Real and imagined memory
The overlap between remembering and imagining is well documented, and the distinction the brain draws is subtler than most people assume.
Sonic Rewrite
Not music you like.
Music you use.
You talk for an hour. You get back an album of your own life: a record built out of the sentences you actually said, in an interview nobody has ever asked you to sit through before. You hear it for the first time sitting with the person who made it. Then you are guided through thirty days of listening, a protocol for letting it settle into the body rather than the head, and the aim is simple: it becomes your new favourite album.
Do not treat this lightly.And if five minutes is genuinely
what this is worth to you today,
then you are right,
and this is not for you.There are other things and some of them are good.
The method, as physics
Press a frequency and watch how it changes you.
Sand on a square steel plate, driven by one tone at a time. Where the plate moves, the grains are thrown off; where it does not, they gather; and the tone decides where those places are. The eight frequencies are ones measured on a real plate in the UC Santa Barbara physics lecture demonstrations, twenty-four centimetres square and under a millimetre thick, driven at its centre, with photographs of thirty-five of its patterns. The drawing here is the standard approximation of each one; the real sand does the same thing, and stranger.
Why nothing here is lower than 47 hertz
A plate’s notes are set by its size, its thickness and its metal: the pitch of any shape goes as the thickness over the square of the side. Forty-seven hertz is the lowest note anyone has photographed on this plate. Double the side and the same shape arrives at a quarter of the frequency; a plate the size of a door, in the same steel, would hold its first shape at about four hertz, but it would have to swing more than a centimetre to throw the sand at all.
The rhythms of the brain, from half a hertz to about forty, sit below everything this plate can do. That is not a hidden meaning. It is the size of the plate.
Frequencies affect the body. That is real, and it is taken into account in how a Sonic Rewrite is built.
What happens
It starts before any money changes hands. You tell us, in a few sentences, what is going on and where you are in life, and what made you want this. That is not admin. It is the first honest thing you say to us, and it is the ground the whole hour is built on. We read it, we come back to you with the next interview dates and answers to anything you still want to ask, and only then do you pay.
Sixty minutes, or two to three hours if you choose the deeper one. Live, on video. This is the product. The music is what it leaves behind.
Your sentences are mapped, engineered into lyrics, and produced. Nothing is written that you did not say.
You do not receive a link. You sit down with the person who made it, on a call or in a room, and hear your album for the first time while she is there. Whatever it does to you, it does to you in company. This is how Sonic Rewrite is delivered, and it is different from everything else we make.
At the end of that sitting the album goes online. Afterwards you receive the Spotify link, and the others.
The album comes with a protocol. What happens in those thirty days is the thing you actually paid for.
Who you actually are
is not the marketing here.
It is the raw material.
Everything we make is built
from you and for you.
The version of you
If you live in your head, this could be the most uncomfortable mirror you have ever heard.
What the armour is
Jargon, abstraction and detached metaphor. All of them are defences, and all of them were built for a reason.
The interview exists to take them off you.
And what that feels like
The discomfort is not a side effect of the work.
It is the work.
The constraint
That constraint is the entire difficulty. Every metaphor has to be one you already produced. No borrowed imagery, no stock phrasing, none of our own language smuggled in. Building something that works as music out of a closed set of pieces is the part that cannot be automated, and it is the part people assume is easy because the result sounds inevitable.
Check one out, check them all, or check none of them.
Put your headphones on. Four people filmed the first time they heard their own album, five real tracks with the notes on what each one was built to do, and every cover ever made. This is the only way to answer the question you are actually asking, which is: what does it sound like?
Enter → 02 / 04Feel it10 min if you answer honestlyA mirror, held up to your own words, for ten minutes. Seven explorations, each one begun for you and finished in your own hand, each one shaped by the answer before it — the kind of question nobody asks you and you never quite ask yourself. Then it is read back to you aloud, in nothing but the words you just wrote, in a voice you choose, over music. Most people are surprised by what they hear, and it is theirs.
Enter → 03 / 04Trust it20 min to read · an hour with the letters openAnyone can write a beautiful sentence about themselves, so there is not one on this page. There is eighteen years of what happened to other people instead — what they could suddenly say, what they stopped carrying, what changed in the week after — written by them, not by us, and each line opens the whole letter it came out of so you can read past the part we would have chosen.
