William Elvin is a Filipino singer-songwriter and performance artist. Having written a number of original theater productions, William Elvin is now offering his personal, introspective work that paints a musical picture of a journey from loneliness and depression to self-(re)discovery.

I don't enjoy bios. Writing a bio, about my self, has always seemed as an impersonal task that leaves me with a bad taste. Writing a bio is the art of writing about one's self while intentionally attempting to sound not like one's self. This is social media. And social media's intent, I think, is to connect with damn near anyone personally by some sort of non-personal digital medium. So I'm writing through me, from me and, in that, about me. I certainly hope so anyway.

It's a late night in LA and I'm stone cold sober. I have been for a month. I do not recommend sobriety. Everything becomes too clear. This is a habit I'm hoping to break very soon. I've been losing sleep to sobriety as I've had no whiskey to quiet the workings of my overactive noggin. I often wonder about could have been's, will be's, and what not's whilst I chase sleep. Sometimes I write a song I hate. And I lose sleep over it. Sometimes read a book. I find it's good practice to keep literature, pens and paper near the bed, or in my case, on the bed. You see, I live in a non-profit music venue here in La La Land. My room is very small and only accommodates a small amount of furniture. One side of my bed is my bedside table.

I do enjoy paper. Especially that of an old book. The smell, the smell the smell. Reading drives me to write. Novels and songs are very different animals. I'd rather raise a song than breed a novel any day of the week. Most of my songs, if not all, come from real moments in my life. Most of them self serving or self deprecating. I like to think that the two go hand in hand. I'm not sure if they're any good. I'm not sure if this attempt to replace the bio is any good. I can't say I know about things being good anyhow.

The truth is I don't write and create music because I think I'm any good. I just do it. And I think I'll continue to do it. I can't say I like it. If I didn't like it I probably wouldn't write it. There's a reason out there why I write and sing and play. I'm sure it's a wallop of a reason. Being a singer/songwriter means you're selfish. It, like all arts, is a selfish practice. I'm coming to terms with that.

Long story long, you can call me Frankie. I play guitar and sing about the things I do that I may or may not like.


Keeper Of The Dream

Email: booksymbolic@gmail.com

Welcome to The Fermentation Cycle – a 1940s industrial-noir duology told as a slow-burn audio experience.

Every day I drop a new chapter with its own lofi score running through a crackling 1940s radio: low drums, hiss, distant horns, machinery in the walls. You’re not just reading a book – you’re inside a failing dockside brewery, listening to the pipes, the ledgers, and the rats under the floor.

Book I follows The Violet Boar, a once-powerful brewery in a corrupt coastal city, held together by heat, debt, queer love, and bad decisions. It’s adult, cerebral, immersive: pressure, politics, undercity tunnels, rat “choirs,” and a city that launders violence into paperwork.

Start at the Prologue and move forward a chapter a day, or let the playlist run like a haunted late-night radio station.

🔧 Tone: harsh 1940s noir, queer, anti-capitalist, psychological, slow escalation
🎧 Sound: lofi, tape-hiss, radio crackle, industrial ambience
📚 Project: The Fermentation Cycle Duology – The Violet Boar & Rats

The Fermentation Cycle is an adult industrial-noir duology set in 1940s Brineford, where Dockstring Ward runs on steam, rumor, and the kind of “civic” language that ruins people with clean hands.
At its center squats the Violet Boar Brewery, a once-proud Kiln now being slurred as a Loom, sweating heat and debt into the street like a confession.
Elara Wexley inherits the place and its failures, walking under a city that keeps score even when it pretends it doesn’t.
Every pipe, ledger mark, and shipment becomes leverage in a quiet war between rival breweries, supply yards, and the polite enforcers who call it regulation.
The Ward itself is a chorus — bars, docks, backrooms, and watchers — deciding what the Boar is worth, and what Elara is allowed to be.
Below the surface, the undercity’s layered infrastructure and rat-choir ecology mirror the city’s neglect: history stacked like rot you can’t fully scrub.
The story turns pressure into plot: money, heat, reputation, and intimacy all pushing until something breaks and the break changes the map.
It’s harsh, cinematic, and funny in the dark, obsessed with inheritance, survival, and the cost of naming what’s really happening.

FACETS of LIGHT is the return from the odyssey of performing to a prerecorded track.  When you create your own beats, you have to make sure they are mixed and mastered properly for when played through the club speakers, you do your best to make this perfecting sounding audio file.  ROCK is about the imperfection, the discrepancies, playing the songs live with the risk of knowing it could all fall apart!

     Major influences: Incubus, Panic! at the Disco, Chester Bennington, No Doubt,  Santana, Dimebag Darrell, The Smashing Pumpkins, TOOL, Thrice.

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