Ever wonder what your week gets up to when you’re not looking?
Turns out, all seven days moonlight as a soft-focus indie band.

They rehearse in your living room at 2 PM on a Sunday, playing through warm vinyl crackle and chords that sound like they’ve been left out in the sun too long. Monday mopes in with his pockets full of sighs, Tuesday is scribbling unsent love letters on the back of grocery lists, and Friday smells faintly of nostalgia and reheated takeaway. Somewhere in the background, a lazy beat yawns itself awake while someone hums that lalala hook you’ll still be humming at the bus stop next week.

It’s music for:
☀️ Sitting in a patch of sunlight you didn’t notice before
📆 Forgetting what day it is on purpose
🫖 Brewing tea you’ll forget to drink until it’s cold

Press play, let the days drift by in slow motion, and don’t worry — Monday’s in no rush either.

Lyrics:

Monday drifts in with a shadowed face
Hands in his pockets, moving at a fragile pace
He hums a song no one remembers well
Something between a greeting and a farewell

Tuesday writes letters she’ll never send
Leaves them in drawers, knowing how they’ll end
Her smile is pale, like the early rain
She wears the quiet, she wears the strain

🎶 Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
Lalala la lalalalalalala
Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
La lalalalalalala 🎶

Wednesday’s a bridge half-lost in the mist
Carrying dreams that barely exist
He leans on the rail, staring at the tide
Counting the waves as they slip and hide

Thursday is lonely, but she hides it well
She speaks of tomorrow like a fragile spell
Her eyes are glass, but the cracks don’t show
She’s the promise of warmth in a world of snow

🎶 Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
Lalala la lalalalalalala
Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
La lalalalalalala 🎶

Friday wears perfume like a faded flame
She dances alone, whispering someone’s name
Her laughter’s soft, but it slips away
Like the end of a song you wanted to stay

Saturday sighs under silver skies
Her joy is a ghost in her half-closed eyes
She sleeps through the sun, wakes for the moon
Knowing both will be gone too soon

Sunday’s a blanket, frayed at the seams
Holding you close inside her dreams
She hums a tune you almost recall
Before Monday returns to take it all

🎶 Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
Lalala la lalalalalalala
Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
La lalalalalalala 🎶

Seven slow ghosts, walking in a line
Each with their shadow, each with their sign
Days pass like whispers, soft and undone
Until all the weeks blur into one

From Monday to Sunday (Lo-Fi Chill)

"Goosebump Center" marks Second Hand Noise's evolution into experimental trip hop territory.
Built around the concept of physical sensation as musical metaphor, this track layers slow motion type beats with textural electronics that seem to crawl under your skin.
The production emphasizes tactile qualities - every bass line feels like a pulse, every synth pad and arpeggios like a caress. Perfect for late-night playlists and atmospheric trip hop collections.

Goosebump Center

🌌✨ Rasakan alunan slow beat yang bikin baper tapi tetep elegan! 🎶
Helo4D DJ Slow Viral 2025 – sentuhan nada yang nyentuh hati, siap nemenin malam kamu sampai pagi 🌙💛

Helo4d dj slow viral terbaru 2025

"HEART" is a soft, romantic, emotionally driven, and meant to make people fall in love ya diggggggggg.

J MAJOR

HEART

HEART (prod. whoisjax?)

☕ The official anthem for professional procrastinators.
A dreamy bedroom-pop track for everyone who spends the whole day “preparing to work” — 20 tabs open, 3 cups of coffee down, printer “mysteriously broken”… and then BOOM! Productivity hits at 16:00 sharp. 🕓✨

Laid-back lo-fi synths, soft guitars, and sleepy vocals paint the perfect soundtrack for your office daydreams — until the boss walks in and suddenly you’re a superhero on caffeine. Think zen mornings, guru vibes, Instagram breaks… and a full-blown bureaucratic rodeo five minutes before going home.

