Chrysalis II: Rebirthing Songs with AI and Soul

From analog archives to algorithmic alchemy—how one artist’s decades-old demos are finding new life through AI collaboration in the TATANKA soundscape

“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”
— William Faulkner

Note from Human Editor

Chrysalis II is my sophomore effort at true AI-human music development. For TATANKA, the past twelve months have been typical collaboration with AI so I could logistically create music without the luxury of a full band, for potential talent, partners, and audience. It’s been a wildly diverse ride, one that intentionally yanks my ass out of my musical comfort zones, but perfect illustrations of the wide range of genres that TATANKA’s “Orchestra Americana” will likely rehearse, perform, and record. That entire “catalog” is here: https://tatanka.site/ai-gen.

But there always has been an ulterior motive – getting back in the sonic saddle, myself. My last “human” album was my 2022 collection of “Covers,” others’ work I deconstructed/reconstructed. I’d finally built the home studio, after a self-imposed twenty-year hiatus from music in general, and although my adaptations are mine, the original songs are not. So when I began the TATANKA projects, I knew, not how, but knew that I would find a way back to traditional, human songwriting.

As I began working with “seeds” and “stems” (am I the only one who notes a strange allusion here?) more, really granular AI Gen stuff, I finally got serious with the “Adaptations” project: https://tatanka.site/adaptations. I loved it. All of it. And therein lay the seed (ahem) in black, rich soil, from which “Chrysalis” sprouted, an AI Gen experiment in which I took unfinished, instrumental, and just painfully raw and/or fucked up recordings of my original work dating back to the ‘80s and used them as stems (cough, cough), sprouting and growing into something much more, and at times, much unexpected. A fan of aleatory music, I took what the AI re-imagined and/or completed, and ran like hell with it. I’m talking scissors in hand, reckless sprinting across the classroom. And thus, “Chrysalis” put down roots: https://tatanka.site/chrysalis.

By then the writing was on the wall and the new pathway began to clear in front of me. I had to up my game. “Chrysalis II” is that next step. I will “drip market” track by track as opposed to my usual dump of hours-long epics (that I would not blame anyone for not listening to), but I remain my greatest fan (and worst critic). C2, as the kids say, are some of my older completed songs, reinvented thanks to AI. It still is in production, but I want to keep it aligned to the TATANKA ethos, an aural mosaic of diverse genres, starting with an electronic dance track, “In Cold Blood,” which I titled after listening to the playback and for whatever reason, visualizing the film. “Perry” makes a poignant cameo at the end, fittingly, in hopes the spirit of Truman Capote nods slightly in tacit approval.

So, yes, the next steps are the endgame. Feeding new originals into AI as seeds. And then, weaning myself completely off of AI, as I return to where I really should be: a human singer-songwriter. But for now, I hope you enjoy these admittedly self-indulgent pieces half as much as I did developing them.

Google’s Deep Dive Podcast: Resurrecting Legacy Music with AI—The Soulful Revival of Analog Archives

Chrysalis II: The Creative Rebirth of a Musician’s Soul

In the winding journey of artistic transformation, few stories resonate as deeply as that of an experienced musician choosing renewal over retreat. Chrysalis II is more than a personal turning point; it is a creative rite of passage. In an era defined by disruption and noise, this journey speaks to the power of reinvention, introspection, and authenticity in both art and life. The themes woven through this renaissance—emotional resilience, stylistic experimentation, and the healing force of collaboration—paint a picture of transformation that is at once intimate and universal. From the reflective solitude of songwriting to the kinetic energy of ensemble performance, each phase reveals how an artist can be reborn with deeper clarity and purpose. This article explores the layers of that metamorphosis, breaking it down into its most compelling subtopics: emotional growth, stylistic evolution, and communal synergy.

Emotional Growth: Facing the Mirror and Emerging Stronger

At the heart of any transformation lies an emotional awakening. For the protagonist of Chrysalis II, this awakening came not with applause, but with silence—the silence that follows burnout, disillusionment, and loss. Rather than run from this void, the artist chose to sit with it, mining it for truth. The result was a confrontation with identity and purpose that reframed music not as a profession but as a form of survival and soul-making. This shift in perspective created space for deeper self-reflection and redefined success not by external validation, but by inner resonance. Emotional growth became both a method and a message, turning pain into poetry and uncertainty into intention.

