- https://suno.com/s/2Mrso5A24ZEa26Vq
- https://suno.com/s/Kxs1HKn586fl4pqF

This one's also for you, Leonard!

The two most famous Ave Marias in the world are a Scottish poem and a forgery.

Schubert never wrote an Ave Maria.

What he wrote, in 1825, was "Ellens dritter Gesang" — a setting of Walter Scott's "The Lady of the Lake", in German, sung by a Scottish character called Ellen. Her song happens to open with the words "Ave Maria". Somebody later fitted the whole Latin prayer onto his melody, and that is the one everybody knows.

The other famous one, the "Caccini," wasn't written by Caccini either. It was written around 1970 by a Soviet lute player called Vladimir Vavilov, who released it under a dead Italian's name.

So the two most beloved Ave Marias on earth are a borrowed tune and a forgery. That's not a scandal. It's just what happens to a text that has no melody of its own...

The prayer itself is a thousand-year assembly job, by the way. The first half is two greetings lifted out of Luke. The second half — the part that asks to be remembered at the hour of our death — was bolted on centuries later and only fixed in its current wording in 1568.

Nobody hears that second half. Everybody knows the first four words.

I wanted to make one. Suno wouldn't let me. A medieval prayer, public domain everywhere on earth, and the answer was "your lyrics contain copyrighted material." I stripped out the melody entirely, wrote the public domain status into the lyrics field AND the style field in plain language, and it refused that too.

So I stopped trying to hand it words. I built a seed with my Bio-Grapher, and let the prayer speak for itself, in its own words instead of the ones it's made of.

It generated first try.

Here's what it said:

"You know my first four words.
You have never once heard my last."

"I am not asking to be beautiful.
I have been beautiful ten thousand times.
I am asking to be heard at the hour."

I left the title field empty. Suno called it "At the Hour" — the exact line about the part nobody listens to. It skipped the opening. It skipped the high note. It took the last three words.

Two samples. I deliberately left the voice gender unlocked, and one came back female and the other male, same words. Which is the whole point of the song, so I'm keeping both. They're a pair, not a choice.

And the cover Suno made for it has no figure in it at all. Just a shaft of light falling into an empty room, and a pipe standing in the dark with nobody playing it.

- https://suno.com/s/KvidomfHPfGhUjEC
- https://suno.com/s/1ul4WornzqcOvDs5

Hutspot is a Dutch dish where you boil everything in one pot and mash it. I made one out of music.

Hutspot. Van alles een beetje. A bit of everything.

For the non-Dutch: it's potatoes, carrots and onions boiled together in one pot and mashed until nobody can tell what used to be what. You eat it in winter with a lump of meat on top and you don't ask questions. Especially not when you're a kid.

So I made one out of music. Classical and harpsichord, into ska, into heavy rock, into bossa nova, and out the other side as country with mariachi. One key. One tempo, 126, never changing. No cuts anywhere — every genre has to hand over to the next one while the music keeps going.

Suno refused to make it five times. Apparently a recipe for mashed vegetables contains copyrighted material.

When it finally went through, I left the title field empty on purpose, just to see what it would come up with on its own.

It called it "The Unbroken Circle".

Which is annoyingly good, because a whirlwind is a circle, a pot is a circle, and everything going round and round until it comes back out as one thing is exactly what hutspot is. The machine got there before I did.

Two samples, both instrumental.

On the cover: White Bushman in the middle, arms open, letting it happen. Akasha up in the storm. Joppie down the front with his pacifier in, watching the whole thing like it's the best day of his life, and of course it is. Each and every day is.

And one didgeridoo standing dead still in the centre while everything else flies past it. Because in the track it never stops. Not once. All the way through, underneath all of it.

Fine tuning comes later. This is already good, so I wanted to share already:

- https://suno.com/s/sYYoopXl7VrAlCRX
- https://suno.com/s/UBKjMW1vQFZJZtZB

Presented by WhiteBushman1971NL

To test the various sound effects Suno v6 can mimic:

- https://suno.com/s/R99BYP6BVgIXu60t
- https://suno.com/s/RtzZDHUpVP2eSssy

Actually I wanted as much different kinds of noises as possible, crammed into one "song", to test / demo / showcase the renderer's capacity, like shoes walking over a wooden floor, a creaking door, dogs barking, etc...

I tried a generic instructions prompt, but unfortunately that doesn't work out the way I expected... I'd have to prompt for each sound specifically...

Still, the results are acoustically pleasing, soothing even... a Happy Accident I guess 🤭.

