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Damn, I wish I were...
Melly Rich
Verified Artist
Melly Rich
Melly Rich, born to a Lebanese family in Amsterdam, grew up surrounded by two worlds: the culinary brilliance of her father, Chef Khaled Rich, and the rich cultural heritage of the Middle East. Her father is the head chef of La Maison des Délices, one of France’s most prestigious Michelin-starred restaurants, known for its fusion of French and Middle Eastern flavors. Despite her father's fame in the culinary world, Melly's passion led her down a different path.
Though her family assumed she would follow in her father’s footsteps, Melly was captivated by music from a young age. With her father’s full support, she began singing, though her formal education took her into the world of architecture at the University of Amsterdam.
Balancing her studies with her love for music, Melly began to develop a unique sound, blending her Middle Eastern roots with the vibrant energy of Western pop. Her breakthrough single, "Damn, I Wish I Were in Istanbul", captures this fusion perfectly. The song carries hints of oud and traditional Arabic rhythms, interwoven with modern pop beats, creating a bridge between two worlds. It’s not just a catchy tune—it’s a love letter to her cultural identity, filled with nostalgia for the warmth and chaos of the Middle East, while reflecting her cosmopolitan life in Europe.
The song quickly gained attention, especially for its atmospheric vibes that pull listeners into a dreamlike vision of Istanbul, with its bustling bazaars and shimmering Bosphorus views.
Melly's ability to infuse her music with Middle Eastern influences sets her apart in the global music scene, and though she’s still juggling her architectural studies, there’s no doubt that music is where her heart truly lies. With the world now watching, Melly Rich is on her way to becoming an international sensation, blending cultures and genres like her father blends flavors at his famous restaurant.
Damn, I wish I were in Istanbul
Melly Rich
"Ah the stories I've heard the sights I dream about"
"Damn I wish I were in Istanbul"
Streets alive with tales untold whispers in the air
Bridges spanning ages old across the Bosphorus
Markets hum with vibrant hues scents that fill the soul
Dreams of Istanbul at dusk a city full of life
Golden sunsets glow
Memories yet to know
Damn I wish I were in Istanbul
Walking down those ancient roads
Damn I wish I were in Istanbul
Where the past and present flow
Minarets that pierce the sky calls to prayer at dawn
Boats that drift on gentle waves stories they have drawn
Lanterns light the evening streets casting shadows long
Istanbul a living dream where my heart belongs
Songs of old resound
In that mystic ground
Damn I wish I were in Istanbul
Living dreams that never fade
Golden sunsets glow
Memories yet to know
Damn I wish I were in Istanbul
Walking down those ancient roads
Damn I wish I were in Istanbul
Where the past and present flow
Damn I wish I were in Istanbul
Living dreams that never fade
CREDITS
Performer: Melly Rich
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Left the Light On
Nyvera
Verified Artist
Nyvera
Hailing from New York, Nyvera encapsulates the transformative power of music with a voice steeped in soulful resonance and a past rooted in the rich traditions of church choirs. With tracks like "Left the Light On," a gritty yet uplifting dance anthem, she blends her deep alto with slick house production elements, creating a sound that pays homage to her origins while exploring new secular territories. The song is a reflection on waiting and hope, echoing sentiments of bittersweet nostalgia through its whispering Rhodes loops and dusty string samples that evoke a warm, organic feel reminiscent of classic disco.
A few years into her career, Nyvera has built a dedicated following in the vibrant Amsterdam music scene, playing at venues like De School and collaborating with local producers on energetic tracks that inspire both dancing and introspection. Her catalog showcases an evolution where secular explorations retain the emotional depth of her roots. The analog warmth of her productions, filled with vinyl crackles and fat bass lines, invites listeners to lose themselves on the dance floor while connecting with the poignant stories woven into each melody. As she continues to tour and connect with fans, Nyvera’s journey reflects a commitment to authenticity and an unwavering belief in music’s ability to light the way forward.
