Full mental breakdown on the dance floor.

Breakdowns & Dance Floors

A prayer for the end of the year, reminiscing on my times in Florida and the struggles of being a Christian.

Prayerful

A slow-burn drift through broken lines, bruised hearts, and that strange hope that sometimes leaks through the cracks. “Wherever, whatever, have a nice day” is a bruised little postcard from the nineties, pulled from the roadside mood of My Own Private Idaho and rebuilt in the now. Kaelib and Juno Wilde lean into quiet collapse and soft resilience. A track that wanders, wonders, and never fully settles.

Wherever, whatever, have a nice day

These lyrics, written back in 1995, came out of that old, exhausting debate about whether being gay was a “choice” or something baked into your bones. The song never cared about the answer. It simply pushed back: even if it were a choice, it harms no one, and it belongs to the person living it.

There’s a darker thread running through it too. The idea of being marked, labelled, reduced to a symbol. That reference pulls from the history of people branded and punished for who they were, from queer kids in schoolyards to the brutal echoes of those marked in camps. The point was always the same: dehumanisation starts with a label.

This version is a modern rendering of an old protest written by a younger self who refused to be boxed in.

A personal choice

blends emotional depth with electronic energy, house rhythm, pop-funk groove, rock edge, and soul feeling. A late-night track about memory, connection, and the names that stay with us long after the lights go out. Made for city drives, quiet moments, and midnight reflections.

👉 Listen on Spotify

In the Shadows of Your Name

A reflection pulled from the shadows of early-90s Sydney, “all that is gone” sits somewhere between memory and myth. It’s a song about the men we walked past, the stories we inherited, and the things we tried to teach that never quite stuck. A slow burn about dignity, damage, and the ghosts a city creates.

Written in ’92. Revisited now.

All that is gone

“The Universe Within” is a song about that strange moment when you’re standing under the night sky and everything suddenly feels bigger than you—and somehow, more personal too. It’s about realising you’re small, but not insignificant. Quiet, but still connected. Human, but made of something ancient and infinite.

The track leans into a slow-burn, meditative energy. The vocal keeps everything grounded while the lyrics wander into cosmic territory: identity, fear, wonder, and the feeling that maybe we carry whole galaxies inside us.

If you love introspective folk, atmospheric textures, and songs that make you stare out the window a little longer, this one belongs to you.

Sit with it. Let it breathe. Let it open something.

Lyrics:

Alone beneath a sky gone black,
The stars above held the darkness back.
It hit me how small my life could be,
And in that moment, it occurred to me.

Something awakened in my mind,
Like doors I didn’t notice opening wide.

I’m part of everything that is,
I’m made of everything that's already been.
What made this wonder is inside of me
I'm the universe within,

I saw my own reflection lose its shape,
My edges are blurring with outer space.
If I’m the dream, then who's the dreamer,
Must be the part of me that sees things clearer.

Something awakened in my mind,
Like doors I didn’t notice opening wide.

I’m part of everything that is,
I’m made of everything that's already been.
What made this wonder is inside of me
I'm the universe within,

And standing there, the fear began to fade,
The vastness felt like something I had made.
The light was in me too, and now I see
All that had lived still lived through me.

I’m part of everything that is,
I’m made of everything that's been.
What made this wonder is inside of me
I'm the universe within,

As the universe expands, so will I,
Long after I've breathed my last.
The light I carry will fold back into time,
And all I was will fade into the past.

Listen on Spotify

The Universe Within

A quiet storm of a song. “Blame” drifts through velvet synths and shadowed strings, letting the voice confess what politeness usually smothers. It lingers on the moment a soul finally stops rescuing another and chooses truth instead. Each line circles the wound with a kind of decadent honesty, the sort that hurts because it is beautiful. The pulse stays low, the mood stays dark, and the song moves like a midnight letter never meant to be sent. A study in betrayal, clarity, and the strange relief that arrives when you return the blame to its rightful owner.

Blame

Sharing a raw, early version of something new I’m working on.

"Hold My Own" is a late-night reflection on the silence that grows between people, the feeling of being physically near someone while emotionally miles apart. It’s about the cruelty of silence and trying to find your footing when the days start to blur.

