// Original vocals John 'Zac' Hill
// Music, lyrics & mix by Guiville
--
The rain hit the pavement, cold and grey,
Running through the council estate,
Me and my brothers, out all day,
Living off laughter, crisps, and fate.

Dad’s old Ford, rusting in the drive,
Mum’s vinyl spinning, keeping us alive,
Bowie and Boland sang us to sleep,
Dreams in the static, memories deep.

Oh, the echoes of the past still call my name,
Flickering like old TV flames,
From hiding in fields to the corner shop,
Time moves on, but the past won’t stop.

Saturday mornings, sweet and slow,
Kicking a ball where the wild grass grows,
Stealing a smoke behind the shed,
Tales of tomorrow filling our heads.

Dad’s old Ford, rusting in the drive,
Mum’s vinyl spinning, keeping us alive,
Punk on the telly, disco at dawn,
We never knew we’d soon be gone.

Oh, the echoes of the past still call my name,
Flickering like old TV flames,
From hiding in fields to the corner shop,
Time moves on, but the past won’t stop.

Letters from school, old scuffs on my knees,
The smell of the chippy still rides on the breeze,
Brothers in battle, but brothers in arms,
Now only shadows remain in the calm.

And if I could, I’d go back again,
To rainy streets and childhood friends,
But the echoes fade, the years move fast,
Still, I hold on to the echoes of the past.

Brothers (Feat. John 'Zac' Hill)

About drifting through the world without finding love

A Ship Without A Sail

It’s time to talk about AI…

THE BATTLEGROUND IS CULTURE by Nova J

(Is this the death?)
(Is this the death of humanity?)
(Or the beginning?)
The battleground… is culture.
The battleground… is culture.
The battleground… is now.

Is technology boosting creativity?
Or killing off originality?
Everything you see,
Everything you hear,
Came from a thought,
In between the ears

Absorbed by the net,
Now wired in code,
Ones and zeroes
Overload
(Ones and zeroes
Overload)

And now it’s back
Half-baked and cloned
No blood, no soul
No skin and bone
Just a quick fix
From a dopamine machine
When did music become
A video game?

The battleground is culture
The battle is now
The battleground is shifting
We gotta ask how
Is this the death of humanity?
Or just the beginning somehow?
The battleground is culture
The battleground is now

The battleground is shifting
We gotta ask how
Is this the death of humanity?
Or just the beginning somehow?
The battleground is culture
The battleground is now

If I tap keys instead of ink and pen
Am I still a writer then?
When spellcheck scripts my inner monologue
Am I the maker?
Or the catalog?

What if the tool becomes the voice
And stories bend without a choice?
The dreamer fades
the screen’s the star
Do we forget who we are?

The battleground is culture
The battleground is now
The battleground is shifting
We gotta ask how

Is this the death of humanity?
Or just the beginning somehow?
The battleground is culture
The battleground is now

Not just a song
A declaration
A line drawn between
Truth and imitation
A soul you can feel
Or a hollow simulation
The battleground… is culture.
This is the confrontation.

Is this the death? (Is this the death?)
Is this the end? (Or just a test?)
Is this the death of humanity?
Or something else instead?
The battleground is culture
The battleground is now

The battleground is culture

This has been in my mind for some time, building the emotional closure Bowie never gave us. A haunting, poetic epilogue to Space Oddity, told through the voices of Ground Control and Mrs. Tom, with Major Tom’s silence lingering in the void.

Echoes to Major Tom

“I Still Play” is a personal piece from me, Krazy Krissie. I used to perform with a sax in my hands and a dream in my chest... until life took a bite out of both. Illness changed everything,  but it didn’t end my journey, it just forced me to take a different road.

