Penser tout seul... Ih iH Ihhhh a ahhhh ouhhh ahhh ohh...
The most introspective and significant track i've made so far.
Show to your love ones that you do love them. Show to the others that you don't need them. Some people, sometimes valued as friends, just wait for you to fail, and love to see you fail. Others love you as you are, and can't wait to see you grow as a human, and make everything in their power to help you find yourself. Life is about finding the good friends, and cherish them. Fuck the others. Be a good friend to your real friends. Pandora is the step of my life that i walked, passed, to finally understand what's important. Now, i know whats important : To attain wisdom. And for that, one must understand that it is, on the one hand, a quest to discover who we truly are, and on the other, a journey where the path itself matters more than any final destination. We may never find the ultimate answer... and that’s okay. Wisdom isn’t a place we reach, but a road we build, stone by stone.
Today’s stone matters most; the next will come when it’s time. Fuck the ones who let you think otherwise. Embrace the ones who help you build today's stone.

Pandora

My piano rendition of Stolen Dance strips the song down to its emotional core — a slow, melancholic reflection on love, loss, and the quiet ache of moving on. Recorded during a breakup, each note carries the weight of memory and the hope of healing. It’s Milky Chance’s familiar melody, reimagined through solitude.

Stolen Dance (Piano Version)

A reimagined piano version of Eiffel 65’s Blue (Da Ba Dee) — transformed from its late-’90s energy into something deeply reflective and human. This interpretation slows the pulse, uncovering a quiet melancholy beneath the melody while still holding onto a fragile sense of hope.

Blue (Piano Version)

A faithful interpretation of Ludovico Einaudi’s Nuvole Bianche, performed with quiet restraint and emotional clarity. This version honors the original’s simplicity — each note breathing with the same sense of space, stillness, and hope that makes Einaudi’s work timeless.

Nuvole Bianche (Patrick Amunson Rendition)

A piano interpretation of A-ha’s Take On Me that blends the song’s timeless melody with a more introspective tone. Staying true to the original composition, this version slows the energy into something cinematic and fragile — a quiet echo of love, loss, and memory.

Take On Me (Piano Version)

Heart-Shaped Box has always carried both danger and devotion. This version slows it to a heartbeat — the space between obsession and surrender. A tribute to the beauty in distortion, reimagined through quiet keys and open air.

Heart-Shaped Box (Piano Version)

I wanted this version of Let Her Go to feel like closure — the kind that doesn’t hurt anymore. By slowing it down and letting the melody breathe, it becomes less about loss and more about gratitude. Sometimes letting go isn’t the end — it’s the start of something lighter.

Let Her Go (Piano Version)

"Why Don’t You Go Touch Yourself?" is an indie-rock slap to the face of performative morality — a tongue-in-cheek anthem for anyone tired of being judged by people who don’t know how to look in their own mirror. Mixing punk sarcasm, dreamy introspection, and drum-and-bass chaos, the track spins between playful rebellion and quiet truth.

It’s a whispered confession wrapped in a scream: a song about hypocrisy, projection, and self-love — the uncomfortable kind that starts when you stop policing everyone else. Underneath its teasing hook and frantic pulse, there’s a reminder that healing starts inward.

It’s messy, honest, and a little holy in its blasphemy.
For the sinners who meditate, the saints who rage, and everyone caught somewhere between.

Why Don’t You Go Touch Yourself?

One Last Dance

“Your Mother” is a contemporary pop anthem that explores the intricate dynamics of relationships, blending humour, tension, and reflection. Through vivid storytelling, it captures the push and pull between two people—small clashes, miscommunications, and fleeting joys—while revealing the deeper patterns inherited from family and past experiences. Each verse highlights how personal histories shape interactions, and how love and frustration often coexist. The chorus serves as a reflective anchor, emphasising that mistakes are opportunities for growth, forgiveness is a choice, and understanding one another requires tracing the invisible roots of behaviour. With dynamic vocals, dramatic tension, and melodic hooks, the song balances relatability and insight, ultimately delivering the ironic yet poignant twist of placing playful blame on ‘your mother’—a metaphor for the unseen forces that influence every relationship.

YOUR MOTHER!

Patrick Jae Amunson is a musician, producer, and entrepreneur bridging artistry and innovation. Adopted from South Korea and raised in Wisconsin, he began piano at four, later studying Sound Engineering in Los Angeles and managing catalogs at Sony/ATV’s Extreme Music. He founded Amunson Audio and The CoLabs, Inc. to empower artists worldwide while creating under the alias Fireye, releasing music under his own name, and producing with his bands Counter Culture and Eleven11.

Techno, Acidcore, and more

"La vie sans musique est tout simplement une erreur, une fatigue, un exil." (Nietzsche) 

Heizek303@gmail.com

Anbid Zaman is a queer activist and artist whose work rises from a life marked by displacement, resistance, and the insistence on living fully even when the world tries to deny that possibility. Born in Bangladesh and shaped by grassroots queer organizing from a young age, they grew into their voice through community struggle — learning early that courage isn’t an act, but a daily discipline.

Their journey from danger to refuge transformed them without erasing their origins. Living in Germany, Anbid continues to work at the intersections of identity, migration, and liberation, supporting queer people who face violence and navigating the complexities of chosen family, safety, and belonging. Their activism is guided by deep commitments: justice without compromise, solidarity across borders, and an unshakeable belief that marginalised voices should be heard not with pity, but with respect.

These values spill directly into their music. Anbid’s sound blends testimonial storytelling, emotional minimalism, and atmospheric layers shaped by memory — the quiet of hiding, the noise of protest, the ache of leaving, the thrill of surviving. Each track carries the weight of lived experience and the brightness of hope that refuses to die. Their art is not just expression; it is continuation, resistance, and a reminder that stories carry power long before the world acknowledges them.

New tracks tagged #Expressive