Still finding the final shape for this one, but wanted to share the idea in its stripped-back form.

Thank you for listening.

'Cause I've been here for, 
been here for so long 
And I wonder how to hold my own 
And I hear you singing into the night 
Watch as the moon rises high 
The sun won't know it's own daylight

I Never knew you could be so cruel
I never knew you could be so cruel 
Without saying a word to me 
Without saying a word to me


Hold My Own

Before Your Name is a slow, lyric-driven folk / alt-country ballad about late-diagnosed autism - finally finding a name for why you always felt like “a shadow in a crowded room.”

It’s built around close acoustic guitar and an intimate baritone vocal, more confessional poem than radio single: years of feeling half-present, the ache of every night “halfway through,” then the slow work of learning to sit with what’s true and let each night run fully through.

[LYRICS]

I was a shadow in a crowded room
A face among my closest few
Before your name, I never knew
Why every night felt halfway through

If only dawn would heed my calling
As I beg the sun to sleep
So every thought, awake or dreaming
Is left to brew, then slowly steep

Oh, sweet unhurried heart of mine
Do learn the dark and choose to shine

So go on now… just choose to shine

I am no shadow in a crowded room
Not just a face among a few
I learned to sit with what was true
And let each night run fully through

Oh, sweet unhurried heart of mine
Oh, sweet unhurried heart of mine

Before Your Name ❤️ For The Ones Unseen, Autistic Hearts

LoveBot Army is a music collective pushing beyond genre and form. From cinematic dream pop to raw hip hop, from glacial ballads to underground tech house. Each album is a new chapter in a shape-shifting sound journey.

Our process is human at its core, emotion first, instinct-led, but we embrace technology as a creative amplifier. With AI-assisted, human-driven production, we craft music that’s both visceral and visionary.

LoveBot Army is more than sound. It’s immersive. It’s collaborative. It’s a multi-sensory world built with digital artists, visual storytellers, and rule-breakers across every medium.

Let the music find you.

💖 Let’s create something unforgettable, together.

#LovebotArmy #GenreFluid #AltPop #DreamPop #DarkPop #EDMCollective #ExperimentalMusic #CinematicSound #HipHopUnderground #IndieElectronica #PopNoir #MusicCollective #EmotionalSoundscapes #MultisensoryExperience #CreativeCollaboration #SoundAsStory #BeyondGenre #FutureOfSound #VisualMusic

DKSinaro creates music with emotion at its core — blending smooth vocals, dark atmospheres, and cinematic storytelling into a sound that’s unmistakably his. Each track explores desire, honesty, and late–night introspection, shifting effortlessly between moods and styles. A voice built on vulnerability and intensity, DKSinaro invites listeners into a world where every song feels like a moment captured in time.DK SINARO — Official Links
All platforms ↓
https://daniko999666-design.github.io/dksinaro/

Mo•Louie is a Melbourne/Naarm-based artist, producer and engineer making bold, surreal pop music built for the dancefloor and beyond. She blends alt-pop, electronica and sound design to create immersive tracks full of texture, drama and emotional grit. Using warped samples, raw foley and striking vocals, Mo crafts entire sonic worlds that are theatrical, chaotic, and deeply intentional.

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.

Out in Texas, I make music about the Human Experience.

Howdy! I’m Alexander Rivers, a songwriter, guitarist, and student of voice. These are raw, one-take sketches recorded on my phone whenever I pick up a guitar. I’m finding my sound, stretching into something new, just truth in the moment. I'm working on a more polished version of these songs (and others) to put in an album one day.

Some of these songs reflect hard things, grief, loss, mental health. If you’re already carrying something heavy, and these songs speak to it, please know you’re not alone. Music is how I process pain, maybe it helps you too.

If you’re struggling, please reach out:
📞 US: 988 or 1-800-273-8255 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline)
💬 Chat: 988lifeline.org/chat
🌍 Global support: 988lifeline.org/help-yourself


I’m also a proud supporter of To Write Love on Her Arms (https://twloha.com), a movement dedicated to hope and help for anyone struggling.


Thanks for listening. Truly.

New tracks tagged #introspective