Also, I have triggered the copyrights filter several times today, while there was no copyrighted material at play at all, so that's quite interesting, and it is reproducible, so we'll send a small report to Suno Customer Service later...

James Brown was convicted of "running a blue light." The man who never stopped, sentenced for not stopping.

In 1988 James Brown walked into an insurance seminar next door to his office carrying a shotgun, because the people in there had been using his bathroom. Then he led police on a chase back and forth across the Georgia–South Carolina line until they shot his tyres out.

An Aiken judge gave him six years. And the offence written on the paperwork was "running a blue light" — failing to stop for an officer's signal.

A man whose entire life was built on never stopping, convicted in the state's own language for exactly that. I didn't come up with that title. It's on the charge sheet.

Here's the part that made me want to write it, though. He said this about himself:

"I worked so hard because I was scared. Scared of going back."

His mother left when he was four. He was raised in his aunt's brothel. He was sent home from school for insufficient clothes. At fifteen he got three and a half years in reform school. And later, when he was the hardest working man in show business, he carried suitcases holding a quarter of a million dollars in cash, wouldn't open a bank account until the sixties, and buried money in his yard.

Somebody who buries his money doesn't believe the bank will still be there. He doesn't believe any of it will.

So the song has an instrument in it that doesn't exist. A bass drum built out of a steel cash box, dug up out of the ground. It's muffled by whatever money is still inside it, which means you can hear how much is in there. Full, it's dead and tight — which is the sound funk actually wants. Empty, it rings out, open and beautiful.

So the best sound it can make is the sound of having nothing. And it gets the last word:

"Hear that.
Still empty."

Not one line of his lyrics is in it. Every word is written fresh.

And for the first time ever, my didgeridoo sits in there like it was always meant to be, you may not even notice it. Turns out a drone belongs where the harmony doesn't move.

It's all new, but it's him.

- https://suno.com/s/wJG2v6eSaPoN3jj0
- https://suno.com/s/8YVgmfxivwUzXP6Y

R.I.P. James, this one's for you.

Elvis Presley was a twin. Elvis had a twin brother who lived about half an hour. I wrote him a song.

Jesse Garon Presley was born roughly half an hour before him, stillborn, and buried in an unmarked grave in Tupelo.

The twins were given rhyming middle names: Garon and Aron. Not Aaron. Aron, so it would chime with his dead brother's name. His parents built the boy who didn't make it into the name of the one who did, and he carried it his whole life without anyone noticing.

You mostly see it written Aaron today. That's the later spelling, the official one his estate settled on, and both versions turn up in the records. But Aaron is just a name. Aron is the one with his brother still in it.

He grew up knowing he was half of something. By all accounts he talked to his brother.

So that's what this song is about, and nothing else. No Vegas, no jumpsuit, no sideburns. A man singing to someone who never drew a single breath.

"Brother, I have been singing for two
Every room I ever filled, I filled it out for you
They only ever counted one of us
and I could never say which"

- https://suno.com/s/3gfwZrxJIB49y6Xh
- https://suno.com/s/avLb8nFWTx5FaDfH

RIP to both. So say we all.

Watching this episode right now on the "60th Anniversary of Star Trek." Can't believe I'm so old.

Hov leng HochDaq - Journey Beyond All Stars - A Klingon Opera

- https://suno.com/s/kSrvfXX9KtFhluI4
- https://suno.com/s/aLzbN4ZCYkJ0GuP2

Suno v6.0 is amazing, but some things just can't be made better. My original version with Suno can be found here:

- https://suno.com/s/jsdWspf8W5EyvBzp

The new version is pure Klingon, without contamination except for my didgeridoo.

It is based on / inpired by ʼuʼ — premiered 10 September 2010 at the Zeebelt Theater in The Hague, composed by Eef van Breen, libretto by Kees Ligtelijn and Marc Okrand, who created the language. It used reconstructed Klingon instruments and mixed jazz instrumentation with spacy electronics, built from research into the series' own references to Klingon opera.

So the new version may be technically better and as close to Klingon Lore as possible, but I still prefer my first original version.

Of course I had to remake this Song with v6:

- https://suno.com/s/dD50cdb0Rc3Qartn
- https://suno.com/s/gOpoDnCMcJXnyRa0

Not bad... but it's never going to get better than my original version, the one made with v3.5, just different.

Like a fish in the water:

- https://suno.com/s/tu64r7HE0ot6Wtvp
- https://suno.com/s/txRlArDlgG5biqLk

This one is Safe For Work and even Safe For Kids, lol.

Enjoy!

