Fake Love

The latest in our Moon series ... the Herb Moon is one of the names for the July moon. 

All the words are by me, and the music and cover is by Andreas Pirner, @APi_ZZ

Herb Moon

underground

https://on.soundcloud.com/q9dO2or5nI0re9pegw by GambYt @gambyt-123786609

ShAnkAri touch - ShAnkAri prod.

@djshankari

GambYt - Kuzco-Topia (ShAnkAri touch)

Empire of Wheat

https://on.soundcloud.com/bIDFUGYEDcLZr2btI1 by VickStiX @vicky-adair

This song is my future self at ninety, speaking back to my present self. It’s raw, intimate, and soft-spoken — like a truth only time can reveal. Where "Don’t Be Me" (on.soundcloud.com/HDgZa4Mt4Sy1GVqfg) was my plea to the five-year-old me to hold on to her fire, "Voice at Ninety" is the continuation — the perspective of a woman who has lived it all, looking back with clarity and love. It’s about recognizing that even as the body ages, the spirit doesn’t fade, and the fire inside still burns. It’s a reminder not to save your song for another day, not to fold or disappear, but to live fully and love fiercely for as long as body and mind allow. This isn’t just advice to myself — it’s a message for anyone who has ever wondered what really matters when the years catch up: love, truth, and the courage to keep your voice alive. @vicky-adair

LYRICS:

[Verse 1]
Hey stubborn woman, hands still scarred,
You’ve carried battles, you’ve walked through dark.
But don’t let silence steal your fire,
Don’t bury truth beneath desire.

[Pre-Chorus]
The mirror may crack, but your spirit won’t break,
Every scar on your skin is the proof you create.

[Chorus]
So live loud, live true,
Make the world make room for you.
Don’t save your song for another day,
Sing it now before it slips away.
I’ve seen the end, and I swear it’s clear —
What matters most is love while you’re here.

[Verse 2]
You held your tongue when you should’ve screamed,
You gave your time to the wrong damn dream.
Don’t let regret chain up your feet,
Forgive yourself and claim your seat.

[Pre-Chorus]
The body gets weak, but the fire won’t die,
I’m proof you can roar when the night runs dry.

[Chorus]
So live loud, live true,
Make the world make room for you.
Don’t save your song for another day,
Sing it now before it slips away.
I’ve seen the end, and I swear it’s clear —
What matters most is love while you’re here.

[Verse 3]
At ninety I smile at the woman you are,
Bruised but burning, you’ve come so far.
Don’t chase the ghosts, don’t fear the fall,
You’ll find your wings when you give it all.

[Bridge]
Write your rage on the sky, let your stories bleed,
Every loss was a fire, every wound a seed.
And I wouldn’t trade the pain I’ve known,
It carved the voice that’s all your own.

[Chorus]
So live loud, live true,
Make the world make room for you.
Don’t save your song for another day,
Sing it now before it slips away.
I’ve seen the end, and I swear it’s clear —
What matters most is love while you’re here.

[Chorus (Refrain)]
Live wild, live free,
Keep your heart where it’s meant to be.
Don’t fold, don’t fade, don’t disappear,
Carry your fire across the years.

[Outro]
So if you hear me from the future call,
Don’t be afraid — you can’t lose it all.
Love’s the only thing that you keep,
I’ll hold it safe for when you sleep.
@vicky-adair 

@shankari-touch

VickStiX - Voice at Ninety (ShAnkAri touch)

Wound Up/Unwind - Unwind for String Quartet and Hand Pan
Written: 2025
Total Duration: 10'
for string quartet and percussion (cajón with pedal and handpan—D Kurd 10: D) A, B-flat, C, D, E, F, G, A, C )
Commissioned by FAB5 quintet with support from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs
World Premiere: FAB5, Mostly Modern Festival | The Netherlands, Oostkerk, Middelburg, Middelburg, Zeeland, The Netherlands, May 2, 2025
US Premiere: Mostly Modern Festival. FAB5, Mostly Modern Festival, Arthur Zankel Music Center, Helen Filene Ladd Concert Hall, Skidmore College, Saratoga Springs, NY, June 18, 2026
Publisher: Bill Holab Music
For More Information: https://robertpaterson.com/wound-up-unwind
VIdeo: https://youtu.be/RPyXPYx-nuo


PROGRAM NOTE
For many years, my wife Victoria and her FAB5 quintet (string quartet and percussion), have entertained thousands of people at numerous performance spaces and travel hubs in New York City, including Moynihan Train Hall, Oculus World Trade Center, Javits Center, and Chelsea Market. Having seen many of their shows, especially those at travel hubs, there's a certain tension and release you experience watching people wait anxiously for their trains, and then the release they feel when they are finally on their way. I've had these experiences myself, so I wanted to create two pieces that emulate these feelings.

Wound Up/Unwind consists of two contrasting pieces for string quartet and percussion. The first, Wound Up, for string quartet and cajón, imitates the feeling of being worried, anxious, and frustrated, especially while waiting to board a train. The second, Unwind, for string quartet and handpan, is calm and soothing, perhaps emulating the satisfying feeling of relaxing in a quiet seat as the train leaves the station. Both pieces can be performed independently and in any order.

Wound Up/Unwind is written for and commissioned by the FAB5 quintet with support from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs.

