I Am The Sky

I Am The Abyss

I Am The Echo

I Am The Veil (I)

Hold the Beat

No One Knew

Echofront is an album that lives in the tension between shadow and radiance, between the ruins of memory and the pulse of the present. The songs unfold as fragments - half-dreamt images of stone, glass, fire, rivers, and neon - stitched into the rhythm of melodic techno. These lyrics trace the outlines of spaces where silence gathers force: cathedrals crumbling under rain, tunnels painted with defiance, rivers carrying ancestral masks, and cities burning into light. Each track is an echo carried forward, a resonance that reveals both fragility and persistence, where every fracture or stain also hints at renewal. The music embraces this ambiguity, weaving deep beats with textures that shimmer, fracture, and reform, as if sound itself were both memory and prophecy.

At the heart of the album is the idea of the echo not as repetition, but as transformation. Echoes blur time, bending it into seams where identity slips, boundaries dissolve, and breath becomes dream. Echofront steps into those seams, letting voices fade and return in altered forms, letting rhythms erode and rebuild, letting light refract into the darkness. The music is neither nostalgic nor utopian, but rather a navigation of thresholds - of endings that carry within them the charge of beginnings, of masks that reveal by concealing, of serpents that coil both danger and desire. In this way, the album moves like a front advancing across shifting terrain: charged with energy, haunted by silence, and always carrying the possibility of becoming something new.

climbing

end becomes dream

shadow stain

neon prophets

You call at dusk, your voice low and worn,
Ask how I been, how the weather’s turned.
We talk of nothing, but it still feels deep,
Like water running where roots don’t sleep.
Your silence rustles through the phone,
And I hear myself in your tone.

We’re from the same bone,
Cut by time, carved by stone.
You speak through quiet, I speak through ache,
Both of us breaking in the love we make.
Yeah, we’re from the same bone.

You’ve been walking that lonesome mile,
Carrying ghosts with a steady style.
You don’t say much, but I understand,
You built your peace with a trembling hand.
The words you hide, I’ve known too well —
That kind of pain don’t need to tell.

We’re from the same bone,
Made of weight and wanting alone.
The world hit hard, but we still stand,
Quiet hearts and weathered hands.
Yeah, we’re from the same bone.

Some nights I see you in my eyes,
Like the echo that memory ties.
Our love ain’t loud, but it’s grown slow,
Like moss on the stone, taking hold below.
And though we fail to find the phrase,
Our silence speaks in tender ways.

We’re from the same bone,
The same ache, the same unknown.
You don’t say love, but I still hear —
The way you stay, the way you’re near.
Yeah, we’re from the same bone.

From the Same Bone (I)

From the Same Bone (II)

She asked me one night in a room half dark,
“How you still kind when the streets get hard?”
I looked at the moon through the screen frame,
and said, “You learn it slow, you learn it through pain.”
The stars didn’t answer, but the wind sure sighed,
like it knew the times I cried.

Kind ain’t easy, no, it ain’t free —
takes a heart that’s been down on its knees.
Comes from knowing what cold feels like,
comes from walking without no light.
Kind ain’t easy, but it’s all I know —
that’s how even the softest seeds grow.

I’ve seen hard men spit and slam the door,
and sweet talk turn to a thunder roar.
But I found peace in a stranger’s eyes,
and I learned that hurt can civilize.
There’s a quiet strength in giving more,
when the life’s too broke to keep score.

Kind ain’t easy, no, it ain’t free —
takes a heart that’s been cracked at the seams.
Comes from loss and comes from rain,
comes from fighting not to be the same.
Kind ain’t easy, but it’s what I choose —
it’s how I make my black to blues.

There’s dirt beneath these clean up hands,
I’ve dug my calm from bitter lands.
You don’t show soft from livin’ gone smooth,
you earn your grace with something to prove.
I don’t thank the ache, but I bless the day,
It taught me how to stay.

Kind ain’t easy, no, it ain’t free —
takes a heart that’s healed from injury.
Comes from silence, comes from scars,
from headin’ home under no stars.
Kind ain’t easy, but I’ll stay true —
’cause the world gets mean, but I’ll shine through.