If you’ve ever said, “I work better under pressure” while scrolling memes at lunch… this one’s for you. 😎

🎧 Perfect for:

Fake productivity
Keyboard sweating
Surviving corporate chaos
Pretending you’ve been busy all day

Lyrics:

Neun Uhr früh, ich bin schon da
Doch erstmal Kaffee, ist doch klar
Zwanzig Tabs, doch nix passiert
Der Drucker spinnt, das ist mein Schild

Kurze Pause, Insta-Check
Kollege sagt: „Stress?“ – Ich sag: „Nee, alles easy, echt!“
Doch die Uhr tickt gnadenlos
Und plötzlich wird der Atem groß


16 Uhr, das Herz schlägt schnell
Chef schaut rein, es wird offiziell
Von Null auf Hundert, kein Zurück
Jetzt zeigt der Faule wahres Glück

Am Ende des Tages wird der Faule fleißig
Die Welt ist verrückt, alles gleichzeitig
Den ganzen Tag nix, doch jetzt bin ich dabei
Am Ende des Tages – Büro-Rodeo, oh wei!

Mails wie Lawinen, Excel explodiert
Ich schwitz’ auf der Tastatur, nichts kapiert
Kollegin fragt: „Warum jetzt so schnell?“
Ich sag: „Feierabend, das ist mein Quell!“

Morgens Guru, mittags Zen,
doch ab halb fünf bin ich Superman
Kaffee drei, Energie zehn
Produktiv? Man muss mich seh’n!

Am Ende des Tages wird der Faule fleißig
Die Welt ist verrückt, alles gleichzeitig
Den ganzen Tag nix, doch jetzt bin ich dabei
Am Ende des Tages – Büro-Rodeo, oh wei!

Chef denkt, ich hätt’s drauf
Doch ich pack schon die Tasche
Morgen dasselbe Spiel
Und wieder ganz ohne Hatz… bis kurz vor Schluss.

Am Ende des Tages

Ever bought a one-way ticket to nowhere… blindfolded?
Yeah, this track feels exactly like that. Imagine:
You buckle up, no map, no control, turbulence on repeat — and life hits you with a lo-fi synth slap to the face. One moment you’re floating above the clouds, the next you’re questioning every decision since you downloaded TikTok in 2018.

This is chillwave but slightly unhinged:
dreamy pads, punchy beats, and a vibe somewhere between “I’m totally relaxed” and “the captain just announced we lost both engines, but the bass is fire.”

Put your headphones on.
Close your eyes.
Let fate DJ your life. 🎧

Unknown Landing

Somewhere between a melted ice cream on a Split boardwalk and a late-night neon boat party in Dubrovnik, this track happened.
It’s not a song. It’s a 3-minute Adriatic daydream — salt on your skin, warm wind in your hair, and just enough questionable life choices to make it feel like summer forever.

You’ll hear:
🌊 Golden tides kissing velvet nights
💫 Neon waves that breathe when you don’t
💃 Hearts colliding somewhere between “don’t” and “do it”
🚤 And yes, just the right amount of Croatian chaos

Put on your sunglasses, turn the volume up, and let the skyline vibrations do the rest.
Warning: may cause sudden urges to book a one-way ticket to Zadar.

Lyrics:

Golden tides, Adriatic dreams,
Neon waves where the night still breathes,
Drifting slow, salt upon my skin,
Every sound is pulling me in…

Hearts collide — a little temptation,
Lights ignite my fascination,
Lost in time, no hesitation,
Falling deep in Croatian creations…

Croatian creations,
Skyline vibrations,
Hearts in rotation,
Sweet fascination…

Croatian creations,
Endless sensations,
Ocean temptation,
Pure elevation…

Velvet nights, city lights below,
Quiet whispers where the soft winds blow,
Crashing beats under silver skies,
Every breath feels electrified.

Lost in the heat, we move like waves,
Chasing the sound that the ocean plays,
Every step’s a soft temptation…
Every touch — new creation…

Croatian creations,
Skyline vibrations,
Hearts in rotation,
Sweet fascination…

Croatian Creations

“I’ve Been Drowning in Deep Waters” captures the raw struggle of holding on when life pulls you under. The song paints a vivid picture of vulnerability—balancing between survival and surrender, safety and loss. Its lyrics evoke a haunting imagery of floating on love’s fragile strength while unseen depths whisper truths and fears. With an atmospheric tone, it blends emotional weight and poetic reflection, resonating with anyone who has fought to stay afloat in uncertainty. Both tender and powerful, the track embodies resilience in the face of overwhelming tides, leaving listeners immersed in its emotional current.

Deep waters

Написав цю пісню, коли зрозумів, що любов може стати холод. Це пісня про почуття, які вже не гріють, але досі живуть у пам’яті.

