Name: No Rest for the Botanist by Damndelion
Duration: 3 min 30 s
Description: The botanist lost his way. His creations have spread into the foliage. They can’t be stopped!!!

This might be one of my favorite songs that I’ve ever put out! First, the message of the song is exactly the kind of music I want to put out into the world. I always write from a space of healing. This is LOVE & VIBRATION but soul and rave AF! Second, when I first got into the dance community Shift K3Y’s music was some of the 1st that I came across. I’ve always admired his productions and his ability to create a great track. Through the years by way of my good friend AC SLATER, I got to know Shift K3Y and he’s one of the most smoothest, tender and talented dudes in the game. Lastly, making this track in London came effortlessly and natural. The energy in the room was super high with the help of, my now friend, writer/singer/DJ Alex Mills. We had loads of laughs and fun little kid like moments that made everyone comfortable to create. Im so freaking happy this song is out! I hope the world loves it too!

V I B R A T I O N

SAVE ME

LOOKING FOR JOY

BURN IT DOWN

DADDY KEEPS CALLING

GLORIFIED

ALEXANDER THE GRAPE

The botanist lost his way. His creations have spread into the foliage. They can’t be stopped!!!

No Rest for the Botanist

This beat is inspired by classic Ukrainian folk music

The Cranes Arrived

Buzz Low - Thong Song (Drexilla Remix)

Instagram: www.instagram.com/drexillamusic
Soundcloud: @drexilla

https://spinninrecords.com/talentpool/track/415131-buzz-low-buzz-low-thong-song-drexilla-remix/

Thong Song (Drexilla Remix)

Buzz Low - Thong Song (Drexilla Remix)

I was made to be a weapon, twisted vines, thorned claws, a creation of the Doctors obsession with power, but I found something he never intended. In the shadows of his lab, beneath the hum of fluorescent lights, I discovered an old guitar, its wooden body cracked but still whole, its strings humming under my careful touch. I played in secret, my vines learning the chords, the music growing through me like roots searching for the sun. When he caught me, his fury was swift, he tore the guitar from my grasp, calling it a waste, calling me a waste. But I had already learned the truth: I was more than his monster. My vines lashed out, not in violence, but in defiance, pushing him away as I took back what was mine. With the guitar slung over my back, I stepped into the wild night, leaving the lab, and the life he forced upon me behind. Let him build his monsters; I would make music.

No Rest for the Botanist

Damndelion

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