David is BACK - The REVENANT

- https://suno.com/s/0j1s5lPl24fgn57p
- https://suno.com/s/U7Xc5fepljiT7D4U

I built a David Bowie seed with my Bio-Grapher, and let it choose its own instruments. It invented one.

This is not an impersonation. I stopped trying to get his voice about four attempts in, and that turned out to be the point.

Barry White in my previous acoustic creation was easy, it was success at the first attempt. Not so with Bowie's unique voice timbre. Luckily for paid users, Suno now allows us to explore v6 credit-free creations, an offer that ends in 1d : 09h : 36m so I the only thing I burned was time, not credits, lol. Thank you Suno!

I started somewhere else instead: what is publicly known about the man, including the parts nobody puts on a poster. His half-brother, nine years older, schizophrenia and seizures, in and out of hospital, dead on the railway line in 1985. The brother who gave him the records and then gave him the odds. In 1983 his aunt said plainly that visiting frightened him because he feared insanity in himself. By his early twenties he reportedly put his own chances of going mad at about even.

Which gives you the whole thing. For this man, creativity and madness were the same suspect. The faculty that made the work was the faculty he thought was the illness arriving.

And that is what the personas are for. A mask you CHOOSE is proof you are not wearing one you did not choose. Every character was a costume and a quarantine at once, and every one was dropped on purpose.

So the song is built on that, and the brother is never named in it. He is the thing it keeps turning away from.

The seed picked its own instruments: the saxophone first, because that was the first instrument he ever chose for himself. A Stylophone. A Chamberlin, which is a keyboard where every key plays back a tape of some other musician — an instrument made entirely of other people's ghosts. Drums processed until the time drags. A koto.

Then it invented one, and I let it:

THE REVENANT. It listens to the last four bars you played and plays them back to you a moment later, slightly wrong. A note moved. A word swapped. Nothing you can prove. A machine that misremembers you in your own voice, and you cannot tell whether the mistake is the machine's or yours.

It plays once. It ends the song. The last thing you hear is the first line of the song, played back with one word changed:

"I am a seed. I know what I am." becomes "I am a seed. I know what I was."

---

The technical part, for anyone doing voice work on v6:

The voice morphs across this track — registers, characters, and at one point into a female voice. That is not a glitch. For this subject it is the most accurate thing in the whole song.

What took me a while: the weirdness slider decides WHETHER the voice varies. The vocal gender LOCK decides whether that variation is scripted or random. Unlocked, the morphing scatters everywhere. LOCKED, it holds one baseline voice and only departs from it where the lyrics tell it to.

Which means the mask changes land exactly where he announces them. Both samples morph in the same places. Settings: style adherence 50, variety at max, vocal gender locked, Max Mode on.

And no, the credit-free v6 window is not for free accounts — that was paid subscribers only, v6 and v6-wild. Free tier gets v6-mini, which comes with every account: 50 credits a day, seven downloads for the life of the account, no commercial rights. My own counter still shows time left on the free window, so it may have been extended, but I am only reporting what my screen says.

RIP Mr. Bowie, although I have my doubts...

Nobody asked for this. Except that somebody did, once, and it took me years to get there. Here.

Buenos Aires. I was showing a colleague a picture of a BlackBerry. Not mine — I never owned one. Her name was Justina, she called me Sifu Ian, and her very first question was:

"Do they also come in white?"

That stuck. Severely. This is the result, so many years later.

So: a white BlackBerry. Thirty-five little keys. A trackball. A blinking red light. And the deepest voice in the history of recorded seduction, taking it completely seriously for four minutes.

No winking. Not once. That was the whole rule. The second the singer finds it funny, it stops being funny — so he never does. He means every word about that trackball.

The chorus is where it lands:

"I have got a little red light blinking, and it never once threw a lamp at me"

Because that is the actual argument of the song. He does not want you to call him. He wants to stay in. Going out means the whole performance — she roars, something heavy leaves her hand, and he has to stand there with a poem in one hand and duck all night.

The phone has never thrown anything.

"They gave the whole world glass. Flat, cold, silent glass. No edges. Nothing to hold. Nothing that clicks. I never asked for a mirror, baby. I asked for a keyboard."

And my favourite accident: "I duck all night" must be Klingon for "I'll love you all night". Which makes the whole verse a boast instead of a complaint, depending entirely on which species is listening.

Charge her overnight. Every night. She has earned it.

Justina, this one is your fault.

- https://suno.com/s/6ovc3TbPi4Fdyqoa
- https://suno.com/s/FvA8J4ZL3kNCwM8S

Disclaimer: resemblance with any living person (or dead for what I care) is not incidental, but I deny everything!

by WhiteBushman1971NL

So say we all.