Unwind for String Quartet and Hand Pan

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 & 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝: ➡️ https://lnk.to/PSR413

Manuel Alicante's 'Feel Alive' is a three track journey into the heart of organic house, blending earthy textures with soaring melodies and deep, hypnotic grooves. Each track carries an epic, cinematic energy designed to awaken the senses and move the spirit, weaving natural soundscapes with driving rhythms. With 'Feel Alive', Manuel Alicante showcases his ability to fuse emotional depth and dancefloor power, offering listeners an uplifting and transformative sonic experience.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬:

Organic House: ➡️ lnk.to/CRMOrganic
Melodic House & Techno: ➡️ lnk.to/CRMMelodicTechno
Lounge: ➡️ lnk.to/CRMLounge
Deep Electronica: ➡️ lnk.to/deep_electronica
Tech House Cuts: ➡️ lnk.to/tech-house-cuts
Deep House Background Mix: ➡️ lnk.to/deeplounge

𝐓𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐨𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐈.𝐅𝐌:
➡️ www.di.fm/shows/crossworld-podcast

𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬: ➡️ linktr.ee/Crossworlder

𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 is bringing together artists from around the world, sharing, collaborating and inspiring the music scene of tomorrow. 🎶🎶🎶

Stream & Download

Manuel Alicante - Eagle Song

English:
An 80s-inspired fusion of Arabic rhythm, European melody, and American cinematic sound. YOU My ❤️ aRaBiC DeLuXe 80s brings together nostalgic synths, romantic grooves, and Middle Eastern soul — a musical journey across borders and generations. Every track glows with love, memory, and motion — an 8D experience that connects East and West through sound.

العربية:
ألبوم يجمع بين أنغام الثمانينات الكلاسيكية والإيقاعات العربية واللمسة الأوروبية والأمريكية.
YOU My ❤️ aRaBiC DeLuXe 80s رحلة موسيقية تعبر الحدود والأجيال — تمزج بين الإحساس والرومانسية والحنين بأسلوب سينمائي حديث.


YOU My ❤️ aRaBiC DeLuXe 80s.S3

LUSTRE: Krispy Kreme
Sold fresh at Goldenbeam.
Glaze coded with serotonin.
They melt on your tongue, then whisper your name.

The beat loops through every bite.
You start to hum in perfect sync.

[Sweet cycle. Do not resist.]
pass: 5419380
iamfordwich.com

Krispy Kreme

Jerred plays the main theme, fingerstyle, and Bret adds fills.

Decompression Stop

Less Is More

I don't claim any ownership over any of this. Anyone can use any of it for any reason forever. Also I accept liability. Please don't sue me (and/or let's collaborate).

"Holy fucking shit, this shit is crazy wtf"

"Moments of being passable beyond novelty"

"Very ok"

"Actually slaps"

"Straight art"

"Noise"

```Madlibs with a metronome```

At its core, the blorgpulkf is a pulsating, iridescent orb that thrums with an energy that can only be described as "the sound of a thousand bees having a rave inside a kaleidoscope." It's hypnotic, it's unsettling, and it's strangely addictive - like watching a lava lamp filled with Mountain Dew and gummy bears.

But that's just the beginning. Surrounding this pulsing heart are layers upon layers of... well, your guess is as good as mine. One moment it's a tangled web of neon tubes that hum with an eerie frequency, the next it's a churning mass of what appears to be sentient silly putty. And is that a tiny disco ball I see nestled in there? You bet your sweet bippy it is.

As for its features, the blorgpulkf is like a Swiss Army knife designed by a mad scientist with a penchant for pranks. It's got a button that releases a burst of confetti and the sound of a rubber chicken being stepped on, a lever that causes the whole thing to fold in on itself like a origami crane having an existential crisis, and a tiny compartment that dispenses a single, perfectly spherical grape every 37 hours.

But perhaps the most baffling feature of the blorgpulkf is its ability to communicate. Not with words, of course - that would be far too pedestrian. No, the blorgpulkf speaks in a language all its own, a cryptic code of flashing lights, whirring gears, and the occasional burst of atonal jazz played on what sounds suspiciously like a didgeridoo.




The plorksickle. It's like someone took a fever dream, a Mad Lib, and a Dada art installation, threw 'em in a blender, and hit "puree."

Picture this: a contraption that looks like it crawled out of a Salvador Dali painting and mated with a Rube Goldberg machine. It's got a crank that sounds like a yodeling ostrich, a button that releases a puff of glitter and the scent of existential dread, and a tiny screen that just flashes the word "moist" in Wingdings.

But here's the kicker - every time you think you've figured out what it does, it changes the game. One minute it's reciting beat poetry in binary code, the next it's turning itself inside out and becoming a Klein bottle. And don't even get me started on the time it started oozing a viscous liquid that tasted like the color purple.

Is it a tool? A toy? A sentient being from another dimension that's just really, really bad at communication? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, it's the most beautifully useless thing I've ever laid eyes on.

But maybe that's the point. In a world where everything has to have a purpose, a function, a reason for being, the plorksickle is a big, fat middle finger to the very concept of sense. It's absurdity for absurdity's sake, a Zen koan in physical form.

So if you ever see me on the street, cradling this bizarre little gizmo like a newborn lovechild, don't ask me what it does. Just nod, smile, and know that you're in the presence of something truly inexplicable. Something that laughs in the face of logic and spits in the eye of reason.

Empire of Wheat

blorgpulkfplorksickle