Kind Ain't Easy

Mama taught me silence before I could cry,
How to keep small when the thunder rolled by.
Her love came heavy, sweet and rough,
And I learned early that enough ain’t enough.
They said a girl should fade like dusk —
Soft on the eyes, quiet with trust.

Yeah, I got the Invisible Girl Blues,
Learned how to vanish just to get through.
Still I rise with the wind’s slow sigh,
Still I breathe, just to stay alive.
Yeah, I got the Invisible Girl Blues.

Dinner plates shining, voices tight,
I learned how to fold myself at night.
Chairs scrape slow, the air don’t move,
The rhythm of shame’s a hardened groove.
And all that weight, it don’t belong —
But I’ve been carrying it too long.

Yeah, I got the Invisible Girl Blues,
Born in the quiet I couldn’t refuse.
Still I rise with the wind’s slow sigh,
Still I breathe beneath the sky.
Yeah, I got the Invisible Girl Blues.

Somewhere between the ribs and spine,
Lives a whisper that won’t align.
A hollow temple, a steady beat,
A ghost that hums beneath the heat.
And I, the echo dressed in skin,
Keep on living where I’ve been.

Yeah, I got the Invisible Girl Blues,
I shine like sorrow in the dew.
Still I rise with the wind’s slow sigh,
Still I breathe, and the world walks by.
Yeah, I got the Invisible Girl Blues.

Invisible Girl Blues

Mama gave too much for one soul to hold,
Poured her heart out warm, and it turned me cold.
Her hands were mercy, her voice was prayer,
But her kind of love left me gasping for air.
She meant it holy, she meant it deep,
But you can drown in the tears she keeps.

I got the War Child Blues, caught between what’s right and what’s true,
Half of me reaching, the other half through.
Every scar’s a map that don’t stay drawn,
Seems my sorrow’s what the world feeds on.
Yeah, I got the War Child Blues.

My old man’s ghost don’t make a sound,
Still, his shadow’s always hanging around.
A chair at the table, an echo in the hall,
He ain’t gone — he just don’t call.
Some roots don’t grow, they twist instead,
And bloom inside your head.

I got the War Child Blues, a war I never chose,
Peace and anger tangled close.
One side wants to lay me down,
The other side keeps holding ground.
Yeah, I got the War Child Blues.

There’s a line that cuts through every name,
Between love and loss, between pride and shame.
Somewhere I’m both storm and field,
Both the wound and what it healed.
And when I sing, I don’t choose a side —
The pain just opens wide.

I got the War Child Blues, walking where no one stays,
Both the reason and the haze.
I carry more than I was made to bear,
And still got love to spare.
Yeah, I got the War Child Blues.

War Child Blues

Men went in dread,
of his hand and lead,
two guns shining,
ears ripped red.

He roamed the hills,
just for thrills,
blood and thunder,
unshaken will.

Smoke curled slow,
hoss stood still,
heart ran dry,
he learned to kill.

High on the cliff,
cool breeze smiled —
broke the faith,
of this devil’s child.

High on the cliff,
cool breeze smiled —
broke the faith,
of this devil’s child.

Steel-eyed men,
posse near,
fifteen marshals
hot with fear.

Powder and dust,
the law rode down,
the iron hands
came from the crown.

Back to the wall,
his shadow tall,
he took his shots
to end it all.

Up on the ridge
the wild wind moaned —
fire found flesh,
and called it home.

Up on the ridge
the wild wind moaned —
fire found flesh,
and called it home.

No one fled,
and redwoods swayed,
the hoss walked quiet
rider slayed.

Desert Rose
was cold as hell —
Silver Jack
an empty shell.

The road was long,
the night distilled,
a rattler’s face,
a sudden chill.

The sky looked on,
the west ranged wide —
and silence fell,
where lawmen died.

Devil's Child

(Oooooh…)
Thin wind, slow rain,
ghosts drift over the stones.
(Oooooh…)

Cold sea hunger,
white bone tide.
Frost and feather,
salt-worn hide.
The green leaf fades,
the petals wane.
The moon forgets,
and names the pain.

