🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
    ✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
    ⚠️ Not for commercial use.

"Clear Skies (The Reckoning)"
Genre: Reggae-rap with West Coast swagger
BPM: 90–100
Mood: Smooth knives in velvet pockets
WHAT THIS IS:
✅ A hypocrite’s autopsy set to smoked-out grooves
✅ Lyrical warfare draped in melodic basslines
✅ For creators who move while haters annotate
✅ No trap clichés — just live-band funk meets AI-age truth
WHAT THIS ISN’T:
❌ Another “look how rich I am” flex
❌ Mumble rap or TikTok bait
❌ AI worship — it’s about using tools, not losing soul
❌ For people who think “viral” means “good”


Clear Skies (The Reckoning)
[Intro]
(Texted your ghostwriter while talkin' trash...)
(Funny how the loudest critics... never check their drafts...)
[Hook]
Talkin' down, but you're watchin' me rise
Your shade can't hide from these algorithm skies
(Mm, ironic... Stay pressed...)
[Chorus]
You mock the wave but still wade in the shallow
Afraid to admit you borrowed your shadow
Style ain't taught - it's the answer they lack
So they paint their fear as a creative tax
(Autograph this L... 404 flair...)
[Verse 1]
Here's the blueprint of a hater's confession
Calls it cheating when he fails at expression
Wants my flow, but his hands stay stiff
Can't sign his work - so he forges a diss
Funny how the emptiest takes sound the same
Like a parrot in a museum, yelling at frames
(Still life... Frame that... Right click, save as...)
[Chorus]
You mock the wave but still wade in the shallow
Afraid to admit you borrowed your shadow
Style ain't taught - it's the answer they lack
So they paint their fear as a creative tax
(Gallery closed... Exit stage ego...)
[Verse 2]
Style's the answer - ask the page
Hemingway exited the coward's cage
You? You edit life, then claim it's fake
I live the lines you hesitate to make
Your voice? A footnote. Mine? The whole book
Keep debating fonts - I'm the hook, the look, the crook
(that stole the show while you took notes)
(Ghostwriter's remorse... Check the receipt...)
[Bridge]
You ran the lyrics through a bot
Just to see if you were caught -
Congrats, the code don't lie
Now ask yourself who's terrified
(Diagnosis: envy... Prescription: create...)
[Chorus]
You mock the wave but still wade in the shallow
Afraid to admit you borrowed your shadow
Style ain't taught - it's the answer they lack
So they paint their fear as a creative tax
(Signature required...)
[Outro]
So what's louder - the hand that steers
Or the mouth that just echoes and fears?
(You didn't lose the path... you refused to map it...)

clear sky reggae west coast laid back

a welcome song for Laura with a skill of fire cupping. please visit her. 

Welcome On Board, Laura

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

TWIN FLAMES: COSMIC BS DETECTOR
A funkadelic–disco roast built from my article on the twin-flame belief system:
https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/twin-flames-talk

Twin Flame BS Detector

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.


WHO DARES? The Reckoning Within
Who This Is For:
This is for the ones who feel the fracture. For the man who is tired of being told he's toxic or useless. For the woman who is exhausted from the "strong independent" lie. For those who look at the dating world, the endless blame game, and feel in their gut that we're missing the real point. This is for anyone ready to ask the harder questions, even when the answers demand something from them.
What This Is:
A sonic dissection of the collective spiritual crisis. This track is the funcadelic score to my blog post, Reclaiming Wholeness: https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-path-to-collective-healing.
Think of it as the lyrical exhumation of the themes I explore there—the father-shaped void, the war between masculine and feminine energies, and our reduction to mere utilities. It holds your hand through the chaos and, at the bridge, offers the undeniable, common-sense truth we've collectively lost: healing begins within. The outro is a punch to the chest, a final warning and a call to arms.
This piece, Funkfracture, stems from my direct analysis of the modern psyche. It is the sound of a population breaking under the weight of its own disconnection.
What This Is NOT:
•	This is NOT a "relationship hack" or dating advice.
•	This is NOT another track blaming one gender for all our problems.
•	This is NOT a comfortable, easy listen filled with empty platitudes.
•	This is NOT establishment-friendly. It does not water down the message.
This is the conversation we're all avoiding. The final question is the most important one you'll answer today.
Credits:
A Funkfracture manifesto by Dr P. Mester ND. A synthesis of perspectives from Peterson, Hellinger, Müller, and Csernus, channeled through the lens of my work on collective healing.

