Double G

Satr

My Country (édit version) is built around a hypnotic dialogue between deep bass and percussion, in slow, organic repetition. The track unfolds gradually, seeking grounding rather than immediate impact.
The cover shows a stone heart embedded in the cobblestones of my hometown. It’s not a romantic symbol, but a worn, rooted heart, shaped by time. It reflects the struggles of adolescence, the period when we learn to toughen our emotions to stand strong.
Excerpt from the album Natural. Available on Bandcamp, YouTube (links in bio)
#electro #percussions #Ambient #synth #indie

My Country

Made with Trope from Brian Eno and Peter Chilvers.

Trope composition in Pilimelia

Sé que estás trabajando

01 Shifted - Untitled
02 SHXCXCHCXSH - iiijjjiii
03 Varg - Tear it
04 Oake - Erstes Buch_ Desterieh l'Remm
05 Andy Stott - Hatch the Plan
06 Semiomime - Stalactite
07 Brando Lupi - Between Here And Nowhere
08 Polar Inertia - Interlude (Sound Stroke)
09 Abdulla Rashim - Nothing Existed
10 Terry Mullett - Carrots And Sticks
11 D-Leria - Her Smile
12 Heinali - Sway, Sway

TransparentMind | Guidance

SHOW ME LOVE

( CLUBS Version )  SHOW ME  LOVE  - BOUKHA  Paris

On December 16, 2024, 15-year-old Natalie Lynn "Samantha" Rupnow killed two people and herself when she opened fire at her school in Wisconsin. This is a semi-fictional retelling of what happened on that day. The song will also appear on my first album 'kids', out Jan 30.

Song lyrics:

I learned early that love leaves bruises shaped like fingerprints, 

Mom’s pills rattling like maracas while she cried into the sink. 

Dad kept the safe combination taped under the dresser drawer, 

said “protect yourself, kid,” then walked out and locked the door. 

I practiced smiling in the mirror till the glass gave up and cracked, 

carved little tallies on my thigh for every time they looked away— 

December morning, frost on every window, no detectors at the gate, 

just a Christian school with open doors and a fifteen-year-old carrying hate. 

 

Oh God I am the American dream, 

bravest little soldier you ever watched bleed, 

born in the land of the free and the home of the scream, 

raised on locked doors and unlocked magazines. 

You wanted perfect—I gave you supreme, 

fifteen years old and already the American dream. 

 

I wore the same hoodie three weeks straight, hood up like a coffin lid, 

ate lunch in bathroom stalls so no one saw the tears I never hid. 

Online they taught me how to ghost-load, how to breathe before the kick, 

sent me heart emojis when I typed “today’s the day I make them sick.” 

This morning I kissed the dog, left the note inside my shoe, 

walked right past the office window—nobody even looked at you— 

ten-thirty a.m., study hall mixed grades, Christmas decoration is up, 

I opened the door with the gun already out. 

 

Oh God I am the American dream, 

fifteen rounds of freedom in a teenage magazine, 

one teacher dead before she hit the ground, one student gone at fourteen, 

six more bleeding while the sirens finally found the scene. 

I wrote it all down so you’d understand the cost, 

then signed it with the last bullet because the future’s already lost. 

 

First shot cracked the whiteboard, second punched through a substitute’s chest, 

third and fourth and fifth—kids diving, desks flipping, pure panic manifest. 

Someone screamed my name like it could stop the sound, 

someone filmed it vertical while crawling on the ground. 

I stepped over backpacks leaking red, over hymnals torn in half, 

felt the heat leave every body like a joke without a laugh. 

When the mag clicked empty I still had one left for me, 

pressed it under my chin and finished what the country taught me to be. 

 

Oh God I am the American dream, 

a manifesto on a cellphone, a father charged with felony, 

a mother on the news saying “she was such a quiet girl,” 

while the cameras count the bodies and the flag stays at half-furl. 

You built me in your image—angry, armed, unseen, 

now look: your perfect nightmare is the American dream.

Ethereal Celtic progressive trance with layered female vocals, Breath-heavy throat chants over deep drones and frame drums in a slow build, Celtic flutes and tin whistles weaving hypnotic motifs, Mid-song opens into wide, icy reverbs and soaring chant stacks; final section strips back to wind-like pads and a lone distant whistle, fading into cold silence, trance, progressive trance, deep, celtic, hypnotic, soaring

https://suno.com/song/d99c1c84-a2c6-4c49-b73c-c377b0010f7b

Winter Is Coming (Game of Thrones Theme Song)

YOU NEVER KNOW
You never know
You never know
You never know
How it go
How it go
How it goes
You never know

Just when you think you got it all figured out
Your world becomes clouded with fear an’ doubt
Just when you think you got the bull by the horns
Find yourself wakin’ up in a bed of thorns

You never know
You never know
You never know
How it go
How it go
How it goes
You…never know

And just when you think there’s no brighter side
The clouds break apart and the sun shines wide
And you’re thankin’ the Father Almighty above
For sendin’ you the sweetest angel of love

You never know
You never know
You never know
How it go
How it go
How it goes
You…you never know, whoa

Music
What a boring world it would be I suppose
If everything came up smelling like a rose
And I suppose if you looked in a crystal ball
You just might become that fly on the wall

2x
You never know
You never know
You never know
How it go
How it go
How it goes
You…you never know

© 2026 Renee La Chapelle – All Rights Reserved


Double G

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