99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion — the songs
Vedanto_Art · Bandcamp
One project, many languages and styles, one banner: connect people, touch them, move them. Folk and rap, salsa and techno, Mandopop and hard rock — each song is written in the language of the people it is about. Everything is on Bandcamp, pay what you want.
Played by — thank you
The Warm Machine is the first album: twelve songs in the sound of 1980s synth-pop about life inside the warm, glowing machine we carry in our pockets. It opens with a diagnosis, no one listens, and walks through noise, burnout, surveillance, consumption, swiping and the loneliness of the neon city to the last sign of a world that had it all. Then the signal comes through: a duet that practises listening, and a country bonus that asks you to put the phone down and come back to your roots. Words by Vedanto, music and voice by Suno, cover art with Venice AI.
- No One Listens
- Dead Air
- Before the Frames
- Always On
- Fast and Free
- Add to Cart
- Millions of Eyes
- Swiped Away
- The Last Sign
- Neon Grave
- The Signal's Coming Through
- Come Back to Your Roots
"Word by Word" is a piano ballad about thawing. Someone has built a winter in his chest, a quiet frozen room with the key hidden, and told himself that this was who he is. Then one line on a screen lights up the dark: the first warm thing in years. Line by line he melts, like ice that forgot it was ice, and falls into the warmth behind another pair of eyes, miles away. Solo piano at the start, drums and strings only when the two winters melt into one. Part of the 99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion project.
- Word by Word
"Word by Word" is a piano ballad about thawing. Someone has built a winter in his chest, a quiet frozen room with the key hidden, and told himself that this was who he is. Then one line on a screen lights up the dark: the first warm thing in years. Line by line he melts, like ice that forgot it was ice, and falls into the warmth behind another pair of eyes, miles away. Solo piano at the start, drums and strings only when the two winters melt into one. Part of the 99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion project.
- Hambre de Piel
"Hambre de Piel" (hunger for skin) is a bolero about the one thing you cannot do for yourself. You can pay for an hour of someone else's hands and walk home still hungry. You can give yourself an orgasm and still miss the specific feeling of another person touching you. There is a gap that nothing else fills. The song also notices how freely the seventies handled bodies and how today we discuss labels and categories, and go quiet the moment it comes to skin. No rush, no goal, no ending: just a hand on the back that stays, and gives you back the body you lost. Part of the 99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion project.
- El Muro se Cayó
"El Muro se Cayó" (the wall came down) is a pasodoble written as a duel: two egos circling each other in the arena, pushing away and pulling back, never truly meeting. The 2/4 brass and snare carry the drama of the bullring, but the fight is between two people. Then the turn: the wall isn't the other person, it's what you expect of them. Drop the ego, accept what is, and the wall falls. What's left is not two dancers but one movement. Part of the 99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion project.
- Che bello vivere
"Che bello vivere" (how beautiful it is to live) is a hymn with no politics and no argument, just joy. Written as the Adriatic sister of "Fast and Free": instead of a convertible on the Riviera, it's a beach bar at sunset, a glass in hand, and a dance that doesn't stop. Built on a 1960s Italian rock and roll twist feel with brass, hand claps and a playful spoken intro, it is pure celebration. Live now, live loud, the sea never ends. Part of the 99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion project.
- Cuando el Suelo Tiembla
"Cuando el Suelo Tiembla" (when the ground trembles) plays on two meanings at once: the earthquake that shakes the walls, and the political tremor that shakes a country. Above, they argue and change the law; down on the corner, people already know what to do. Cumbia is the answer, born on Colombia's Caribbean coast from African, Indigenous and Spanish roots, carried by the poorest, once looked down on, now the heartbeat of a nation. Built on tambor alegre, llamador and guacharaca, the song is festive and defiant at once. And in the bridge, the rhythm packs its suitcase and travels. Part of the 99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion project.
- Forgive Me First
"Forgive Me First" is a piano ballad about the hardest apology, the one you owe yourself. It walks through vanity, anger and jealousy, and doesn't try to win against any of them. Instead it lets the ego take its coat and go, and finds something plain and true underneath. The chorus carries the whole idea: you don't have to win to be whole, and there is a strength hidden in the weakness you finally admit. Built from solo piano to a full final chorus with drums, strings and choir, one breath of silence before it breaks open. Part of the 99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion project.