(Ahhh…)
Lost beach dreaming,
nothing replies.
Desolate voices,
low and wide.

Only the sea.
Only despair.
The rain wind sings —
and I am there.
(Ooooooh…)
Only the sea.
Only despair.
The rain wind sings —
and I am there.

Grey gull shadow,
thin and high.
The otter gone,
the heron dry.
At the edge,
wet rocks gleam.
A bitter shore,
a broken dream.
(Ooooh yeah…)

Throats whispering,
through the wind.
Weeds like hair,
where stars begin.
Lonely surf,
its crumbling roar.
Time like hunger,
asks once more.

(Oooooh…)
The tide sighs low.
The day grows bare.
The leaf is gone —
and I am there.
(Ahhh…)

Only the Sea

Fields of bones beneath the grain,
Ghosts still work the southern chain.
Smoke from cities, blood in rain,
Dollar signs tattooed with pain.

Bright clean flag waves above the barn,
Dreams embalmed in the graveyard.
Gold runs slick down the preacher’s sleeve,
Truth’s a wound you can’t believe.

American Maggot — chew and grow,
On the body you don’t know.
The light went some wars ago,
But the TV swears it’s a morning show.

American Maggot — hum that hymn,
Of rust and oil and seraphim.
You wear the crown, the rot, the sin,
And call it a resurrection.

Steel and shadow, glass and gun,
Children coughing in the sun.
ICE vans crawl where the workers run,
Freedom limps — the laws undone.

Church bells ring, don’t cure all,
All the empires learn to fall.
Blessed are these blind and numb,
Who burn the Earth for their kingdom come.

American Maggot — creep and feed,
On every broken prayer and creed.
The scar’s the only vote you need,
Waving on as the country bleeds.

Somewhere under Wall Street’s floor,
History whispers, “Never more.”
The gangrene won’t heal, it just keeps score —
While the Maggot eats the core.

American Maggot, Reprise

She came talkin’ honey,
But it stung like bath tub gin.
Said, “You’re the one, baby,”
With a heart that was halfway in.
She smiled like summer,
But the nights stayed cold.
It’s funny how a promise
Can spoil before it’s old.

Don’t you go mistakin’
Salt for sugar, child.
Sweet words taste good
But fade in a little while.
If she wants to love you,
She won’t need no cue.
When a woman means stayin’,
She’ll show it, and prove it to you.

You set the table for two,
But you’re eatin’ alone.
The light’s still flickerin’,
And the wine’s half gone.
You tell yourself stories,
Like the faithful do.
But you know that if she wanted —
She’d already be next to you.

Don’t you go mistakin’
Salt for sugar, child.
Sweet words taste good
But fade in a little while.
If she wants to love you,
She won’t need no cue.
When a woman means stayin’,
She’ll show it, and prove it to you.

You can pray for a message,
Stare stupid at your phone.
But the truth walks quieter
Than the lies you’ve been told.
Love don’t beg for timing,
It don’t hide in disguise.
It’s simple as the sunrise —
It either shows or it dies.

Don’t you go mistakin’
Salt for sugar, child.
Life’s too short
To beg for something mild.
If she wants to love you,
She’ll make it plain to see.
Real love don’t whisper,
It roars like the sea.

Salt for Sugar (Memphis Mix)

The lamp throws gold across the floor,
Your shadow’s halfway out the door.
You say it soft, caress my skin,
But your eyes don’t know the bed they’re in.
Love ain’t the word, it’s the way you cling
Like winter begging back the spring.

Don’t go easy, don’t go kind,
There’s mercy in pretending sometimes.
You ain’t reaching for forever tonight,
Just the warmth that feels right.
It’s the ache that speaks what the heart won’t say.
Stay anyway.

The kettle cools, the walls don’t care,
Two cups of silence, one empty chair.
You trace my sleeve with shaking hands,
But touch can’t build what time can’t span.
Behind your breath truth hesitates
A whisper trembling at the gates.