Enter → 04 / 04Understand it15 min for the page · the sources have no bottomMost of this site is a sales page. This part is not. The whole apparatus, withheld from nobody: the seven centres, the seven pleasures, the nine disciplines the work has to hold at once, the five stages from first sentence to finished album, why it costs what it costs, and twenty-nine sources underneath so you can go and check.
Enter →Is this you
There is no right or wrong moment for this, and there are as many reasons as there are lives. These are the ones people usually arrive with.
If yours is not here
Tell us what it is, and we will gladly make the album for that.
There are as many reasons as there are lives, and the five above are only where people usually start. A personal change. A professional one. A vision of a life you have not lived yet. Something you want to be able to remember exactly.
Drawing 06 · what you are actually buying
The album plus the protocol is the service. The thirty days after you first hear it are where the thing you paid for actually happens: six practices built on somatic approaches, with a system for reinforcing what they move. They ask something of you.
Drawing 06a · the 30-day protocol · six practices, in order
You hear the album for the first time with the person who made it, on a call or in a room. She is there as its creator and as the one holding the space: a conversation about how it feels, while it is happening.
highest resistance, highest yield
You listen while recording yourself on video, holding eye contact with your own face on the screen.
your own vocal cords
You listen while reading the lyrics, and you sing along. Saying it yourself is not the same as hearing it said.
below the neck
You let it move through your body. Dance, shake, or simply move. You cannot think your way out of a trauma response.
the cringe is data
Afterwards you write down what surfaced, where you cringed, and what shifted.
thirty days
Then you simply let it play. Dishes, walking, the gym. It sinks in underneath you.
Drawing 06b · one client’s two months, measured
She received two albums. She listened to both at least once a day for two months, and journalled two hours a week. That comes to ninety-three hours of focused attention. Drawn here against what one hour a week with a psychologist adds up to across a whole year.
What happens to it afterwards
Nothing you say in the interview belongs to anyone but you. Repeat it, publish it, write your own book out of it. You never have to ask.
You have access to your album indefinitely. Personal use is unlimited and permanent: play it, share it, put it in a film about your life, play it at your wedding or your funeral, leave it to your children. It does not expire and there is nothing to renew. You also get the files.
Nothing goes anywhere until you have listened, and you listen with the person who made it. After that sitting the album goes online, on every platform, with a title and a subtitle about the album and not about you, and you receive the links.
What it costs
The album is not the product. The change is, and change takes time, so the honest version of this is a year and the other two are the shapes a shorter commitment can take. Read the three and choose the one that describes your life rather than the one that fits your budget. Every number here is the whole number: nothing is quoted later, and there is no call to find out the rest.
If you are still deciding
Not one person, in advance. The people who have been through it all arrive at the same sentence afterwards, and we stopped trying to improve on it.
“I had no idea what
I was going to receive.
You won’t understand what this is
until you’ve experienced it.”
So the honest advice is to take one of the four doors rather than read more of this page. Hear a track. Sit with five questions. Read what four hundred people wrote. Then decide.
The whole thing, in one breath
You are unique in exactly the way everybody is unique. Whatever is going on in your life right now, the good and the bad and the ugly, is the only material this works on. We add nothing. We do not improve you.
Sonic Rewrite is a mirror
of who you are and where you are,
made so that you feel seen and heard.
Terms
Mercedes keeps the copyright to the music, as the person who wrote and produced it. That is the ordinary arrangement for any recorded music, and it changes nothing about what you can do with yours.
If a company wants to use an album commercially, in advertising, in a product or in a public campaign, that is priced separately and negotiated on its own. If you are a person making an album about your own life, this does not concern you.
It can be removed from every platform. That carries an additional cost, and it is something to raise during the interview.
Post-divorce reconstruction
“The body is mine.”
Put it on whenMove my body before my mind wakes up
Engineered for a client navigating a profound life transition following a complex divorce. Relocating to a completely new environment, she needed to rewrite her daily operational baseline. After years of her identity being entirely consumed by the logistical demands of domestic life and caretaking, this album was created to physically anchor her new reality and establish a non-negotiable morning ritual of self-reclamation.