Холод

Versão Bootleg remix RNB da música Sexual Healing (cover by Tony Lucca)

DJ LowRider - Sexual Healing 2025

“I Don’t Need to Know” is a slow, atmospheric bedroom beat wrapped in neon shadows and gentle intimacy. It’s the story of reaching out to someone who just needs to be held, no questions, no judgment, just warmth. Like a quiet embrace in a futuristic cityscape, the track blends chill, lo-fi R&B vibes with a cinematic, Blade Runner–inspired atmosphere. Smooth vocals whisper lines like “come here, I don’t need to know his name, just let me hold you,” capturing a love that transcends labels and lives in the moment. Both tender and futuristic, this is a song for late nights, rain on the window, and a connection that feels untouchable yet real.

I Don’t Need To Know

🌊✨ Lies never sounded this smooth. This track drifts in like a summer wave, whispering sweet nothings in your ear—only to reveal they’re about as real as your neighbor’s “lottery win” or your classmate’s “beauty queen bride.” Grocery-store heartbreaks, broke jackpots, and pageant crowns from the past all float through shimmering synths and lazy beats, until you realize: it’s all just fantasy.

Perfect for late-night drives, neon sunsets, or when you need a soundtrack to roll your eyes at the drama of everyday fibs. Put it on, lean back, and let the vibe remind you that cheap words may fade, but good music carries you.

Lyrics:

She said she loves me, and there is only me,
Whispered sweet promises, like waves upon the sea.
But a few days later, what did I see?
Her kissing another man, behind the grocery.

So it turned out to be, only fantasy.
Cheap little words, but they never carried me.
So it turned out to be, only fantasy —
Painted-up tales with no reality.

My neighbor told me, with a sparkle in his eye,
He won the big jackpot, man, he touched the sky.
But the very next week, he’s knocking on my door,
“Could you lend me some money? I’m a little bit poor...”

So it turned out to be, only fantasy.
Cheap little words, but they never carried me.
So it turned out to be, only fantasy —
Painted-up tales with no reality.

An old classmate found me, on a late night street,
Said he married a beauty queen, the world at his feet.
But when she came ‘round the corner, truth hit me fast,
Let’s just say the pageant crown was stuck in the past...

So it turned out to be, only fantasy.
Cheap little words, but they never carried me.
So it turned out to be, only fantasy —
Painted-up tales with no reality.

Stories we tell, to shine a little more,
But when the mask slips, we’ve all heard it before.
Truth is a mirror, lies crack it apart,
Every cheap story leaves a scar on the heart.

And now I tell you, with a wink and a smile,
This song’s number one in the U.S. in a while.
But when the charts are out, and you look for me —
Well, guess what, friends? It’s pure fantasy...

So it turned out to be, only fantasy.
Cheap little words, but they never carried me.
So it turned out to be, only fantasy —
Painted-up tales with no reality.

Fantasy (Chillwave Version)

Ever had a day so boring it deserved its own soundtrack? Well, here it is: “Dull Dull Days” — the anthem for overworked souls, messy desks, and that suspicious can of tuna you ate because lunch options were a myth.

This song captures the tragic beauty of waiting for 5 o’clock, only to realize you’ve got three pointless meetings left, a bus that’s late, and coffee that tastes like existential dread. It’s not sad enough to make you cry, but it’s dull enough to make you question the invention of Mondays.

Think of it as your daily survival kit: part sarcastic lullaby, part office horror story, and part “yes, tomorrow will be just as bad.” Play it loud, hum it under your breath while staring at Excel, or use it as the official theme song for your next existential coffee break.

Warning: Listening may cause sudden sighs, sarcastic head nodding, and the uncontrollable urge to file vacation days.

Lyrics:

Heavy clouds in the sky,
Dragging hours, my oh my.
Work is endless, nothing won,
Desk’s a mess, the day’s not done.

Appointments waiting after five,
No time to eat, just to survive.
Lie in bed, but sleep won’t stay,
Another dull day’s on its way.

Dull Dull Days — passing me by,
Dull Dull Days — too dull to make me cry.
Dull Dull Days — a clock with no sound,
Dull Dull Days — no fun can be found. 

Morning hits with tired eyes,
Same routine, no surprise.
Coffee bitter, buses late,
Every minute feels like fate.

Meetings drone, the phone won’t stop,
Every task’s a mountain top.
And still I know when night is through,
Tomorrow waits — dull day renewed.

