Story
Ngoma Nlô
In ancient times, when the roads were made of red earth and the trees whispered secrets to the wind, there lived a sacred drum called Ngoma Nlô, the Talking Drum. It was no ordinary drum: carved from iroko wood and adorned with ancestral symbols, it had the power to carry messages between distant villages. Its sound was not just music, but language: each beat was a word, each rhythm an emotion.
The elders guarded it in the village of Ebong, and when a community needed help, advice, or a celebration, the drum spoke. Its echo crossed mountains, rivers, and jungles, carrying news, warnings, and blessings. It was the soul of communication, the spiritual heartbeat that united the people.

But one moonless night, a greedy stranger stole the drum. He took it far away, intending to sell it as mere art. At dawn, the villages awoke in silence. There were no songs, no answers. The mothers wept, the elders gathered, but without the drum, their words reached no one. The connection was broken.

For years, the communities lived in isolation, distrustful of one another. Traditions began to fade, like smoke in the wind. Until a boy named M'Boma, born in silence, dreamed of the drum. In his dream, the spirits showed him the way to where it was hidden.
Guided by the rhythm of his heart, M'Boma embarked on a journey through jungles and savannas. He found the drum in a forgotten cave, covered in dust but untouched. When he played it, the drum spoke again. Its voice awakened the ancestors, and its echo reunited the villages.

Now, each generation learns to read the rhythms of the drum. Not only to communicate, but to remember that tradition, like sound, lives on as long as it is shared. And that when the common voice is lost, the soul of the people is lost.

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Sonic Universe III

Ngoma Nlô IV

Verse
Kaleko haizea, hotz eta zuri, dirurik gabe, baina bihotzari, gitarrak dardara, oihu bat da, pobreen rocka, ez da isilduko ja.
Verse
Ez dugu urrezko disko bat, ezta limusinarik, ezta palmat, baina gure soinua kalean da, egia kantatzen, sua pizten da.
Chorus
Aita langilea, ama nekatua, haien ametsak dira gure partitura, ez da fama, ez da luxua, baina gure doinuak du indarra eta grina.
Bridge
Zer da rocka, ba? Ez da soilik soinua, bizitzaren kontra egindako borroka, pobreen ahotsa, altxatzen dena, ez da isiltzen, ezta ilunenean.
Final Chorus
Gaur gaua da gure eszenatokia, farolen azpian, bihotzaren magia, ez dugu dirurik, baina bai arima, rock and roll-a da gure arma fina.


Style of Music
Original film soundtrack. Full orchestra and choirs. Epic classical melody for films, urban rock, or melodic punk with intro, climax, and ending, hard rock notes... inspired by lyrics

Story
Farolen Azpian: The Story of a Scream
In a neighborhood forgotten by tourist maps, where the wind blew cold and white between cracked buildings, lived a group of young people with more fire in their hearts than coins in their pockets. They had no record label, no manager, no car to take them to concerts. But they had something you can't buy: a trembling guitar, a voice that wouldn't shut up, and a dream inherited from parents who worked themselves to the bone.
Every night, under the flickering streetlights, they set up their makeshift stage: a corner, a beer crate as a drum kit, a borrowed amplifier. The audience was the neighbors, the curious children, the elderly who still believed in music as consolation. They didn't sing for fame. They sang so the truth wouldn't rust.
Their rock wasn't made of gold, it was made of iron forged in daily struggle. The lyrics spoke of tired mothers, of fathers dreaming in silence, of rage turned into melody. Each chord was a spark. Each verse, a barricade against oblivion.
One night, while the city slept and the television spotlights shone on other worlds, they lit their own light. The guitar roared like a wolf. The singer's voice, broken but firm, shouted: "Ez da isiltzen, ezta ilunenean." It doesn't shut up, not even in the darkness.
And something changed.
It wasn't fame. It wasn't money. It was respect. The neighborhood began to beat to the rhythm of their music. The walls were filled with verses. The children learned that art can also be resistance. That rock and roll, when it comes from the soul, is a fine weapon.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment  ➕📃🎧  Add to your playlists...  Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here...   J. Bilbao

Sonic Universe 

Ez Gara Isilduko

Between myths, stories and galaxies... welcome to my Sonic Universe.

There are songs that aren't just heard... they are remembered like a dream or felt like a ritual.
I am J. Bilbao, creator of worlds where music intertwines with Basque and international legends, forgotten constellations, and stories you may have never heard. Every note I compose, every word I write, is born from a cross between the ancestral and the futuristic.

🎶 I'm arranging and uploading to the Sonic Universe space all my compositions from the last twenty-five years (2000-2025), +1000 original Soundtracks explore everything "Sonic Universe" & "Symphony"...

Here I don't just share songs... I share visions.

If you've ever been moved by a story that seemed written for you, if you've ever felt like a melody spoke to you from another time or planet... then this space is yours too.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment  ➕📃🎧
 Add to your playlists...  Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here...   J. Bilbao

Ez Gara Isilduko

JBilbao

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