Don’t go easy, don’t go kind,
There’s mercy in pretending sometimes.
You ain’t reaching for forever tonight,
Just the touch that holds you tight.
It’s the ache that speaks what the heart won’t say.
Stay anyway.

The dawn crawls in through the window frame,
You’re still here, but won’t say my name.
Love’s a word you hide away,
You can’t speak its truth in the light of day.
We lie quiet, half alive, half gone,
Waiting for something that never comes.

Don’t go easy, don’t go kind,
There’s mercy in pretending sometimes.
You ain’t reaching for forever tonight,
Just the tongue behind the bite.
It’s the ache that speaks what the heart won’t say.
Stay anyway.

Stay Anyway (Lush Mix)

Steam curls off the morning cup,
Kitchen clock won’t shut up.
You stare at the chair like an old routine,
The window fogs with what might’ve been.
You don’t reach for the sugar jar
You drink in the quiet, thinking how things are.

It’s a black coffee morning,
Still dealing with the blow.
You nurse that cup like it still holds hope.
It’s not the caffeine that makes your hands shake
Love’s ghost don’t die, it circles the ache.

Her raincoat hangs by the back door,
You sweep the floor ’til your back gets sore.
Neighbors wave like the world’s moved on,
You find yourself still humming her song.
There’s rain on the sill, the floorboards creak,
You stir your thoughts while the kettle leaks.

It’s a black coffee morning,
You sip on sorrow like it’s all you know.
You keep holding what you ought to let go.
It’s not the caffeine that keeps you awake
Love don’t end clean, it just slips away

You pour another, can’t taste the heat,
The bitter burns, tastes like defeat.
The mouth remembers, the heart tries to forget —
Every swallow stirs the old regrets.
She’s gone, but still inside your skin,
Like the dark brew you keep letting in.

It’s a black coffee morning,
And it’s bruising you slow.
You warm your hands on what you ought to let go.
You’d rather drink pain than drink the air —
Cause the empty don’t love you, or answer your prayer.

Black Coffee Morning

You came on smooth, like whiskey slow,
Said all the right things low.
Showed the kind of sweetness
That makes a tooth ache grow
Your touch was fine liquor,
But the aftertaste told the truth —
Some sugar turns bitter
When it no longer soothes.

I may want you, baby,
But that don’t make you mine.
You shine like a promise,
But you sting like moonshine.
Yeah, you’re pretty as trouble,
But my heart’s learned to see —
Between the wanting and the needing,
Only one lets you breathe.

You whispered midnight poetry,
But your words were made of lies.
You had that preacher rhythm,
But no gospel in your eyes.
You moved like thunder rolling,
And I wanted to be rain.
But I won’t sell my peace
To feel that kind of pain.

I may want you, baby,
But that don’t make you mine.
You shine like a promise,
But you sting like salt and lime
Yeah, you sing in the wrong key,
And my heart’s learned to see —
Between the wanting and the needing,
Only one sets you free.

Now the morning’s clear and quiet,
No cologne smell in these sheets.
The air feels clean again,
Like a sinner’s found release.
You were heat and danger,
And I won’t curse your flame —
But I’ve seen how it ends,
And I won’t play that game.

I may want you, baby,
But that don’t make you mine.
You shine like a promise,
But you sting like sea brine.
Yeah, I’ve walked through your fire,
But I still believe —
Between the wanting and the needing,
I found what’s left of me.

Between the Wanting and the Needing

We been fighting ‘bout nothing, baby,
And that ain’t nothing new.
Arguin’ through the night ’til the morning light,
Thunder lookin’ for a storm to roll through.
There’s dinner in the oven, lights still on,
And silence thick as glue.
You say you’re beat, but I see that spark —
I know what you wanna do.

Baby, take your time with me,
Ride me slow and sweet.
Let’s talk in tongues ’til the neighbors wake,
And the angels lose their sleep.
This ain’t forgiveness, baby,
This is fire and blues and truth.
You read my skin like scripture
And I still sing for you.

