Dive deep where daylight dies.

Shanties of the Nightmare Seas is a twisted voyage through the darkest corners of the ocean, where bioluminescence glows like warning signs and ancient horrors still stir below. From parasitic tongues and bone-crushing worms to krakens, sea angels, and bottom-feeding beasts, this 12-track collection blends haunting melodies with sea shanty grit and dream-fueled nightmares.

Inspired by true deep-sea monstrosities and surreal dreams, these songs aren't just about survival—they're about what survives after you’re gone.

Brought to you by Botany with Friends, this is the sea as you've never heard it before: hungry, haunting, and horrifyingly catchy.

Buy me

Reset My Body

Legs Like Towers

Motherships or Mother Scallops_

"The Single No One Asked For" is a chaotic collection of sharp wit, raw confessions, and tongue-in-cheek anthems. From the absurd energy of Poop Shoot Salad to the haunting weight of Routine Feels Like Death, every track swings between humor and heart. It’s part comedy, part catharsis, and fully unfiltered — the kind of album that makes you laugh, nod, and maybe question what playlist you just stumbled into.

Whether it’s riding shotgun with me the Uber Guy, getting lost in Frozen Waste, or shouting along to Domino Train Rollin, this release proves that even the tracks “no one asked for” might be the ones you need

These are the Tracks that didn't fit into my CD catalog. Someone told me to get off band camp, so I must be doing something right so heres more songs.

Leave Me Alone or Listen

All aboard the train that never really stops.
The Burnout Express drifts through fog, flame, and memory — thirteen stations of exhaustion, rediscovery, and motion disguised as peace. The wheels hum like heartbeats, the windows blur between dream and confession, and the rails never quite end where they began.

Each song is a fragment of travel and survival: ghosts in the reflection, fire in the distance, lullabies disguised as breakdowns.
By the final track, you realize the destination was never escape — it was the loop itself.

This is motion as meditation. Machinery as memory.
Every burnout leaves a spark.

Window Frequencies

Troy Aikins

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