Welcome to the waters where the tides carry stories instead of ships. Mermaid Music & Ocean Songs is a collection of dreamy ballads, haunting melodies, playful sea shanties, and cinematic adventures inspired by the mysteries of the deep. Here you'll meet mermaids, sailors, sirens, pirates, sea witches, forgotten kingdoms, lonely lighthouses, hidden coves, and creatures that probably shouldn't exist—but thankfully do. Some songs are peaceful enough to drift away with, others are full of adventure, and a few may leave you wondering whether that voice calling from the waves is a friend... or a very persuasive mistake. So kick off your boots, breathe in the salt air, and dive beneath the surface. The water's lovely. We make no guarantees about what follows you back to shore. 🌊🧜‍♀️Â
Some songs begin with a melody. This one began with a person.
Song Beneath the Tides was inspired by my dear friend Rebecca, who is, without question, the closest thing to a real mermaid I've ever known. She has a heart that belongs to the sea, and it wasn't difficult to imagine her beneath the waves, joining a chorus of voices that has echoed through the ocean since long before sailors first told tales of mermaids.
From the beginning, I envisioned this piece as a four-part harmony sung by mermaids themselves. It was originally intended to be performed entirely a cappella, allowing the voices to rise and fall like the tides. In the end, I added just a touch of gentle instrumentation—not to take center stage, but to support the harmonies like the quiet movement of the sea beneath them.
This isn't a song about mermaids as much as it is a song from them. If you listen closely, perhaps you'll hear Rebecca's spirit somewhere among the voices... singing with the tide.
Some songs never really leave you. This is one of mine.
She Went With the Tide is my personal favorite of every song I've created for Edenglow, and the one I return to more often than any other. There's something about its quiet melancholy that has always felt like home.
The story unfolds through the eyes of someone standing on the shore, watching a young woman disappear into the sea after answering the irresistible call of the mermaids. Whether she was a dear friend, a sister, or the love of the narrator's life is left deliberately unanswered. I wanted every listener to decide that part for themselves, because the loss feels different depending on who she was to you.
But the story doesn't end with her departure.
As the song unfolds, it becomes clear that the one left behind can hear the call as well. The same mysterious voices that drew her beneath the waves are beginning to whisper to them, too. They fight the pull, torn between the life they've always known and the haunting promise of whatever waits beyond the horizon. In the end, the question isn't simply why she left—it's whether anyone who hears the mermaids' song can resist it forever.
Like so many old legends, She Went With the Tide leaves its ending just beyond the edge of certainty. Sometimes the most haunting stories are the ones that trust the listener to decide what happened after the music faded.
Some songs are written for entertainment. Others become a declaration.
Saltwater Crown is one of the most personal songs I've ever created, and one that features my own voice. While it takes place in the world of mermaids and moonlit seas, its heart is rooted in something far more human.
The story follows a woman who finally answers the irresistible call of the sea. But this isn't a tale of escape—it is a story of transformation. From her new life beneath the waves, she looks back at a world that diminished her, silenced her, and expected her to remain small. Instead, she discovers her own strength and refuses to surrender it ever again.
The chorus says everything I hoped the song would become:
You can kneel or you can drown...
I don't come back to the sound
of a world that pushed me down.
I wear the Saltwater Crown.
To me, the Saltwater Crown isn't simply something a mermaid wears. It's a symbol of reclaiming your own voice, your own worth, and your own story. It represents the moment you stop asking permission to exist and begin standing firmly in the person you've become.
Musically, I wanted the song to feel powerful, mysterious, and just a little unsettling—part oceanic ballad, part gothic anthem. The sea isn't portrayed as a place of loss, but of rebirth. Sometimes becoming who you're meant to be requires leaving behind the version of yourself the world expected you to remain.
If She Went With the Tide is about hearing the call, Saltwater Crown is about finally answering it—and never looking back.
Not every warning comes from superstition. Sometimes it comes from someone who's heard the voices himself.
Don't Listen After Midnight takes the mermaid legend in a different direction, blending it with the grit and storytelling of outlaw country. Sung from the perspective of a weary man who's heard his own name carried across the water in the dead of night, the song is less about monsters than it is about temptation. He knows the voices are beautiful. He knows they promise peace, freedom, and everything he's ever longed for. He also knows that if he follows them to the shore... he isn't coming back.
Rather than pleading with the listener, he's trying to convince himself. Every chorus is both a warning and a battle against the pull growing stronger with each passing night. Is he protecting others from the mermaids... or reminding himself why he must stay away?
The outlaw country style gives the song the feeling of an old cautionary tale passed from one generation to the next—something that might be sung in a weathered coastal tavern by a man who's seen things he'd rather forget. Whether the voices belong to mermaids, ghosts, or something even older is left for the listener to decide.
Just one piece of advice, though...
If you hear your name carried across the water after midnight... don't answer. 🌙🌊