From the nostalgic chirps of Amiga-style chiptunes to earth-shaking neurofunk drops, from aggressive rap battles with npm to ambient doom meditations on infinite loops - this album refuses to pick a lane. Because why should your music be more consistent than your codebase?
Industrial-strength techno that captures the agonizing wait for database responses that never come. These tracks hit like an infinite loading spinner - relentless, hypnotic, and testing the limits of your patience.
Descent into the ninth circle of DevOps damnation. These tracks explore the psychological breakdown that comes with modern infrastructure - from YAML's invisible syntax errors to AWS IAM's permission mazes to the privacy theater of cookie banners. Industrial doom meets eurodance chaos in a soundtrack for every developer who's ever screamed at whitespace.
An expanded collection exploring the full spectrum of web development agony. From JavaScript framework fatigue to CSS layout nightmares, from git merge conflicts to Stack Overflow salvation. This album captures every frustration, from the relentless churn of new libraries to the eternal struggle with cascading style sheets. A battle cry against breaking changes, incompatible browsers, and the daily grind of modern web development.
A spiritual awakening expressed through contemporary worship. Seven anthems chronicling the journey from digital chaos to divine clarity - finding peace, purpose, and home in something greater than code.
The symbiotic future of development where human and artificial intelligence blur into one. Seven tracks exploring parasocial relationships with AI coding assistants, the erosion of human skills, and the inevitable surrender to automation.
Lil' Backtick is what happens when AI meets developer humor and nobody stops to ask "should we?"
Born from prompts and trained on terrabytes of technical documentation, Lil' Backtick produces tracks that are 100% artificial and 100% relatable to anyone who's ever screamed at their terminal.
Each song is carefully crafted by algorithms that have never felt the pain of a merge conflict, yet somehow perfectly capture it. It's either a testament to AI's capabilities or proof that our suffering has become so standardized it can be procedurally generated.
Fun fact: The only thing human about this project is the frustration that inspired it.
