Harder, faster, more violent, the ghost returns.

Dr0pit

Drop it (Reload)

The finale, loose, raw, freestyle energy rising like spirits, trap bleeding into eternity.

Belly-Trap-Dancer

I’m the Ghost… in the Shell surfaces as one of Dark Earl’s most intimate transmissions. For years she ignored the private messages, the countless men asking for love, attention, or a piece of her mystery. Silence was her answer, until now. In this rare unreleased version, she finally replies through sound.

Her voice folds into minimal techno like a coded confession. The lyrics are not declarations of romance but a spectral mirror: human desire against alien emptiness, longing against algorithm. Every line feels like an echo trapped in circuitry, as if Sedna herself were speaking back to Earth.

This is not comfort. It is clarity. Dark Earl reveals the fracture between flesh and machine, between the warmth fans search for and the cold pulse she inhabits. I’m the Ghost… in the Shell is her answer to the messages she never sent.

I’m the Ghost… in the Shell

I’m the Ghost… in the Shell returns in a rare Breakbeat minimal cut, uniting Dark Earl, Lotus Pastel, and Ghost of Maya for the first time on record. Their friendship has stretched for years, crossing paths in shadows and echoes, but never converging in one song until now.

Here the beat sharpens, stripped down to raw pulse, carrying three voices that weave into each other like fragments of the same dream. Dark Earl’s alien confession meets Lotus Pastel’s spectral warmth and Ghost of Maya’s elusive presence. Together they shape a track that feels at once fragile and unstoppable, an answer not just to messages but to history itself.

This meeting is more than collaboration. It is resonance, the long-awaited alignment of three hidden worlds.

Dark Earl, Lotus Pastel, and Ghost of Maya chose to merge because they share the same vision: that their presence is not to be consumed as biography, but to be lived as art.

This collaboration is an indirect reply to the curiosity of fans. Not everything must be known, verified, or exposed. Their existence is a personal matter, their names only roles inside a wider universe. What matters is the message: sound as a mirror, art as the only truth.

I’m the Ghost… in the Shell (feat. Lotus Pastel, Ghost of Maya)


J’ai bu ton nom is the first absurd anthem from Intolérence. OldNEO’s fractured electronics meet Bob Salim’s voice in a strange ritual where words lose their meaning and sound becomes intoxication. It is not about logic. It is about delirium, obsession and the pleasure of breaking language apart until only rhythm remains.

Intolérence is born from the encounter between Moroccan DJ OldNEO and French singer Bob Salim. Two voices from different horizons, united by a need to break through limits.

OldNEO carries the weight of heritage, bending Andalusian echoes and classical muwashshah into electronic landscapes built on breakbeat, darkcore, and drum & bass. Bob Salim brings a sharp French lyricism, a voice that cuts between chant and poetry, intimate and violent at the same time.

Their music is not polite. It grows from conflict, from the refusal of silence, from the fracture between cultures and generations. Intolérence crafts soundscapes where Arabic modes and French words face each other, overlap, and collide.

The result is raw, unsettling, and magnetic. A band that does not hide behind masks, but steps forward with noise, tension, and beauty, uncompromising and direct.

J’ai bu ton nom

Hello Grey! is Lotus Pastel at its most enigmatic. Words spill like fragments of an absurd philosophy, half chaotic, half prophetic, where hidden truths hide in nonsense. The song plays with shadows and riddles: who is Grey, and why does his name echo in the title? No answer is given. Instead, the track leaves a trail of questions, absurd and luminous, a signature of Lotus Pastel’s universe where chaos itself becomes meaning.

Hello Grey!

Drive To Infinity opens a new chapter for Lo-Feelers, a collection where sound speaks louder than words. Guided by Agogosax and Midi14, the track moves with a quiet pulse of jazz and lo-fi textures, a journey that feels endless yet intimate. Anissa Boualem’s voice drifts in only to whisper the title, answered by a choir repeating “music… music…” like a mantra. The rest is left to instruments, space and silence.

Drive To Infinity

The Myth brings The Bartenders and Emma Hope into a space where verse and sound move together. The text is written less as a story than as fragments of reflection, moving between images of love, time, and the cycles of existence. The delivery is closer to spoken cadence than to song, touched by Emma Hope’s voice that carries both clarity and restraint.

The music remains understated, shaped to hold the words rather than overwhelm them. It opens a quiet frame where language becomes texture, and where meaning is left deliberately unresolved.

The Myth

remixed tunes from "meditation through a language I don't understand" 

Ive played this out in my head as a texturally intense journey of confronting yourself through meditation in amongst the scenes of the sentiment "eat sleep rave repeat". 

the spiritual cyber punk rave bae goes sonically wild, three remixes of the same tune with minor differences, old tunes but important sounds.  I hope you enjoy and I hope it sort of hurts your ears  xoxoxo

J’ai bu ton nom

90dB Project