Dull Dull Days — passing me by,
Dull Dull Days — too dull to make me cry.
Dull Dull Days — a clock with no sound,
Dull Dull Days — no fun can be found. 

Think of tomorrow, it gets worse,
Every dull day repeats the curse.
One by one, they line in rows,
Endless march — and on it goes.

Dull Dull Days — passing me by,
Dull Dull Days — too dull to make me cry.
Dull Dull Days — a clock with no sound,
Dull Dull Days — no fun can be found.

Dull Days

the same vibe as a half-empty plastic coffee cup forgotten at the station. October drizzle? Check. Blank stares? Double check. A tram that arrives just to remind you nothing exciting ever does? Triple check.

This track is chillwave for the soul that’s too tired to rebel but still wants a synth pad hug. It’s your weekly appointment with existential public transport: grey skies, wet shoes, and the faint hope the next stop might actually mean something (spoiler: it doesn’t).

So plug in your headphones, scroll Telegram like it matters, and let the reverb do the only waiting worth doing.

Lyrics:

Pointless Wednesday, empty street,
October’s rain beneath my feet.
Crowds pretend they’ve somewhere to go,
But every timetable runs on slow.

Empty rails, October rain,
We all arrive, but none remain.
Pointless Wednesday, same old scene,
The tram comes by — we’re still unseen.

Wednesday silence, bitter air,
Eyes are heavy, no one cares.
We wait for life, we wait for steel,
But nothing waits for us to feel.

Empty rails, October rain,
We all arrive, but none remain.
Pointless Wednesday, same old scene,
The tram comes by — we’re still unseen.

Every Wednesday feels the same,
Another number, another name.
The tram arrives, the doors unfold,
But joy steps off, and leaves us cold.

Empty rails, October rain,
We all arrive, but none remain.
Pointless Wednesday, grey and thin,
We wait, we ride, but never win.

Wednesday

Ever waited for a train in the middle of October fog, only to realize your real crisis isn’t the delay but the lack of vowels on the station sign? 🫠 This is that moment turned into chillwave: ghost-trains, trembling rails, and a narrator who’s on his knees not for love, but for A, E, I, O, U.

It’s a misty slow-motion dream where vowels are contraband, consonants clatter like empty carriages, and the station announcer sounds like a deadpan Kafka character. “Ladies and gentlemen, all vowels have been suspended indefinitely” — and somehow you’re still scrolling Telegram.

Think Twin Peaks meets Wheel of Fortune in a night train with no destination. This track isn’t just about missing letters; it’s about the absurd poetry of losing the little things that make life sing. Chill, weird, melancholy — but funny enough to make you whisper “Lalala — give me my ‘A’” in public transport.

Lyrics:

I stand in the fog, platform of despair,
Steel bones trembling, October air.
But what haunts me most — not death, not time,
It’s a word with no vowels, an unholy crime.

No way forward, no way back,
A consonant curse on a broken track.
People fear ghosts, I fear the sign —
A skeleton name with no vowel inside.

Oh please, I beg you please — give me vowels, I ask you on my knees.
A, E, I, O, U — I’d even pay a fee,
Without your song I’ll never be free. 

A nameless station in the middle of night,
But I only complain the spelling ain’t right.
I don’t pray for love, I don’t pray for light,
I just want an “E” to make it polite.

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to technical difficulties,
All vowels have been suspended indefinitely.
Please form an orderly line at the KRC station.”

Lalala — give me my “A”
Ooh ooh ooh — I need my “U”
Echoes ring, but none reply,
A vowelless world where hope will die.

Oh please, I beg you please — give me vowels, I ask you on my knees.
A, E, I, O, U — come back to me,
Without your sound, I’ll never be free.

Vowels

Ever wonder what would happen if existential dread and a weighted blanket dropped a chillwave EP together? 🛏️✨

This track is what your alarm clock hears right before you hit snooze for the 17th time. It’s lo-fi melancholy wrapped in 400-thread-count sheets, humming softly, “Not today, capitalism.” 💤

“The Light Leaks In” is that sacred moment between giving up and ordering coffee — when you realize your T-shirt from yesterday has officially achieved sentience and smells like nostalgia mixed with despair and a hint of fabric softener. ☕👕

It’s not sadness. It’s horizontal reflection.
It’s not laziness. It’s emotional minimalism.
And it’s not death. It’s extended buffering. 🌀

So light a candle, stare at your ceiling, and tell your pillow all your secrets.
Because sometimes the most productive thing you can do… is absolutely nothing.

