Lullaby Machine

Audio Submissions

We are currently accepting submissions of .mp3/.m4a lullabies on a rolling basis.

We welcome subjective and creative interpretations of "lullaby" from established artists and non-self-proclaimed artists alike. We like to think of "the lullaby" as a form with an expansive definition and are excited about contributions that span languages, geographies, genres, and production methods. A recorded soundscape, a rendition of a folk song, and an abstract collage of sound, for example, are all equally welcome.

While we maintain a selective review process for work submitted to our quarterly e-magazine (see below), we review all .mp3 lullaby submissions with the intention of publishing each one. As long as your contribution aligns with our community guidelines, we'll do our best to get it online as swiftly as possible.

E-Magazine Submissions

Thank you for your interest in submitting to Lullaby Machine’s quarterly e-magazine. Please see below for submission periods and guidelines.

Written work: We consider poetry, short fiction, and creative nonfiction (including interviews and reviews) that engages, however expansively or experimentally, with the threads connecting lullaby, rest, grief, dream, capitalism, ecology, and the internet. We welcome submissions that range in style and voice to offer creative and unexpected takes on the topics that Lullaby Machine explores. We encourage you to read about the project before submitting, but we hope you'll trust your own voice——we'd be equally excited to receive a poem about the weird dream you had last night as we would be to read an essay exploring barriers to rest amid racial capitalism.

Genre-Expansive work: We welcome genre-expansive submissions to the e-magazine including (but not limited to) film, visual art, and recorded dance work. Please send us your strangest, most dreamlike projects. If you have an unrealized idea for a piece you want to make for Lullaby Machine, feel free to send a pitch to lullabymachine@gmail.com.

Thematic considerations: Lullabies invite the practice of relational presence via rest. Rest invites the possibility of restoration and dream. Dreams remind us that life is liminal, reality bends, and change is possible, inevitable, and necessary.

At a global moment of suffering and restlessness born from the prioritization of capital over care, we're looking for stories that unfold in the dark of dreamtime, in the mundanity of exhaustion, and in the real or imagined rooms where lullabies are sung. We are excited to receive work that considers questions like (but not limited to):

What does it mean to rest in a world that wants us awake, productive, and sellable as much of the time as possible?

What does it feel like to stand on a stage and what does it mean to step off?

What is a liminal place and what happens there?

If you scroll far enough, where do you end up?

How do we relate to grief and death in a capitalist culture sustained by the illusion of its eternal life?

How do we take care of each other?

What could it mean to sing a lullaby in public?

Submission portal for Issue 002 will open May 1, 2025.