The Archetypes (A Director's Note):
The characters are not people; they are the warring parts of our collective psyche.
•	SOPHIA: Divine Wisdom. The feminine principle that is exhausted by its own defensive strength, yearning to reconnect with its source.
•	PERSEUS: The Guided Hero. The masculine principle that must use reflection (the mirror) to navigate the maze and face the monster without turning to stone. He represents the potential for re-integration.
•	MARCUS: The Wounded Warrior. The masculine trapped in rigid, defensive skepticism, rejecting the spiritual nourishment required to heal.
•	ISADORA: Gift of the Goddess. The embodied, graceful feminine that has already achieved inner balance and serves as a beacon.
This isn't a story about them. It's a diagnosis of what's missing within us.
On The "Nikita" Reference:
The lyric isn't an attack on a character; it's an indictment of the weaponized narrative.
Shows like Nikita (and the entire Hollywood machinery behind them) don't create "strong women." They create emotionally detached female weapons, portraying a distorted, hyper-violent "independence" that severs the feminine from its true strength—vulnerability, connection, and wisdom.
This is not feminism. This is a false idol designed to make both men and women confused, hostile, and disconnected. It's a psyop sold as entertainment.
When "Nikita chops the heads off heavyweight Navy SEAL dudes," it's not empowerment. It's a lie that makes real healing impossible.

Who Dares_ The Reckoning Within.

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.
A full-length scat jazz duet, a tribute to the raw, improvisational spirit of the 1950s. This isn't a song with words; the human voice is the instrument—the trumpet, the saxophone, the rhythm section. We often forget that this art form, this vocal improvisation, is a monumental skill, often more demanding than singing lyrics itself. It's pure, unadulterated musical conversation.

This is a shout-out to the hallowed ground that birthed this sound: Birdland. The iconic New York club where the titans of jazz forged the language of modern music. This track is for Charlie "Bird" Parker, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Count Basie, the divine Ella Fitzgerald, and the soulful Jimmy Smith on the Hammond B-3.

What this is:
A cinematic journey. A rainy night arrival in a Cadillac. A smoky club. The conversation between two voices and a roaring big band. A story told through bourbon, Havana smoke, and a smoke ring that morphs into a heart. It's a celebration of rhythm, melody, and the joy of swing.

What this is not:
Words. Compromise. Background music. A cliché. Corny.

So, park your Caddy, step inside, and let the rhythm move you.

Skat at Birland's

Ez a dal egy negyvenéves barátság, amit heavy metal balladába sűrítettünk.

Ez egy tisztelgés egy olyan ember előtt, aki oszlopa a családjának, a standjának és a gyerekkori emlékeinknek. Több mint négy évtizede egy állandó: a mestersége mestere, egy olyan gondoskodó, akinek a szíve olyan hatalmas, mint a legéndás étvágya, és egy rock and roll lélek, akit egy soproni piaci legenda testébe zártak.

Nem egy emberről éneklünk, akit a mérete határoz meg; egy olyan emberről éneklünk, akinek a jelenléte túl nagy bármilyen hétköznapi keretre. Nem rajta nevetünk; az örömmel nevetünk, amit a karaktere hozott az életünkbe egy egész életen át. A "Lepkehájas Arany" nem csak egy sajt; az odaadásának arany standardje. A "rock and roll parádé" nem egy poén; az a lélek hangja.

Ez nem paródia. Ez egy arckép. Egy hangos, őszinte és szeretetteljes hommage egy igazi karakternek, egy hű barátnak és egy olyan embernek, akit szerencsések vagyunk, hogy tízéves korunktól ismerünk.

Ez neked szól, tesó. A kést feléd.

Lepkehájas Arany

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

A slow-burn jazz moment about the kind of night that stays with you long after you grow up.
Two kids, a stolen car, a quiet field, windows fogged by breath and nerves. The sky dark blue, the world half-asleep, and that first spark of courage that feels too big for your chest.

It’s one of my my story, sure… But it’s also anyone’s who ever sat in a passenger seat with a racing pulse, hoping the moment wouldn’t end. The innocence, the tension, the gentleness, the push-pull. That soft make-out that wasn’t about bravado, just instinct and curiosity and a little bit of bravery with a hefty vulnerability.