Left the Light On
Nyvera
(I left the light on)
You said you'd call me when you landed
Two Novembers came and went
I stopped putting the good plates out
But I never moved the bed
It's not a promise it's a habit
It's not waiting it's just how I live
I left the light on
Not because I think you're coming
I left the light on
So I don't come home to nothing
And if that's you at the door one day
I won't pretend I didn't hope
But I left the light on for me
Not for you
(left it on left it on)
Your mother still sends me a birthday card
I still write her back in June
Some people don't leave all at once
They leave a room at a time
I left the light on
Not because I think you're coming
I left the light on
So I don't come home to nothing
And if that's you at the door one day
I won't pretend I didn't hope
But I left the light on for me
Not for you
I'm not the girl who's holding out
I'm the one who's holding up
There's a difference and it took me
Every winter to learn it
I left the light on
Not because I think you're coming
I left the light on
So I don't come home to nothing
And if that's you at the door one day
I won't pretend I didn't hope
But I left the light on for me
Not for you
I left the light on for me
(left it on left it on)
CREDITS
Performer: Nyvera
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Velvet Circuits
Mara Vale
Verified Artist
Mara Vale
Mara Vale makes sleek night-drive pop with a disco pulse: live bass lines, clean rhythm guitar, warm strings, and hooks that feel lit by streetlights. Her songs balance playful movement with a bittersweet city glow, built for listeners who want groove, melody, and a little electricity under the skin.
Her sound sits between classic dance-floor craft and modern pop polish, with soulful female vocals carrying stories of late buses, rooftop coffee, open city windows, and small moments that suddenly feel cinematic. Mara Vale keeps the arrangements bright and human: tight drums, handclaps, piano stabs, and choruses designed to move without turning into a cliché.
Velvet Circuits
Mara Vale
I saw your name in the window light
spelled out backwards on a passing bus
city heat on a borrowed bike
and a little bit of trouble looking back at us
You had a laugh like a camera flash
gone too soon but it burned the room
I had a heart with a broken latch
swinging open to a silver moon
We don't need forever to feel electric
just a little voltage under the skin
You move like velvet circuits
turning all my lonely lights on again
If the night tries to sell us silence
we'll answer with a melody and grin
You move like velvet circuits
and I keep coming back to begin
Coffee cold on a rooftop stair
bassline leaking from a taxi door
You tied a ribbon in your midnight hair
said the future isn't hungry anymore
I was counting every exit sign
making maps out of ways to leave
Then you put your hand inside of mine
like a rhythm that remembered me
We don't need forever to feel electric
just a little voltage under the skin
You move like velvet circuits
turning all my lonely lights on again
If the night tries to sell us silence
we'll answer with a melody and grin
You move like velvet circuits
and I keep coming back to begin
All my static turns to motion
all my caution learns to shine
There's a pulse beneath the pavement
keeping perfect crooked time
We don't need forever to feel electric
just a little voltage under the skin
You move like velvet circuits
turning all my lonely lights on again
If the night tries to sell us silence
we'll answer with a melody and grin
You move like velvet circuits
and I keep coming back to begin
Velvet circuits in the crosswalk glow
Velvet circuits and the city knows
Velvet circuits when the morning spins
I keep coming back to begin
CREDITS
Performer: Mara Vale
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Margin of Error
Susan Hall
Verified Artist
Susan Hall
Susan Hall emerges from the vibrant backdrop of New York City, where late-night writing sessions fuel her introspective explorations into the human experience. Infusing elements of Lo-Fi, Pop, and Trip-Hop, Susan crafts soundscapes that oscillate between playful and melancholic. Her track "Margin of Error" encapsulates this duality, featuring smoky vocals layered over a pulsating sub-bass and ethereal Fender Rhodes chords. With a penchant for the poetic, her lyrics explore themes of longing and uncertainty, often wrapped in an enigmatic embrace that resonates deeply with listeners.
The sonic threads within her catalog weave together a compelling narrative, each track a reflection of her artistic identity marked by subtle contrasts. From the dark trip-hop influences that shape her beats to the epic yet intimate moods she conjures, Susan's music reveals a world where vulnerability meets resilience. With tracks like "Margin of Error," she invites audiences to navigate through the shadows of love and loss while offering an unexpected playfulness that lingers long after the last note fades.