You came home late from somewhere,
Your alibi half-spun.
Said the city kept you longer,
But that story came undone.
I ain’t mad, I’m just tired of ghosts
And the way your eyes still roam.
But when your hands start reaching, baby,
Any doubt I had condones.

Baby, take your time with me,
Ride me slow and sweet.
Let’s talk in tongues ’til the neighbors wake,
And the angels lose their sleep.
This ain’t forgiveness, baby,
This is fire and blues and truth.
You read my skin like scripture
And I still sing for you.

We got sirens out our windows,
And smoke in every word.
Our bodies crack, old vinyl records —
Scratched but still can be heard.
The streetlights lean in listening,
To hear how bruised hearts mend.
We trade our hurt for rhythm,
While you take my breath again.

So lay me down, don’t speak a thing,
Let rhythm have its say.
We’ll make our peace with sweat and sound,
And find our prayer that way.
This ain’t redemption, honey,
It’s a promise tried and true.
You read my skin like scripture
And I still sing for you.

I Still Sing for You

Salt for Sugar (Kansas City Mix)

You said love was a light that don’t go out,
But I lived too long in the shadow of doubt.
I tried to fix what was breaking in me slow,
But some things die in the seeds they sow.
Your arms were warm, your words were kind —
But I lost my shape trying to match what you defined.

Don’t say I stopped loving you,
That ain’t always what walking away means to do.
I just learned the truth I couldn’t betray —
The longer I stayed, the darker my days
Love ain’t always the place you rest,
Sometimes leaving’s how you love yourself best.

Your coffee cup still on the sill,
Steam long gone, but the ache sits still.
I scrubbed your name off every wall,
But the silence kept whispering through it all.
I packed my bags quiet, like a prayer unsaid,
A goodbye that hurt more than what you said.

Don’t say I stopped loving you,
That ain’t always what walking away means to do.
I just learned the truth I couldn’t betray —
The longer I stayed, the darker my days
Love ain’t always the place you rest,
Sometimes leaving’s how you love yourself best.

You’re a ghost that time won’t chase,
Still lingers soft in every empty space.
But peace don’t grow where pain still feeds,
And hearts need more than a love that bleeds.
I ain’t bitter about you, just tryin’ to be free
And find the woman you couldn’t see.

Don’t say I stopped loving you,
That ain’t always what walking away means to do.
I just learned the truth I couldn’t betray —
The longer I stayed, the darker my days
Love ain’t always the place you rest,
Sometimes leaving’s how you love yourself best.

The Longer I Stayed (Reprise)

Between the Wanting and the Needing (Lush Mix)

Elemental Vol. 1 moves through earth, air, fire, and water not as metaphors but as emotional states. The songs drift like weather systems, mixing tenderness with atmosphere - acoustic guitars and field-warm vocals meeting the pulse of understated techno rhythms. The production is deliberately porous: wood and wire breathing alongside soft synths and spectral drum-machine traces. It's an "acoustic techno" album in the sense that rhythm and resonance share the same dirt. The songs carry the physical textures of wind in rafters, gravel underfoot, or rain on a roof, yet they shimmer with digital light. This meeting of folk intimacy and electronic timbres gives the album its peculiar gravity - part back-porch confession, part after-hours heartbeat.

Lyrically, Elemental Vol. 1 abandons conventional pop architecture. Instead of verse–chorus–bridge repetition, each piece unfolds as a field poem - free-form, continuous, and responsive to its own inner weather. The writing treats structure as tide rather than grid: refrains return when they need to, not when they're told to. This openness lets the language breathe in sync with the natural imagery that drives it - storms, light, stone, silence - and invites listeners to inhabit the songs as evolving spaces rather than predictable forms. Across the various mixes of its six song poems - We Learn the Sky, Don't Sightsee This Heart, Be a Storm in Me, Til the Heat Is Gone, You Happen Like Weather, and Wild Gifts - the album traces the cycles of intimacy and impermanence, finding in their motion the same quiet power that turns seasons, wheels, and hearts.