This piece highlights our Rebirth architecture. It demonstrates how we use auditory entrainment to help a client safely shed the heavy, outdated roles of their past — mother, wife, the perfect girl — and neurologically map the excitement of building a sovereign life somewhere new.
The iron coat of domestic expectation. The nervous system habit of waking straight into service mode — needing to make a sandwich, give a ride — and the pressure that movement must be punishing rather than expressive.
An organic house beat with tribal drums to entrain the listener out of a rigid cognitive state and into a fluid body. The BPM builds alongside the metaphor of the rising sun, so the track works as a literal neuro-somatic alarm clock. Dancing is reframed from a workout into a witnessing of the self — I do it for the witness. The line The body is mine is the actual closure of the divorce, returning her physical and emotional real estate to her alone.
Sacral, for movement and sensuality, and Heart, for self devotion. The Sacral to reactivate the body’s capacity for raw pleasure and rhythm, the Heart to redirect her caretaking energy inward.
Autonomy. We linguistically transmuted the isolating feeling of being alone into the euphoric, high frequency state of absolute ownership over one’s own time, space and body.
Facing entrepreneurial blocks
“The tightness is the engine turning on.”
Put it on whenTurn my fear into something usable174 BPM
Engineered for a client rewriting their internal narrative about risk, identity, and leaving the conventional path. They experienced severe somatic anxiety — a literal tightness in the chest and a fear of the fall — when stepping away from the safety of expectation and into their own power.
A masterclass in real-time linguistic reframing. It shows how auditory architecture can take a terrifying physical sensation, chest tightness, and across the first half of one song completely re-engineer the brain’s reading of it from worry into explosive empowerment.
Fear of the unknown showing up as a panic response — tightness in the chest and the drop in the stomach. The glitch underneath was the belief that leaving the prescribed path equals a dangerous fall.
NLP and embedded commands to bypass conscious resistance. Tightness is redefined as the engine turning on, and gravity as energy waiting to be used. Somatic anchoring is explicit: the lyrics command you to bounce on your heels and shake the hands exactly as the 174 BPM beat drops, so the stuck survival energy is physically discharged rather than discussed.
Root, for survival, shifting into Solar Plexus, for willpower. The Root to alchemise the baseline fear that the ground is unstable into a sense of safety, then the Solar Plexus to ignite the creator mindset.
Ignition. The physiological arousal of panic redirected as directed fire, using the sensation of anxiety as the literal fuel for the launch.
Toxic breakup recovery
“He was colourblind to the light.”
Put it on whenMake something clear that has been murky
Originally crafted for a client navigating the aftermath of a deeply hurtful breakup. The core work was finding internal peace when an ex-partner consistently projected their own shadows and insecurities rather than seeing the client’s actual light.
Since we published our first Sonic Rewrite on 15 December 2025, this has become the most listened-to track we have. It is a reminder that the most highly personal breakthroughs are often the most universally resonant.
Illusion and black-and-white thinking. The trauma of shrinking your own sky to fit someone else’s limited view, and the specific pain of being fundamentally unseen.
The lyrics are structured as neuro-somatic code to shatter the illusion. By identifying that the ex-partner was simply colourblind to the light, the client takes the power back. Bilingual integration, English blended with Spanish, deliberately bypasses the critical logical mind and reaches the deeper emotional memory centres. What comes out is a frequency of absolute peace and unapologetic fire.
Third Eye, for vision and insight, targeted to alchemise the block of illusion into insight.
Radiance, transmuted from pride. The shift from wearing a mask to shining without apology or comparison.
Overcoming rejection
“Desperation, turned into conviction.”
Put it on whenMake me laugh at the thing I am scared of
Engineered for a company founder moving from a small local footprint to the global stage. He was trapped by his own corporate mask, paralysed by the fear of looking desperate or foolish while trying to scale. During the somatic interview he resonated deeply with the rapper Lil Dicky — specifically the video where the artist relentlessly knocks on the doors of mansions asking to film for free until he finally gets a yes.
This shows how identity architecture uses humour, pop-culture archetypes and aggressive playfulness to shatter the ego. It proves that deep psychological reprogramming does not always have to be heavy. Sometimes the fastest route through is to make the nervous system laugh at its own fear.
