Dial-Up Dreams is a fast, mid-to-late 90s pop-punk nostalgia ride through everything we grew up on before the world went digital.
Skateboards on hot pavement.
Saturday morning cartoons.
Landline phones.
Blockbuster nights.
Mixtapes made for someone you were afraid to confess feelings to.
Late-summer freedom before adulthood replaced magic with responsibility.

Static Playground captures the innocence, energy, and emotional punch of Gen-X youth in ten short, hook-loaded tracks — each one a snapshot of life before the screens took over.

This is the soundtrack to the last analog childhood.

Dial-Up Dreams

Sunshine on the Blacktop

Set In Her Ways - Demo - 10.22.24

You crash the meeting like it’s your show,
Gold hair, fake care, yeah, we all know.
You talk big dreams, we do the work,
You’re the glitter stuck to the paperwork.

Nonprofit hearts, you profit loud,
Selfie flash in every crowd.
We build change, you build your brand,
Mic in your hand like a command.

Hey! Blond appendix—cut it out!
You're not the core, you're just the clout!
We’re bleeding art, you’re striking a pose,
We see the mask, and everyone knows!

You drop “vision” in every line,
But your vision’s just a mirror shine.
You say “team,” but mean “applause,”
You’re a clause in your own cause.

We wrote the script, you stole the scene,
Plastic crown, punk queen.

Hey! Blond appendix—cut it out!
You're not the soul, just dead weight now!
We’ll play our chords, you chase your fame,
But this whole stage won’t spell your name!

Hey! Blond appendix—cut it out!
You're not the cause, you're just the clout!
We’re the noise that breaks your frame,
You’ll fade out, we’ll keep the flame!

(Yeah, keep the flame...)
Good riddance to your name.

I Wonder

Diffuser

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