"Show Me" tells the story of a relationship broken by lies and mistakes. Admitting the pain he caused while she's with someone no good. Desperate to learn how to love her right and earn a second chance in a vulnerable plea for growth.

Show Me

"WENN DER SCHNEE ERZÄHLT" IST EIN RUHIGES, ACHTSAMES WINTERALBUM ÜBER NÄHE, ERINNERUNGEN UND DIE STILLE, DIE ENTSTEHT, WENN DRAUßEN ALLES LEISER WIRD. DIE SONGS VERBINDEN JAZZ-POP, AKUSTISCHE WÄRME UND POETISCHE BILDER. VON PLÄTZCHENDUFT UND SCHLITTENFAHRTEN BIS HIN ZU NACHTWELTEN, LICHT, INNERER TIEFE UND VERÄNDERUNG. EIN ALBUM FÜR WINTER VIBES, COZY MOMENTS UND GEMÜTLICHE ABENDE. MUSIK ZUM ATMEN, FÜHLEN UND HEIMKOMMEN. 

Der Ruf

Getragen

Morgenlicht

Perfekt

Wintermärchen

Winterhimmel

Alles da

Wachstropfen

Nachtwelten

Entre Sable et Sel, Chroniques d'Oléron" est le premier album de Lene Couneau, une artiste virtuelle née de l'imagination de Guillaume, passionné aux racines oléronaises.
Cet album est une déclaration d'amour à l'île d'Oléron, surnommée "La Lumineuse" pour sa lumière si particulière. À travers diverses chansons, Lene Couneau explore les multiples facettes de ce joyau de l'Atlantique : la mélancolie poétique de ses plages en hiver, la douceur de vivre de ses villages, l'énergie festive de ses soirées d'été, et la beauté sauvage de sa nature préservée.
Naviguant entre une folk-pop acoustique intime et une pop estivale légère et sophistiquée, l'album est une invitation au voyage, à la contemplation et au rêve. Les mélodies, portées par des guitares délicates, des pianos chaleureux et des touches de saxophone aérien, créent une atmosphère unique, à la fois nostalgique et lumineuse.
"La Lumineuse" est plus qu'un simple album ; c'est une expérience immersive, une balade sonore au cœur d'une île qui ne cesse de fasciner et d'inspirer.
Crédits :
Musique et paroles par Guillaume, avec l'assistance de l'IA.
Voix et interprétation par Lene Couneau, artiste virtuelle.

Marais et secrets

Solo acoustic performance of reworked versions of well known songs

Ain't My Bitch (Metallica Cover)

High And Dry (Radiohead Cover)

emzil.bandcamp.com/
More mxs: soundcloud.com/emzil/sets/cnt33eao5hrk?si

timelesslove[neo-スラッシ]

Old Sam and Jim on the Ridge Road steep,
Sam’s cattle crossed where the wild grass creeps,
Jim built his fence at the break of day,
But Sam’s herd drifted in anyway.
Clinking tin and splintered posts,
Words flew fast over ghostly coasts,
By night the lanterns lit the dust,
And neighbors whispered whose claim was just.

On the fence-line stand our grudges tall,
Voices echo down the hollow’s call,
From a stolen calf to a broken stake,
The court’s house waits for the one to break.

Mrs. Mae saw the cattle roam,
Saw her Sammy’s corn crushed where they comb,
She hollered up to Jim’s front door,
Said “Fix your fence or it breaks some more.”
Jim spat words like gravel stones,
Said “My land ends where my barn stands alone,”
Mae’s brother’s face under kerosene light,
Promised revenge if it came to fight.

On the fence-line stand our grudges tall,
Voices echo down the hollow’s call,
From a stolen calf to a broken stake,
The court’s house waits for the one to break.

In the courthouse hall the judge’s gavel falls,
Neighbors line up telling whose side calls,
Sam stands quiet, Jim stands tall,
But the land remembers the cattle’s crawl.

On the fence-line stand our grudges tall,
Voices echo down the hollow’s call,

The verdict came with the rooster’s crow,
Jim pays the fine, Mae’s corn will grow,
But the fence stays broken, the cattle still roam,
And the Ridge Road remembers their bitter home.
Old Sam said nothing, Mae wiped her tears,
The banjo strums on the end of years,
And neighbors whisper by moonlit sky,
“Who dug the fence and who let it die?”