Don't Sightsee This Heart (I)

You Happen Like Weather (I)

Be a Storm in Me (IV)

Check out the music video!
Lyrics:

Pavement shine slick from last night’s rain
City lamp sway like it lost its brain
Mob move quiet, eyes cut through
News on the wall talk lies they knew (yeah)

Kids draw lines in the dust and fade
Old heads gaze, see how it’s played
Smoke from the sewer twist like a vine
Whole block watch, but they all act blind

Lights don’t sleep, they just stare back (oooo)
Corners hold ghosts you can’t unpack
One wrong look, you lose your lane
Street don’t care, it don’t know your face

Cold step, can’t slow, no peace
Each turn hold chains, no keys (yeah)
Play your role till the floor give way
The cracks spill truth when the mask decays (ahhh)

Dice hit curb, nobody say a word
Paper change hands, deals overheard (uhh)
Cops lean still, no blink, no sound
A laugh too loud spin the whole crowd round

A girl drop a coin, the tin can ring
A boy chew metal, don’t feel a thing
Neon flicks and the faces split (ahhh)
Day turn night like it’s counterfeit

Glow don’t fade, it just stares back
Alleys hide ghosts you can’t unpack
One wrong step, you’re out the frame (yeah)
Trap don’t care, won’t call your name

Cold step, can’t slow, no peace (ahhh)
Each turn hold chains, no keys
Play your role till the floor give way (uhh)
The cracks spill truth when the mask decays

Middle of the strip, the noise drop dead (yeah)
Crew stand froze like they dropped the thread
My own face float on a screen outside
Smile look real but it ain’t inside (ahhh)

I laugh one time, whole scene goes still
Bright signs lose color, now dim and chill
No one moves, just watch in the glare (oooo)
Zone unchanged, but it ain’t all there

Yeah, yeah, cold step, keep pace
The scheme don’t stop, it just change its face (uhh)
Yeah, yeah, cold step, keep pace
No end here, just another space

Same Side. Same eyes. (ahhh)
But no one left inside.

Cold Step

Check out the music video!
Lyrics:

I feel the current under my skin
A quiet river, it pulls me in
Your eyes are oceans, wide and clear
They hold the truth we’re meant to hear

No noise, just the sound of our hearts aligned
A fragile thread in the hands of time
We’re more than flesh, we’re light in disguise
Hold this moment, don’t let it pass by

Breathe with me…
Like the earth beneath our feet
Like the moon that moves the sea
Breathe with me…
In the silence, find release
In your touch, I’m finally free

I taste the sunlight, soft on your lips
A sacred whisper the cosmos gifts
We are the echoes of every soul
Together fractured, together whole

No rush, let the stillness unfold our name
The world dissolves, and it feels the same
We’re more than shadows of what we’ve been
This is where the healing begins

Breathe with me…
Like the earth beneath our feet
Like the moon that moves the sea
Breathe with me…
In the silence, find release
In your touch, I’m finally free

All the cities, all the skies
Every stranger holds the light
All the faces, all the pain
Love connects us just the same

Breathe with me…
Through the dark and endlessly
Through the world’s complexity
Breathe with me…
Every soul a symphony
Every breath infinity

Breathe With Me

Storefront mannequins blink, swear they’re breathing,
Headlines flake in the window like spores.
My shadow walks twelve steps behind me,
Looking for a reason to lock the door.
A jukebox coughs in a padlocked café,
Glow, beat, hiss, the vinyl’s worn thin.
Weeds and stubs in the sidewalk cracks
Some ask for a smile—I  forgot how to grin.

Mirror Mile — where the names don’t stick,
Faces melt clean if you stare too quick.
Needles in the gutter, blood in the grime,
Clock lost its hands, still holding time.
Mirror Mile — where the soul rewinds,
Truth stings sharp from the power lines.
Sling too long and the lights turn strange,
Nothing here moves — except the change.

A man feeds sparks to a shopping cart altar,
Talking to God in a coat made of sleep.
A woman buys meals with bottle-cap wages,
Sells them back by the hour — the light runs cheap.
A preacher crowns rats with a cardboard halo,
Says even vermin deserve a throne.
I watch him stack blankets and bags in a nest,
Crawl inside the stink, calling it home.

