A retuned hymn from Isaac Watts, giving voice again to the praise of our Triune God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. These words remind us that every true joy, every cleansing mercy, every spark of spiritual life, flows from the fountain of the God who has no beginning and no end.

The Father pours out streams of comfort.
The Son gives His own blood as our life.
The Spirit turns our dry hearts into gardens.

This is worship aimed upward not inward, not nostalgic for its own sake, but rooted in what is eternally true. May these melodies help you lift your eyes and taste again the boundless love of the Lord, “that sea of life and love unknown, without a bottom or a shore

Soli Deo Gloria.

Praise to the Everblessed Trinity

Rose’s Journey

“The Focus Group” is where the Oinkment machine brings in the experts—clipboards out, smiles painted on, ready to test your dreams, dissect your fears, and package your personality for mass consumption.

This track blends pop energy with boardroom coldness: bright melodies over the quiet dread of being observed, measured, and molded. It’s the song where your opinions aren’t really yours anymore—they’re data points waiting to be exploited.

Think fluorescent lights, stale coffee, forced laughter, and a dozen strangers deciding what you really want.
If you’ve ever wondered what it feels like to be both the product and the experiment… this one hits home.

Welcome to The Focus Group:
Where your soul is “valuable feedback,”
your thoughts are “user errors,”
and your heart is just another metric on the spreadsheet.

Press play—your response will be recorded for quality assurance.

The Focus Group

“Ad Break” is the moment in the album where the music pauses… and the marketing team pounces.
This track plays like a bright, hyper-polished commercial intermission—the kind that barges in loud, smiling, and absolutely certain it knows what you need before you do.

Sparkling jingles, sugary slogans, and a confidence only a salesman could love.
It’s fast.
It’s fake.
And it’s exactly how every real ad break feels: intrusive, shiny, and a little too good at getting under your skin.

Here, the world of Oinkment cranks the charm to blinding levels—pitching hope, healing, and happiness with all the grace of a late-night infomercial. You can almost hear the small print whispering behind every rhyme.

“Ad Break” is short, loud, and intentionally hollow…
because that’s what ads are.

Hit play. Let the jingle wash over you.
Just try not to buy anything.

Ad Break

“Piggy in the Mirror” is the moment the mask slips.
The bright lights dim, the marketing team goes home, and our pink, smiling mascot is left alone—staring at a reflection that doesn’t quite match the billboards.

This track blends humor with heaviness: a self-aware ballad about seeing the cracks, the compromises, and the hollowness beneath all the hype. It’s part confession, part identity crisis, part late-night conversation with the only person you can’t fool.

In this song, the pig isn’t pitching products or dancing to jingles.
He’s asking real questions:
Who am I when the costume is off?
What’s left when the applause dies?
Was the joke ever really a joke?

“Piggy in the Mirror” is tender, uneasy, and honest in a way the rest of the Oinkment universe tries very hard not to be. It’s the sound of a character waking up from his own commercial.

Press play—this is the reflection no ad campaign can polish.

Piggy In the Mirror

Step right through the pearly ring lights and into the digital afterlife where every scroll feels sacred… at least on the surface. “Influencer Heaven” is a glossy, tongue-in-cheek hymn for the age when validation comes in waves of likes, and sanctification is one good filter away.

This track blends shimmer-pop production with a satirical gospel of curated perfection—sermons in selfies, psalms in reels, and a congregation built from followers who never actually know you. Beneath the polished veneer, though, the song cracks open the quiet ache hiding under all that digital glory: What happens when your worth rests on a Wi-Fi signal? Who’s left applauding when the screen goes dark?

Expect catchy hooks, bright synths, and lyrics that wink at the absurd world of online worship while whispering a sobering truth: heaven isn’t found in pixels, and no algorithm can save your soul.

Perfect for anyone who’s ever chased the glow, doubted the glow, or realized the glow doesn’t love you back.

Come for the shine. Stay for the existential crisis.

Influencer Heaven

Smiling Eyez

🎶 COME CENERE TRA DOSSI E PARADOSSI ESISTENZIALI Collettivo Undersound

🌱 Back to the roots. Collettivo Undersound does not make music to sell, but to channel ✨. Every track is a ritual 🔮, every frequency a neutral vibration 🌌 seeking resonance with the universe.

🎸 We record with home‑made instruments: old guitars from Texas 🤠, banjo 🎵, fiddle 🎻 — objects carrying memory. 🤖 AI is not our creator but our sculptor: it shapes the sound, carves it, makes it unique.