On the fence-line stand our grudges tall,
Voices echo down the hollow’s call,
From a stolen calf to a broken stake,
The court’s house waits for the one to break.
When the fence is mended and the cattle roam free,
Still the banjo hums of the bitter decree.

In the courthouse hall

A neon‑drenched 80s synthwave reimagining of 'The Fate of Ophelia'. Pulsing analog basslines, lush retro pads and shimmering arpeggios wrap around her story like electric fog, turning a tragic fairy‑tale into a midnight drive through a violet city. Gated drums and vintage snares hit under a haunting, intimate vocal, while chorus hooks explode in fluorescent colors, as if castle towers and burning skies were reflected in wet asphalt and chrome. This version feels like a lost cassette from an alternate 1980s: cinematic, melancholic, romantic and defiant, where she doesn’t sink into the river — she walks away under neon lights and writes her own ending

The Fate of Ophelia (synthwave style)

In the little parlor by the waning light,
I touch those strings her fingers used each night,
Her melody flows in the embers’ glow,
Whispering rooms where the wild flowers grow.
The chair sits still where her laughter died,
And the photograph fades on the mantle side,
But I lift the dulcimer, breath held and slow,
And play her song for the home I used to know.

Dust on the doorstep, wind through the panes,
I hear her voice in the falling rain.

Play, mother’s dulcimer, in memory’s key,
Let your notes carry the home to me,
Though the walls are gone, though the hearth is cold,
Her lullaby lives in the hand I hold.
In this quiet chamber I find her there,
In every minor chord, in the silent air.

She taught me slowly, under candle’s flame,
How to call the night by its old name,
In the valley’s shadow, the mountains know,
The song we shared by the pines’ low glow.
Now I wander lonely where the doorway stood,
The gate has rusted, the roses in wood,
Still I sit by the window, dusk at my side,
And play her tune for the home that died.

Dust on the doorstep, wind through the panes,
I hear her voice in the falling rain.

Play, mother’s dulcimer, in memory’s key,
Let your notes carry the home to me,
Though the walls are gone, though the hearth is cold,
Her lullaby lives in the hand I hold.
In this quiet chamber I find her there,
In every minor chord, in the silent air.

And if the morning finds me all alone,
I’ll still hear her voice in every tone,
In every chord the past returns,
In every silence her memory burns.

Play, mother’s dulcimer, in memory’s key,
Let your notes carry the home to me,
Though the walls are gone, though the hearth is cold,
Her lullaby lives in the hand I hold.
In this quiet chamber I find her there,
In every minor chord, in the silent air.

Play, mother’s dulcimer

[Verse]
오늘 일은 어땠어? (How was your day?)
일이 많았어? (Was there a lot of work?)
잘 지내고 있기를 바라. (I hope you're doing well.)
행복하고 안전하길. (Be happy and safe.)

생활은 어때? (How's life?)
새로운 소식 있어? (Any new updates?)
여전히 웃고 있기를 바라. (I hope you're still smiling.)
그리고 네 길을 가고 있기를. (And I hope you're going your own way.)

[Chorus]
이 편지를 보내야 할지 모르겠어. (I don't know if I should send this letter.)
몇 마디 인사로 충분할까? (Will a few words of greeting be enough?)
아니면 다시 써야 할까. (Or should I rewrite it.)
확신이 들 때까지. (Until I feel sure.)

진실을 말해야 할지 모르겠어. (I don't know if I should tell the truth.)
아직도 네가 보고 싶다는 걸. (That I still miss you.)
정말 감히 말할 수가 없어. (I really don't dare to say it.)
보내기 전까지는. (Until I send it.)




이 편지 (The letter)

[Verse]
오늘 일은 어땠어? (How was your day?)
일이 많았어? (Was there a lot of work?)
잘 지내고 있기를 바라. (I hope you're doing well.)
행복하고 안전하길. (Be happy and safe.)

생활은 어때? (How's life?)
새로운 소식 있어? (Any new updates?)
여전히 웃고 있기를 바라. (I hope you're still smiling.)
그리고 네 길을 가고 있기를. (And I hope you're going your own way.)