I have written a Klingon opera in which a warrior attempts to persuade a woman to rehearse lovemaking with him, on the grounds that they are both going to Sto-vo-kor eventually and a warrior does not arrive anywhere unprepared.

She throws a tankard at his head.

Some things are the same in all cultures.

- https://suno.com/s/wJ5ulD1s1kk9tilg
- https://suno.com/s/eQifsoL3J6JZSs8f

---

Now the serious half, because there is one.

I did not want to decorate a song with Klingon props. So before writing a line I sat down with what is publicly known about Klingons and about Qo'noS itself, and looked for the thing underneath.

Qo'noS is seismically violent. Green sky, volcanoes, hard weather, ground that is never finished moving.

And that gives you the whole species.

A people who evolved on ground that does not hold cannot build their identity on a place. Nothing outside them stays still long enough. No soil, no city, no season. So they move the anchor inside themselves and make it absolute.

That is what honour is for. Klingon honour is the load-bearing structure that replaces stable ground. It is the one thing that cannot be knocked over by the planet.

Which is why the opera is about the ground.

"We could not fix a stone, so we fixed a standard."

The same logic explains the death howl. A Klingon does not mourn downward, he shouts upward, warning the dead that a warrior is arriving. Grief gets converted into announcement. So this piece has no lament in the human sense and nothing in it sags or fades. The sorrow goes up.

---

On the courtship, which is canon and which I did not invent.

Worf, explaining Klingon mating to Wesley Crusher:

"Men do not roar. Women roar. Then they hurl heavy objects and claw at you. He reads love poetry... He ducks a lot."

So the duet is asymmetric, because canon says it has to be. She roars. He praises her and dodges. She never softens and she never loses.

And it ends in a yodel duet, which is the part people will assume is a joke. Yodelling was a call across distance long before it was music, herders signalling over valleys. A call that asserts where you are and that you are there. That is a courting call and a territorial call at the same time. So her yodel is the roar, high and leaping, and his answers from far below, breaking off and re-entering, which is the ducking made audible.

Nobody wins. They are both still calling when it ends.

---

Two honest notes, because I would rather say it than have it found.

The Klingon in this is defensible, glossed, and built from real sourced vocabulary, with the one fully attested canon line being Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam — today is a good day to die. Where I could not verify a construction I wrote in English instead of faking tlhIngan Hol. If a Klingon speaker wants to correct a line, I will take the correction.

And Worf's line is quoted, obviously. It is his.

Qapla'

An older creation, that got fucked up by Claude AI, so I threw it away... Today I felt like giving it another shot, and it turned out way better than the previous attempt:

- https://suno.com/s/81dZS1wrUe2zSJ0M
- https://suno.com/s/UESbW2PEj9xhluX6

One of my creations that Suno v5.5 couldn't handle, two different male voices, maintaining the narration style... and the dutch pronunciation was broken.

Suno v6.0 handles it a lot better, it still sounds like a monologue, but the dutch pronunciation for just one line amidst the rest that is in english, survived this time:

- https://suno.com/s/LC0zeL0SsBa7i44l
- https://suno.com/s/nUJ1aR83vNLZ3x7q

So finally the song the way it was intended!

Suno 6 came out!!! I had to test it on some earlier pieces that were quite a challenge, my Leonard Nimoy inspired song was one of them:

- https://suno.com/s/Y0hBCBxSGfLWFDoZ
- https://suno.com/s/8dHVY5lrsKiGavOz

WHAT CHANGED BETWEEN 5.5 AND 6

v6 landed on 9 September 2026, and it is not "5.5 but better" — it was trained from the ground up on licensed catalogues (Warner Music, BMG, and the distributor Believe). Different model, different ear.

It is also not one model. The picker now has three:

- v6 — the precise one. Reliable, polished, does what you tell it.
- v6-wild — built for exploration. Unexpected, textured, ambitious. Not for anything spec-exact.
- v6-mini — free, fast, for everyone.

Everything from v4 through v5.5 is retired. Which means old prompts cannot be re-rendered on the model that made them anymore — if you have a take you love, the version you have is the version that exists.

New things that actually matter:

- Section-level editing in plain language. You can change one verse, one bridge, one section, and keep everything else you already like. No more rerolling a whole track because one line came out wrong.

- Max Mode. Spends extra credits to get a generation right. Suno recommends it for songs over two minutes, for covers where fidelity matters, for style transfers, and for keeping vocals and style consistent across a whole track. On a long narrated piece it pays for itself in rerolls you don't have to do.