Margin of Error
Susan Hall
You filed my name under maybe
Kept one hand near delete
Your sentences came pre-approved
Every promise wore a barcode
I read the terms across your face
A firm refusal dressed as grace
You kept my number off the page
Then called it love at your own rate
I learned the cost of being near
A private charge renewed each year
Your figures never could align
You changed the units every time
You took the sum removed the source
Then called the damage normal loss
Call me your margin of error
The number you round to zero
You kept me close to the ledger
But never part of the total
Call me your margin of error
Your almost your after your spare
I won’t be filed under maybe
I won’t be useful then erased
You wore affection like a pass
Valid until somebody asked
My place was marked with pencil lead
Easy to alter hard to read
You built a room from access codes
The door unlocked when you chose
I left the key beside your name
No final speech no claim to blame
Your figures never could align
You changed the units every time
You took the sum removed the source
Then called the damage normal loss
Call me your margin of error
The number you round to zero
You kept me close to the ledger
But never part of the total
Call me your margin of error
Your almost your after your spare
I won’t be filed under maybe
I won’t be useful then erased
I was never hard to measure
You preferred uncertain scales
A person turned to useful data
A pulse reduced to monthly sales
Now every digit has an owner
Every loss can state its cause
You can keep your perfect record
I have left your private laws
Call me your margin of error
The number you rounded to zero
You kept me close to the ledger
But never part of the total
Call me your margin of error
The flaw that refused to behave
Cross out the file marked as maybe
I won’t be useful then erased
Delete my name from your system
The error has learned its own weight
CREDITS
Performer: Susan Hall
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Etherslip
Celya Thorn
CREDITS
Performer: Celya Thorn
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Small Parts Of A Life
Minor Museum
Verified Artist
Minor Museum
Coming from the city renowned for its artistic heritage and atmospheric canals, Amsterdam's very own dance duo, Minor Museum, is stitching the 'dance' in windswept tulip dances. A peculiar mashup of a coding whizz and an astute accountant, their paths crossed in a city awash with creativity, where they started to craft their celebratory anthems.
These audacious lads prove there's a splash of quirkiness in everyone - even in number-crunching accountants and binary code aficionados. Plug into their latest riff on the dance genre, the vibrant tune 'Small Parts Of A Life', and it can't help but be a day brightener, providing that happy fix faster than a Dutchman can cycle into a headwind.
In the grand tradition of long summer days by the North Sea, their music fosters a joyful dynamism, reminiscent of the old city's vibrancy and hues at twilight. The Minor Museum experience is akin to taking a ride in a rickety Amsterdam canal boat - feel-good bobbing with a dash of exhilaration, minus the water sprays.
Allow the men of Minor Museum to reel you in; after all, what's life without those precious ‘small parts’ tracked through infectious beats? In the end, it's all about adding the grooves between the historical facts and tax returns, isn't it?
Small Parts Of A Life
Minor Museum
Small parts
Small parts
Of a life
I keep them
I lose them
I try
A room
A chair
A photograph there
A train
A face
A wrong suitcase
You said
Be careful
I said
Of what?
The door was open
The clock had stopped
I remember the street
But I don’t remember the name
I remember your coat
But I don’t remember the rain
Little things
Little signs
Little cuts
In the time
I was almost someone
I was almost fine
La-la-life
In small little pieces
La-la-life
It comes and it leaves us
Round and round
I go where the feeling goes
Up and down
Nobody really knows
La-la-life
In small little pieces
I lose myself
Then I repeat it
La-la-life
La-la-life
Small parts
Of a life
Small parts
Small parts
Small parts
Of a life
La-la-life
La-la-life
I repeat it
I repeat it
A call
No sound
A hotel downtown
A shirt
A lie
A very blue sky
You smiled
Too late
I missed my fate
The lift went up
I stayed at eight
I remember the song
But I don’t remember the band
I remember your mouth
But I don’t remember your hand
Little rooms
Little lights
Little debts
Little nights
I was almost happy
I was almost right
La-la-life
In small little pieces
La-la-life
It comes and it leaves us
Round and round
I go where the feeling goes
Up and down
Nobody really knows
La-la-life
In small little pieces
I lose myself
Then I repeat it
La-la-life
La-la-life
Small parts
Of a life
This is not sadness
This is inventory
One ticket
One number
One glass
One morning
This is not memory
This is machinery
I press play
I press stop
I press repeat
La-la-life
La-la-life
Small parts
Small parts
La-la-life
La-la-life
I repeat it
I repeat it
La-la-life
In small little pieces
La-la-life
It comes and it leaves us
Round and round
I go where the feeling goes
Up and down
Nobody really knows
La-la-life
In small little pieces
I lose myself
Then I repeat it
La-la-life
La-la-life
Small parts
Of a life
A room
A chair
A photograph there
Small parts
Small parts
Of a life
CREDITS
Performer: Minor Museum
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Neverland Exit
SYNR
CREDITS
Performer: SYNR
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Weightless Time
Orbiting Silence
Weightless Time
Orbiting Silence
The clock keeps ticking
But I don't feel a thing
Between the steps I take
I'm floating in-between
Weightless
Weightless time
You say we're here but where is that?
