Call Me a Saint

ANIMAL / ANYWHERE BUT HERE

ANIMAL

GOOD ENEMY

EVERGREEN

TAKE MY NIRVANA

I DON’T WANNA DO THIS ANYMORE

PARTY ON MY DEATHBED

can we start over?

teeth

I Don't Like the Quiet

on the outside

Kissing Death

Oblivion for Two

Metropole Virus
They met beneath the city—beneath the clubs, beneath the gloss.

One was a dominatrix known only as Ryn Vanta, with a voice like crushed velvet and a taste for sonic pain. She ran a masked lounge in Frankfurt’s red-light shadows, where men paid for control and left broken by silence. The other, Nova Skeld, was a dancer turned data-runner in the Bahnhofsviertel, trafficking glances and synth packets across latex alleys and glitch-lit strip bars.

They collided at 4AM in a backroom booth—Nova mid-rush, Ryn mid-set—surrounded by pulsing strobes and bodies chasing chemical escape. No pleasantries. Just eye contact, and the mutual recognition of the kind of loneliness that sells out nightly but never cashes in.

That same week, Nova sampled Ryn’s whispered monologue and looped it through a trance beat tracked over CCTV hum. It hit like perfume and concrete. They locked themselves in a neon-stained studio above a brothel in Kabukicho and started turning trauma into sound.

What They Became
Genre: Dance/trance noir with industrial bruises and seductive decay

Aesthetic: Glitch lace, strobe seduction, cybernetic cabaret

Message: Pleasure is political. Music is memoir. Shame is currency.

Live Shows: Masked rituals. Intercut sex worker testimonials. Surveillance visuals. Strip-club hymns with synth breakdowns.

Walking Street

TAKE MY NIRVANA

PVRIS