Tek Başıma - Hardstyle Remix

Aşka Çarem Yok - Hardstyle Remix

Dağılmak İstiyorum - Hardstyle Remix

Poşet - Hardstyle Remix

OD - Hardstyle Remix

credits to : https://soundcloud.com/anguishvx/snova?si=9b11b29b51db4ef68928c4d607c17236&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

SNOVA XDD (speedup)

A concert aria written in the operatic tradition, expanding on the lyrical theme of “No Man’s Heart Aches Forever.” This work stands apart from its earlier folk-ballad incarnation, reimagined here as an epic lament and vow of endurance. The piece explores anguish and determination through shifting tonal landscapes, lyrical manipulation, and thematic transition. Neither purely opera nor folk, it belongs to an experimental cycle that bridges chamber music, aria form, and modern expressive narrative.

[LYRICS]

I held through night’s unspoken storm,
wrote down your name in every flame.
Time seemed to halt—its breath was warm
yet love stayed mute when called by name.
The clocks cried out against the moon;
I begged the stars to change their tune…

But even sorrow learns a thread
that loosens gently as it’s led;
a melody beneath the pain
that softens, drifting like the rain.
And something quiet in the air
begins to teach the heart to bear

No man’s heart aches forever,
though it may break each day;
the storms will pass, the skies grow brighter,
and pain will drift away.

I watched the tide deny the shore,
the shadow cross the bedroom door;
I learned to breathe in broken light,
to nurse a spark through longest night.
If grief must come, then let it speak—
I will not bend, but I’ll be meek.
For still a mercy moves like dawn,
and finds the world it falls upon.

No man’s heart aches forever,
though midnight begs it stay;
the thunder fades, the hush grows wiser,
and pain is swept away.

So let the night be gentler now,
let silence keep its patient vow;
the breath I lost returns at last—
a smaller grief, a larger vast.
I do not ask the stars to lie;
I learn instead to let them shine.

No man’s heart aches forever,
though it may feel that way;
for even grief surrenders slowly
to dawn’s forgiving ray.

I stand, I breathe, I mend, I rise—
I lift my gaze to brighter skies;
What broke by night by day is mended,
the song resumes where sorrow ended.
Beat after beat, the heart learns how:
it breaks and yet it keeps its vow.

No heart breaks on forever!
No darkness owns the day!
The storm that tried to name me
has washed its name away.
No heart breaks on forever!
I claim the living way—
the light returns, the pulse remembers,
and pain is borne away.

So let the dawn be soft and sure,
let every wound turn less and pure;
for where the night once learned to stay,
the morning asks to lead the way.
No man’s heart aches forever…
The clocks fall quiet—
the heart keeps time… and stays.

A3-S3 No Man’s Heart Aches Forever (Aria da Concerto • Neo-Opera • Baritone • Orchestral)

"What My Dreams Are Made Of" is a heartfelt song about the deep yearning to feel at home within yourself. Written when Nick was 19, describing the inner struggle of learning to accept who you are—flaws, fears, and all. With powerful lyrics and a dreamy, introspective sound, it captures the confusion and battle with early addiction, 'life on life's terms', and fear of being left to battle alone.

What My Dreams Are Made Of

What My Dreams Are Made Of (Frank Towers Version)

Commissioned and performed by the Westminster Schola Cantorum and Conductor Heather Buchanan, O God, Why Have You Forsaken Us? is an adaptation by the composer of Psalm 22 to represent the cries of all people who are the victims of genocide. Schola Cantorum consisted of just the sophomores of Westminster Choir College whose average age was 19. This is a recording of the premiere, which took place in Bristol Chapel in Princeton, NJ. I am always proud of my students, but never more than these, whose hard work contributed to this moving performance.

O God, why have You forsaken us?
Why are You so far from helping us and from the words of our roaring?
O God, we cry in the day and in the night, but You do not hear us.

People before us trusted in You.
They trusted and You did deliver them.
They cried to You and were delivered.
They trusted in You and were not confounded.
But we are worms, not people, disgraces despised by the people.
All who see us laugh us to scorn.
They shoot out their lips and shake their heads saying,
They trusted that the Lord would deliver them.
Let Him deliver them!

O God, why have You forsaken us?
Why are You so far from helping us and from the words of our roaring?
O God, we cry in the day and in the night, but You do not hear us.

Mighty bulls surround us,
Gaping upon us with their mouths
Like ravening roaring lions.
We are poured out like water
And all our bones are out of joint.
Our hearts are like wax, 
Melted in the midst of our bowels.
Our strength is dried up like potsherds
And our tongues cleave to our jaws.
You delivered us,
You have delivered us
Into the dust of death!

O God, why did You forsake us?
Why were You so far from helping us and from the words of our roaring?
O God, we cried in the day and in the night, but You did not hear us.
Could You not hear us?


O God, Why Have You Forsaken Us?

Бесприданница

Pitch up/down tester lol
discord : lymoncito

Joel Phillips taught at Westminster Choir College for 39 years. He is co-author of several textbooks in W. W. Norton’s Musician’s Guide series, including The Musician's Guide to Fundamentals, now the mostly widely used musical text in its market. His crowning achievement was becoming the 2015 Grand Prize Winner of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest [https://www.bulwer-lytton.com/2015], an international competition that selects from among thousands of entries the proposed opening sentence to the worst(!) of all possible novels.

I’ve always lived at the crossroads of music and poetry — where feeling becomes form, and melody turns memory into meaning. Whether it’s a lingering jazz note, a well-placed rhyme, or a shift in tempo that tells a deeper story, I’m drawn to that quiet magic where art reflects life with a little more style.

My roots are in classic music — the kind that doesn’t chase the moment but lingers with you long after the last note. Over time, that love expanded into poetry writing and jazz — especially the kind that swings, speaks, and smirks all at once. Jazz, to me, isn’t just a genre; it’s a personality. A conversation. A little tilt of the head and a grin that knows more than it says.

When I set out to create an album, it’s rarely just a collection of songs. I approach it like a personal playlist — one that drifts and flows as if the entire tracklist were one long, uninterrupted piece. Each track leans into the next, shifting mood, pace, or voice, but always carrying the same thread of feeling. I want you to listen the way I do — not as a shuffle of moments, but as a cinematic arc. One breath that lasts an hour.

Lyrically, my work is rooted in lived experience. Sometimes it’s obvious. Other times it’s just the skeleton of a memory, dressed up in wit, irony, or longing. I draw from real-life events, then let the poet in me twist, stretch, or sweeten them to taste. Depending on the tone of the album — playful, romantic, nostalgic, or something in between — I try to keep the emotional truth intact while giving it a fresh coat of creativity. A little humor where it fits. A deeper dive where it hurts.

My newest jazz album continues this tradition — short-lined swing tracks, conversational duets, and tongue-in-cheek storytelling. It’s an homage to late-night alleyway ballads, rooftop serenades, and train station goodbyes — all bound together with a sense of charm and cohesion. Each song is its own little scene, but together they tell a story — one you can revisit with each replay.

Thanks for stopping by my profile. I hope you find something that earns a spot on your repeat-play list — a melody, a lyric, or a moment that feels like it was written just for you.

New tracks tagged #Anguish