Aspê

Intercity Blues

Earthquake

Kill Them with Love – Project Isolar

“Kill Them with Love” was born out of real life — from the everyday moments where people sometimes face harsh words, judgment, or even outright attacks. The idea came from one of my colleagues who would always say, “Kill them with love”, whenever we were met with anger or hostility in our professional roles.

But this message goes far beyond work. It’s about how we choose to face the world, every single day. When someone is rude, lashes out, or spreads negativity — there’s another way to respond: with love. With empathy. With warmth.

This song is a kind of resistance. A peaceful revolution. A musical manifesto to transform darkness into light.
We don’t fight hate with more hate — we defeat it with love.

Thank you for listening.
/Project Isolar

Kill them with love

M.I.A.S

In the Weekend

Prisoner

Rock song written, arranged & produced by John Hardman
John Hardman - Vocals, guitars, keys
(c)(p) 2025 Swamp music UK & Swamp Records UK for all territories

Is It Alright? - Beats Working

Ta 25ième heure, l'heure à laquelle tu décides de vivre ta passion.Lorsque l'on fait une activité qu'on aime le temps est toujours trop court et jamais assez long.

Your 25th hour, the time at which you decide to live your passion. When doing an activity that we like, the time is always too short and never long enough.

Ta 25e heure

Tu l'imagines
Mais tu plies l'échine… toujours!

Cet espoir de bonheur
Te reviens à chaque heure… à chaque heure.

(Mais tu te dis…)
Souvent trop longues
Jamais trop courtes
Peu importe elles s'écoulent

Tu rêves de cet instant
Pour traverser ces moments… plus librement.
Toutes ces journées à labourer
Pour construire ce paradis… tant souhaité.

(Mais tu te dis…)
Souvent trop longues
Jamais trop courtes
Peu importe elles s'écoulent s’écoulent s’écouleeeeent

Jamais trop longues
Souvent trop courtes
L'important c'est que tu t'écoutes
Voilà l'instant
Ici le moment
C’est l’heure
De ta 25e heure

Solo

Celle qui t'appartient
La réalisation de ton destin
L'instant de bonheur
Ta passion à toutes heures… à toutes heures

(Mais tu te dis…)
Jamais trop longues
Souvent trop courtes
L’important c’est que tu y touches
Le temps présent
Le temps constant
Voilà l'instant
Ici le moment
C’est l’heure
De ta 25e heure


Ta 25ième heure

Queen of Hell | Johnxox

Echoes of control

The Reckoning

This is a quiet, intimate piano ballad about the unexpected paths that life takes. It's about the acceptance that the life we live is often not the one we once planned—and that there is a unique and profound beauty in that deviation. The song explores the bittersweet wisdom found in hindsight, carried by a voice that is both fragile and resilient.

Musically and emotionally, this song is a deep and respectful homage to Joni Mitchell's masterpiece, "Both Sides, Now." It does not attempt to copy it, but to honor its spirit: the ability to express complex life truths in simple, poetic language. The raw, vulnerable performance is also inspired by the heartbreaking interpretation by Emilia Jones in the film "Coda."

A song for anyone who has learned to find the beauty in the scars of their own journey.

---

Dies ist eine leise, intime Piano-Ballade über die unerwarteten Wege, die das Leben nimmt. Es geht um die Akzeptanz, dass das Leben, das wir führen, oft nicht das ist, das wir einst geplant haben – und dass es in dieser Abweichung eine eigene, tiefe Schönheit gibt. Der Song erkundet die bittersüße Weisheit, die man im Rückblick findet, getragen von einer zerbrechlichen, aber standhaften Stimme.

Musikalisch und emotional ist dieser Song eine tiefe Verneigung vor Joni Mitchells Meisterwerk "Both Sides, Now". Er versucht nicht, es zu kopieren, sondern seinen Geist zu ehren: die Fähigkeit, komplexe Lebenswahrheiten in einfacher, poetischer Sprache auszudrücken. Die rohe, verletzliche Darbietung ist zudem inspiriert von der herzzerreißenden Interpretation durch Emilia Jones im Film "Coda".

Ein Song für alle, die gelernt haben, die Schönheit in den Narben des eigenen Lebensweges zu finden.

---

Credits:

Adelheide Vogt: Lead Vocals, Lyrics
Rosemarie Kowalski: Piano

---

Lyrics:

Maps can be drawn to show a distant shore... 
And open books all promise something more.  
Lines on a page for a life to be led...  
A different garden in a different bed.  
That's how the plans for futures often look... 
Before the first page... ...of the real book.

But looking at your life from both sides now,  
From what was lost and what the fates allow...
It's life's illusions I see you recall...  
You never really knew... 
...your life at all.

Words can be shields to teach and to write,  
To turn fading darkness to brilliant light...  
A legacy built on a victory loud,  
Your echo trapped in a cheering crowd. 
That's how the plans for greatness often feel...  
Before the wounds... that time won't let conceal.

But looking at your life from both sides now,  
From give and take, and still somehow...  
It's life's illusions you cling to, standing tall...  
Did you ever know... your life at all?

The child you were...
...would never understand 
This broken soil in a foreign land.  
She'd only see the things you had to lose... 
The simple choice... you didn't get to choose.

But she could never see his hand in yours...  
A different sun that opens different doors.  
No, this was not the life...
But it was yours...   
...and it was... 
grand.

A Different Garden In A Different Bed

Dark & atmospheric metal - feel the curse of Synevyr

The Curse of Synevyr

Giving Up on You

British Colonial invasion, land grab, exploitation, killing, enslavement and extraction of natural resources - all in the name of 'no one owned the land - it was there for the taking' bread a nation of 'Honest Traders'. Now the poor people fleeing persecution and war left in the wake of colonial empire - desperately try to find safety for their families are vilified by the rabbit right wing politicians and their press propaganda. - 'Another boat went under - witness to your plunder'. 

