Servet nodded, his fingers dancing across the keys. With a sharp click of the mouse, the beat dropped. Na Na.
"It needs more grit," Ivan muttered, his voice raspy from a long night of recording. "The kind of sound that makes you remember a dream you never actually had." İvan Aslan Na Na | Prod. Servet Tunç
"Again," Ivan said, lighting a cigarette. "From the top. Let's make sure they never forget that hook." Servet nodded, his fingers dancing across the keys
He leaned over the mixing console, his eyes reflecting the jumping green levels of the monitor. Beside him, Servet Tunç—the architect of the sound—was fine-tuning a synth lead that felt like liquid gold. " Ivan muttered
The song ended, leaving a ringing silence that felt heavier than the music.