My first upload in glorious stereo. Home-brewed so a bit rough around the edges.

Normal Day

Matters of great importance concerning the destruction or salvation of our world and the future of it.

Not really but there's still a bit of upset in there.

That's Got Nothing To Do With Music (acoustic demo)

Hi there spammers. If you're not a bot and you're capable of at the very least basic 2-way human communication then please actually listen to my track for a change instead of throwing a like at it without even playing and then removing said like days later when you find that you didn't hook me with the bait of whatever it is you're advertising. Seriously, what is it with the amount of adverts, spam and probably fake sex-accounts on this site? I make good music. Listen to it. Your ears will thank you.

"Classical Music"

Don't Think Of Me (early demo)

The "full band" version of the track uploaded on here a few months ago - though it is just me. Available for free download on Band Camp: https://jrdm.bandcamp.com/releases

Spam-bots beware. I know your game.

That's Got Nothing to Do With Music

Cover of my favourite song by Electric Six.

Jimmy Carter

The version of this song as it appears on the debut EP, which is available for sale. A bit of anger, a bit of disappointment, a bit of upset in there.

Smoke Without Fire

I'm a left bumcheek hanging from a noose. I'm the seashells in your stomach. I'm lime flavoured. I'm Michael Jackson trapped inside a slightly larger Michael Jackson. I'm toilet paper. I'm someone's lost ring. I'm a warm pot of earplugs on a Sunday afternoon. I'm a self-made turd. I'm vast and unsure of the meaning of life. I'm a cat's lips. I'm glitter on your lover's cheek. I'm a steaming idea. I'm gone, and then I'm back. I'm a dead end in a soft, locked room. I'm Barack Obama's very own automatic brush. I'm a harlequin baby. I'm a radish with a hat. I'm a melting electrician that's eaten too much pork. I'm the strength of a bendy spoon. I'm the growth of a priest's red hair. I'm a stained glass glove. I'm Hades on a fashionable weekend in the outskirts of cyberspace, twice. I'm a space invader. I'm cold and well-done over a businessman's vaginal noise. I'm delicately combed. I'm grey fabric wrapped in jealousy and love, but mostly jealousy. I'm a sign that your dinner is burning. I am your dinner. I'm an uncle in America. I'm losing. I'm a kinky leprechaun jumping on a purple water mattress trying to reach a sky filled with superheroes and a pheasant. I'm a poppadom (I'm not really a poppadom.) I'm the act of cunnilingus between fairies. I'm half a terabyte. I'm a villainous fool. I'm 98 bottles of beer on the wall, then I gave up. I'm a see-saw with a mildly amused prisoner holding a condom on one end and nothing on the other. I'm a cheeky oyster's tears. I'm not wearing underwear. I'm the removal of unhealthy vitamins for lesbians only. I'm an encoded message that says "Life isn't worth living without my Johnny!" I'm Google translated. I'm exactly the same height, width and depth as the amount of space you need. I'm a shockwave. I'm a bombed headquarters in Westham. I'm the muscle of over-exited worms. I'm five months overdue. I'm a badass cabinet. I'm abstract, and pink. I'm flying through my own fingernails. I'm an underground rusty flower. I'm everything good that's ever come from koala bears. I'm rainfall on election day. I'm chasing a clever midget in a kind of sexy way. I'm a raspberry molesting a disabled child. I'm a straw hat with a number of pendants hanging from it. I'm a notepad filled with war. I'm a small hole. I'm nature having an orgasm. I'm glued to a bald man's chest. I'm a rock with a candle painted on it. I'm the thing you turn on a radiator. I'm the space between the underside of a table and the floor. I'm logic corrupted. I'm the reality of baked syrup. I'm doing things which may have been done before. I'm the riff on a Funkadelic song. I'm that feeling you get when you feel like you haven't pooed enough. I'm forbidden. I'm the sound of three treasures cracking. I'm a female Morrissey dancing to the cries of hand-made clay sculptures being crushed beneath the weight of Buddah's belly outside a leisure centre on Christmas Eve, and I'm also a male Paris Hilton standing still as manufactured metal statues laugh beneath the weight of Jesus' foot inside a school on Boxing Day.

Jesse River Dylan Merry

Popular tracks