✨ Step into a shimmering world of disco revival! This album brings back the golden age of dancefloors — where glitter ruled, basslines bounced, and Saturday night fever never ended.
💃 Inspired by legends like Donna Summer, Chic, Cerrone, and the Bee Gees, Back to the Groove blends vintage synths, funky grooves, and modern beats.
🎛️ Expect sultry vocals, analog arpeggios, punchy bass, lush pads, and irresistible claps — a perfect fusion of retro charm and fresh energy.

🪩 Whether you're here to dance, shine, or spin that mirrorball of memories — this is your soundtrack.

J te jure

Powerful female soul vocals meet cheeky, filter-funk French House grooves in this danceable PSA for the chronically flaky.

It’s the soundtrack for anyone who’s ever heard:
“Let’s do Friday, babe” — only to watch Friday turn into Saturday morning radio silence, followed by a Sunday-night text that just says, “Next week?”

Built on a slinky bassline, disco-dipped guitars, and a beat smoother than his excuses, Weekend Promises loops those broken plans into an irresistible hook you can rely on. Perfect for:

Waiting at the café for someone who’s “on their way” (for the last 45 minutes)

Dancing your frustration into something fabulous

Declaring that the only date you trust is your calendar app

💃 Press play, shake it out, and let him weekend-plan himself right out of your heart.

Lyrics:

You told me once on a Friday night
“This weekend’s ours, we’ll do it right”
You said it like it was set in stone
I cleared my time, stayed by the phone

But then next day, you were hard to find
You said you “might just change your mind”
Texted late with a brand new plan
Now I don’t know where we stand

Are you here, are you gone, are you just passing through?
Or is this some game that you like to do?

You’ve got weekend promises, paper thin
Changing the story once again
Yesterday you swore we’d meet at eight
Tonight you’re running two hours late
Weekend promises, fading fast
Hard to trust when they never last
Maybe you forgot, or maybe you planned it
Either way, boy, you’ve weekend-planned it

It’s not the time, it’s the way you shift
Like every plan comes with a twist
One day yes, then the next day no
You keep me guessing where we’ll go

Do you mean what you say, or just like to pretend?
Can’t tell where you start, can’t tell where you end

You’ve got weekend promises, paper thin
Changing the story once again
Yesterday you swore we’d meet at eight
Tonight you’re running two hours late
Weekend promises, fading fast
Hard to trust when they never last
Maybe you forgot, or maybe you planned it
Either way, boy, you’ve weekend-planned it

Maybe it’s not the timing at all
Maybe you’re just afraid to call
In and out of what you say
Like the truth’s on holiday

Weekend promises, paper thin
Changing the story once again
Yesterday you swore we’d meet at eight
Tonight you’re lost in another state
Weekend promises, fading fast
Hard to trust when they never last
Maybe you forgot, or maybe you planned it
Either way, boy, you’ve weekend-planned it

Weekend Promises

Whisper your love

Midnight in Paris (Under the Eiffel Disco Light)

☀️💃 Holy house loops, disco devotion, and a bassline blessed by the heavens 💃☀️

Welcome to the convent party of the century, where the sisters trade habits for halter tops and the only thing holier than the rosary is the filtered funk loop.

"Nun in the Sun" is a French House / Filter Disco / Soulful Groove confession of love, light, and sidechained salvation — with a cheeky wink and a dancefloor prayer.

👡 Funky sandals? ✅
🕶 SPF 100? ✅
🙏 Vows of groove? Double ✅

Picture this:
The bell strikes noon. The wine is not for communion. A radiant Sister steps into the sun, lifts her veil, and drops it like it’s blessed.
Filtered pads sweep. The bassline preaches. And somewhere, a DJ in heaven cries holy tears of joy.

💿 Features:
– Punchy 4/4 beats to absolve your sins
– Playful female vocals holier than thou
– A chorus that will stick like confetti in your soul
– Enough soul to start a minor religious revival

🕺💒 Warning: May cause spontaneous genuflection on the dancefloor.
🎛 For best results, play loud and light a disco-scented candle.

She wakes at seven,
Prays by nine,
But when the bell rings noon —
She’s divine.
Out of the habit, into the light,
Blessed by the bass, she's feelin’ right.

White veil… wind in her hair
Holy groove… floatin’ on air
Forgive me, Sister… I must confess —
You’re heaven in that summer dress.

