This song was composed as an assignment for one of my modules in school to thank the PGAs (Pioneer Generation Ambassadors)
Special thanks to Angel Yap for helping me track the vocals! You can find more of her songs at angelyapmusic on Soundcloud AND YouTube!

Thanks for listening!

Thank You PGAs Ft Angel Yap

A Jazzy Night (ideation)

Composed by Pualina Lim and me
Lyrics and melody by Angel Yap and Alif Danial
Vocals by Alif Danial 
Piano by Pualina Lim 
Drums by Low Jun Yang
Bass by me
Recording and Mixing by me

P.S. All of them are on soundcloud! Do check their stuff out @
Pualina Lim,
angelyapmusic,
Danial Alif, 
JLMusic

P.P.S. I reuploaded because i realised that my vocals was a tad over compressed, which was made even more obvious from soundcloud compression. Had to remix it and post again.

P.P.P.S This track was created for our school's REMT (Recording and Mixing Techniques) Module

Hold On (Reupload)

Did this for a challenge between some friends.

The Last March + The Beginning Of The End

Funking Around

His eyes fluttered open. The afternoon sun hung tauntingly above him, bringing only its light. How many days had it been since the storm? 3? 4? He could no longer recall. The icy wind hissed at him, and he felt his arms twitch into a shiver, his fingers still stubbornly curled around the remnants of his ship. His arm flared, the ache of tense muscles that was already fading back to dull numbness. His legs were two waterlogged weights tied to his torso, alien projections he had long lost the ability to use. So he floated along, his voice too hoarse to protest the wind that had begun to pick up. 

Everyone had always said he took after his father. His father, the best fisherman of his generation, leading the entire village to an era of rich catches, better than any other in all of its recorded memory. He had learnt to swim before he could walk comfortably. Now as he drifted helplessly in the open waters, he let out a small delirious giggle. 

He had never known his mother. She had died during childbirth, or so his father claimed. The village thought differently. There were many stories of how his father had managed to “catch” a sea nymph, rumours whispered about how she returned to the ocean after bearing him a son. How the grave his father dutifully attended was an empty lot. But the truth had died with the old midwife who had delivered him; only hearsay and sailor’s tales remained. The few nuggets he had wrangled about his mother from his stoic father was that she was a beauty like no other, and that he would never love another woman as he did her. 

Still, as the minutes turned into hours, he found himself wondering about her. He was no fool, he knew his chances of survival were slim, but perhaps if she truly was a sea nymph, he would have liked to meet her before he passed. 

The song started then. Blending into the wind, his tired ears barely even noticed. A low hum rose into a higher key, blending and harmonising with a dozen other voices. He knew the tune, it was a lullaby, common in his village for calming infants. He tried to find its source, straining his neck and torso, desperately trying to turn. 

They sat on rocks. Women, hair green like seaweed, eyes that seemed to be orbs of a larger ocean. They sang and beckoned towards him, their song warming him up so he could no longer feel the cold biting at him. He smiled, as his eyes fluttered. His breathing slowed, becoming laborious. 

He heard a splash in the water but he was already nodding off. He’s tired, so very tired. He knows the lullaby is nearing its end, and he feels a pair of arms hold him as the last of his strength gives out. The plank drifts away. He forces his eyes open to see a woman, a beauty like no other, and a kind smile as she nods, as though giving him permission to fall asleep. So he does, in her arms as the nymphs’ song comes to a close


Story written by Benson

The Nereids

Student at Singapore Poly
Pursuing a Diploma in Music and Audio Technology
Is a Band Geek
Is a Weeb
Loves Soundtracks 
Loves Jazz

Aw Ping Hui