Before It's Time

Smokey Mountain

I hide
From your words like knives
Scorpion sting in your eyes
I’m always watching you leave
When I need you
My love
Everything’s never enough
I keep your amused with my sadness
Pretending to hurt when I caught you in a lie

I won’t cry out loud
Standing alone in the mess that you left me with
I feel your gravity
Pulling me down again
Pulling me
Into your arms

Free
Free as a bird in a storm
If I ever find my way home
I don’t believe you will leave the light on
My love
I pay in pain for my sins
The devil in you always wins
You lose my love like a chain to bind me with

I won’t cry out loud
Standing alone in the mess that you left me with
I feel your gravity
Pulling me down again
Pulling me
Into your arms

Gravity
Pulls me closer
Gravity
Pulls me closer
Every time
I suddenly realize
All the love and hate
Feel the same inside
Our darkest stars collide

I won’t cry out loud
Standing alone in the mess that you left me with
I feel your gravity
Pulling me down again
Pulling me
Into your arms
Into your arms
Into your arms

Gravity

So many roads to follow 
So many rivers to seek 
So many mountains and bays
All them stars on display 
Won’t you come run away with me 

So many trails to step upon 
So many peaks to reach 
So many colours and coves 
Tiny islands to roam 
Wont you come run away with me 

Cause I, I’ve been thinking 
This town ain’t what it used to be 
And I, I’ve been dreaming 
Of campfires under alpine trees 
And sunsets over lake Louise 
Wont you come run away with me   

To much time stuck in the city
To many days lost to a screen 
Subways and trains
tall buildings and cranes 
Its, gonna drive a man insane 

Well I need a week out in the woodland 
With a lantern and kerosene 
Pine cones and sparks 
September dark 
Wont you come run away with me 

Cause I, I’ve been thinking 
This town ain’t what it used to be 
And I, I’ve been dreaming 
Of campfires under alpine trees 
And sunsets over lake Louise   

Cause I, I’ve been thinking 
This town ain’t where we both should be 
And I, I’ve been wandering 
If you’ll wander round this world with me 

Cause I, I’ve been thinking 
This town ain’t what it used to be 
And I, I’ve been dreaming 
Of campfires under alpine trees 
And sunsets over lake Louise 
Of you wandering this world with me

More music HERE 🔔

Abel Hawnt, Luke Beling - Lake Louise

Alright, so this album, Silent Roads, is one of those deeply haunting, intimate collections that takes you right into the heart of lost love and longing. Imagine an album that feels like wandering down empty roads at night, where every song is like a memory coming back to life, even though it’s painful. The songs all have this soft, slow, acoustic feel, with instruments like piano, violin, and especially the guitar, which just aches with every note. It’s like the guitar itself is grieving, you know?

Each track really explores the weight of what’s left behind after a relationship falls apart—not just the sadness, but the regret, the unanswered questions, and that bittersweet “what if” that never goes away. The lyrics are so raw and direct, they kind of hit you with all the things we usually try to bury or avoid. Some tracks are about missed moments and things unsaid, while others are more about finally letting go, even though you’re not ready.

It’s all told from this really vulnerable perspective, with baritone vocals that feel weary and deeply reflective, like he’s just sitting there, talking to himself or maybe to her ghost. There are songs that mention memories of shared laughter, promises that couldn’t last. It’s incredibly poetic but painfully relatable, especially if you’ve ever gone through a breakup that left you with a sense of unfinished business.

I’d say Silent Roads is less about moving on and more about understanding that some love stays with you, no matter how far you go. It’s one of those albums where you don’t just listen; you feel it. Perfect for late nights when you just want to be alone with your thoughts.

only if you stayed

meka, the musical project of Melissa Lingo, blends introspective indie folk with intricate fingerpicking influenced by Nick Drake and Vashti Bunyan. A self-taught multi-instrumentalist, meka explores themes of grief, hope, and nature. Raised in a mountain town dedicated to astronomy, her music reflects a fascination with the cosmos and ecology, shaped by travel and solitude. Her songs turn life’s pain into ethereal beauty, like candlelight in dark corners.

Listen:
https://idol-io.ffm.to/temperance

Connect with meka https://www.instagram.com/singingblackhole/

meka - Temperance

The Night We Met

HOPE - mit Polaride - Wohnzimmeraufnahme

Reflection of sins

Behind Appearance

Written and produced by © Don Minolta // Minolta Records
Artist: Dylan Stiggler

Another day
and I’ll be fine
I’ll be leaving this behind
I can only stop and talk
For a moment

Remember when
We moved in
And we’d say
hey over the fence
And we would
take the time
To talk about
The song birds

Mister Sampson over there
How’s your garden?
How’s your hands?
How’s Betty Anne?
Man, old man
It’s good to know you

We load the car 
In the garage
The room I used
To play guitar
Where we washed
Our dirty clothes
Was now as quiet
As a roach

We raise the door 
It slides along
The idle motor
Hums a song
As we reverse 
Into the world
It fades to nothing

Mister Sampson over there
How’s your garden?
How’s your hands?
How’s Betty Anne?
Man, old man
It’s good to know you

Mister Sampson you take care
As we drive by
But he’s not there
The road is old
the pavement’s cold
The panes are busted

Mister Sampson

I work with machines the way some people work with memory—shaping what’s already there, not to control it, but to understand it. The tools I use are made of code, but the intent behind them is completely human.

R.U.D.Y. began as a fictional band. A name I could hide behind. But over time, that fiction became the most honest expression I had. It stopped being a mask and started becoming a mirror—a place to reflect the moments we don’t have words for, the spaces between emotions that feel too raw or too distant to name.

I call what I do synthwrighting. Not because it sounds futuristic, but because it feels accurate. I don’t write songs—I uncover them. I collaborate with algorithms the way a sculptor chips away at stone. Sometimes the machine surprises me. Sometimes it just listens. But what emerges is always shaped by instinct, memory, and feeling.

These songs aren’t performances. They’re echoes. Sonic fragments of questions I don’t always know how to ask. I’m not here to offer answers or compete with noise—I’m here to slow things down enough that something deeper can be heard.

R.U.D.Y. is not a band. It’s not even really a name. It’s a signal. A reminder. Something you’re meant to feel before you understand.

And if you’re still listening, that means you're not done yet.