Mirror Mile — where the streets don’t choose
If we’re veins in the dark or rigged to lose
Every coin’s a prayer with a hole in the head,
Every promise a brick in the wall of the dead.
Mirror Mile — where the doors don’t care,
Let you in on a dare, then vanish in air.
Smoke does tricks just to keep you wild —
Oh, tell me who’s real on the Mirror Mile.

I saw the crowd freeze by a dying marquee,
Reflections danced in the fractured glass.
I tried to talk, but the mirror cut in —
Said, “You’re the ghost they never cast.”
Moon tossed a curtain of rust over me,
Water tower sank in a tide of ash.
Street didn’t whisper — just sighed and grinned,
Filed down its teeth and waited to laugh.

Mirror Mile — take what you need,
Lost what you love, repeat till you bleed.
One wrong night and the joke’s on you,
Punchline lands  hard when you’re the new taboo
Mirror Mile — no debt, no trust,
Only the things you leave in the dust.
One last song that don’t hear the sound,
Fade like chalk till you’re part of the ground.

Mirror Mile

Dark Cabaret, Vol. 1 is a séance for machines, bodies, and ghosts that never stopped performing. It lives somewhere between the gutter and the stage — a fever-dream city where the bars hum in trip-hop time, the circuses burn, and the jukebox keeps spinning cracked vinyl long after last call.

Each track is a small theatre of survival. The rhythm crawls slow and narcotic; beats pulse like faulty neon; melodies sway with the weariness of dancers who’ve outlived the applause. The stories move through smoke and rain — bartenders pouring fire instead of faith, wire-walkers hanging whole crowds on a thread, street preachers soldering sermons out of broken circuits, lovers reading the scars on each other’s skin like sheet music.

The sound is cabaret after the collapse: trip-hop basslines and downtempo electronica draped in dust-bowl brass, cracked-piano chords, and whispered confessions. It borrows from vaudeville, gospel, and film noir but speaks in the language of feedback, reverb, and rust. Every groove is haunted by the same tension — between flesh and circuitry, performance and decay, faith and fatigue.

These songs inhabit the ruins of spectacle. They ask what remains when glamour corrodes and holiness shorts out — when all that’s left is the pulse, the hiss, the breath between verses. Dark Cabaret, Vol. 1 is that breath made audible: an after-hours communion for the wired, the weary, and the beautifully broken.

Girl on the Wire (C-Side)

Heat welds gum to the sidewalk, lipstick smeared on chrome,
Marquee grins like bad teeth, silk legs on loan,
He sleeps in his car with a guitar and a rearview shrine,
Maps folded on dead ends and a tape deck coughing time.
Streetlight flickers like breath in a drowning lung,
Agent on the corner saying, Kid, you’re too young.
But the mirror shows every unpaid mile,
And the lines all rehearsed like a man on trial.

Headshots pinned like bugs under glass,
Smiles stapled to a future already past.

Welcome to Palm Row, where your name stains tar,
Gold melted down, pawned for a shot of fame.
Each star chaser, another canceled show
Knees split open in the promise glow —
Palm Row.

Cheap motel halo buzzing red and blue,
Perfume masking sweat and last night’s cue.
She paints her mouth like a wound on fire,
Says Hollywood don’t love, it just hires.
Sirens glow on streets slicked hard with sin,
Couple in the diner trading dimes for skin.
Burnt script ash on cracked tile floors,
Smoke slipping out through the back door.

Billboards mock like a final blow,
Looking down on the broken dreams below.

Welcome to Palm Row, where the night chews shine,
Silver screen lies on dotted lines.
Every heartbeat a debt you owe,
And the rent comes due down Palm Row.

Welcome to Palm Row, where angels learn to rust,
Sequins in the gutter, diamonds in dust.
You chase the light till your ribs go cold,
Left out of breath on Palm Row.


Myk Eff Records

Pinned to spotlight

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