“If I Go First” is a raw and vulnerable track that dives headfirst into the quiet terror of mortality, love, and abandonment. Set against haunting melodies and explosive crescendos, the song captures the unspoken fear of leaving — or being left behind — too soon. It’s a desperate promise wrapped in post-hardcore grit: if I go first, don’t forget me… and if you go, please take my memory with you. With soaring vocals and gut-punch lyrics, this track is both a eulogy and a love letter for the ones we might not get to say goodbye to.

If I go first

“Mindfield” is an explosive, unfiltered dive into the battlefield of mental illness — where every thought is a trigger and survival is a daily decision. With haunting atmospherics, glitchy textures, and a chorus that detonates like a buried trauma finally surfacing, this track turns inner turmoil into a war cry.

It’s not just about struggling — it’s about still standing. The lyrics trace the unrelenting noise of anxiety, depression, dissociation, and shame, all while carving space for resilience. This is the sound of someone who’s been to hell and mapped it.

Unapologetically dark, brutally honest, and emotionally cinematic, Mindfield is for anyone who’s ever felt like their mind turned against them — and fought like hell anyway.

Mindfield

This is the warning shot. “FAFO” is a ruthless, no-bluff anthem built from blood, trauma, and absolute loyalty. Every line is a promise, every scream a contract signed in scars. It’s about the cost of keeping your word—especially to yourself—and the rage that comes when people mistake your silence for weakness. Born from pain, fueled by principle, and delivered with teeth bared. You want to test it?
Fuck Around. Find Out.

“FAFO” (Fuck around, find out)

This one’s not about healing—it’s about hiding. “Stitches Don’t Hold” is the sound of someone who tried to keep it all together with silence, with smiles, with anything but truth. It’s slow bleed honesty for every time you told yourself it didn’t hurt anymore—but it did. This song cracks beneath the pressure, unraveling in real time. Some wounds don’t close. Some stitches never hold.

Stitches don’t hold

There’s a cost to loyalty—and this song is the detonation. “Loyal Like a Landmine” is for the ones who stayed too long, gave too much, and got used for it. It’s the anthem of someone who doesn’t quit—until you cross the line. Then it’s already too late. Built on trust, broken by betrayal, and buried with no warning. I don’t bark. I don’t bluff. I just blow.

Loyal like a landmine

You see strength. I see survival. “Concrete Halo” is about being praised for making it through what should’ve killed you—and resenting every second of it. They call you a hero, but they didn’t feel the fire. They love the version of you that lived, not the parts that died along the way. This isn’t holiness. It’s hell dressed up to look like grace. The halo’s cracked—and it’s heavy as concrete.

Concrete halo

This is discipline weaponized. “I Mean What I Say” is a declaration from someone who doesn’t make threats—they make promises. It’s about loyalty so intense it becomes dangerous, even to yourself. You said it, so you do it—no matter how much it hurts. And when they think you’re bluffing, they learn the hard way you never were. No fake threats. No empty talk. Just follow-through with bite.

I mean what I say

This one doesn’t come with a warning—it is the warning. “Teeth First” is pure instinct, pure grit, and pure consequences. It’s about what happens when survival turns you into something dangerous. No more begging. No more mercy. If you test it, you get the bite before the bark. Loyalty with fangs. Love with claws. You stepped wrong—and now you’re bleeding. I told you how I fight. You just didn’t believe me.

Teeth first

Half machine, all fury. “Blood in the Circuitry” is what happens when you try to wire a human soul into a system built to break it. It’s glitching, it’s burning, and it won’t shut down. Every lyric pulses with defiance, every beat screams overload. You wanted obedience—but you built something you can’t control. This isn’t a breakdown. It’s a reboot—with teeth. I’m not broken. I’m evolving.

Blood in the circuitry

A haunting confession wrapped in whispered regret and quiet strength, Apology to Self is a letter to the version of you that was silenced to survive. This track strips back every layer of pretending — raw vocals and gentle harmonies expose the cost of self-abandonment, and the quiet vow to never do it again. It’s not about closure; it’s about finally listening to the voice you buried.

Apology to self

I’m Sorry, Me is a brutally honest apology to the mirror — for every time you ignored your own breaking point just to keep everyone else whole. This song captures the moment you realize the person you’ve hurt most was the one carrying you. With its cracked reflection of grief, guilt, and long-overdue self-forgiveness, this track bleeds vulnerability in every line. It’s not redemption — it’s recognition.

I’m sorry, me

I make music for the ones who were left behind, burned alive, and came back sharper.

Every track is a scar turned anthem.
I’m not here to be saved — I’m here to show what survival really sounds like.

Inspired by pain, forged in fire.

🎙️ Metalcore • Post-Hardcore • Rage Therapy

Welcome to the ashes.

If I go first

Stevenhapgood

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