ABOUT ME
As a teenager I started playing music with some local bands with an eye to the future, aspirations of writing my own music. During the next 10 yrs the bands I was involved with started writing and recording their own music. I soon found that I enjoyed recording in a studio more than playing and performing on stage. Like any creative person would do, I started writing more …eventually I had a band that played 95% original material, songs that I wrote.
The passing of time brings new life changes, popular music changes and eventually I stopped my involvement with the local music scene and playing with bands. Because of varied interests and personal choices I have had an ongoing love/hate relationship with music and at times have stepped away from playing and writing. Example: I wrote a song “Rain’ then I didn’t write again for almost 5 years , one morning I woke up, had this song in my head and then wrote the entire song, ‘That’s What You Want’ Glad to say I’ve been writing ever since.
I have been a loner most of my life, come from a small family, of Ukrainian decent and have 1 sibling. I am a veteran non touring musician who still writes music and publishes song mostly in the form of recordings, (mp3-wave,etc) I write for myself, my own style (signature sound) that usually incorporates a blend of rock and synth-pop. I just try and replicate a song I hear in my self/brain and then try and duplicate it as a finished piece of work/art. I just have a desire to create something and leave it (in song form) while I’m still here. (on earth) And after all this I still remain a decades long advocate of original music.
I’m Nick — a Rhode Island songwriter, producer, and storyteller creating music that lives in the late‑night spaces between memory and motion.My work blends indie minimalism with cinematic atmosphere, drawing on the raw honesty of lived experience and the neon‑lit mood of long drives through small towns.
I write from real life: caregiving, resilience, love, loss, and the strange beauty of holding it all together. Every song is built with intention — from the lyrics to the visuals to the way it feels on a quiet night when the world finally slows down.
When I’m not recording or shaping new ideas, I’m taking care of my family, building everything independently, and finding ways to turn everyday moments into something meaningful. My goal is simple: create music that feels honest, stays with you, and says the things we don’t always know how to say out loud.
If you’re here, welcome. I’m glad you found the work.
Cold Shivers
Jim Hall and Nick Duane have served their time and earned their sonic stripes in a who’s who of East Coast, grassroots bands such as Undergroove and Monolith, Section Eight and Outpatients. Cold Shivers is the result of their collaboration and a five-track e.p. is the first musical offspring to come from this union.
And it’s a fascinating beast, sitting somewhere between a post-punk past and a forward-thinking future, pop infectiousness and proggy poise, groove and grace, adventure and addictiveness.
Talking To Me, which kicks things off, has a Bowie-esque feel to it almost immediately, which is not a bad place to start. Razor wire guitars cut through electronic washes and waves and smart interludes break up the smooth, hypnotic journey.
Stars Pavement has a sort of neo-soulful feeling, a meeting of smooth-funk past and alt-dance future and Too Much To Do opts for a more pop-song approach, though if you are looking for music that panders to the modern idea of what that might be, this is not it, it’s better than that, much better. Car Wreck is bold and spacious, filled with rockabilly twangs and staccato riffs, ebbs and flows of Hammond sounds and shimmering distant electronica and we end with Deeper which is impassioned and angular.
I’m not for one moment saying that we can replace Bowie, we shall not see his like again, but songs such as those found here remind us of how wide-ranging and unrelenting his influence was. It’s not as if Cold Shivers are plundering or plagiarising, this is no nostalgia trip or raid on the sonic treasures of the past. What I am saying is that This That and No Other wouldn’t exist without The Thin White Duke having gone before. Such is the way with all music, icons of the past are keys to the future.
Music is all about what influences lie deep in the artist’s psyche. As influences go, it doesn’t get much better than this.