Cognitive Dissonance tells the story of a world and a mind, slowly losing its rhythm, then fighting to remember it. It begins in the glow of human connection and ends on the quiet edge of awakening. Across seven tracks, the album navigates themes of memory, division, politics, digital decay, protest, grief, and ultimately, reflection, tracing the emotional collapse of modern society and the fragile hope that still beats underneath.

The first half feels like nostalgia dissolving. Back When Corners Had Names recalls the days when people knew their neighbours; Paper Fences shows how fear and prejudice built invisible walls; Ballots & Billboards exposes how politics turned into theatre; and Scroll Wars drops the listener into the endless noise of the internet age, where identity and truth are traded for dopamine hits.

From there, the tone shifts. Pavement Lines drags the story back to the streets, to real people rediscovering purpose through protest and presence. Quiet Sirens slows the pulse, showing the emotional aftermath, a late-night hymn for those who keep going even when they’re exhausted. The final track, The Edge We’re On (to come), will complete the arc: standing on the brink of collapse, choosing unity, courage, and human warmth over fear.

Together, these songs form a social and spiritual timeline, a map of the modern psyche caught between screens and streets, apathy and action, silence and sound. Cognitive Dissonance isn’t just a critique; it’s a mirror. It reminds us that beneath the chaos, every person still has a rhythm worth returning to, the heartbeat of truth, love, and living presence in an overstimulated world.

Cognitive Dissonance

Track 1 – Back When Corners Had Names 

This opening track sets the emotional tone for Cognitive Dissonance. It’s the memory before the madness, a love letter to community, to the rhythm of real connection before screens replaced faces. Over a bright two-step garage groove, the rappers recall when you could read a neighbourhood by sound: basslines from hatchbacks, kids calling across estates, laughter echoing between tower blocks. The verses move like memories on rewind, nostalgic but alive, not sentimental.

The ad-libs and crowd chants make it feel communal, like a freestyle circle outside the youth club, everybody joining in, no hierarchy, no filters. It’s a world of handshakes, park lights, and cheap trainers that still meant status, where music stitched people together across lines that later turned into divides.

As the beat fades, the message lands quietly: those corners never really vanished; they’re waiting to be named again, by anyone willing to step back into real time, off the scroll, and back into the rhythm of being human.

Back When Corners Had Names

Paper Fences zooms in from the nostalgic glow of Track 1 to the quiet frictions that separate people today, skin, postcode, accent, class. The lyrics walk through corner-shops and council blocks where small acts of prejudice become invisible walls. Yet every bar insists on rhythm as resistance: the dance floor becomes neutral ground where divisions melt.

The two-step beat shuffles between tension and release, mirroring life in the estates, tight spaces, quick moves, heavy hearts. Ad-libs echo like chants at a protest turned block party, reminding listeners that unity doesn’t need permission. By the end, those “paper fences” crumble into ash, replaced by the shared pulse of bass, breath, and belonging.

Paper Fences

Ballots & Billboards flips the protest into nightlife. The vocals are like a truth-dealer, exposing photo-op politics and broadcast manipulation over a dark, rolling garage groove. Every bar punches against the glossy illusion of democracy-as-marketing. The shuffling rhythm keeps it danceable, but the message cuts deep: behind every billboard is a landlord, behind every ballot a buyer.

The hook feels like a crowd chant from a warehouse packed with sceptics, hands up not in worship, but in warning. By the end, the music and message merge: real power isn’t in the posters; it’s in people stepping off the pavement and back into each other’s lives.

Ballots & Billboards

Scroll Wars captures the descent into the digital fog, the point in the story where humanity stops talking and starts reacting. It’s the middle of the album’s fall: the warmth of real connection from Back When Corners Had Names has been replaced by scrolling thumbs, empty comment threads, and curated rage. The lyrics play out like a psychological battleground, where attention has become the new currency and truth the casualty.

