Brand new release 

out now

Hope you enjoy this project like i did making it

I Can See My Whole World Changing

Spotify

iateabee - I Can See My Whole World Changing (Radio Edit)***OUT NOW***

Welcome to my latest Mash UP of Young T & Bugzy Ft Aitch - Strike Me A Unforgettable Pose (DJ Lewis McCrrindle MashUp

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This is my own version of a very popular song which I personally have taken a liking to. Hope you like what you hear!

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Another edit from us to you.

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Young T & Bugzy Ft Aitch - Strike Me A Unforgettable Pose (DJ Lewis McCrindle MashUp)

Tried something new. Feel free to share your opinion!

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369 Girls Wanna Drink Whine

Old Man of the Woods is the ambient avant-pop project of Seattle-based artist Miranda Elliott. Alchemizing shit into sustenance, Elliott crafts intimate, entrancing songs under the alias of a private, prickly mushroom that survives by the same creed. “Each pop nugget is like a different landscape painting, textural and intriguing, with deeper meaning hidden behind the lush, beguiling surfaces" (Foxy Digitalis). Having toured her debut LP Votives & EPs Dissolve & Devolve across the Pacific Northwest and East Coast, she’s poised to release her second LP Tendrils this June. The first single, 'Anticipating', drops April 22nd.

Tendrils is a collection of devotionals, written at a yearning distance from their beloveds. It's the recognition of the vines that bind us to all we adore, at times only felt once they become taut, begin to quiver, reverberate, fray, snap, curl. And the realization that there will always be more, weeds crawling through cracks, for those who stay hungry.

Recorded while an artist in residence with Culterim Gallery at a lakeside abandoned sanatorium in Biesenthal, Germany, the album itself is preserved in amber. Any attempt to interfere once leaving erased some essential essence of the estate’s eerie serenity, forcing Elliott to choose peeling walls over perfection. Each room dense with memory, a century-old space intended for healing in isolation, for walks around the lake that Elliott too circled endlessly each day, pen in hand, one’s left to wonder whose tendrils she really writes of, or if we’re all entwined. 

Vesperal vocals echo from cracked windows and walls, coating the consumptive cathedral, forming an organic organ. Oozing oscillations transform studio into swamp. Damp footsteps haunt the halls, sometimes pacing, sometimes with purpose, demanding to be let in. Whispered truths lay waiting for whoever needs to hear them. With Old Man of the Woods, there’s always a breeze, a blush, an invitation to sway and engage, if you choose to accept.

-7AM IN THE MORNING-

Thomas McKeown

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