Strut  - The 3lms Alternate Cover +3db

Indie rock tune with great bass of Gregor Alič.

Single about how love can be sweet and how it can be hard, about how it pumps the heart beat up and how it can make one feel hopeless.

Mixed and mastered - A7 Recording Studio (http://www.a7recordingstudio.com)
Produced by Blaž Pavšič
Bass by Gregor Alič

▶MORE◀
Web: https://www.ladatinthebox.com/
Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/2nX96XjXTUZvCoNWTNNun3
SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/Ladat
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YouTube: www.youtube.com/Ladat77
FB: https://www.facebook.com/77Ladat

▶ARTWORK◀
MaKo: https://instagram.com/marketka1975

Hopeless, bitter and sweet

The drive doesn’t end when the picture is taken. It keeps going.

This album lives in the moments after memory settles. Late-night highways, empty gas stations, radios left on for comfort, and the slow realization that not every journey needs a destination. These songs aren’t about heartbreak at its loudest. They’re about what comes after, when the noise fades and motion becomes its own kind of healing.

Built around warm analog textures, steady rhythms, long instrumental passages, and restrained vocals, this record is meant to be played start to finish. It’s music for driving without urgency, thinking without spiraling, and letting the road carry the weight for a while.

If you connected with Polaroids of a Moving Car, this is the world it leaves behind.

Put it on. Keep driving.

— AZSolo

Exit Signs Blur

Ghosts of Christmas Past (Beyond & Before Music feat. Adelheide’s Wisdom)

A half-century captured in 82 BPM. Written in G-Minor, this haunting duet tells the story of a love frozen in time on Christmas Eve 1945, only to find its resolution fifty years later in a quiet hospital room.

Starting with a melancholic piano and evolving into a driving Celtic Punk beat at 150 BPM (double-time feel), this track symbolizes the sudden rush of a heart that hasn't truly beaten for decades. It is a pivotal moment in the Adelheide’s Wisdom saga and a cornerstone of the Sonic Universe for the novel 'Hinter uns das Land' (The Land Behind Us).

Genre: Celtic Fusion / Orchestral Punk / Storytelling

Themes: War, Loss, Reunion, Resilience

Project: Beyond & Before Music

Discover the journey: the-land-behind-us.com

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Ghosts of Christmas Past (Beyond & Before Music feat. Adelheide’s Wisdom)

Ein halbes Jahrhundert in 82 BPM. In G-Moll gehalten, erzählt dieses eindringliche Duett die Geschichte einer Liebe, die am Heiligabend 1945 in der Zeit einfror und erst fünfzig Jahre später in einem stillen Krankenzimmer ihre Auflösung findet.

Beginnend mit einem melancholischen Klavier, das sich in einen treibenden Celtic-Punk-Beat (150 BPM Double-Time-Feeling) verwandelt, symbolisiert dieser Track das plötzliche Rasen eines Herzens, das jahrzehntelang nicht wirklich geschlagen hat. Es ist ein zentraler Moment in der Adelheide’s Wisdom Saga und ein Eckpfeiler des Sonic Universe zum Roman „Hinter uns das Land“.

Genre: Celtic Fusion / Orchestral Punk / Storytelling

Themen: Krieg, Verlust, Wiedersehen, Resilienz

Projekt: Beyond & Before Music

Entdecke die ganze Geschichte: the-land-behind-us.com

Ghosts of Christmas Past

Billie Eilish - Ocean Eyes (Petter Reboli Remix)

I go through these occasional spells of making frequent little field recordings of everyday sound. The word “spell” is appropriate, because the making of field recordings opens up the experience of listening in a way that is spellbinding. The more you record, the more you pay attention for things to record, and in turn the more sounds register with you, whether you elect to record them or not. Such was the case when I used the bathroom at a favorite Mexican restaurant after a fine meal of enchiladas, during which we were entertained by a fantastic mariachi trio performing on worn old instruments: an acoustic guitar, a massive guitarron (the six-string acoustic bass), and a trumpet. Each was battered from years of use, and the music sounded all the better for it — and so my ears were tuned to the opportunity afforded by beat-up machines when I locked the bathroom door behind me. The tiny, clean space was irradiated by this pummeling churn, the mix of hum and rattle that is the industrial-strength fan running at high speed. Only later, when listening back, did I even notice the clatter of dishes from the nearby kitchen, so lost was I in the hypnotic whir.

Recorded on an iPhone 17 Pro at 7:57am on Sunday, December 21, 2026, in San Francisco’s Mission District.

Sound Bath(room)

Most of the field recordings that I post are almost exactly as I receive them at the end of the recording process: I hit record, I hit stop, and most of what happens in between is what I share. Which isn’t to say the audio is “pure” by any means. The device I elect to use for the recording, the time and circumstances when I choose to record, the (usually) continuous clip of 30 seconds I select from within the longer recording — all of these elements, among others, are beyond the bounds of anything that might be self-described as purism. The editing process in particular lends an aspect of self-reflection (even, at times, of what George Eliot taught me to term self-rebuke). When recording the sound emitted inside my refrigerator, for example, I immediately chopped off both ends of the process: first, when I closed the door after placing my phone inside the fridge, and second, when I opened the door to extract my phone. In between those mirror-image poles was a minute or so of sound, from which I then extracted what seemed, to me, like prime climate-controlled droning. Later, however, I kept thinking about the recording process, and I returned to what hadn’t made the initial cut. I combined the two ends into one half-minute whole. The clunky percussion of the fridge drawer and door being shut and, then, opened has a industrial-grade vibrancy. While its jittery, stuttering aspect places it in stark contrast to the monotone of the internal hum of the fridge, these two sets of sounds share a welcome practical simplicity, the beauty of an everyday mechanism at various stages of its utilization.

Recorded on an iPhone 17 Pro at 7:57am on Friday, December 19, 2026, in San Francisco’s Richmond District.

Start Stop

There was a break in the storm, a break between storms. A few days earlier, fire had taken out the city’s power, and now water threatened to do the same. The “atmospheric river,” the “Pineapple Express,” the potential “bomb cyclone” — so many colorful names for what amounted to endlessly grey days. An urban hike to the bay served as an unintentionally ironic way to spend the time when rain wasn’t prohibitively pouring — a walk between the raindrops, as the song goes. Being outside felt good, even as the gathering clouds encouraged a near-term retreat. At the water, the waves seemed more powerful than usual, a microcosm of the week’s weather: fierce pounding, followed by relative quiet, then more water-on-land violence. They're called “breakers” for a reason. I raised my phone and hit the red record button, and almost instantly a distant emergency vehicle’s siren inserted itself, underlining the severity of current circumstances. Listening back to the recording, after I got home, I knew to expect that siren, and still I had to restart the track a few times, because I wasn’t certain if the siren I heard was coming out of my speakers or leaking in from outside, where clouds grew darker by the minute.

Recorded on an iPhone 17 Pro at 3:56pm on Wednesday, December 24, 2025, at Baker Beach in San Francisco.

Storm Breakers

Our Endless War

Let Me Burn

When a Demon Defiles a Witch

An album about the cycles of mental illness and recovery, Mazmere's debut album is a deep and sometimes difficult look into the mind of singer/songwriter Jake Sinetos. Mazmere explain this process though cryptic lyrics and noisy intense soundscapes.

1 - Scribbles

Mazmere is the project of Jake Sinetos, a Peak District based artist from San Francisco. His sound mixes post-punk, ambient noise, and raw, cinematic moods. After years making music with various projects, Jake built Mazmere as a space to chase something more uncertain, more human, and sometimes a little unsettling.