From deep down in the swamps a band arises.

Catfish Crawl

No Space³

“Holding Your Hand” opens on a chilled soft-pop summer mood as a live band lays down a smooth and slightly funky instrumental groove. Soon a female vocalist steps to the mic. Amid a breezy scene of vaporwave synths and yacht rock vibes, she delivers a cool and dreamy meditation on the simple things in life

Holding Your Hand

No More Tears

Undependable

The shorts video reel for this song is at: youtube.com/shorts/gglbEgNw0Kc?si=FQFK7Tuf2iCNEPDL  and my postlude reel is at: https://www.tiktok.com/@ruckfameknuanual/video/7537640588095687943 This is a song I wrote and performed for my late mother, Prasasanee Chintavej Nuanual. It is my way of honoring her legacy as an amazing wife, mother, and human being. I also dedicate this song to all the amazing mothers out there in the world.

Free Download

Maman

◆ Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/intl-de/artist/0uCsYwbShOQuA5vh0xTp8G?si=rfOcUMOPQw6DDNjzWgFJ2A
◆ iTunes: music.apple.com/de/artist/ontheedge/1591622049
◆ Instagram: www.instagram.com/on.the.edge.music/
◆ Web: www.ontheedge-music.com/
◆ YouTube: www.youtube.com/@OnTheEdge-Music

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🎤 Vocals: Melissa Hollick


I’m done with this game I won’t keep playing
The fire is gone it’s not worth staying
Fighting battles I don’t believe in
What if peace is just not needing?

I’m done standing my ground through it all
But a little longer and I might (just) fall
The chains I once wore are giving in
Now the weight of this burden is lifting

I’m done with the noise, the need to please
I let go of those who brought me no peace
No more fake love I’m done with the act
I’ve found my truth and there’s no going back

Walls are coming down tonight
I let (it) go I'm done with the fight
I’m breaking free, I’m breaking free
This is who I'm meant to be

I'm Done

Where has my city gone?
Where is my trip in the sun?
Wait, should I have begun?
Got to leave where you're from?

Where is my fantasy?
Where is my hope for much more?
Take your false sliding doors.
I'll hold out for some more.

Out of the valley, alone, into hinterland frozen.
Oh, my arms are wide open.
My horizon is golden.
Off with my head.
As the sun passes over the trees.
I'll ride on the in breeze.
Keep my horizon free.

Where are my city streets?
Where is my blanket for cold?
One day I will be old.
And, I doubt that I'll know.

What can I say?
I'm just drifting around in the sea.
No ideas to seed.
In the absence of need.

Out of the valley, away, into hinterland broken.
All my alms for the poor.
My horizon is sure.
Off with my head.
Down the river; 
Flows on with the leas.
I'll ride on in the breeze.
Keep my horizon free.

Where is my chandelier?
Who'll meet my consumer needs?
An all consuming greed.
All replete with the weeds.

Where is my parquet floor?
What's a designer for?
Me?
Whilst a-wandering free.
I won't move from this tree.

Out of the valley below into hinterlands frozen.
Oh, my eyes are wide open.
My horizon is golden.
Out of my head, as the sun passes over the trees.
Riding on the in breeze.
My horizon is free.

Hinterland

This has the second-most drafts of anything I've done (eight) behind William Tell Should've Known, recently with 12 drafts.

This Male Hypergamy Stuff Is Hard

Just another day in the life of a humble dictator.
He's down on his luck because he's lost his adherents, then goes on a date, then goes to a party where his traitors absconded to and passes out.
(Maybe the new guy found out how fickle the monkeys were identically....)

Lyrics:

It's going to be a lovely day
I feel it coming to the fore
This Adderall tastes like people need
To get out of my way
In the grocery store

My mood is my decision
And my decisions are generally pretty dark
She was asking for a body count
While on a date with a dictator
And i said i'd write it down
Once i got the figures later

As the weather outside grew stormy
We were discussing the means with regards to the ends
And the general zeitgeist
Billionaire techno-wizard freaks are not your friends
Neither are the normies
But the normies aren't giving masterclasses on the Antichrist

And while she was in Gravesend
Getting a purge of her follicles
She didn't mean to mock
But Disturbing naturally formed alluviums 
Is Almost as diabolical
As someone kicking your xeriscaping rocks
All over the sidewalk

And she said
After taking a breath
Life's daily demands 
Are just now not the same
Remember the early two thousands
When beating demons to death
With your bare hands
Was still a fictional video game

She'd had enough talk of killing
After flicking a piece of ash
She was such a vicious kidder
And then i really had going
A throbbing of my brain
Plus that feeling when
You need cash so bad
You're willing to be the lowest bidder
In an adversary supply chain

Water isn't clear 
But it seems clear because it filtered
What it wasn't clear to 
Which you then didn't evolve to see
What wasn't clear about her
Was that she doesn't kilter
To what would appear to be
What i was involved in
Enough to unequivocally agree

I then went to someone else’s circus 
And all of my fucking monkeys were there
Playing a diabolical form
Of political musical chairs

I'd had far too much of our host's brew
And dozed off as he prattled his parvenu 
Far on into the night
And coming to
I found it hard to believe
The change in his face
With the advent of dawn
His espirit de corps, 
His joie de vivre, 
His coup de grace, 
His deja vu
Were all categorically gone

Not My Monkeys Not My Circus

asking for help

indie artist learning this music making thing
also on Spotify :)

asking for help

pennynail

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