This song is for anyone who's had their plans shattered and their voice shaken. You don’t have to quit, just pivot.
Your path may shift, but the music?
It can still be yours. 🎷🖤✨

****Lyrics****

It started with a sax and a secondhand smile
Ten years deep in a dream we made worthwhile
Just friends and songs under birthday lights
No fame, just fire on those Saturday nights
I had a voice behind the sound
Helping others rise while I held the ground

But life don’t ask, it just arrives
A whisper first, then it rewrites lives
I woke up one day, and my body said no
To every rhythm I used to know
Now I create from a different place
And write through pain I can’t erase

But I still play, just in a different way
I build the world where someone else can sway
I lost the notes, but not the sound
The stories still find their way around
It’s not the path I thought I’d take
But it’s still a song I get to make

It’s still a song I get to make…

There’s grief in knowing some doors stay closed
In the weight of what your body never chose
But I won’t fold, I won’t erase
The fire that time can’t displace
I am more than what I’ve lost
I’ve paid the price, but not the cost

So if you’re out there, stuck in pause
If the world don’t clap, just take applause
From the words you write, the tracks you send
Your voice can echo without end

you’re not broken… just renamed…

There was a time I thought it ended here,
When I couldn’t lift the sax I held for years.
No more melodies, no more sound,
Just silence where my life was found.
But silence taught me something new,
That music never leaves, it just finds a different view.

I still play, through every beat I build
Every lyric traced from something I’ve felt
The stage has changed, the lights are new
But the soul of the song is still true
We bend, we burn, but we don’t break
We still make music, for our own sake

We still make music…
For our own sake…

So here’s my solo, made of light
From quiet studios and sleepless nights
No Saxophone in hand, but still I stay,
Because I still play.

I Still Play

Almost musical theatre style pop song. Written from a viewpoint of a friend watching a friend get strung along by a married guy, but she hasn’t worked that out yet.

She’s Holding Out For Him

Phenomena

Ian Curtis didn’t just write about epilepsy. He was destroyed by the treatment of it.
That story hasn’t changed. I know — I live it.
My experience is with epilepsy but this song is about medication culture.
“ADHD” is my counterattack: psychedelic, soulful, defiant. A chaotic, poetic rant in defence of identity.
It’s not just about ADHD. It’s about survival without sedation.
The drugs don’t prevent seizures but leave you sad, angry, and suicidal.
My experience is common in the epilepsy community.
People are scared to say no to doctors. I’ve been told I could die any day from a seizure — but I’d rather have love, energy, music and risk what their textbooks say than take their drugs or follow their dogma.
Medications haven’t evolved since Ian Curtis unfortunately.

ADHD I GOT
SUPER OCD I GOT
MY MUMMAS CRAZY BUT I’M NOT

ANYONE 
DO YOU WANNA CHOOSE
CAN I WALK AROUND IN YOUR SHOES
ANYONE
WHY IS IT YOU
WHY IS IT ME
COULD BE ANYONE

ADHD I GOT
SUPER OCD I GOT
MY MUMMAS CRAZY BUT I’M NOT

ADHD
ADHD
ADHDeeeeeeeeeeee

NARCOLEPSY I GOT
FELL ASLEEP STANDING UP
DRINKING PEPSI I MUST NOT

TELL ME WHATS REAL AND WHATS NOT
AMPHETAMINE I GOT SHOT
RITALIN PiLLS I GOT

ADHD I GOT
SUPER OCD I GOT
EPILEPSY I FEEL HOT
I FEEL HOT

ADHD
ADHD
ADHDeeeeeeeeeeee

HOW COME I MEET YOU
WE CAN DO WHATEVER WE DO
QUE SERA THATS TRUE
PARANOID IDEAS OF GOD

ADHD I GOT
SUPER OCD I GOT
MY MUMMAS CRAZY BUT I’M NOT
ADHD I FEEL HOT
I FEEL HOT
I FEEL HOT

ADHD

spirits in the atmosphere

Я радуюсь, ведь знаю я - Смерть власти больше не имеет.

I see the world

🎹🎹Tens of thousands of plays across internet radio and featured on the BBC! I create music as the mood takes me, which way it goes I never know until it is completed.
😎 A BIG thankyou for the follows, listens, and comments - it is all really appreciated!

Echoes to Major Tom

Esser