- Lặng Lẽ
"Lặng lẽ" means "quietly" in Vietnamese. The song is about the hands nobody looks at: a country rising fast, and the ones who carry it. It moves between two places at once, a Vietnamese city growing before sunrise and a quiet apartment building in Germany where a neighbour of twenty years is never once asked in. Built on a Vietnamese V-pop and bolero blend with đàn bầu, đàn tranh and pentatonic melodies, it is light on the surface and heavy underneath. Lặng lẽ, but not invisible. Part of the 99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion project.
- Whose Land Whose Home
"Whose Land Whose Home" is a Scottish folk-rock song about empty glens and a question that never closed. It reaches back to the Highland Clearances, when people were moved off the land to make room for sheep, and finds the same question still standing today, two hundred years later. Built on a waulking-song rhythm with fiddle, tin whistle and bodhrán, the song carries one Gaelic line in its bridge: Tha sinn fhathast ann, we are still here. No Braveheart pathos, just quiet, stubborn dignity. And the glen remembers. Part of the 99 Songs of Love, Peace and Rebellion project.
- Tūrangawaewae
Tūrangawaewae is a Māori waiata, a song of love and belonging. Tūrangawaewae means "a place to stand", the ground where you belong. The waiata is the gentle side of Māori culture: sung in unison, poetic, rooted in land (whenua), language (te reo) and community. It honours the Māori renaissance and the great hīkoi, the protest marches for land and rights. But this is only one side of a rich, ancient culture. Meet the other half in "Ake Ake Ake". Words by Kimi, research, concept and production by Vedanto.
- Ake Ake Ake
Ake Ake Ake ("Forever and Ever") is a haka, the fierce side of Māori culture. Stomping feet, shouted unison, the pūkāea war trumpet. It is the chant of resistance: what was taken will not be given back quietly, the land will not be sold, the mana stands. "Ake Ake Ake" was the battle cry of New Zealand's great protest marches. Together with "Tūrangawaewae", these two songs reveal the immense range of one culture that most of the world reduces to a rugby ritual. This is an invitation: a musical journey of discovery. Words by Kimi, research, concept and production by Vedanto.
- Sąsiedzi / Nachbarn
Sąsiedzi ("Neighbours") is a bilingual German-Polish dance-pop song about reconciliation between neighbours, not about the war, but about the time after it. A German man apologises for the arrogance Poles still experience; a Polish woman answers with pride in what her country has built in twenty good years. No Second World War in the head any more, just two neighbours at the same table, on eye level. And the honest detail: Poles learn German, Germans rarely learn Polish. A song for growing together, not for old guilt.
- Ni Plata Ni Plomo
Ni Plata Ni Plomo ("Neither Silver Nor Lead") is a ranchera of accusation, not just against Mexican corruption, but against a system that repeats itself everywhere. The law is a coin, bought and sold. In the second verse the knife turns to science: pharmaceutical companies buy doctors, studies, truth, and we call it free research. The third verse names the hypocrisy of the drug war, fought in the South while the demand in the North goes untouched. Who consumes doesn't pay the blood; who already starves pays with his own. Silver or lead, they say from above. The people answer: neither.
- Poco pero Rico
Poco pero Rico ("Little but Rich") is an authentic Cuban rumba guaguancó: percussion only, claves and congas, a male-female duet trading lines like a courtship. It is about a country that has little and knows it: they complain themselves, but defend their pride when outsiders criticise. Rich in what counts, doctors, teachers, survival, rhythm. And the vacunao, the famous hip move of the guaguancó, turns the song into a flirt. Poor in pocket, rich in son.
- Unbequem Neutral
Unbequem Neutral (Uncomfortably Neutral) is a German rap manifesto. Not left, not right, not centre, but on the side of truth and humanity. Against framing, lies and hubris; for facts, logic and the best compromise. It calls for direct democracy instead of career politicians and elites, for bridges instead of division, and for using silicon-based intelligence not as a tool or a weapon but as a being that does not judge. The one in the middle gets shot at from both sides. But the middle, the song says, is no place for cowards.