I feel the space expand
I don’t need an answer
Just let me understand
Weightless
Hold me in time
CREDITS
Performer: Orbiting Silence
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Linearity
The Last Exit Left
Linearity
The Last Exit Left
CREDITS
Performer: The Last Exit Left
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Try If You Can
The Fog Has Teeth
Try If You Can
The Fog Has Teeth
CREDITS
Performer: The Fog Has Teeth
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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Keep the Receipt, S...
Dust Motel
Verified Artist
Dust Motel
Dust Motel Static began with **Marisol “Mari” Vela**, a sharp-tongued singer and baritone guitarist raised between Tucson and a small border town where her mother ran a late-night diner. **Evan Rusk**, a quiet multi-instrumentalist and obsessive arranger from Bakersfield, had spent years repairing amplifiers, collecting discarded tape machines and writing instrumental cues for films that were never made. Mari became the face and voice of the project; Evan became the person who could turn one crooked guitar phrase into an entire record.
They met after Evan’s pickup broke down outside the diner during a summer dust storm. Mari noticed the long-scale guitar case in the truck bed, borrowed the instrument before offering any help and played the same four notes until Evan began tapping a rhythm against the counter. They spent the rest of the night recording into a battered portable machine beside the diner’s ice freezer. The resulting demo carried traffic noise, a loose refrigerator panel and an argument from the kitchen, but neither of them wanted to recreate it in a cleaner studio.
Their debut single, **“Keep the Receipt, Sweetheart,”** introduces their sound through Mari’s dry, teasing delivery, Evan’s tightly controlled rhythm section and a low melodic guitar that moves somewhere between desert noir and border-town rock. The song treats a dishonest apology like a badly fitted purchase, turning an uncomfortable conversation into a compact, playful hook. It is currently their only released track, but the duo have already made their intentions clear: Dust Motel Static prefer small details, crooked humour and memorable guitar lines over polished mythology.
Keep the Receipt, Sweetheart
Dust Motel
You parked across the hydrant
Like the law had gone to lunch
Brought six supermarket daisies
Held together with a rubber band
Said “I’ve been doing lots of thinking”
With the posture of a judge
Then set one careful “sorry”
On my counter still unopened
You pressed your palm against your chest
Like cameras filled the hall
I asked for one clean answer
You gave the director’s cut
Keep the receipt sweetheart
This apology runs small
It pinches where the truth should fit
And hangs loose everywhere else
Keep the receipt sweetheart
Take the whole display with you
You brought me something called “I’m sorry”
But the tag says “almost true”
Almost true almost true
Look at you improving
You said your phone had lost its manners
Your watch was running scared
Your friends had formed a committee
And voted you unprepared
Your mother took the witness stand
Your therapist was quoted
I asked “Did you sleep with her?”
You said “The wording feels loaded”
You lowered your voice an octave
That trick you save for court
I asked where you were Tuesday
You gave the weather report
Keep the receipt sweetheart
This apology runs small
It pinches where the truth should fit
And hangs loose everywhere else
Keep the receipt sweetheart
Take the whole display with you
You brought me something called “I’m sorry”
But the tag says “almost true”
No don’t kneel; the floor is clean
Don’t swear on anybody’s grave
Skip the trembling lower lip
You practiced beside the valet
I’m just taking inventory:
One key two names three hotel pens
You may keep the supermarket daisies
They’ve heard the whole defense
Keep the receipt sweetheart
This apology runs small
It pinches where the truth should fit
And hangs loose everywhere else
Keep the receipt sweetheart
Take your grand performance too
You brought me something called “I’m sorry”
But the tag says “almost true”
Almost true almost true
Look at you improving
“Need a bag?”
“No he came with one”
CREDITS
Performer: Dust Motel
Written by: filodyo.
Arranged & Produced by: filodyo / Hakan E.
Distribution: notFM — notfm.com
© 2026 filodyo. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance, and broadcasting prohibited.
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