The artist’s willingness to unlearn and relearn—emotionally and artistically—became a gateway to healing. In this vulnerable space, music returned not as a product but as a practice, an act of daily presence and mindfulness. Lyrics that once masked emotion began to reveal it. Harmonies that once aimed to impress now sought to connect. Emotional authenticity, once a risk, became the cornerstone of the artist’s rebirth, forming a raw but resonant throughline in this new creative chapter.

This process of emotional deepening wasn’t solitary. It involved reconciling with the past: forgiving past collaborators, acknowledging old wounds, and choosing self-compassion. Out of this forgiveness came an openness to new ideas and new people. With each emotional layer peeled back, the artist moved closer to the core of their creative self—one that prioritized vulnerability, truth, and connection over perfection. This emotional foundation would become crucial as the next phase of evolution unfolded.

Stylistic Evolution: Redefining Sound Through Exploration

As emotional clarity emerged, it inevitably shaped musical direction. The artist of Chrysalis II found themselves gravitating toward textures and tonalities they once overlooked or avoided. The result was a bold fusion of minimalism, ambient soundscapes, folk storytelling, and urban textures—a sonic palette that defied genre but honored emotion. This stylistic expansion wasn’t just aesthetic; it was a declaration of freedom. By releasing the pressure to conform to commercial trends or nostalgic expectations, the artist created space for experimentation and play.

New instrumentation became a key tool in this evolution. Vintage synths, prepared piano, field recordings, and analog tape loops were used not as gimmicks but as vessels for mood and memory. Each sound was chosen with care, as if curating a sonic photo album that documented an inner world. This intentionality extended to structure: songs became less linear and more cinematic, with space for silence, breath, and surprise. The result was a body of work that invited listeners into a deeper, more immersive experience—an audio diary as much as an album.

Stylistic transformation also meant embracing new influences. The artist drew inspiration from unexpected sources: from contemporary classical to ambient dub, from South American folk to Japanese ambient jazz. This widened horizon was not about imitation but integration—absorbing these sounds and reshaping them through the lens of lived experience. In doing so, the artist crafted a new musical language: one that was multilingual in form and deeply singular in voice. This sonic shift mirrored the emotional journey, making the evolution both coherent and courageous.

Communal Synergy: Healing Through Collaboration

While emotional and stylistic transformation often begins in solitude, it reaches full expression in community. For the artist in Chrysalis II, reentering collaborative space was not just a career move—it was a spiritual one. After years of disconnection and creative fatigue, the joy of ensemble music-making returned like a tide. This new circle of collaborators wasn’t just talented—they were empathic, open, and attuned to the artist’s new wavelength. Together, they co-created not just songs, but safe spaces: studios where vulnerability was valued as much as virtuosity.

These partnerships extended beyond traditional roles. Visual artists contributed mood boards that shaped sonic tone. Poets offered lines that became refrains. Producers functioned as co-therapists, helping sculpt arrangements that honored emotional nuance. Even the audience played a role, invited into open studio sessions and asked for feedback during development. This democratized process blurred the line between creator and listener, forging a community of shared intention and shared healing.

Collaboration also became a way of restoring balance. As the artist moved beyond ego-driven performance, ensemble work allowed a return to humility, listening, and reciprocity. In shared rhythm and shared risk, the music deepened. It also expanded—geographically and culturally—into a truly collective experience. This synergy brought a new lightness to the work, proving that transformation, while rooted in personal evolution, finds its greatest fulfillment in communion with others.

The Alchemy of Renewal

Chrysalis II stands as a testament to the power of personal and artistic transformation. Through emotional honesty, stylistic boldness, and collective co-creation, one artist reshaped their relationship to music—and in doing so, created a blueprint for anyone seeking renewal in their own creative lives. The emotional journey offered depth, the stylistic exploration offered breadth, and the communal collaboration offered connection. Together, these elements formed a kind of creative alchemy, turning experience into expression and struggle into song. In a world often obsessed with reinvention as branding, Chrysalis II reminds us that the truest transformations are quiet, brave, and soulfully earned. And perhaps that is the music we need most now—music born not of spectacle, but of metamorphosis.

