Alaska

This song is a love letter to that wild Alaskan energy—the kind that wears flannel like royalty, swims in glacier lakes at 2AM with a headlamp and a thermos of vodka, and thinks “building a sauna” is a casual Tuesday. It follows one unforgettable character whose version of “self-care” involves bear tooth hair clips, chainsaw naps, and emotionally charged outhouse playlists.

Told through a fast-talking, folk-pop narrator with dry wit and deep affection, Out for a Dip captures the chaos, confidence, and clarity that come from truly living on your own terms—mosquitoes, mud, and all. Each verse builds the legend, every chorus dares you to keep up.

It’s not just a dip. It’s a lifestyle.
Bring snacks.

Alaska: Out for a Dip

This one’s for the feral girls of summer—the ones who mow the lawn in a head net, flirt with fishmongers, and treat mosquito bites like battle medals.

Midnight Sunburn tells the story of a woman who doesn’t just survive the Alaskan summer—she dominates it with chaotic finesse. She’s dancing in ripped shorts, hauling her stolen bike out of the bay, and still showing up to the party with fish guts on her shades and a flirt in her eye. The sun doesn’t set, but neither does she.

It’s a folk-pop anthem for anyone who’s ever powered through 19 hours of daylight with caffeine, Crocs, and questionable choices. Funny, loud, and weirdly inspiring, this is rugged glam at its most unhinged—and somehow still practical.

She’s not just sunburned.
She’s midnight sunburned.

Alaska: Midnight Sunburn

This song is a love letter to the kind of woman who makes kombucha with one hand while changing a tire with the other. She’s Built Like Alaska isn’t just a title—it’s a whole damn lifestyle.

From bear spray tans to multi-tool yoga, this anthem tells the story of a frontier queen who’s part wilderness, part wisdom, and entirely too powerful to date your cousin. She’s got grit, grace, and a yurt full of personality. She’s the type who flirts over firewood, owns more flannel than fear, and can bake a soufflé while field-dressing a deer.

Delivered with dry humor and campfire swagger, this song celebrates women who thrive off-grid, on-point, and out of reach. Whether she’s ghosting you by evaporating into the fog or splitting wood to Lizzo remixes, one thing’s clear:

She’s not just built different—
She’s built like Alaska.

She’s Built Like Alaska

Alaska: Kombucha and Caribou is a love letter to the gloriously weird, wildly independent spirit of Alaska. Told through the eyes of a delightfully unbothered narrator, the song captures the chaotic charm of off-grid living where kombucha brews next to caribou skulls, and survival is equal parts grit, humor, and duct tape.

It’s the story of someone who forages berries in a bridal gown, starts a sauna with bear spray and ambition, and navigates love, chores, and existential crises with a kazoo in one hand and a mason jar full of fermented moss in the other. From wrestling moose-sized feelings to building a zipline out of emotional baggage, each verse celebrates the everyday absurdity and quiet power of those who thrive where WiFi fears to tread.

Whether it’s sipping spruce tea in a canoe, crying at sunsets in Xtratufs, or making soap from regret and fireweed, this is more than a song—it’s a lifestyle. One that doesn’t chase normal, but duct-tapes it to a kayak and sends it downriver.

Because in Alaska, kombucha is a personality trait. And caribou don’t judge you.

Alaska: Kombucha and Moose

Alaska Stuff is a hilarious folk-rap tribute to the gloriously strange rituals of Alaskan masculinity. It’s a story about a guy who bakes sourdough with a beard full of secrets, ferments things he can’t pronounce, and once split firewood to impress a moose. Half the time he’s chopping logs shirtless in a blizzard; the other half, he’s DJing ironic vinyl sets at the local brewery.

This song doesn’t try to explain Alaska—it just lives it. It’s for the men who wear flannel to weddings, quote Thoreau at dive bars, and unironically use kombucha as currency. He’s rugged, yes, but also a little confused, a little too proud of his trapline-themed blog, and fully committed to his dog Chad.

Each verse is a love letter to self-deprecating swagger, wild vibes, and the kind of frontier romance that only works if you’ve got good WiFi and a bear-proof pantry.

Because in Alaska, it’s not just a lifestyle—it’s a performance art piece. And yeah, that kazoo solo was emotional.



Alaska Stuff

Alaska: Born to Chill, Built to Haul is a duet of unhinged backwoods brilliance—a flirt-fueled folk-hop saga from the land of midnight sun and maximum personality. It’s the story of two off-grid oddballs who swear they’re not dating but somehow co-own a snowmobile, a meat shed, and a tactical charcuterie board.

He’s the kind of guy who chops wood shirtless, frames caribou skulls like art, and casually pilots bush planes for snacks. She builds saunas in vans, hikes in dresses for the drama, and ghosts men by floatplane. Together, they’re chaos wrapped in bear spray and bug bites, swapping punchlines like salmon recipes and flexing wilderness pride with every verse.

It’s part roasting session, part wilderness love letter, and entirely Alaskan—loud, weird, and surprisingly well-prepared.

If you’ve ever worn Crocs to a glacier wedding or packed cookies in a tackle box, this song is for you.

Alaska Born to Chill, Built to Haul

Electronic music producers exploring the duality of sound. Twin DJs channeling parallel frequencies into singular experiences. Where symmetry meets chaos, you'll find our beats.

Alaska Born to Chill, Built to Haul

Coding Twins