🎶 Nun in the sun, nun in the sun
Halle-halle-hallelujah fun
Nun in the sun, nun in the sun
Dancin’ till the day is done 🎶
(Repeat 2x with filters sweeping)

Sandal feet on golden sand,
Rosary beads and a disco band.
No sins today, no shade, no shame,
Just rhythm, light, and a higher flame.

She say:
"Peace, love… SPF 100"
Choir of birds and a beat that’s thundered
One hand prays, one hand spins —
This is how confession begins.

🎶 Nun in the sun, nun in the sun
Midday mass with a maraschino one
Nun in the sun, nun in the sun
Groovin' with the Lord — and then some 🎶

(Amen... ooh la la...)
Nun... in the suuuuuun...
(Sidechain fadeout with layered harmonies)

Nun in the Sun

✈️💋 LOUD ON CLOUD 💋✈️
French House / Filter Disco / Soulful Groove

Fasten your seatbelt — this isn't your average in-flight experience. Welcome aboard Air Groove 747, where the only turbulence comes from the bassline. Filtered disco loops, punchy 4/4 beats, and playful female vocals guide you through a soulful sky journey with extra legroom and zero responsibilities.

Imagine: a divine jet-set nun swaps her rosary for rosé, her vows for voguing, and glides through clouds like glitter through a mirrorball. Cabin lights dim, sidechained pads rise, and suddenly it’s a full-blown midair boogie at 30,000 feet.

👠 Turbulence? She dances through it.
🍹 Duty-free? She bought the DJ.
👼 In-flight entertainment? That’s her.

This is your captain speaking: “You are now free to move your soul.” 🕺💃

Lyrics:

Gate closed at seven,
Wheels up by nine,
And by the time we cruise —
She’s divine.
Socks off, shades on, no more plight,
Blessed by the bass, she’s feelin’ right.

Window seat… glow in her hair
Holy beats… floatin’ on air
Excuse me, steward — I must confess —
She’s heaven in that wrap dress.

🎶 Loud on cloud, loud on cloud
Clap your hands and move around
Loud on cloud, loud on cloud
Thirty-thousand feet of sound 🎶

Gold card life with paper fans,
Cocktail trays and cheeky plans.
No rules today, no shoes, no shame,
Just rhythm, sky, and a higher flame.

She say:
“Peace, love… SPF 100”
Beat so smooth, it’s slightly blunted.
One hand waves, one hand spins —
This is where the fun begins.

🎶 Loud on cloud, loud on cloud
Rosé lips and voices loud
Loud on cloud, loud on cloud
Party in the vapor crowd 🎶

(Ahh… oh là là…)
Loooooud… on the clouuuuuud…

Loud on Cloud

🔥🥵 CAUTION: THIS TRACK MAY MELT YOUR DANCEFLOOR.
“Boiling Bones” is not responsible for spontaneous combustion, broken fans, or the mysterious disappearance of clothing.

A dangerously steamy French House banger served straight from the disco furnace, this track delivers lava-hot basslines, filter-fried synths, and a soul diva vocal so fierce, it might set off your smoke alarm. It’s the sound of two bodies colliding in 40°C shade, when flirtation turns into ritual, and rhythm replaces common sense.

From golden hour to golden thighs, this anthem has everything:
💃 hips that move like honey on vinyl
🔥 grooves that smelt your willpower
🎤 vocals that slap harder than a sunburn at noon

By the time the chorus hits — “Let your bones boil, baby!” — you’ll be too sweaty to care and too far gone to stop. Perfect for rooftop raves, forbidden kisses, or dancing through heatwaves in nothing but your intentions.

Warning: May cause overheating, neighbor complaints, and irrational love confessions.

Lyrics:

You walk in like the heatwave’s king
Golden sweat, that summer sting
Eyes lock — my pulse goes wild
Bassline hits and the air gets styled

Body slow like honey on chrome
You say my name and I lose control
No breeze, no break, no shade to find
Just hips in time and hearts aligned

Snap that fan — too late, too hot
One more move, I’m gonna blow my top
Skin’s on fire, lips like wine
Boy, this heat? It's by design

🎶 Let your bones boil, baby — feel that heat!
Let the rhythm take over, move those feet
We got fever where the sun can’t go
Heartbeats slammin’ like a stereo
Let your bones boil, baby — don’t you stop!
Got that lava love, let it bubble and pop
We’re burnin’ up, deep in our zones
Turn it up, turn it loose — these boiling bones! 🎶

Back to back, chest to flame
We don’t talk — we play the game
Silk on skin, sweat on lace
You drop that beat, I drop my grace

