Take em

Another piece based on the synth compositions from my long-past teenage years. The main theme (slightly rewritten) comes from a short piece I named The Mist Majesty, which, in my opinion, had a distinct autumnal flavor that I wanted to preserve and emphasize in this rewrite. It is also about something else, but autumn is unmistakably present, and I think the watercolor I chose as the cover fits perfectly.
Completed in April of 2025.

Morceaux For Piano, E Minor

LoNe WolF - "The Ranger"




Written & Composed By: LoNe WolF


Mixed & Mastered By: LoNe WolF






#scfirst #getmoreplays 












The Ranger [Single]

The Ranger

Scattered

If I were me

Axiom unfolds as a meditation on fundamental truths in D Mixolydian, where certainty and doubt dance in perpetual tension. The composition builds from a single, undeniable musical statement that expands into complex territories while remaining anchored to its origin. Like mathematical principles that require no proof, the melodic core stands self-evident amidst evolving harmonic landscapes. Jazz textures create spaces where listeners confront their own unquestioned assumptions, while modal explorations blur the boundaries between ancient wisdom and contemporary insight.

Axiom

Why do you both love?

Wap Kon George

Ever lost something small… but also everything at the same time? 🫠
Well, this is the tragicomedy of a Friday night spent inside, fueled by cheap red wine, neon light therapy, and an emotional attachment to a USB stick holding the last remains of… pathetic rom-com love.

Psycho Dub x Drum & Bass x Rock Music =
One part heartbreak, one part chaos, two parts distorted basslines, and just a sprinkle of “why did I even record that?” 🤯

Expect:
🔹 Jumpy drum & bass drops colliding with fuzzy guitars
🔹 Heavy dub echoes of your bad life decisions
🔹 Screaming at your laptop, but in key 🎸
🔹 A musical therapy session for everyone who’s ever deleted love by accident (or on purpose 👀)

Press play if you’re ready to dive into romantic self-destruction, pixelated nostalgia, and the bittersweet beauty of losing… absolutely everything except your sense of groove.

🎵 Artist: Unbekannter Künstler
🎵 Track: I Lost My USB
🔊 Mood: Somewhere between throwing your laptop out the window and dancing on the balcony at 3AM

Lyrics:

Friday night, and I stayed inside,
Cheap red wine and a neon light,
Rom-com scenes where nobody dies,
Pathetic dreams and cliché lies.

Every frame, every late-night show,
Every line I should never know,
Now they’re gone where the lost things go,
Baby, why’d I let it go?

Oh no no no — I lost my USB — just so so so,
Pathetic love on a plastic drive,
Deleted hearts that won’t survive.

Oh no no no — this tragedy found me — can’t let it be,
Every memory fades away,
But I still press play…

Scrolling through my broken mind,
All those nights I can’t rewind,
Pixel love in a crashing wave,
All my endings I couldn’t save.

Static noise inside my veins,
Broken scenes and phantom flames,
Between the screen and fantasy,
I lost the last of you and me…

Oh no no no — I lost my USB — just so so so,
Pathetic love on a plastic drive,
Deleted hearts that won’t survive.

Oh no no no — this tragedy found me — can’t let it be,
Every memory fades away,
But I still press play…

My USB (Psycho Version)

Ex Best Friend (Missed Calls Mix)

Happy Funk

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.

Why do you both love?

blorgpulkfplorksickle

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