Residuals

Danny Phantom

THREAT LEVEL ORANGE

have you heard the news? (demo version)

Pocket Full of Stardust

Dipshit Donnie and His Idiot Army

The Echo Chamber is a haunting mirror held to the modern soul. The Echo Chamber drifts through neon reflections and digital rain, where every silence becomes another voice bouncing back in the dark. Built on deep 808 heartbeats and shimmering synth pulses, it feels both intimate and infinite. It is a slow head-nod in the quiet between chaos.

The vocals float like confession and memory intertwined. Smooth, emotive, and raw, surrounded by ghostly harmonies that rise like smoke. Each chorus feels like a dream collapsing into itself, every echo a thought you tried to forget.

This isn’t just a song. It’s a moment suspended somewhere between truth and denial, connection and collapse, the noise outside and the storm within.

Mood: late-night introspection • cinematic soul • digital melancholy

For fans of: The Weeknd, Frank Ocean, James Blake, SZA

“Now the sirens are a whisper, turning down my own driveway…
And I’m standing in the echo chamber I built yesterday.”

#TheEchoChamber #RNB #Pop #CinematicSoul #MoodyVibes #DigitalDreams

The Echo Chamber

Unmarked Vans

A quiet refuge in the late-night hours. SirenCode’s new Trap-Soul / Lo-Fi track, "Letters from the Library" (from the Echo Spirit album), is a whispered defense of intellectual freedom. Perfect for Study Sessions, Chill Vibes, Rainy Day Tunes, and Deep Reflection.
Tell us: What does the phrase "Don't Black Out The Margins Of Me" mean to you in the comments?
The Story Behind the Track
Letters from the Library is set in the quiet hours of the stacks, blending warm Rhodes chords and the sound of pages turning with a deep, modern Trap-Soul 808 pulse and vinyl crackle.

This track is an intimate response to the unprecedented rise in book bans, which recently surged to thousands of instances across the country. The song is for those fighting to ensure that all voices—especially those representing the lived experiences of marginalized communities—are preserved and read. We believe the freedom to read is fundamental to exercising our democratic rights, and that every person deserves to see themselves reflected in the pages of a book.

Lyrics

Intro
All these titles pulled… we write them back.”

Verse 1
Quiet hours in the stacks, rain on panes outside the glass,
Dust and lamp‑light on our backs, spines of friends we can’t unmask.
Someone took the stories down, inked our authors out of town,
But we fold our names between the sheets, every whisper makes a sound.

Pre‑Chorus 1
They call it safe to leave them blank, they strike the lines that made us see,
But we are paragraphs in waiting, breathing soft in memory.

Chorus
Don’t black out the margins of me,
I’m more than the words you refuse to read.
Letters from the library,
We’re hidden in covers and scribbled on sleeves.
Don’t black out the margins of me.

Verse 2
Six thousand stories stripped away, twenty‑three states turned backs and keys,
Shelves gone bare across the map, empty spaces where we breathe.
We pass our notes in banned editions, slip our vows beneath the crease,
Write to kids we’ll never meet, “Here’s a truth they can’t delete.”

Pre‑Chorus 2
They said the silence keeps us pure; they locked the stacks with iron glee,
But empty shelves don’t make us safer, they just sharpen memory.

Chorus
Don’t black out the margins of me,
I’m more than the pages you claim to keep.
Letters from the library,
We’re tucked in the footnotes and humming beneath.
Don’t black out the margins of me.

Bridge
Candlelight and phone‑screen glow, we trace each line we used to know,
Hear our elders in the margins, feel their cadence in our bones.
We send a letter to the future, stamped in ink they tried to blot,
“Hold the light when they cut power, memorize what they forgot.”
Our voices rise like choir pads, turning silence into song,
We promise to keep reading, keep the neon burning on.

Final Chorus / Outro
Don’t black out the margins of me, (call)
We’ll write in the margins till we’re free (response).
Letters from the library,
Our names are the spines they’ll never see.
Don’t black out the margins of me…

Technical Metadata
• Artist: SirenCode
• Album: Echo Spirit
• Tempo: 90 BPM
• Key: D Minor

Sound Palette: Warm Rhodes Chords, Trap-Soul Drums, Deep 808 Bass, Choir Pads, Authentic Vinyl Noise.

Connect with SirenCode: @SirenCode

Letters From the Library

A midnight ER run where minutes matter. “Stabilize me—let me breathe.”
Alt-R&B / trap-soul at 104 BPM with deep 808s, tight kick, and a three-note glass-synth motif. Baritone verses move to a lifted falsetto hook; tom swells and subtle monitor beeps heighten the stakes. It’s urgent and humane: paperwork piles up, but pulse takes priority. Built for headphones and night drives—clean low-end, wide vocal stacks, and a final chorus that lands like a vow.

Credits: Written/Produced by SirenCode
Vocals: Rowan March
Mix/Master: SirenCode.

RIYL: The Weeknd, Frank Ocean, James Blake, BANKS.

If this hits you, repost and add it to your late-night and alt-R&B playlists.

Stabilize Me

“Bars full; signal gone.”
A late-night dispatch about speech throttled and truth finding other routes. Side-chained pads, deep 808s, and a glass-glass synth motif drive baritone confessions into a lifted falsetto hook. Think bus-stop rain, glitching signage, and a message carried hand-to-hand when the feed won’t. Built for headphones and night drives, this blends alt-R&B mood with dark-pop polish and a chantable A/B chorus (no copy-paste loops).

Credits: Written & produced by SirenCode & Rowan March
Vocals by: Rowan March
Mix/Master: SirenCode

RIYL: The Weeknd, Frank Ocean, James Blake, BANKS.

If this hits you, repost and add to your late-night playlists.

Signal Lost

SirenCode: We Interrupt This Comfort Zone.
https://ffm.bio/sirencode

Hello, and thank you for tuning into the frequency your algorithm suggested you ignore.

SirenCode is the sound of the emergency broadcast system interrupting your 40-hour work week and reminding you what happens when everyone decides to be polite. We specialize in the things your dinner table won't discuss and the fine art of confusing corporate sponsors.

Our music and art are socially charged, politically inconvenient, and 100% committed to telling the truth with the approximate volume of a dumpster falling down the stairs.

Mission Statement: Making noise so loud that the status quo has to change its name to an unpronounceable symbol.

Disclaimer: May cause existential dread, critical thought, and a sudden urge to unsubscribe from the official narrative. We are not responsible for any heated family arguments prompted by listening to our tracks.

Follow the signal. The code is not optional.