The corporate ego and the linear trap. Fear of rejection, the paralysing need to look cool, and a false dignity that quietly stifles monumental growth.
The Lil Dicky archetype is used as a neurological permission slip. The track opens with a literal skit of rejection, a door slamming, so the worst fear is exposed immediately and made musically infectious. An upbeat funky brass section pivots into heavy Quebecois French rap as a somatic pattern interrupt, destroying the polite corporate mask and replacing it with the relentless, joyful energy of a founder who cares more about the mission than the ego.
Throat, for authentic expression, and Solar Plexus, for bold action. The throat to unlock a paralysed voice, the solar plexus to ignite the sheer audacity required to operate globally.
Audacity. The heavy, shame-bound concept of desperation transmuted into the magnetic state of conviction.
Financial abundance
“The work will happen while you dance.”
Put it on whenLet me stop pushing for a minute
Engineered for a client in deep financial anxiety and burnout from chronic hustle culture. She was caught in a cycle of self-punishment on quiet business days, holding the belief that wealth could only be generated through force, rushing and continuous exhaustion.
A masterclass in alchemising money blocks. It shows how we use auditory entrainment to detach abundance from a state of nervous system dysregulation, the hustle, and reattach it to a state of magnetic regulation, the flow. It proves that real power does not require force.
Sympathetic nervous system overdrive — the push. The illusion that stillness equals failure, and the programme that the only valid way to make money is through suffering and relentless grinding.
A high-energy tribal drum groove entrains the body out of an anxious posture and into an expansive, dancing state. Bilingual cognitive interruption slips into French — laisse le faire, reviens à l’être — to short-circuit the logical English doing-brain and drop the listener into the somatic being-body. By commanding you to dance, the nervous system processes the anxiety physically, which anchors the new belief: the work will happen while you dance.
Sacral, for water, fluidity and creation. We instructed the client to feel the hips, to melt the rigid stagnant tension that always accompanies financial fear and replace it with fluid momentum.
Desire, as the compass. We neutralised the guilt attached to wanting rest, reframing fatigue not as failure but as the tide going out to gather strength, and put desire back where it belongs as the navigation system.
And on every other major streaming service.
Before anything else
There is nothing on this page until you start typing. Answer that, and it begins.
Seven questions · about ten minutes
We cannot give you that here. Nothing on a screen can give you an hour with a person who is listening for the thing you did not quite say.
This is one per cent of it. Seven questions, each one built out of the answer you gave the one before it, and at the end the whole thing read back to you in nothing but your own sentences.
When you are ready
Your turn
Eighteen years of letters, reviews and messages about her, gathered in one place and read one at a time. Nothing here is her description of herself.
Every sentence in the profile was written by a guest, a client, a colleague or a stranger, and checked word for word against its source. Seven in ten stop describing the thing they bought and start describing her.
All 546 items were read individually and judged against all seven, not pattern-matched. One item can belong to several, and most do. Open any one of them for its evidence.
Eight chapters, 76 sentences, 76 different people. Hover any highlighted sentence to see who wrote it and read it inside their own letter, with that line marked.
The same method turned on the offer instead of the person. Most of it was written years before Sonic Rewrite existed, by people describing a dinner, a coaching hour or a training day.
Sources: the Impact Testimonials PDF (91 pages), the LinkedIn recommendations export (104), the HiR Fine Dining document, TripAdvisor (182), OpenTable (19 live plus archive), Google Maps, one recorded call. 546 items · 334,574 characters · 420 named people · earliest dated 27 August 2008.
Read and checked line by line ·
Sonic Rewrite · the long answer
Most of this site is a sales page. This part is not. This is the whole apparatus, written for the person who cannot buy a thing until they know how it works, with the sources attached so you can go and check.
It is longer than it needs to be on purpose. The point is not that you read all of it. The point is that it exists.
01 · The premise
The neural networks that fire when you recall something that happened overlap substantially with those that fire when you construct something that has not. Build a sensory rich musical narrative of a reality and you are, functionally, installing a memory of it.
Sound gets a privileged route in. Auditory reaction time sits around 140 to 160 milliseconds against 180 to 200 for visual. The ear beats the eye to the nervous system, every time, and by a margin you can build a method on.
The overlap between remembering and imagining is well documented, and the distinction the brain draws is subtler than most people assume.
