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

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

“The Air Gets Thinner” is a song about what happens when you grow in a direction the people around you never chose for themselves.
Not the glamorous, inspirational version of growth, but the quieter, lonelier kind.
The kind that creates distance, not because you wanted separation, but because the elevation itself changes the view.

This is for anyone who has felt unseen not because they were failing, but because they were becoming.
Anyone who has been treated with indifference, dismissal, or hostility the moment they stepped out of the version of themselves others were comfortable with.
Anyone who noticed the silence from friends and family when their work finally carried weight.

This is not a complaint.
This is not a plea for validation.
This is not a bitter letter to the past.

This is an acknowledgment of a universal threshold:
When the “air gets thinner,” most people stay below.
Not because they are bad, but because a higher view forces confrontation with their own stillness.

This song speaks to the ones who climbed anyway.
Quiet, steady, persistent.
Not louder than others, just clearer with themselves.

If you hear yourself in it, you’re not alone.
There is a whole community of people climbing invisible mountains, losing old connections, and gaining something harder to define but far more valuable:
Perspective.

WHAT IT IS

A song about internal expansion and external distance

A reflection of the tension between growth and familiarity

A mirror for anyone who has been quietly punished for evolving

A tribute to the ones who keep climbing without applause

WHAT IT IS NOT

Not a diss track

Not a display of superiority

Not self-pity

Not a cry for help

Not a judgment of those who stayed behind

This song doesn’t tell anyone what they should have done.
It simply honors the truth of what you did.

Air Gets Thinner

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.
Mi ez: Melankolikus roast a láthatóság-kultuszról. Modellek? Nem emberek, hanem eszmék—fényvisszaverők, akik állnak, sétálnak, és ebből élnek. Abszurd szakmák, látszat-rituálék, kollektív cirkusz, amit te is tapsolsz a páholyból.

Ami ez nem: Szerelmes dal. Tisztelgés. Feel-good himnusz. Ez tükör a társadalomnak, ami felszínt eszik tartalomnak.

Cinikus, költői, vicces—deep-house groove-val, lebegő arpeggiókkal, pengeéles szöveggel röhögve a cirkuszon.

Hallgasd, ha bírod a tükröt. Hagyd ki, ha félted az illúzióid.
(Ad lib: „Ragyogj. Sétálj. Létezz. És vedd észre: a poén mindannyiunkon van.”)

SZAKMA: LÁTSZANI

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

What it is: A deep, melodic roast of the modern obsession with visibility. A song about models, yes—but not people, the idea. About careers built on reflecting light, standing still, and being looked at. About absurd professions, rituals of appearance, and the collective circus we all applaud from the sidelines.

What it is not: A love song. A tribute. A glossy, feel-good anthem. It’s not here to coddle anyone or make anyone “pretty.” It’s the uncomfortable reflection staring back at a society that confuses surface with substance.

Equal parts cynical, poetic, and hilarious, this track pairs hypnotic deep-house grooves with razor-sharp commentary. Groovy synths, floating arpeggios, and atmospheric textures cradle the sarcasm while the lyrics drag you through the ridiculousness of the spectacle.

Listen if you want a mirror held to the absurd. Skip it if you need your illusions protected.

(Ad lib style)
“Shine. Strut. Exist. And maybe, just maybe… notice the joke is on all of us.”

Being Seen (ENGLISH)

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


Cos'è: Roast melancolico sul culto della visibilità moderna. Modelle? Non persone, ma idee—riflettori di luce, che stanno, camminano e vivono di sguardi. Assurde professioni, rituali di apparenza, circo collettivo che applaudi dalla platea.

Cos'è non: Canzone d'amore. Omaggio. Inno feel-good. È uno specchio scomodo per una società che scambia superficie per contenuto.

Cinico, poetico, divertente—deep-house groovy, arpeggi fluttuanti, testi taglienti che ridono del circo.

Ascoltalo se reggi lo specchio. Salta se tieni alle illusioni.
(Ad lib: «Brilla. Cammina. Esisti. E nota: la battuta è su tutti noi.»)

Professione Essere Visibili

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

They say love is blind.
That’s the lie we repeat when seeing becomes inconvenient.

This piece lives in the contradiction. Love as vision and love as refusal. Love as the moment you recognize someone fully, and love as the moment you decide not to act on what you recognize. Not ignorance. Not innocence. Choice.

Love is not blindness.
It’s selective sight.

It sharpens perception, then asks what you’re willing to do with what you see. The paradox isn’t that love hides the truth. The paradox is that truth often arrives first, and we negotiate with it afterward. We rename warning signs as depth. We aestheticize chaos. We defend what hurts us because it feels meaningful.

This song sits in that uncomfortable space. Between clarity and desire. Between responsibility and fantasy. Between knowing better and wanting anyway.

What this is:
A mirror.
A slow, rhythmic confrontation with self-deception dressed up as romance.
An examination of how love exposes us before it ever excuses us.

What this is not:
A celebration of naivety.
A defense of dysfunction.
A soft-focus myth about fate and blindness.

Love doesn’t fail because we can’t see.
It fails because we see enough…
and still decide to look away.

That’s the blind spot.

Love In The Blind Spot

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."

Fog On The Glass

Dr Mester Funk

Related tracks