Lyrics:

The light leaks in through broken blinds,
Another day I’ll leave behind.
My clock still ticks but I don’t care,
The room’s too quiet, thick with air.

I see my shirt from yesterday,
Still on the chair, won’t go away.
It smells like dust and small goodbyes,
Like someone else’s tired eyes.

Stay… stay…
Let the world just fade away.
Stay… stay…
I’m not leaving anyway.

Outside the cars keep rolling by,
Each one another alibi.
I should be one, I should be gone,
But I’ve forgotten how to dawn.

The pillow knows my every breath,
It hums the rhythm close to death.
And if the ceiling starts to pray,
I’ll tell it softly: not today.

Stay… stay…
Let the world just fade away.
Stay… stay…
I’m not leaving anyway.

No plans, no calls, no borrowed time,
Just heartbeat echoes out of rhyme.
I’m not depressed, I’ve just delayed —
The end feels warm, the bed well-made.

Stay… stay…
Let the noise dissolve to grey.
Stay… stay…
Nothing left to give away.

Stay

Second Hand Noise is the electronic exploration of Melvin Medina, a Puerto Rican artist whose musical DNA carries equal parts rock attitude and electronic soul. As synth player for nu metal act Vialterna and electro rock band Celestina Robot, Medina has made his mark on the island's music scene when the song Extasis became the main theme for cult film "12 Horas” while Vialterna opened for Anthrax , Sugar Ray and Latin thrash legends Puya .

Raised on Depeche Mode, Duran Duran, a-ha , Pet Shop Boys, Nine Inch Nails, Medina is a rock & roller who loves electronic music and vice versa. Later influences like The Chemical Brothers, Roni Size , Soulwax , LCD Soundsystem, Four Tet , shaped his vision of unpredictable, emotional electronic music.
Second Hand Noise creates music that transports listeners to familiar yet surprising places, serving as an instrument of joy, reflection, dance, and unity. Working from his Puerto Rican studio with analog synths and Arturia's V Collection, Medina explores 432Hz tuning alongside textural soundscapes. Starting with the contemplative "Into Coherence" (mixed by Orlando Mendez (Circo and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri ) the project will evolve toward indie dance territory. With an EP in development and collaborations planned, Second Hand Noise represents both personal exploration and community connection. This is electronic music with purpose - designed to move bodies, touch hearts, and occasionally blow minds.

Official Soundcloud of Composer / songwriter

Multi Genre artist, I believe in music is a creation of feelings and this can be expressed in many forms or styles.
R&B/Soul
Rap&Hiphop
Reggae/Dancehall
If you connect with my sound, please like, share, subscribe, and join me on this musical journey.
Follow me at - 
Spotify - https://artists.spotify.com/shippydude28

Cognix (Steve)—nephew of Hollywoods Little Ricky of I Love Lucy a professional musician and cousin to a former Atlanta Hawks cheerleader—is a combat veteran and prolific author of over 17 books, whose life story reads like a modern epic. He earned his stripes and served with distinction, Steve transitioned to civilian life with the same drive and precision.

By day, he writes code—designing custom software tools that blend efficiency with creativity. By night, he crafts immersive audio experiences under his artist name Cognix. His music draws on up to 30 layers of real custom samples, real world field recordings-from orca calls to distant storm rolls—woven together in chaotically rhythmic cadences that mirror nature’s own intelligence and teamwork. 

A proud father and devoted friend, Steve survived a near‑fatal encounter overseas that deepened his belief in art’s transformative power. When he isn’t serving others, sketching track designs, or working on his next book, you’ll find him in his apartment  sampling the world around him—blending forest rain, ocean swells, and urban hum into futuristic soundscapes.

Support Cognix and become part of the journey. Your contribution helps fuel independent creativity — from upgrading equipment to producing more powerful, meaningful music. Every bit of support isn’t just appreciated — it creates real impact. When you invest in an artist, you’re helping shape the future of sound, one track at a time. Thank you for being part of something lasting.

Cognix’s work stands at the intersection of heritage and innovation: carrying his family’s creative spark into every beat, every line of code, and every story he tells.

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!

New tracks tagged #slowvibes