Sound reaches motor response faster than light does. This is why the method is built on music rather than on reading.
02 · The first framework
This is not decoration. It is the structural guide for what each track has to do, and the questions in the left column are the actual questions asked in the interview.
| Centre | The block | The alchemy | The question asked |
|---|---|---|---|
| Root | Fear. Survival instinct gone wrong, the ground feels unstable. | Safety. Deep grounding and trust in resources. | What are you most afraid of? |
| Sacral | Guilt. Denying one’s needs, feeling bad for wanting. | Pleasure. Letting desire lead without apology. | What do you blame yourself for? |
| Solar plexus | Shame. Disappointment in self, feeling small. | Willpower. The fire of sovereignty. | What are your biggest disappointments? |
| Heart | Grief. The pain of separation, the weight of missing. | Love. Connection that outlasts distance. | Who do you miss? |
| Throat | Lies. The stories told to stay small. | Truth. Speaking your worth out loud. | What lies do you tell yourself? |
| Third eye | Illusion. Seeing separation, black and white thinking. | Insight. Context, contrast, continuum. | What do you think is separate from you? |
| Crown | Attachment. Clinging, fear of scarcity. | Freedom. Trusting the flow of spirit and matter. | What attaches you to this world? |
The chakra system is a framework from Indian traditions, used here as a diagnostic and compositional structure rather than a metaphysical claim. You do not have to believe in it for it to organise an album usefully.
03 · The second framework
Each of the classical vices is treated as a healthy appetite that got bent. The work is to unbend it, not to suppress it.
| The sin | The distortion | The pleasure | The shift |
|---|---|---|---|
| Gluttony | Mindless consumption to fill a void. | Savouring | From quantity to quality, deep sensory presence. |
| Lust | Using others for a quick hit. | Vitality | The genuine pulse of life in your own veins. |
| Greed | Hoarding, fear of scarcity. | Receiving | The open state that lets abundance in at all. |
| Sloth | Stagnation, refusing to move. | Ease | Moving efficiently with the current. |
| Wrath | Destructive, explosive fire. | Ignition | Directed fire, anger as fuel for art and boundaries. |
| Envy | Resenting another’s beauty or success. | Admiration | Their beauty as evidence of what is possible for you. |
| Pride | Ego inflation, the mask. | Radiance | Shining without comparison. |
The seven deadly sins are a mediaeval Christian schema. Reading them as distorted appetites rather than crimes is the move that makes them usable in this work.
04 · The disciplines
This is the honest answer to why it is expensive and why it cannot be automated. Each of these is somebody’s whole career.
David Grove’s questioning method. The facilitator contributes as close to zero of their own metaphor as possible, and works entirely inside the client’s symbolic landscape. The signature question is and what kind of X is that X? Everything downstream depends on getting this right, because contaminated input produces an album about the interviewer.
Embedded commands hide a directive inside a larger structure, so the critical faculty does not get a clean shot at it. In a lyric that looks like a chorus line that happens to be an instruction.
Hal and Sidra Stone’s method treats the self as a parliament of sub personalities: the Pusher, the Critic, the Inner Child. A Sonic Rewrite frequently hands the microphone to a part that has been kept quiet.
Byron Katie’s four questions and the turnaround. Used to dismantle the limiting belief before it is set to music, and often used structurally: the verse carries the lie, the chorus carries the turnaround.
Peter Levine and Pat Ogden. Trauma is held in the nervous system as a defensive response that never completed. Movement discharges it. This is why the protocol makes you dance rather than merely listen, and why talk alone is slower.
Altshuler, 1948. To move somebody’s mood you must first match where they are, then move. An album that opens where the client actually is and climbs is following this. An album that opens at the destination fails.
Neural oscillation synchronises to external rhythm. Slow tempo for grounding, driving tempo for agency. Choosing a BPM is therefore a clinical decision, not a taste decision.
Phillippa Lally’s work puts habit formation at a median of 66 days, with a range from 18 to 254. The 21 day figure everybody repeats is a misreading of a plastic surgeon’s observation. This is why the thirty day protocol is a beginning rather than a completion.
