom and decay all at once.

The track crescendos in a wall of low-end and distant drama. It’s a love song for something small. And fragile. And already gone.

Dandelion

What happens in the corners of nightclubs? Through distortion, deep bass, and a moral fog that never quite lifts “Subatomic” explores that question. It pulses with desire, but not the safe kind. Vocal cuts stutter. The beat leans in. This is BLOON DØG at their most intrigued by humanity’s darker rituals.

The track doesn’t judge. It just records. Submerged, subversive, subatomic.

Subatomic

“Limeade” tries to feel good. A beach loop, some shimmer, even a ghostly backing choir. But something’s off. It’s too soft around the edges, like a summer that never happened.

Sweet, bright, but quietly unstable. BLOON DØG’s version of a holiday track, caught just out of signal.

Limeade

“Tizz” balances movement with mourning. It dances between contrasts and contradictions. The glitching textures and spiralling vocal fragments hint at something unraveling beneath. There’s sadness here, in the spaces between the snares, in the way the synths never quite land where they should.

BLOON DØG doesn’t want to let go. The album nears its end. This track doesn’t accept that.

Tizz

A burning kind of love. “Kerosene” loops aching vocal samples over trembling low-end, building a structure that’s either sacred or about to collapse. Everything in this track is scorched, the desire, the memory, the soul that keeps repeating itself.

There’s beauty here. But it’s volatile.
Love doesn’t flicker. It engulfs.

Kerosene

This is the sound of final surrender. The last transmission. This is not a place. An isolated piano riff flickers through static, looping like a fading memory. As it builds, glitches break through like storm cracks in the sky. The static storm begins again.

BLOON DØG remains alone, observing. Recording. Reflecting. Still unsure if any of it was real.

This Is Not A Place

Just a canine balloon drifting through The Vøid, trying to explore the meaning of existance.

🎈 Warm house vibes and off-kilter cuts of electronica. 🎈

bloondog.music@gmail.com

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