Step into a primal soundscape where the earth speaks, drums awaken, and ancient spirits dance through fire. Ritual Fire is a deep tribal journey blending pounding percussion, hypnotic basslines, and ethereal melodies.

This track evokes the energy of ancient ceremonies, where desire burns, the soul stirs, and the rhythm pulls you into a trance. Flutes cry in the wind, voices rise from the ground, and the night becomes alive with movement and magic.

Ritual Fire

Weed (Live)

Buy on Bandcamp

Boots on the floor, elbows on the bar — this is the full pub version of Hell’s Bells and Empty Barrels. A riotous stomp-along packed with shouts, claps, cheek, and chaos. From stolen kisses to spilled pints, every verse swings with swagger and singalong energy. Pour it loud and raise a glass.

[LYRICS]

I punched the jukebox for a jig,
Spilled half me pint on Old Man Briggs.
He cursed, I laughed, then took a bow,
The crowd just roared — they liked it now.

Slipped on a boot that wasn’t mine,
Kissed the wrong lass — said, “You’ll do fine.”
Got slapped so hard I saw the stars,
The band struck up — I missed me bars!

Raise yer mugs and bang the floor!
We’ve all been thrown out once or more!
Love and bruises, rum and sin—
And I’d bloody do it all again!

AND I’D BLOODY DO IT ALL AGAIN!
HEY!

Won a card game with a stolen ace,
Till Maggie’s cousin showed his face.
He swung a stool — I ducked and tripped,
And knocked the barkeep as I slipped.

She spilled gin down me bloody shirt,
Said “Pay me back, you cheeky flirt!”

I grinned, she poured, then said “Alright
Now mop it up — or take a bite!

I said: “Who drank all the bitter, boys?”
“YOU DID, LAD — and made some noise!”
I said: “Who kissed someone’s mum last night?”
“YOU DID, LAD — AND SAID SHE’S RIGHT!”

They chased me round the busted drum,
I hid behind the barmaid’s bum.

She winked, I ducked — we kissed again,
She said, “Next round? You’re buyin’, then.”

Woke up wedged ‘tween stool and door,
Me boots were swapped, me knuckles sore.
A note was pinned to me left thigh:
“You owe three drinks and one black eye.”

The priest walked in with Maggie’s hat—
I said, “She’s not mine! …Well, not like that!”

He prayed, I cursed, then rang the bell
“Let holy water come from hell!”

Raise yer mugs and bang the floor!
We’ve all been thrown out once or more!
Love and bruises, rum and sin—
And I’d bloody do it all again!

And I’d bloody do it all again!
Aye, I’d bloody do it all again!

With me boots, me sins, me grin
I’d bloody do it ALL again!
So fill that pint and count me in!

Hell’s Bells and Empty Barrels - Live & Loose at the Barrel

The Day The Earth Stood Stupid

I’ve always lived at the crossroads of music and poetry — where feeling becomes form, and melody turns memory into meaning. Whether it’s a lingering jazz note, a well-placed rhyme, or a shift in tempo that tells a deeper story, I’m drawn to that quiet magic where art reflects life with a little more style.

My roots are in classic music — the kind that doesn’t chase the moment but lingers with you long after the last note. Over time, that love expanded into poetry writing and jazz — especially the kind that swings, speaks, and smirks all at once. Jazz, to me, isn’t just a genre; it’s a personality. A conversation. A little tilt of the head and a grin that knows more than it says.

When I set out to create an album, it’s rarely just a collection of songs. I approach it like a personal playlist — one that drifts and flows as if the entire tracklist were one long, uninterrupted piece. Each track leans into the next, shifting mood, pace, or voice, but always carrying the same thread of feeling. I want you to listen the way I do — not as a shuffle of moments, but as a cinematic arc. One breath that lasts an hour.

Lyrically, my work is rooted in lived experience. Sometimes it’s obvious. Other times it’s just the skeleton of a memory, dressed up in wit, irony, or longing. I draw from real-life events, then let the poet in me twist, stretch, or sweeten them to taste. Depending on the tone of the album — playful, romantic, nostalgic, or something in between — I try to keep the emotional truth intact while giving it a fresh coat of creativity. A little humor where it fits. A deeper dive where it hurts.

My newest jazz album continues this tradition — short-lined swing tracks, conversational duets, and tongue-in-cheek storytelling. It’s an homage to late-night alleyway ballads, rooftop serenades, and train station goodbyes — all bound together with a sense of charm and cohesion. Each song is its own little scene, but together they tell a story — one you can revisit with each replay.

Thanks for stopping by my profile. I hope you find something that earns a spot on your repeat-play list — a melody, a lyric, or a moment that feels like it was written just for you.

Hell’s Bells and Empty Barrels - Live & Loose at the Barrel

Dikheel Aldikheel

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