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Tracks

In Cold Blood (1992/2025)

Yes, the vocal track in the original is the "placeholder." We do this at times when brainstorming possible melodies. Occasionally I like the random nature and leave it as-is, "wrong" and nonsensical. The AI version is developed in all regards, telling a story I'd never have considered myself.

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Adolescent Blues

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Rotation Frustration

Intro
Tickless clocks in the marrow of dawn,
I heard the axis sigh through the floorboards.
My spine: a tuning fork for planetary grief.
No one hears the hum but me.

Verse 1
I weep in circles—elliptical tears,
Gravity whispers equations in my bones.
Each sunrise a betrayal,
Each shadow a spinning lie.

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Verse 2
My thoughts spiral in Newtonian cages,
Pendulums swinging in the back of my skull.
I scream at the corners of straight rooms,
But all walls curve like orbital fate.

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Verse 3
Doctors call it vertigo, friends call it flair,
But I feel tectonic prayers in my breath.
Even stillness is centrifugal,
And silence hisses in rotational code.

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Verse 4
My bed is a gyroscope in moonlight,
Dreams torn by equatorial winds.
Every night, I fall off the edge of belief,
Clutching invisible revolutions.

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Verse 5
I sleep with my head against sundials,
Chasing hours that melt into spin.
The clocks refuse to anchor me—
Their hands too dizzy to hold still.

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Verse 6
I’ve mapped the migraines of the cosmos,
Felt seasons migrate beneath my skin.
My veins align with meridians,
Each heartbeat an axial sin.

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Verse 7
The stars taunt me with fixed illusions,
Laughing as they twirl in disguise.
I begged Polaris for mercy,
But it turned its cold, revolving eye.

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Verse 8
Now I spin inside asylum globes,
Nurses orbit my padded sphere.
They dose me with stillness in syringes,
But I know—I know—we’re not really here.

[Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Bridge
I built a shrine of still things—
A glass of unmoving water,
An unsent letter to Copernicus,
And my own heartbeat—
counting the crimes of spin.

Chorus
Rotation Frustration
Rotation Frustration

Chorus 2 – French
Frustration de Rotation
Frustration de Rotation

Chorus 3 – German
Rotationsfrustration
Rotationsfrustration

Chorus 4 – Spanish
Frustración de Rotación
Frustración de Rotación

Chorus 5 – Russian
Фрустрация Вращения
Фрустрация Вращения

Chorus 6 – Japanese
回転のフラストレーション
回転のフラストレーション

Chorus 7 – Arabic
إحباط الدوران
إحباط الدوران

Chorus 8 – Hindi
घूर्णन कुंठा
घूर्णन कुंठा

Outro
Now I crawl inside a compass,
Waiting for the needle to weep.
When the world forgets to turn,
Only then will I sleep.

Sound Effect by freesound_community from Pixabay

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Chrysalis II: Room 215 (1994) – The Last Light Leaves the Room (2025)

Room 215 (1994)

(JJ: Drums, bass, guitars, keys and vocals)

Hear once again
For our time is growing short
And I’ll pretend that it’s okay
As we go our separate ways

And the hurt I made inside you
Binds and grinds you down
With the love I made inside you
Find some common ground

Don’t look away

We need to see Room 215

JJ’s note: I cheated on her. Yes, I learned my lesson. Room 215 was where we… fell in love. We did return, in our way, but I never forgot that infidelity is forever.