Neon glows on my caramel thighs
His hands preach fire and no goodbyes
One last touch, I might combust
When the groove is gold, surrender’s a must

Bend with the bass, roll with the heat
That smelting love, oh, it's bittersweet
No rules, no fears, no cooling zone
We dance like gods on a furnace throne

🎶 Let your bones boil, baby — feel that heat!
Let the rhythm take over, move those feet
We got fever where the sun can’t go
Heartbeats slammin’ like a stereo
Let your bones boil, baby — don’t you stop!
Got that lava love, let it bubble and pop
We’re burnin’ up, deep in our zones
Turn it up, turn it loose — these boiling bones! 🎶

🎶 Boiling, boiling... oh, we boiling bones...
In the fire, we made a home…
Groove so hot, it carved in stone…
Let your bones boil, baby... all night long… 🎶

Boiling Bones

Meet Mister Germany.

He paid full price. He read the reviews. He printed the confirmation email twice.

But now he’s in Italy, sweating gently through his beige travel vest, and something feels… wrong. The cappuccino came without a heart. The cookie was dry. The minibar is locked. And the hotel staff — though polite — failed to greet him in German.

So he asks, with quiet intensity and growing despair:
“…and where is my little extra?”

This Nu Disco banger tells the tragicomic tale of one man’s journey through sun, crumbs, and unmet expectations. A funky hymn for every overprepared holidaymaker who came for gelato and soul, but got lukewarm charm and sunburn instead.

🎧 Think Giorgio Moroder meets Fernweh-induced rage.
📍Think Rome — but Mr. Germany can’t enjoy it because the guide didn’t hand out a branded tote bag.
🎶 And think again if you believe a lump of sugar counts as a gesture.

Lyrics:

🎶 ...and where is my little extra?
I paid full price, you know.
A cookie’s not a gesture —
It’s the bare minimum show.
...and where is my little extra?
This sun is much too hot.
You say it's “authentic charm” —
I say: is this all I got? 🎶

I sit with posture, napkin set,
Cappuccino mild and wet.
One sad biscuit, no delight —
No silver tray, no frothy height.

"Excuse me, yes... it’s almost fine.
But where is my almond? Where is my shine?
No foam heart? No whipped finesse?
Is this what you call Italian chicness?"

🎶 ...and where is my little extra?
The sugar’s in a lump.
No mint leaf, no biscotti —
Just a caffeine bump. 🎶

Spotless sheets, ergonomic chair,
But where’s the rose? The scented air?
The minibar is locked and tight —
They fear my thirst? That’s not polite.

But where is the soul? The welcome kit?
No chocolate square, no fancy robe?
Just beige, beige, beige across the globe."

The guide says: “Look, the Vatican wall!”
But I expected something tall.
He speaks with passion, shows the street —
But I see dust, and aching feet.
"No samples? No cool-down wine?
No branded bag with ancient sign?
I want the extras, not the sweat —
This tour's a debt I won’t forget."

🎶 ...and where is my little extra?
I left my comfort zone.
I came to feel superior —
But now I feel alone.
...and where is my little extra?
Is it cultural, this gap?
In Germany we do things right —
We even gift a map. 🎶

... and where is my little extra?

🪩✨ "Banger or Hanger?" ✨🪩
Welcome to Groove House Court, where the beat is law and the sass is loud. Judge, jury, and disco executioner? That’s her — the bold soul diva asking the eternal Saturday night question:

👉 Are you the drop... or just the drip?

Set at a silky-sassy 122–125 BPM, this track slides in like your ex in the DMs — smooth, a little too confident, and probably wearing too much cologne. But unlike your ex, this groove delivers:

🎹 Uplifting piano house chords filtered to flirt with your serotonin
🥁 Punchy 4/4 kicks and clap combos that slap harder than truth at 2AM
🎸 Funky Moog-style basslines that thump like they mean it
👠 A soul queen vocal who belts, burns, and side-eyes every poser in the club

From whispered intros to "hands-up, eyes-closed, chorus-drop ecstasy," this is the soundtrack for anyone who’s done with the smoke, mirrors, and fashion influencers quoting Nietzsche.

💋 Mood?
🔥 Sass meets sweat.
🎤 Attitude with altitude.
🧠 Philosophy with a side of filter-slay.

So hit play, grab your prosecco, and ask the dancefloor:
“Are you a banger… or just another hanger?”

Lyrics:

You look good.
You talk big.
But are you it... or just in it?