Honest Trader

music box - demo

Un viaggio strumentale tra rock e jazz, carico di groove, riff potenti e improvvisazione pura. Vibrazioni analogiche, energia viva.

O r g a n  D r i v e

I wasn't the storm
Wasn't the calm
Wasn't even the damn weather report
Just a line somebody skipped
while looking for the chorus

You kept a jar of sugar packets
from diners you don't remember
Me?
I was one of those
Sweet for a second
Then tossed in the glovebox
with expired maps and parking fines

I bought you soup when your sky cracked
You left me waiting on a Tuesday
A Tuesday, man?
The least poetic day of the week

You kept my jokes
but not my number
Told your friends
"she was... funny, I guess"
Hell of a eulogy

I was just a footnote for you
barely there, barely blue
Some flicker in the rearview
of a road you never meant to drive
Yeah...
I was just a footnote for you
But you?
You were a whole damn book for me

I made you pancakes once
You said you were allergic to mornings
And love
And me, apparently

You ever try deleting a voicemail
just so you don't memorize the silence at the end?
Yeah...
Me neither

I was just a footnote for you
just a scene that didn't test well
so they cut it in the final draft
But I kept your ghost in my guitar case
your laugh in the pocket of a coat I never wear
You were thunder
And I was...
a line break
Or less

You thought I was a footnote?
Baby, I'm the erratum
Printed loud
Page one
Right under your regrets

Just a Footnote

By pressing play
you agree to
1. Become a lifelong devotee of this artist
2. Stream everything, even the weird side projects
3. Comment: "Genius"
4. Buy vinyl
Even if you don't own a turntable
Especially if you don't own a turntable

You tapped the beat? That's binding
You laughed? That's proof of consent
By tapping your foot in a public place
you now owe me your attention
until my artistic phase ends
or I fake my death for press

No refunds
No complaints
No skipping the outro

Clause 7b: You will defend me in comment sections
Clause 9: You will quote me in arguments you barely understand
Clause 12: Your soul remains mine
in perpetuity
plus royalties

She ate the fries
He bought the fries
Boom - contract

Somewhere between ketchup
and that third laugh
she apparently co-signed
his entire fantasy

Her wrist brushed his wrist
now she's liable
for his unmet expectations
plus damages

Didn't read the menu?
Still binding
Smiled politely?
That's consent

These are the terms
These are the traps
You clicked "I agree"
without reading the map
No opt-out clause
No human review
By being polite
you said "I do"

Hired on a handshake
you just sold your Sundays
Your dreams?
They've been repurposed
for synergy

The job title said "Creative"
but it meant
"Copy, paste, obey"
You clock in?
You vanish
You breathe in cubicle gray

Your spine?
Company property
Your passion?
A performance metric

See Appendix D
for how to smile on Zoom
while crying on mute
See Section 19
on swallowing your rage
without leaving trace

These are the terms
These are the binds
You didn't negotiate
you were just being kind
Now your silence is debt
Your patience is proof
Your signature's inked
in the sweat of your youth

By hearing this
you acknowledge
All transactions are final
All expectations are assumed
All resistance
is a breach of contract

Thank you for your compliance!

Terms and Conditions

(part one of two songs)

part II: https://soundcloud.com/temple-of-the-haunted-man/gazing-at-lost-pictures

Pictures And Memories

SE IL NOME DELLA BAND PUO’ SEMBRARVI  STRANO SIETE LE PERSONE GIUSTE ,ESSO E’LA FUSIONE DÌ DUE PAROLE BEN DISTINTE YOGY, IL MAESTRO IL GURU LA MENTE MA NON IL BENE E YETY LA BESTIA L’ANIMALE  L’ISTINTO UMANO MA NON IL MALE QUINDI LA FUSIONE  TRA LA RAGIONE E L’ISTINTO ANIMALE CHE E’ IN NOI.

LA LORO STORIA E QUESTA:

CRESCIUTI A LOADSTONE SI ERANO CONOSCIUTI DOPO CHE IAN AVEVA MESSO UN INSERZIONE PER FORMARE QUELLA CHE POI SAREBBE DIVENUTA LA LORO CREATURA, SCRIVENDO SOLO COSI: ”CERCO MUSICISTI PER TROVARE IL SUONO PERDUTO ALLA RICERCA DEL IL SUONO PRIMORDIALE DEL VAGITO DEL MONDO E VOLEVANO FARLO ATTRAVERSO LA LORO MUSICA”.

“LASCIATE OGNI SPERANZA O VOI CHE’ ENTRATE… “ ….A LOADSTONE, PICCOLA CITTADINA AI PIEDI DELLA CITTA FANTASMA DÌ RHYIOLITE NEI PRESSI DÌ ZABRISKIE POINT NELLA VALLE DELLA MORTE, TUTTI LA CONOSCEVANO, MA PIU’ CHE UNA SALA PROVE QUELLA DÌ IAN,JIN, MARS, E COSMOS  SEMBRAVA UN LABORATORIO ALCHEMISONICO, PREGNANTE DÌ RELIQUIE ROCK RINVENUTE COME ARCHEOSONICI RICERCATORI INTENTI A SCOPRIRE  L’ORIGINE DEL SUONO, DEL SUONO AUREO PERFETTO, IL SUONO FILOSOFALE DOVE IL SUONO NON SI CREA NON SI DISTRUGGE MA TUTTO IL SUONO SI TRASFORMA, E TUTTO TRASFORMERA NEL CORSO DELLE LORO VITE.

Aspê

Yogyety