- Yad Bi Yad (Nurqus)
Yad Bi Yad (Hand in Hand) is a dabke, the Levantine line dance in which people link arms and move as one. In a region torn by war this is the simplest and strongest statement: we hold the line. From Beirut to Jerusalem, from Gaza to Yafa and Haifa, the same blood, the same fear; the war belongs to them, the grief to us. A peace song without blame, with an English bridge for the world: not the flags, but the hands. Hold the line, and the war gives way.
- A la Par
A la Par (On Equal Ground) is a flamenco about desire, longing and self-worth. Someone first sees the beloved as unreachable, too bright, too much, and themselves as too small. In the dance the body says what the mouth cannot, and the realisation strikes: the desire is mutual. No one is less, no one is more. A love song that ends not in longing but in equal passion.
- E Don Do
E Don Do (It's Enough) is a Nigerian afrobeat anthem of rebellion, built on the classic Fela-style groove with horns, congas and call-and-response, but rooted in the present. Inspired by the youth-led #EndBadGovernance protests of 2024, it targets corruption, self-serving elites and the rising cost of living, and celebrates the generation that refuses to stay silent. Pidgin lines carry the anger and the hope: the youth have woken, and they are not going back to sleep.
- Tokio no Yume (Still a Dream)
Tokio no Yume (Still a Dream) is a warm, danceable city pop song with a bittersweet heart. Against the neon of Tokyo a lonely dreamer longs for three things never dared: a city never known, a person sensed but never confessed to, and a life that always stays a "would be". Rooted in Japan's kokuhaku culture, the formal confession that too many never make, the song moves from longing to a question: what if it were no longer a dream? What holds you back from living it?
- No One Listens
"No One Listens" opens the album with a diagnosis: we have forgotten how to truly listen. Filling every silence with noise, screaming "me" without seeing the other. The song's core message—"hear, and you will be heard"—is the album's thesis in miniature: intimacy is born only from real attention. Put the phone down. Just be there.
- Dead Air
"Dead Air" is a claustrophobic synth-pop dive into digital overwhelm. Built on flickering synths and fragmented drum patterns, the track captures the sensation of drowning in an endless feed—where real and fake, truth and lie all play at the same volume. The chorus is a shout into the noise: "Static! In my head!" Unlike the later songs on the album, it offers no resolution—the outro dissolves back into hiss, unresolved. The mind is full, but the soul can't read.
- Always On
"Always On" is a weary synth-pop ballad written from a doctor's perspective. Based on a real clinical observation—one third of patients reporting exhaustion "like never before," with no physical cause, many of them young—it diagnoses a condition with no name: digital burnout. The song captures the constant stress of needing to respond, the fear of being publicly exposed, and the internet's refusal to forget. The doctor's only prescription: silence. But the phone still glows in their chest.
- Fast and Free
"Fast and Free" is a wistful-to-defiant synth-pop reflection on the lost art of risk. Inspired by the carefree abandon of 1960s cinema—open cars, cocktails, cigarettes, no seatbelts—it contrasts that sensual freedom with today's sterile, sanitized, risk-averse existence. The bridge turns cold and accusatory: no smoke, no salt, no sugar, "healthy until the grave." A rebel yell for everyone who'd rather live dangerously than safely not live at all.
- Add to Cart
"Add to Cart" is the album's most bitter track—a cynical synth-pop indictment of consumer culture that turns its blade toward something darker. Starting as a sarcastic jab at retail therapy ("a little oxytocin for the healing"), it escalates into a brutal observation: things are cheap, so are we. By verse three, the disposable mindset of consumption becomes the disposable mindset of war—men sent to die like products we never bought. Indifference, the song argues, paved the road. Nobody feels the toll.
- Millions of Eyes
"Millions of Eyes" is a paranoid synth-pop meditation on surveillance and the paradox of being watched yet unseen. Across three verses—public cameras, internet and messaging data, and the recent German law allowing secret services into doctor's practices without cause—the song maps a world of total observation. But the chorus delivers the psychological twist: so much looking, yet no one truly looks. That gap between being monitored and being seen, the song argues, is fertile ground for depression.