You walk in like you own the light,
Smooth smile, but is it right?
All the moves, the velvet tone —
But baby, are you shine or just cologne?

Champagne chat, those easy lines,
Claimed you DJed “back in ‘09.”
You flex so loud, but tell me this:
Is there more than just a filtered kiss?

I’ve seen boys dressed like the night,
But couldn’t spark a candle light.
So cut the talk, just hit the floor —
Let me see if there’s something more.

🎶 Are you a banger or a hanger-on?
Midnight thrill or just tag-along?
Are you the beat that makes me sway,
Or just a shadow in the way?
You say the words, but do you sting?
Or are you clinging to the bling?
So what’s your vibe — a spark, a flame?
Or just a hanger with a fancy name? 🎶

Your playlist screams “I’m deep and rare,”
But I just see expensive hair.
You talk in memes, you quote Bukowski —
But real hearts don’t work that glossy.

You bought the look, you learned the slang —
But do you hum or just go clang?
I need the rhythm, not the role —
A burning touch, not just control.

You post like heat, but do you feel?
Do you groove or just appeal?
Come closer now, no more disguise —
Let’s see if you can magnetize.

🎶 Are you a banger or a hanger babe?
Fire in skin or fashion slave?
Are you the drop that shakes the room,
Or just perfume without the boom?
I’ve heard it all, I’ve played the game —
I’m not your prize, I’m not your fame.
So if you’re lit, then light me too —
But if you’re a hanger... boy, we’re through. 🎶

Don’t want another empty throne,
Don’t need a king who’s just a clone.
Be the bassline in my song —
Or don’t be here at all that long.

🎶 Are you a banger or a hanger, huh?
Do you build the night or just say “bruh”?
Are you the rise before the scream,
Or just a background in the dream?
I’m not sold by what you wear —
I want the storm, not just the air.
So come correct or take a bow —
You’re in my world… impress me now. 🎶

Banger or Hanger?

Step inside the velvet-lit world of Discothèque Decadence — where the champagne flows, the bassline smoulders, and the dancefloor becomes an irresistible spell.

This set drips with the kind of late-night heat that keeps bodies moving and eyes locked. From Da Lukas & Majuri’s extended temptation of “Nasty Girl”, to a hypnotic reimagining of Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams” via Steve Angello, to my own Out of Control edit of Laura Branigan’s “Self Control” — every track here has been polished for maximum seduction.

You’ll glide through Sade’s “Paradise” given fresh life by Mark Lower & Alexandra Prince, a honeyed spin on A Taste of Honey’s “Boogie Oogie Oogie”, the shimmering disco mischief of KC & The Sunshine Band in an Eric Kipper extended ride, and Kool & The Gang’s “Fresh” reinvented with OnDaMike’s club-ready punch. Along the way, Séamus Haji & Kathy Brown, Ken@Work, Shabi, HP Vince, Groovemasta, Chewy Rubs, Eugenio Fico & Walterino, Micky More & Andy Tee, Greg Wilson and more deliver heaters you think you know… until they arrive dressed for midnight.

Warm. Sexy. Sultry. Dangerous.
The sound of a dancefloor you never want to leave.

Press play… and don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Nu Disco All Night Long - Discothèque Decadence DD006

Under the name CREATIVINE, Eric ROSK creates and signs original music pieces for visual media. With over 350 original works registered with SACEM, he brings the expertise of a seasoned professional composer and producer to the evolving world of sound.

Eric began his career working with magnetic tape in some of the most renowned studios in Paris, before becoming one of the first in France to adopt computer-based music production (DAW systems). Always at the forefront of technological evolution, he has continuously adapted his creative tools to match the times.

Today, drawing from his rich background, he explores new artistic directions through AI-assisted composition and orchestration, blending human emotion with algorithmic precision to build a unique, emotion-driven music library for film, documentary, advertising, and interactive media.

👉 Do not hesitate to get in touch for the creation of a custom repertoire tailored to your production needs.

Hi there — welcome to my corner of the web.

I’m here for one simple reason: to share my music with you.
Take a listen, explore, and I hope something here resonates with you. Enjoy the vibe!

Discothèque Decadence
The Home of House, Funk, Disco & Dance.

Step into a world of groove-heavy rhythms and uplifting beats.
Curated by DJ The Funk Assassin — delivering the finest new releases, timeless classics, and killer remixes every week.

For bookings & enquiries:
thefunkassassin@gmail.com

Follow for pure Discothèque Decadence.
Have Funk!

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