🔥 Reggae hypnotizes us. It is the rhythm that allows us to summon 🪄, to bind spells and feelings 💫, to call the right energy ⚡. The one that vibrates. The one that responds.

📦 This album has been in the drawers for years. Now it is time to open them 🗝️. 🌍 MMF and Mirko speak seven languages 🗣️, and for us it is natural to create in Italian 🇮🇹, Creole 🌴, German 🇩🇪, and English 🇬🇧. Because language is not just speech — it is sound 🎤, form 🌀, vibration 🌊.

💚 Creole fascinates us: that “mumble bumble” accent scattered across the waves 🌊, making everything more real, more profound. It is vital. It is transmission.

🚫 We are not here to sell. 🌌 We are here to channel.

🎶 COME CENERE TRA DOSSI E PARADOSSI ESISTENZIALI Collettivo Undersound

🌱 Ritorno alle radici. Collettivo Undersound non fa musica per vendere, ma per canalizzare ✨. Ogni traccia è un rito 🔮, ogni frequenza una vibrazione neutra 🌌 che cerca risonanza con l’universo.

🎸 Registriamo con strumenti fatti in casa: vecchie chitarre dal Texas 🤠, banjo 🎵, violino 🎻 — oggetti che portano memoria. 🤖 L’AI non è il nostro creatore ma il nostro scultore: modella il suono, lo plasma, lo rende unico.

🔥 Il reggae ci ipnotizza. È il ritmo che ci permette di evocare 🪄, di legare incantesimi e sentimenti 💫, di chiamare l’energia giusta ⚡. Quella che vibra. Quella che risponde.

📦 Questo album è rimasto nei cassetti per anni. Ora è tempo di aprirli 🗝️. 🌍 MMF e Mirko parlano sette lingue 🗣️, e per noi è naturale creare in italiano 🇮🇹, creolo 🌴, tedesco 🇩🇪 e inglese 🇬🇧. Perché il linguaggio non è solo parola — è suono 🎤, forma 🌀, vibrazione 🌊.

💚 Il creolo ci affascina: quel “mumble bumble” sparso sulle onde 🌊, che rende tutto più reale, più profondo. È vitale. È trasmissione.

🚫 Non siamo qui per vendere. 🌌 Siamo qui per canalizzare.


taci se nn ti vuoi contraddire

“Velvet Whisper” is a nocturnal, intimate reflection on the traces someone leaves behind long after they’re gone. The song drifts through dimly lit rooms, slow-burning memories, and the quiet tension between holding on and letting go. With lyrics that paint shadows on a windowsill and echoes of a laugh suspended in the air, it captures the fragile afterglow of a love that feels both present and unreachable.

The imagery unfolds like a late–night film: a lingering promise, a smoldering cigarette, a room that hums with a name no longer spoken. The chorus, centered on the evocative phrase “velvet whisper,” becomes the emotional core — the soft, fading imprint of someone who has slipped into memory too soon.

Musically and lyrically, the track balances melancholy with elegance, creating a mood that is tender, atmospheric, and quietly haunting. It’s a song about absence, resonance, and the delicate threads that remain when everything else has passed.

Here are the lyrics:

[Verse]
There’s a shadow on my windowsill,
A ghost of a promise, lingering still.
Your laugh’s a melody, haunting the air,
It’s here, then gone, like you were never there.

[Prechorus]
The night folds in, soft as a sigh,
I’m caught between hello and goodbye.

[Chorus]
Velvet whisper, it’s all you leave,
A trace of you I can hardly believe.
Velvet whisper, it fades too soon,
A fleeting note beneath the moon.

[Verse 2]
The clock ticks slow, but my heart won’t wait,
Your memory’s dancing, fashionably late.
A cigarette burns where your lips once stayed,
Ashes of moments, quietly betrayed.

[Prechorus]
The room hums low, like it knows your name,
But nothing and no one feels the same.

[Chorus]
Velvet whisper, it’s all you leave,
A trace of you I can hardly believe.
Velvet whisper, it fades too soon,
A fleeting note beneath the moon.




Velvet whisper

Last Night in Wisconsin

When the band first formed in the cellar of McPhilbob’s parents’ home, they had no idea what they were getting themselves into.  They believed that nothing happens by chance and that God had given them a soapbox for a reason to impact the lives of people around the world.  Above all, their ultimate goal was to glorify God in everything that they do.  They believed that they are the greatest band of all time because they represent the greatest of all time, Jesus Christ.

Praise to the Everblessed Trinity

Memom & The Punk Monkeys