This sultry, female-led smooth jazz cut is all elegance with an edge. A smoky groove rides under velvet vocals, capturing that quiet tension of two strangers sharing an elevator ride — her dressed to kill, him cool and detached. The saxophone teases through verses like an unspoken thought, never overstepping, always in the mood.

When the chorus lands, it’s not about the music anymore — it’s about connection, hesitation, and the quiet hope for something more. It’s a midnight flicker, a breath held on the ride up.

This track is for anyone who’s ever caught feelings in a moment that never quite happened. Smooth, moody, and magnetic.

3rd Floor ( Feat. Steph G)

“Between Floors” floats in a cinematic limbo — like lingering in a moment that never quite lands. Driven by a subtle, pulsing groove and elevated by a wandering sax line, this track captures the essence of hesitation, curiosity, and quiet anticipation. It’s the calm between destinations, where every ding of the elevator feels like a decision waiting to be made. Perfect for dimly lit lounges or long night drives with nowhere in particular to go.

Between Floors

“8th Floor Ghost” drifts like a late-night whisper down an empty hotel corridor. The track opens with pulsing ambient textures that mimic flickering lights and distant elevator chimes, while the saxophone enters like a memory you can’t shake — soft, haunting, unresolved.

The melody floats in and out of focus, layered with electronic echoes and subtle glitch elements, as if the song itself is phasing between this world and the next. The beat is slow, deliberate, almost hesitant — like footsteps approaching but never arriving. It’s part dream, part déjà vu.

This track captures the feeling of regret wrapped in nostalgia, the kind of sorrow that lingers after the party’s long gone, when the music echoes in your head and you’re not sure if you ever really left.f

The Ghost on the 8th floor

When I was in sixth grade, a band director named Mike changed my life.
He took me under his wing and gave me the freedom to play—whatever I wanted, whenever I felt it. He didn’t just teach music; he unlocked creativity. He is world-class saxophonist and I have been chasing him for years.  Mike saw something in me and nurtured it. He let me explore, compose, and produce, long before I understood what that truly meant.

I owe my career to that spark he lit. This song is for him—and this entire album is a reflection of the influence, mentorship, and friendship he’s shared over the past 30 years.

Thank you, Mike.  This one's for you. 

Mike's Presidential Suite

“Lobby Lights” drifts in with a smooth, laid-back groove that instantly paints the picture of a dimly lit hotel lobby at midnight. The track blends mellow electric piano chords with soft, jazzy guitar licks and a buttery bassline that keeps everything grounded. Light percussion gives it a steady, unhurried rhythm, while subtle ambient textures add warmth and space. There’s a hint of nostalgia in the melody, like a quiet memory unfolding. It’s smooth jazz with a cinematic touch—perfect for late-night drives, classy lounges, or just zoning out with a glass of something strong.

Lobby Lights

Glass Walls, No View

That Aint Her

“Same Dirt, Same Boots” is a small-town anthem about where we come from and how we’re more alike than we are different. Some of us work all week just to afford a few hours with our friends.  Whether you’re tearing up a dance floor, raising a glass in a dive bar, or kicking up dust in a field, this one’s for you.

Same Dirt, Same Boots

Red Dress Relapse is about that one person — the one who knows exactly how to pull you back in, no matter how far you’ve come. We all have someone like that. You swear you’re done, you fight to move on, but then they walk in… and it’s like sobriety, healing, growth — none of it stands a chance. This song’s not just about addiction to a person — it’s about how love, lust, and pain can blur together when the past ain’t finished with you.

I wrote this because I’ve lived it.  I know I’m not the only one. For anyone who’s ever said, “I’m finally over it,” only to fall back when they least expected — this one’s for you.  Send this one to that person.  Let them know.

Red Dress Relapse

Washed-up rocker/music producer turned heartbreak troubadour.
I write and sing country and rock songs about love gone wrong and the weird stuff in between.  Still out here trying to find my voice—when I’m not busy pretending to be a smooth jazz saxophonist in my garage. 🎸🎷You can find the stuff under Topher Jones.

The Ghost on the 8th floor

Justice Jones

Related tracks