The Last Light Leaves the Room (2025)

[Verse 1]
We spoke in falling feathers
The hush between the lines
Where meaning slipped through fingers
Like smoke from tangled pines

[Pre-Chorus]
No thunder marked the turning
No fracture in the seam
Just petals losing color
Inside a quiet dream

[Chorus]
Don’t turn your eyes
From what the dusk became
Even love that disappears
Still whispers out your name

[Verse 2]
We danced on brittle branches
Still swaying with the breeze
Each step a slow surrender
To time’s unraveled ease

[Pre-Chorus]
No edges sharp with anger
No final cry for grace
Just shadows softly trading
Their place with light’s embrace

[Chorus]
Don’t turn your eyes
From what the dusk became
Even love that disappears
Still whispers out your name

[Verse 3]
We watched the colors fading
From walls that held our spring
The echoes barely reaching
What used to make us sing

[Pre-Chorus]
No clock could stall the quiet
No hand could hold the flame
Just pages gently closing
On words we never claimed

[Chorus]
Don’t turn your eyes
From what the dusk became
Even love that disappears
Still whispers out your name

[Verse 4]
We gave no grand surrender
No vows we couldn’t keep
Just wandered off like rivers
That disappear in sleep

[Bridge]
And if the stars remember
The bloom before the fall
Let them carry what we were
Beyond the curtain’s call

[Final Chorus]
So close the door
But leave the window wide
The last light leaves the room
But never says goodbye

Part II

[Verse 1]
You live in certain gestures
In moments left unsaid
In rain against the window
And books we never read

[Pre-Chorus]
No thunder marked the turning
No fracture in the seam
Just petals losing color
Inside a quiet dream

[Chorus]
Don’t turn your eyes
From what the dusk became
Even love that disappears
Still whispers out your name

[Verse 2]
I trace you in the stillness
Where shadows fold the air
No sorrow sharp or heavy—
Just knowing you’re not there

[Pre-Chorus]
No edges sharp with anger
No final cry for grace
Just shadows softly trading
Their place with light’s embrace

[Chorus]
Don’t turn your eyes
From what the dusk became
Even love that disappears
Still whispers out your name

[Verse 3]
The seasons move without you
But sometimes when they change
I catch the scent of something
Too delicate to name

[Pre-Chorus]
No clock could stall the quiet
No hand could hold the flame
Just pages gently closing
On words we never claimed

[Chorus]
Don’t turn your eyes
From what the dusk became
Even love that disappears
Still whispers out your name

[Verse 4]
The past no longer haunts me
It hums beneath my skin
Like music played too softly
To hurt, but not give in

[Bridge]
And if the stars remember
The bloom before the fall
Let them carry what we were
Beyond the curtain’s call

[Final Chorus]
So close the door
But leave the window wide
The last light leaves the room
But never says goodbye

Part III

[Verse 1]
The echoes don’t grow louder
But neither do they fade
They walk the halls in silence
Like footsteps we once made

[Pre-Chorus]
No thunder marked the turning
No fracture in the seam
Just petals losing color
Inside a quiet dream

[Chorus]
Don’t turn your eyes
From what the dusk became
Even love that disappears
Still whispers out your name

[Verse 2]
I’ve dusted off the moments
And laid them side by side
They shimmer like old lanterns
With no more need to hide

[Pre-Chorus]
No edges sharp with anger
No final cry for grace
Just shadows softly trading
Their place with light’s embrace

[Chorus]
Don’t turn your eyes
From what the dusk became
Even love that disappears
Still whispers out your name

[Verse 3]
Now morning finds me softer
The ache has lost its sting
What’s left is just a whisper
Of someone who could sing

[Pre-Chorus]
No clock could stall the quiet
No hand could hold the flame
Just pages gently closing
On words we never claimed

[Chorus]
Don’t turn your eyes
From what the dusk became
Even love that disappears
Still whispers out your name

[Verse 4]
And if the sky remembers
The way we used to burn
Let stars recall the warmth
Not beg for its return

[Bridge]
And if the stars remember
The bloom before the fall
Let them carry what we were
Beyond the curtain’s call

[Final Chorus]
So close the door
But leave the window wide
The last light leaves the room
But never says goodbye

Outro

Still echoes in the quiet
Still dances in the dim
Still lingers in the spaces
Where we learned to begin

Still echoes in the quiet
Still dances in the dim
Still lingers in the spaces
Where we learned to begin

Still echoes in the quiet
Still dances in the dim
Still lingers in the spaces
Where we learned to begin

Still echoes in the quiet
Still dances in the dim
Still lingers in the spaces
Where we learned to begin