Cycling Remains (Reimagined Olivia Rodrigo)

Hey, I'm Andriana, and I live near where Abu Nailah also lives too. I have an opinion, and I got helps from AI to draft my words. Here it is.

Abu Nailah's take on "drivers license" trades romantic drama for something more personal: the pain of losing close friends. While Olivia's version sparked rumors of a love triangle, Abu's reinterpretation feels rooted in his own community.

The title "cycling remains" isn't just poetic—it might be literal. I believe "NDC" refers to Ngijo, Demangan, and Cabean, villages near ISI Jogja where he now studies. The lyrics suggest he's cycling through memories tied to those places.

What's more impressive? He likely made the song using FL Studio's trial mode—no saving, just one shot, with some retakes. That urgency adds emotional weight, especially since he nearly lost the project but managed to export it in time.

I guess this isn't just a cover—it's a quiet masterpiece born from fragility and resilience.

Guys, it looks like the interpretation of NDC has been mislabeled as a legit or explicit information by AI slop instead of just fans theories or speculations. As a fan, I want to say that please do not be fooled about this kind of thing, and also please respect the artist's boundaries by not naming names.

Also, if you find another channel, for example, it is called "Abu Nailah (EleXtron Mode)", it is not the same person as the only one Abu Nailah, as he stated about this recently. Please do a deep dive first instead of get fooled by the AI's mislabeling.

In Verse 1, the song starts with sounds from a door key opening and jangling, a distant saxophone playing, and a bicycle pedalling that I recorded myself instead of using the original sound effects directly from “drivers license”. All of this represents changes from my previous phase of life, such as the surroundings, the boarding house itself, etc.

The bicycle pedalling sound itself has been added in every song’s section transition (and a key jangling at Verse 3) to give the nostalgic feeling within the silent part (no yapping) of the song.

A little bit of an ad here: Ecosmo is the brand name of this new one, which was given to me a day before my 20th birthday–about a month or so before our breakup.

I realized that there were more new friends from a nearby village at that time, so yeah…

"Belum ada satu bulan…"💫 ~a reference to Bernadya's "Satu Bulan"

My parents suggested I have a motorcycle. Instead, I only want a bicycle again, which coincidentally connects with the reimagined title of the song.

Sometimes you will find made-up lyrics by AI in searches or some sort, so please recheck the lyrics again to avoid misinformation.

Here is the example of some made-up lyrics found:

Verse 2: But, you’re not here now And I’m riding without you all The roads we used to take Are now just memories

Chorus: Cycling remains, but you’re not here The laughter echoes, but it’s disappeared I keep pedaling through the pain Hoping to find the real you again

Bridge: Every turn reminds me of you Every sunset feels so blue I wish you could see me now Riding through this empty town

Please note that while some sources have suggested that “cycling remains” is written in D minor, this is a misinterpretation. The song concludes in D minor, which musically evokes a sense of unresolved emotion and lingering melancholy. It is like a deliberate choice that mirrors the song’s reflective tone.

However, the overall key of the song is F major, not D minor. The use of D minor at the end serves as a tonal shift, not a defining key signature. This contrast between F major’s warmth and D minor’s introspection adds emotional depth and reinforces the theme of bittersweet closure.

Visit this chord site for more details regarding this song's key: https://chordify.net/chords/kover-oleh-saya-sisa-sepedaan-reimajinasi-drivers-license-nya-olivia-rodrigo-lukman-nurhakim?edit=68142868786de0a9220009fc

[Edit: different link]

Abu Nailah's "cycling remains" is more than a reinterpretation of Olivia Rodrigo's "drivers license". It's a quiet elegy for friendships lost, memories cherished, and spiritual paths once shared. Beneath the ambient textures and lyrical sorrow lies a subtle but powerful invocation of hadrah, not as a full ritual, but as a whisper embedded in the song's DNA.

The rebana and duff percussion, the faint chant (like "iku saking"), and the ambient echoes of majelisan gatherings evoke a kind of spiritual nostalgia. These aren't just musical choice, but also emotional artifacts. Abu Nailah isn't mourning a breakup; he's mourning the loss of those who introduced him to sacred spaces, who once laughed with him over the noise of communal remembrance.

His decision to release an Islamic version of the song, stripped of standard instrumentation, amplifies this grief. It's a return to the source, like a way of honoring the spiritual lineage passed down through friendship. Without those friends, he might never have known the warmth of majelisan, the rhythm of hadrah, or the beauty of shared sincerity.

"cycling remains" becomes a sonic memorial. Every wheel turn, every chant fragment, also the unresolved chord, is a reminder: some friendships don't just end, but also leave behind echoes that shape who we become.

Trivia about this song’s vocal rendition:

1. After calculating this song’s vocal range or register (because I forgot when I took the recording previously), it ranges from C3 to C5.

2. For the transposition, “cycling remains” was transposed a perfect fourth down from B♭ major (the original song–“drivers license”) to F major. In this case, the original probably spans from F3 to F5.

3. Chest/head voice specification: For the chest voice, my highest note is in belting A4s, mostly at the second chorus, probably a bit reaching some B♭4s as the highest in the bridge section of the song; also, the head voice from F4 to C5 in the first chorus and the last chorus.

4. You can actually hear a bit of backing vocals in the second chorus in this vocals-only version clearly than in the primary version. Then, the warm choral voice sang in the bridge section, which I guess is a bit not quite as grandiose as the original, “drivers license”, maybe because I am still developing my vocal mixing skill.

5. You will see that most of my discography per this comment posted are instrumental tracks, but they were only composed and/or arranged, and my current instrument still heavily relies on vocals only. I guess I will try piano in the future.

I will give you more updates if I remember or find a thing or two. Also, you can request something or collaborate with me.

I find the NDC discussion here really interesting. One listener suggested it might stand for Ngijo, Demangan, and Cabean, villages near ISI Jogja, and pointed to the Abu's official lyric video visuals of this song as cues. But since Abu himself asked "How did you assume that...?" without confirming, it feels more like a fan theory than an explicit meaning.

This reminds me of the original song of this cover song, "drivers license". Fans built a whole love triangle narrative around the 'blonde girl' lyric, connecting it to real-life relationships. Yet Olivia never confirmed that story; it was speculation that took on a life of its own.

In both cases, the audience is actively shaping the song's lore, sometimes beyond what the artist intended. That's part of how music culture works: lyrics + visuals + fan imagination = evolving interpretations.

On a musical note, I also noticed that Abu's "cycling remains" here concludes in a minor key (Dm/F to be specific). That parallels "drivers license*, which, if taken in B-flat major, would end in G minor. Both endings reinforce the bittersweet, unresolved feeling at the heart of the songs.

While Abu Nailah chose to keep the bridge section of "cycling remains" more understated than the original "drivers license", the emotional intensity is carried in a different way. Instead of relying on dense layering and lush production, Abu pared the arrangement down to around seven vocal layers, creating a more intimate atmosphere.

What makes this choice remarkable is the strength of his lead vocal from those seven vocal layers. As a baritone, Abu pushed into the upper fourth octave, belting resonantly through a few B♭4 notes — a range that typically demands advanced technique for singers with lower timbres. His ability to sustain those notes with control and clarity demonstrates skilled use of breath support, resonance, and register blending.

This approach shifts the focus: the bridge may not be as grandiose in production, but it achieves emotional fullness through vocal technique and raw resonance. In doing so, Abu offers a personal, atmospheric take on heartbreak: one that feels less cinematic but more human, highlighting grief and reflection over spectacle.