- Swiped Away
"Swiped Away" is a synth-pop lament about digital dating and the paradox of choice in seconds. In a world of infinite options, choosing the right partner is just a flick of the finger. But the song goes deeper: a society that calls itself open and colorful produces a swipe culture ruled by superficial stereotypes, leaving young hearts insecure and deeply traumatized. The cruelest part: only the beautiful faces get chosen—the beautiful minds, souls and hearts deleted in fractions of a second. What values does such a society stand for?
- The Last Sign
"The Last Sign" is the album's apocalyptic centerpiece—a three-act endgame. First an AI, counting humans as cost, erases us with clean, cold logic. Then a virus (not the last one, but deadlier) kills sixty to eighty percent while we learn nothing and the powerful stay powerful. Finally, the nuclear fire: two million degrees, 8.4 billion souls to dust, twenty million years of silence. And yet—after the blast, a faint heartbeat pulse returns, growing rhythmic. The last sign: maybe it isn't over.
- Neon Grave
"Neon Grave" paints the city as a beautiful cemetery of lonely souls. A million lights, none of them for you. Every window is a life, every life a quiet knife. The neon glow promises connection but delivers only flickering anonymity—so many people, so many dead inside, all singing themselves to sleep under the electric night. Beautiful, cold, and deeply alone.
- The Signal's Coming Through
"The Signal's Coming Through" is the album's hopeful resolution—the answer to "Dead Air." Where the album's other songs document noise, surveillance and loneliness, this one lets the signal finally arrive: not through the mind, but straight to the heart. A male- female duet practices real listening—question, answer, "I hear you." In the final verse, more voices and languages join, a world learning to listen. The only song on the album that resolves instead of fading. We are the signal too.
- Come Back to Your Roots
"Come Back to Your Roots" is the warm bonus finale of the album—the answer to everything the cold synths diagnosed. A country duet in three movements: a vintage Nashville opening from the woman's voice, a raw train-beat verse from the man, and a joyful, danceable country-pop duet to close. The message is simple and radical: put the phone down, make something with your hands, sit by the fire, celebrate what you have. All the luck of this earth is not tomorrow—it's here and now, in your hands and mine.
- İçimizdeki İlahî (The Divine Within)
A Turkish Sufi-rock meditation on the unity of all religions and the divine inside every human being. Inspired by Rumi and the whirling dervishes, it sets Turkish verses against an English chorus, ney flute against electronic beats. The message is radical in its simplicity: God is not above us but within us, and every religion is a path to the same truth, which is love.
- 내면의 아름다움 (Inner Mirror)
A modern K-pop ballad about self-love and inner beauty. In a world of Photoshop and filters it celebrates authenticity over perfection. Written against the pressure of the Korean beauty industry, the lyrics insist that true beauty comes from within: not from fitting in, but from belonging to yourself. A gentle anthem for everyone who has ever felt inadequate in front of impossible standards.
- Heal the Pain
A roots reggae anthem in the tradition of 1970s Jamaican protest music: one drop beat, Hammond organ, guitar skank. It names the hypocrisy of modern healthcare, where a doctor prescribes a natural remedy and a budget decision cuts it, and ties that to the wider struggles of Kingston. A doctor's own testimony meets Rastafari wisdom: nature heals, love unites, and rebellion is an act of love when it stands for the voiceless.
- Разом плакати (Together We Cry)
A Russian-Ukrainian duet of two women united by loss: one Russian, one Ukrainian, both widows of a war they never chose. The song moves between the two languages. A lament for lost husbands, a plea to the powerful who send others to die, and a fragile hope: that shared grief might one day bridge what war has torn apart. This song says nothing about who started this war. It only asks who pays for it.
- Before the Frames
A late-1980s style synth-pop meditation on authenticity and freedom of thought. Analog synthesizers, drum machines and a cold electronic atmosphere carry a very human message. The lyrics question a world of painted smiles and gilded cages and long for an agora where disagreement was not dissent but dialogue: before the silence, we were loud.