Candlelight energy without the candles. A memory told through slow jazz, warm tones, and that calm glow before morning breaks.
If it reminds you of someone you once were, or someone you loved, then it found the right ears.

Fog On The Glass

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

**(Inspired by the architectural wisdom of Jordan B. Peterson's "12 Rules for Life")**

Chaos knocks at the door. You answer with a groove.

This is my sonic take on building order from the mess—twelve raw, rhythmic lessons for when the world gets loud. It’s the soundtrack to squaring your shoulders, sweeping your own floor, and finding meaning in the weight you carry. No sermons, just a swinging beat and a call to build your tower from the wreckage.

**What it is:**
A funky, percussive anthem for the daily grind. Upright bass lines that walk like you own the sidewalk. Congas that feel like the heartbeat you forgot you had. That moment in the kitchen when chopping onions turns into a soulful, hip-swaying ritual of purpose. The antidote, in 4/4 time.

**What it is not:**
A lecture. A complaint. A bubble-wrapped safe space. The easy way out.


Antidote

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

A storm-lit lounge breathing slow jazz and old truth.
This piece is a strike against the soft myth we keep repeating like a charm: “don’t judge.”
Forget that.
This is the counter-myth. The spine-restoring version.

Judgment isn’t cruelty. Judgment isn’t ego.
It’s the filter between you and the fog.
It’s the ancient instinct your blood still remembers,
the lighthouse that cuts through the stories people wear like costumes.

This track sits in the smoke, sipping clarity.
A cinematic hip-hop monologue with Rhodes, upright bass, noir horns,
and thunder rolling behind every line.
Not polished. Not polite.
Truth never is.

This is for anyone tired of pretending softness equals virtue.
Eyes open. Guard up. Heart intact.

WHAT THIS IS

A lounge-lit philosophy session with sharp edges.
A psychological teardown of the “don’t judge” slogan.
A soundtrack for people who want honesty more than comfort.

WHAT THIS IS NOT

Not a call to be cruel.
Not moral cosplay.
Not that plastic “good vibes only” mantra.

This is discernment with a pulse.

Do Judge

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

“Basement Groove” is a slow-burn, Motown-inspired midnight jam built on soft rhythm, vintage soul, and a sensual vocal presence. It leans into the intimate side of classic group harmonies: velvet bass lines, brushed drums, warm brass, and a vocal delivery that feels close enough to touch.
It’s a song about chemistry in a hidden room, two strangers orbiting each other in the glow of old vinyl, and the quiet confidence of letting the moment unfold without rushing it.
It carries dust, heat, and heart in equal measure.

What it is:
A romantic, soulful slow jam with vintage influence.
Warm, sensual, candle-lit energy shaped by classic harmony groups.
A story told through subtle movement and emotional restraint.
Built for late nights, headphones, dim lights, and stolen glances.

What it is not:
Not retro pastiche or cheesy nostalgia cosplay.
Not a loud, fast, club track.
Not explicit, aggressive, or shock-value romance.
Not a gimmick-driven “throwback.”

Just a quiet, confident slow jam with soul.

Basement Groove

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.
A slow-burn soul track about two people who met as teenagers and somehow stayed choosing each other through every decade that followed.
It looks back on first glances, first touches, stolen moments between classes, and the kind of young love that should have faded but never did.
Now older, sitting together with autumn settling around them, they remember the certainty they felt long before they understood what “forever” meant.

This song holds onto quiet tenderness, the sweetness of shared history, and the ache of time passing without erasing what mattered.
It’s not nostalgia for the sake of nostalgia. It’s the realization that real love becomes more sacred the longer it survives.

What it is:

A romantic, soulful reflection on lifelong connection

Warm, melodic, intimate, rooted in memory

A tribute to the small moments that became everything

A slow Motown-influenced groove designed for hearts, not dance floors

What it is not:

Not a fairy tale or idealized fantasy

Not youth-worship or sentimental mush

Not a “perfect couple” story

Not rushed, flashy, or performative

Reminiscing

NOT HERE TO TRADE HOLLOW FOLLOW FOR FOLLOW NOR NEED LIKES OR ANY PROPOSAL, TY!

"Naturopath by profession, rhythm-maker by passion. Exploring the deep connections between ancestral wisdom, nutrition, and sound. Funk-infused truths, anything from  fermented beets to delicious raw beats, and messages that challenge the norm."

clear sky reggae west coast laid back

Dr Mester Funk