Suno and its relatives are the orchestra, not the composer. The prompt is the score, and it has to specify genre, mood, instrumentation, structure tags and psychoacoustic intent. The narrative, the architecture and the lyrics stay entirely human.
05 · The process
Not a chat. A strategic extraction. The container is set, the contract of vulnerability is named, and then the seven centres are worked through in order using the questions in section 02.
When a metaphor appears it is excavated rather than interpreted:
I feel like I’m holding up a wall. — And what kind of wall is that wall? — It’s a glass wall. I can see through it but I can’t touch.
That exchange decides the whole album. The lyric will be about the glass, and about whether the glass is real.
The transcript is combed for recurring metaphors and exact phrases. Each theme is assigned a track, a centre, and a pleasure shift, and then the medicine is written out explicitly: what psychological move does this track have to make.
A client says they feel small, like a grain of sand. Mapped to Sacral, guilt into vitality. The alchemy reframes smallness from insignificance into efficiency: I don’t have to be the whole beach, I just have to be this one grain.
Their keywords, not ours. If they said Bunsen burner, the song is called The Bunsen Burner. The brain accepts its own vocabulary faster than it accepts advice.
Present tense, not aspiration. Not I will try to be brave but I stand, I burn, I stay, I am the fire. Percussive verbs to engage the motor cortex. A second language where it helps, to slip past the logical mind and reach the memory that was laid down in that language.
Genre specified precisely, never as a category. Not pop but cinematic alt pop, tribal house, acoustic folk with Celtic influence. Psychoacoustic descriptors matched to the centre: deep bass and 60 to 70 BPM for grounding, six eight time for the heart because it physically opens the chest, stomp and clap for power.
Then generate, curate for the take where the machine accidentally lands the exact inflection, and extend section by section so the narrative does not drift.
Not an MP3. A guidebook explaining the philosophy, the neurology and the architecture, with a neuro somatic analysis of every lyric. The individual tracks. A gapless journey mix for deep listening. And a prescription for how to consume it.
Phase one, ninety minutes, high volume, movement mandatory: your only job is to move, dance, cry, shake, do not analyse. Phase two, sit with the guidebook and read the lyrics while listening. Phase three, let it play underneath your life until it is furniture.
06 · Worked examples
The glitch: the Diplomat. Overly polite, withholding his own intuition to keep the peace.
The alchemy: Solar plexus, diplomacy into directness.
The lyric: I don’t need to be so diplomatic. I am directing the fire. I trust the hunch.
The move: his own Bunsen burner metaphor reframed his anger from a forest fire into a clean blue focused flame. Same energy, different container.
The glitch: the Structure. He had built a solid foundation and feared the chaos of the next phase.
The alchemy: Root and sloth, hard work into flow.
The lyric: The wood is done. The wind has begun. It feels like chaos but it’s just the flow.
The move: asking for help reframed from shame into conviction.
The glitch: the Pullback. A stagnant year read as failure.
The alchemy: Root and vitality, stuckness into potential energy.
The lyric: You are not retreating. You are standing in the great pause. The bow must bend to loose the light.
The move: elastic potential energy used literally as the physics of psychological resilience. The further back, the further out.
07 · The economics
Custom music production of this kind normally runs twenty to a hundred thousand and takes six to twelve months, by which point the client’s reality has moved and the art is about somebody who no longer exists. The whole model is built to defeat that delay.
The seed. The client pays roughly a tenth of market value, which is what launches the work into existence. The absorption. The Architect carries the remaining nine tenths, and in exchange the work becomes part of a permanent body of released, anonymised music. The privacy clause. If you want it never released, you pay the full market value, because you are buying back the nine tenths somebody else was carrying.
Which is also the honest answer to why the price on the rest of this site looks low for what it is. It is low because it is subsidised, and it is subsidised because the released catalogue is worth something to the person making it.
08 · Sources
Every substantive claim above has something under it. Not all of these are equally strong, and the frameworks in sections 02 and 03 are structural tools rather than empirical findings. That distinction is worth keeping.
09 · If you got this far
Most people do not want this much. You clearly do, and the people who read this section are the people who buy, because you cannot commit to something you have not taken apart.
From $1,250, most people around $3,250, and the whole price table is on the other pages. Ask everything first, pay second, meet the Architect third. Voice notes preferred, because people say more out loud than they type.