[Chorus]
이 편지를 보내야 할지 모르겠어. (I don't know if I should send this letter.)
몇 마디 인사로 충분할까? (Will a few words of greeting be enough?)
아니면 다시 써야 할까. (Or should I rewrite it.)
확신이 들 때까지. (Until I feel sure.)

진실을 말해야 할지 모르겠어. (I don't know if I should tell the truth.)
아직도 네가 보고 싶다는 걸. (That I still miss you.)
정말 감히 말할 수가 없어. (I really don't dare to say it.)
보내기 전까지는. (Until I send it.)

[Verse]
오늘 일은 어땠어? (How was your day?)
일이 많았어? (Was there a lot of work?)
잘 지내고 있기를 바라. (I hope you're doing well.)
행복하고 안전하길. (Be happy and safe.)

생활은 어때? (How's life?)
새로운 소식 있어? (Any new updates?)
여전히 웃고 있기를 바라. (I hope you're still smiling.)
그리고 네 길을 가고 있기를. (And I hope you're going your own way.)

[Chorus]
이 편지를 보내야 할지 모르겠어. (I don't know if I should send this letter.)
몇 마디 인사로 충분할까? (Will a few words of greeting be enough?)
아니면 다시 써야 할까. (Or should I rewrite it.)
확신이 들 때까지. (Until I feel sure.)

진실을 말해야 할지 모르겠어. (I don't know if I should tell the truth.)
아직도 네가 보고 싶다는 걸. (That I still miss you.)
정말 감히 말할 수가 없어. (I really don't dare to say it.)
보내기 전까지는. (Until I send it.)

[Post-chorus]
읽어줬으면 좋겠어. (I wish you'd read it.)
널 향한 사랑이 담겨 있어. (It contains my love for you.)
못 받았더라도. (Even if you didn't receive it.)
운명인가 봐. (I guess it's fate.)

이 편지 (The letter) - Extended

ｍｕｓｉｃ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｍｕｌｔｉｖｅｒｓｅ

人生は短いです。

現在の経済情勢は不確実です。

私たちは第三次世界大戦の瀬戸際にいます。

さあ、私と一緒に夢の世界へ逃げましょう。私たちの内なる聖域は手つかずで、人生の重荷や抑圧から解放されます。

R.I.P: エムジル (19??-20??)

past life: https://soundcloud.com/milez-productions

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track ready for Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

I use every tool available, human or machine, as an instrument.
Technology doesn’t replace creativity. It expands it.

I'd love to call myself a model, musician, and singer... but there's a pretty big "BUT". I can't play a single instrument, I don't really sing, and I probably have no ear for music at all. So yeah, my actual skill level is basically zero 🤣

What I do have, I think, is good taste and a die-hard love for music. So, I started using AI to create tracks that I genuinely vibe with, and I want to share them with the world. I'm also learning to make visuals with the same AI to give my music a cool look—my future goal is to make full AI music videos.

On top of that, I'm a designer by trade, so working with AI on visuals also helps me sharpen my professional skills.

So yeah, that's pretty much my story. Please don't judge too harshly.

Follow me to keep up with my creative journey 😏 And if you have any questions, ask away! Constructive advice is also welcome ❤️

A part-time songwriter and full-time dreamer! Follow music with passion and dedication.

Ich möchte dir mit meiner Musik einen persönlichen Moment der Auszeit und des Auftankens schenken.
Als Mentalcoach und Atemcoach schreibe ich Songs, die sich anfühlen wie ein tiefes Durchatmen, in dem jemand sagt: „Atme. Ich halte das kurz für dich.“

Jeder Track ist ein kleiner Glücksmoment. Warm, sanft, poetisch.
Für dich, wenn du dir zwischen Alltag, Familie und Verantwortung einen Platz wünschst, an dem du kurz loslassen darfst.
Ein Atemzug. Ein Lichtmoment. Ein leiser Funken Ruhe.

Diamantenregen ist Musik, die dich einhüllt wie in eine kuschelig weiche Decke.

Lene Couneau est une création unique, une voix virtuelle qui donne vie aux émotions et aux paysages d'Oléron à travers une musique authentique et touchante.

Virginia-based rapper, songwriter, and producer Heroux blends Alternative R&B, Hip-hop, and Dark ambience. With Houston roots and now based in Roanoke, his music draws from influences like Travis Scott, Drake, and Kanye West to explore themes of love and self-discovery.

New tracks tagged #Intimate