The world here doesn’t collapse with bombs or riots, it collapses through apathy, addiction, and noise. Every swipe feels like a punch, every like a small sedative. The “wars” aren’t fought for land or belief anymore but for validation, the illusion of being seen. People mistake motion for meaning, mistaking connection for control.

By the end, the voice of the track realises what’s been lost: we traded real presence for endless feeds. Yet buried under the loops and repetition is a spark of hope, the moment someone finally looks up from their screen and remembers the rhythm of their own heartbeat. That’s the quiet rebellion the album begins to move toward next.

Scroll Wars

Pavement Lines is the moment in Cognitive Dissonance where resistance turns into unity. After the chaos of Scroll Wars, this track steps back into the physical world, the streets, the cold air, the sound of real feet moving together. It’s not about rebellion for spectacle; it’s about reclaiming presence, purpose, and community in a world that’s been trained to look down instead of around.

The lyrics walk through a protest scene but focus on the humanity behind it: the tired hands holding banners, the strangers sharing warmth, the ordinary people becoming extraordinary just by showing up. The pavement itself becomes sacred ground, a record of every person who refused to stay silent.

In the story’s arc, this track represents awakening through empathy. The crowd’s march isn’t just political; it’s spiritual, a pulse returning to the city’s veins. By the end, the message is simple and grounded: real change doesn’t come from systems or slogans, it comes from people walking side by side, step by step, until the cracks in the world start to heal.

Pavement Lines

Quiet Sirens is the breath after the march, the stillness that follows movement. It’s the sound of exhaustion settling into reflection, the first time in the story where the noise drops low enough for truth to whisper back. After the unity and defiance of Pavement Lines, this track turns inward, tracing the quiet ache that follows every struggle for change.

Here, the city itself becomes a living being, tired, drenched, but still pulsing with life. The sirens aren’t symbols of danger anymore; they’re lullabies for the sleepless, songs for those carrying invisible battles. The character walks through rain-slick streets, replaying memories and losses, questioning whether the world can ever heal, but beneath the melancholy, there’s endurance.

This moment in Cognitive Dissonance shows that survival isn’t always loud or triumphant. Sometimes, it’s just breathing through the silence and finding rhythm in the heartbeat of the night. It’s about the quiet strength that remains when hope feels too heavy to shout, yet refuses to fade.

Quiet Sirens

The Edge We’re On is the sunrise of Cognitive Dissonance. After six tracks of conflict, division and soul-searching, this final chapter arrives like a collective exhale. It’s the moment humanity decides to stand together instead of scroll apart. The lyrics speak of rebuilding without leaders, ordinary people rediscovering power through presence.

In the album’s story, it’s the bridge between the old world and whatever comes next. The edge isn’t doom; it’s potential, a line drawn between fear and faith, and the choice to step forward. By closing with light instead of anger, Cognitive Dissonance ends not as a warning but as a renewal: proof that even when the world is fractured, the beat goes on because people do.

The Edge We’re On

Welcome to G-01 Productions — where rhythm meets reflection and lyrics carry light.

I create original songs and rap poetry about real life, spiritual truth, inner battles, and the divine spark we all carry. My beats are made using AI-generated production, which saves money and lets me create at a much faster pace — no waiting on a producer, just pure, raw expression.

This channel is about more than music — it’s a journey. A way to turn pain into poetry, wisdom into wordplay, and chaos into clarity. From UK drill to soulful R&B, I use sound to tell stories that wake the soul, call out the system, and celebrate the unseen.

🎤 Genres: Hip-Hop, Drill, R&B, Soul, Spoken Word
🎶 All lyrics written by me | All beats created with AI
🧠 Themes: Awakening, Zion, Elohim, Truth vs. Illusion
📍 Global sound – From Birmingham to Lagos to New York

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Truth is rising… and this is the sound of its return.
— G-01

Cognitive Dissonance

G-01 AI productions, AI Singers and Beats