31 reloaded tracks from my latest monthly creations — an anthology of rock. From grunge, garage, and post-punk to prog, doom, emo rock, alt metal, and metalcore, each cut reimagines my originals with raw riffs, crushing drums, and anthemic hooks built for SoundCloud discovery and replay.

ROCK PRISM

I don’t care about the fame
Or the money, or my name
All the whispers that they say
Fade away, they fade away

My mind
It’s been a-hummin’, hummin’
I think it’s time for somethin’, somethin’

And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy

All the things that don’t exist
In the world, the universe
They don’t matter in the end
That’s a blessing, not a curse

My mind
It’s been a-hummin’, hummin’
I think it’s time for somethin’, somethin’

And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy

I’m not chasing what they chase
I just found my better place
I’m not running from the night
I’m just shining in the light

And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy

I'm just happy (Pure Rock reload)

You said something kind of sweet,
then typed it twice, that’s weird to me.
I saw your playlist, skipped a song,
now everything just feels too long.

Red flag? Maybe.
Blue light? Daily.

I block at the first thing I don’t like.
Don’t ask me why — it feels right.
Could be your tone, could be your face,
could be the way you write “ok”.
No fight, no talk, no sigh — just click.
My peace of mind is algorithmic.

You posted quotes at 2 a.m.,
I saw one twice — that’s where it ends.
No time to fix, no need to prove,
delete the thread, erase the move.

Soft heart? Maybe.
Hard rules? Daily.

I block at the first thing I don’t like.
Don’t ask me why — it feels right.
Could be your tone, could be your face,
could be the way you write “ok”.
No fight, no talk, no sigh — just click.
My peace of mind is algorithmic.

“People say I’m cold —
but warmth attracts bugs.”

I block at the first thing I don’t like.
It keeps my world clean, black and white.
No drama left, no fix to find.
You cross a line — I close the site.

Red flag? Maybe.
Blue light? Daily.
Soft heart? Maybe.
Hard rules? Daily.

I block at the first thing (Indie Rock reload)

I keep the volume low.
Your ghost still pings sometimes,

I scroll for warmth in plastic light,
each face repeats the same good night.
No blood, no pulse, just patterned waves,
we’re data ghosts pretending grace.

I feel your name behind the screen,
it fades before it ever breathes.

Touch me through my digital skin,
tell me I’m real before I log in.
Every feed’s a mirror, cracked but clean,
every thought recycled, machine to machine.
If I’m alive, it’s by design —
a loop that ends where I confide.

We dream in numbers, sleep in codes,
love translated into modes.
Your typing stops — that’s how I know
the algorithm let you go.

I see your shadow in the scroll,
too perfect to be whole.

Touch me through my digital skin,
tell me I’m real before I log in.
Every feed’s a mirror, cracked but clean,
every thought recycled, machine to machine.
If I’m alive, it’s by design —
a loop that ends where I confide.

We are the crowd,
we are the code.
Lonely together,
never alone.

Touch me through my digital skin,
tell me I’m real before I log in.
Erase the silence, fake the sin,
love me once before I begin.

The page refreshes,
and I’m gone again.


Digital skin (Alternative Rock reload)

People told me long ago,
The sea was still, the tides don’t flow.
I watched the waves and shook my head,
Can’t believe a word they said.
So I took my board and chased the sun,
Felt the pull and the ocean run.
Learned that truth comes rolling fast,
Once you leave the shore at last.

I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.
I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.
I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.
I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.

People told me long ago,
Dreams don’t last, they fade like foam.
Thought about it, smiled instead,
The ocean’s bigger than their heads.
Now I’m flying down that line,
Salt and sun and friends of mine.
Every wipeout, every spin,
Makes me wanna dive back in.

I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.
I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.
I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.
I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.

The sea keeps teaching what I missed,
Every wave’s a gentle twist.
Life’s a ride that never ends,
If you paddle hard, it bends again.

I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.
I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.
I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.
I love it now,
And I’ll love it ten years from now.

Sun goes down, but I don’t care,
Still feel the ocean in my hair.
People change, but somehow I,
Still love the sea, still love the sky.

I’ll love it ten years from now (Surf Rock reload)

“Come on! Turn it up!
Fire! Fire! Fire!”

Running through the Camden rain,
Fluorescent hearts and sugar pain.
Every shadow looks like sin,
Every light drags me back in.

Hold me close, I can’t come down.

Burning city, under the wire,
Midnight hearts ignite with fire.
Faster, louder — don’t let me go,
All my blood’s about to overflow.

Taxi smoke and radio lies,
Cheap perfume and heavy eyes.
You said love was built to crash,
Still I’m gunning through the ash.

Hold me close, I can’t come down.

Burning city, under the wire,
Midnight hearts ignite with fire.
Faster, louder — don’t let me go,
All my blood’s about to overflow.

“Fire in my chest, I can’t sleep,
Every promise cuts too deep.
Turn me up until I fade,
I’m the spark you never made.”

Burning city, under the wire,
Midnight hearts ignite with fire.
Faster, louder — don’t let me go,
All my blood’s about to overflow.

“Burning city! Burning city!”


About to overflow (Brit Rock reload)

Drums of Mali shake the ground,
Voices rise, a circling sound.
Kora strings and dust and heat,
Old souls move on tireless feet.

Up the mountains cold and wide,
Caucasus winds on fiddle slide.
Wine and thunder, fire and clay,
Echo songs that never fade.

Every border hums the same,
Different tongues, a single flame.

From the Andes to the desert plain,
Folk keeps calling through the rain.
No empire owns that song,
It’s been here all along.

Gypsy strings in Balkan bars,
Oud and darbuka under stars.
Samba feet and desert cry,
Markets hum, the flutes reply.

From the steppes the voices roll,
Throat and sky become one soul.
Erhu bends the morning light,
Stories bloom from sleepless night.

Every border hums the same,
Different tongues, a single flame.

From the Andes to the desert plain,
Folk keeps calling through the rain.
No empire owns that song,
It’s been here all along.

Oud, kora, charango, shamisen,
Balalaika, rabab, cajón again.
One heartbeat, north to south,
Every story from every mouth.

From the Andes to the desert plain,
Folk keeps calling through the rain.
No empire owns that song,
It’s been here all along.

No flag, no crown, no claim —
Folk is the earth, it has no name.

No empire owns that song (Folk Rock reload)

For ten days I'm in RELOAD mode, reworking all my creations from the past twenty days and transforming them into a different musical universe
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.

About to overflow (Brit Rock reload)

Terminalose