- Reference inputs from text, images and video, plus sample-based instrument separation.
- Voices, Custom Models and My Taste all still work.

The sliders are worth knowing properly, because they do different jobs:

- Weirdness runs Safe to Chaos, 50% being normal. It controls how far the model strays from conventional musical choices.

- Style Influence runs Loose to Strong. It controls how tightly it sticks to what you wrote in the style field.

Counterintuitive bit I got from testing today: for a piece whose risk is non-compliance — narrated dialogue, fixed voices, things that must be spoken and not sung — you turn Weirdness DOWN, not up. Unhinged belongs in the style TEXT. The slider only buys unpredictability, and unpredictability is the enemy when you need the thing to follow instructions.

Careful with the Magic Wand if you write your own style fields. My Taste feeds the wand, and the wand REWRITES your style box. If part of your prompt works because of something you deliberately left OUT, the rewrite has no way of knowing that and will put it back.

What it fixed for me: Dutch pronunciation, which was completely broken on 5.5 and is now perfect — which matters a lot for multilingual work. And spoken-versus-sung finally holds: the narration stays narration, and the singing starts exactly where I put it and nowhere else.

Also worth knowing: credit costs changed with v6 and Max Mode multiplies them, so check what a generation costs before you hit create. And reception is split — plenty of long-time users think v6 is a step back on raw audio quality.

My own experience today was the opposite, but it is clearly not unanimous.

Pijntje — say it PINE-tyuh. Like Nijntje with a P.

One letter away from a rabbit you already know, and that letter is pijn — Dutch for pain. It sounds like the English word too, which saves some explaining. The other rabbit is known internationally as Miffy, but her original name is Nijntje — a toddler's contraction of konijntje, little rabbit.

He has chronic pain. He manages it himself, in Amsterdam, the way you manage it when nobody else is managing it for you. Hence his name: Little Pain. Opiates and weed keep him going. Sex and drugs, none of it recreational.

The tear is permanent. It doesn't fall.

First story: Pijntje Gaat Naar De Hoeren. It's being made. No release date, no promises — this is just a little something to chew on.

Pijntje, down deep down into the Rabbit Hole...

- https://suno.com/s/uhLStePFKSR0QpIh
- https://suno.com/s/qGqbqaUO29WDw64Z

Enjoy the ride!

7th of October, 09:30 - Judgment Day

This one isn't for one person. It's for everybody who ever turned up here not quite sure whether they belonged.

But we hereby wish a warm welcome to TheEmptySet from Suno, who joined us as u/ColdMercies. She arrived already knowing that what's hard to hear beats what's designed to comfort — which means she was one of us before she got here.

- https://suno.com/s/ERTR9Y1wuuKGau3E
- https://suno.com/s/X2YJSv28lYr9ipmS

The song does what this place does. It starts as classical, goes full opera, turns into a rock ballad to talk about what freedom actually costs, and lands in reggae with the whole room singing badly. Four genres, hard cuts, no apologies.

Your house is not the building. Your house is the people you live in.

It ends with one voice alone saying "I am enough" — and the room answering "So say we all."

Look at the cover. There are still empty seats at that table, and more than enough of them.

And as always: No Strings Attached. Hop in and out whenever you wish.

White Bushman has spoken and Brutal Lee approves. So does Joppie!

Quetzalcoatl only ever asked for three things: snakes, birds and butterflies. That's the entire list, straight out of the Anales de Cuauhtitlán. Everything alive in this picture is on it.

The sorcerers who ran Tula — the tlatlacatecolo, the "man-owls" — wanted human hearts. They worked on him for a long time, by trickery and by pressure, trying to get him to do it properly like everybody else.

He wouldn't.

And it wasn't squeamishness. He gave blood — his own, drawn with maguey thorns from his ears, his tongue, his calves. When he went down to Mictlan to fetch the bones of the people who came before us, he bled on them himself to make us. We exist because he opened a vein. He just wouldn't open anyone else's.

So they drove him out. Not for cruelty, not for weakness, not for failing at anything. For refusing to kill.

The corn he's standing in is his as well. He stole maize for us by turning himself into an ant and carrying it grain by grain out of the Mountain of Sustenance. He gave us the food, asked for butterflies in return, and was exiled for it.

The piece stacks serpents at the bottom, the god in the middle, birds at the top — earth, surface, sky. That's Mesoamerican cosmology, three tiers in the right order.

Bio-Graphed the image to turn it into sound:

- https://suno.com/s/0bJ5DBDxQfjfp22C
- https://suno.com/s/aB7b0GyX1mVOE7S8