This album was made with modern tools, modern speed, and zero interest in pretending otherwise.

It is a collection of stories, beats, and broadcasts built from curiosity, late nights, and the refusal to sand down edges for comfort. Some tracks feel like adventure. Some feel like flexing. Some are just me saying things out loud that people tend to avoid, ignore, or politely disagree with.

You will hear humor. You will hear chaos. You will hear affection for old media, strange history, and ideas that refuse to stay buried. You will also hear facts and perspectives that are not designed to be soothing. That is intentional.

This is not a product engineered to chase a lane.
It is a signal sent because it needed to be sent.

Listen loud. Skip around. Argue with it. Enjoy it anyway.
The point is not agreement.
The point is movement.

Nitetime.net 2026

еееее

Nitetime.net Is Back is a full-throated return march. No irony. No apology. This is a triumphant, curtain-rising anthem built for bright lights and open skies. The kind of song that sounds like a spotlight snapping on after a long blackout.

It carries the energy of a grand reopening, part revival tent, part late-night broadcast tower humming back to life. Brass and lift, forward motion and belief. The music doesn’t creep in. It arrives. Loud, confident, and unashamedly big.

This track is about momentum reclaimed. About a signal that never truly went silent, only waiting for the right moment to roar again. Nitetime.net isn’t rebooted, rebranded, or reinvented. It’s back on the air, exactly as intended.

The night show must go on.

Nitetime.net is Back

A midnight party breaks out in the Nitetime garage and the raccoons have taken over the controls.

They are not wrecking the place. They are digging. Crates of dusty film reels. Old drive-in prints. Late-night broadcast leftovers. Every raccoon is on a mission, flipping cans, unspooling reels, arguing over which movie goes on next.

The beats hit like a basement party that got out of hand in the best way. Loud, playful, and messy on purpose. Heavy bass, bounce, and swagger, but all in fun. No violence. No threats. Just mischievous energy and pure chaos joy.

Raccoon Rampage at Nitetime

Under a wide rural night sky, three raccoons gather around a small fire, surrounded by film reels and forgotten broadcast relics. Their glowing eyes suggest purpose. Ritual. Control. One holds a vial like an offering. Another grips the machinery of old media as if it were sacred.

They believe they are summoning something.

In the distance, a vintage car crests the hill, its passengers framed like a prophecy arriving on cue. Above them all, a UFO hovers quietly, casting a soft beam of light. It does not command. It observes.

Thin puppet strings descend from the sky, barely visible at first. They do not attach to the figures being summoned. They attach to the raccoons themselves.

The truth settles in slowly.
The raccoons are not puppet masters.
They are workers. Operators. Hands on someone else’s machine.

This image captures the heart of a slow country ballad about illusion and labor, about mistaking effort for authority, and believing you’re calling the shots when you’re really answering a call written long before you arrived.

Melancholy, mythic, and quietly ironic.

The Raccoon Summoning

A lone filmmaker stands at the center of chaos, driving a low-budget dream forward through sheer will. Monsters, actors, cameras, and flying saucers collide under hot lights and a full moon, but nothing slows the momentum. This is Hollywood at its scrappiest and most sincere. No irony. No retreat. Just relentless motion from someone who refused to stop creating, no matter the odds.

This song captures the spirit of a man who worked harder than the system allowed, fueled by belief instead of permission.

Ed Wood - The Hardest Working Man in Hollywood

Clampetts streaming at Nitetime

Nitetime_Invaders

Live from the corners of imagination: music that swings from vintage vaudeville to futuristic oddities. Built to make you smile, shiver, and maybe tap your toes.

Nitetime_Invaders

nitetime.net[DJRC]