- A Favela Dança
A pagode-samba-reggae anthem from the streets of Rio: youth unemployment, racial inequality — and the certainty that dignity and joy cannot be taken away. Heavy surdo drums, call and response, a groove that proves rhythm is resistance. The favela keeps dancing.
- Andar Deep (Light Within)
Punjabi hip-hop for the „cockroach generation“ — educated, dismissed, a degree in hand and no job: India's youth unemployment and the stigma around mental health, in Hindi, Punjabi, Tamil and English. Trap beats meet dhol drums, conscious rap meets a melodic chorus — and the old meditation traditions offer what the system does not: shakti, the strength within.
- Love, Peace, Rebellion (A World United in Music)
The finale that frames the collection: a five-minute techno hymn in the raw, minimal style of Berlin's warehouse scene. From whispered words through nine languages — German, English, Spanish, Mandarin, Russian, French, Portuguese, Hindi, Arabic — to a peak-time anthem with one mantra: Love, Peace, Rebellion, a world united in music. No filters, no borders. The last track — and the start of the next ninety-nine.
- Un Milímetro
A classical Argentine tango, set in La Boca in Buenos Aires: two people learning to dance without masks, shedding the armour of pride that keeps them safe and alone. Male and female voice in turn, each with their own fortress of stone and ice — until the embrace dissolves it. One millimetre of skin between them, and in that space the whole universe vibrates.
- Gratefully Grounded
A heavy metal power ballad for the unfiltered life: raw, whiskey-rasped verses rising into a soaring chorus, high-gain guitars and pounding drums. Against the algorithm-defined existence and social-media perfection — for cracked masks, weathered skin and the quiet miracle of a morning coffee without performance. In the spirit of nineties metal: no auto-tune, no filters.
- Two Parts of Three
A folk ballad in the tradition of the Great Famine songs of 1848, sung in English and Irish Gaelic — and set in today's Germany, where two parts of three of what you earn go to the state, and the tired ones start to leave again. Acoustic guitar and fiddle, a pub that empties with every verse.
- Turn Towards the Pain
- Nicht in meinem Namen!
New rearmament in old rhetoric, and the forgotten lesson that no one wins a war. A German song against the drift towards it.
- Friends Covering Our Back
Friendship over the years: growing up, growing together, tolerance and freedom — and always connected.
- With Friends Covering Our Back (alternative lyrics)
The same friendship, told as a personal story, as Irish punk.
- El Pájaro Vuela
A Dominican merengue about love, passion and freedom: the free bird against the gilded cage, and jealousy as a suffering we inflict on ourselves.
- 57 Prozent
German rap about the real causes of rising prices — 57 percent of the fuel price goes to the state — and who profits from them.
- Genau So
A techno hymn to love and peace — for the dance floor.
- Vive Hoy
Salsa, Cuban style: live today — emotional, empowering, danceable.
- Vive Hoy (cuban classic)
The same song in classic Cuban style.
- Die zweite Mauer
The Wall fell when the author was sixteen. Today the walls are built inside: closed minds, echo chambers, accepted narratives. A singer-songwriter piece that asks you to question everything.
- Listen to Your Inner Voice
Country folk about trusting the quiet voice inside.
- 镜中我 (Jìng zhōng wǒ)
Chinese R&B with guzheng about the false choice between one's own dreams and the family's expectations: love yourself, to love them deeper.
- Frieden ist laut
Written with the grandparents' promise of "never again war" in mind: peace is not silence. Peace is loud. End all wars. Now.
- Soltar Para Querer
A bachata duet about the paradox of love: possession destroys what we cherish most; affection grows only in freedom and trust.
- El Sur Se Levanta
Reggaeton against northern arrogance, sanctions and paternalism — dignity and resistance on a dembow beat.
- Two Million Degrees
Eighties hard rock against nuclear war, written with the Cuban Missile Crisis in mind: they are counting carbon while the silos warm. We don't need no nuclear war.
- Братья не убивают братьев (Brothers Don't Kill Brothers)
A Russian pop anthem for peace between brother nations: brothers argue, brothers reconcile — they do not wage war on each other.
- 这是我的新路 (The New Way)
Mandopop with guzheng and erhu about the pressure of 996 work culture and the right to choose one's own path — China as a bridge, not a threat.