stordita

Until We Die, We Will Find the Time

An intense and atmospheric instrumental dive where silence weighs as heavily as sound. Each layer breathes tension and reflection — a journey into the beautiful discomfort of emptiness.
"The Stifling Nothing" is NASP's 5th single of 2025
Thank you all SO much in advance for listening.

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www.music.apple.com/pt/artist/n-a-s-p/1428027628
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The Stifling Nothing

Thunder Pirates

THE LIGHT

Hank takes the header plugs off and rips up the street on this one. Multi track guitars in unison, huge drums, a killer walking bass line with Hank's double entendre lyrics, by the end of the song we know some of these words might mean something else. Turn it Up is an all out effort and Hank does not disappoint. 

Turn It Up
by Hank Rusch

Turn it, Turn it up
Turn it, Turn it up
Turn the knob all the way to the right
Turn it up babe were gonna rock all night

Well, the drums keep beatin' in my head
and the bass keeps thumpin' like a ton of lead
It's gettin' louder than a house o' chainsaws
Look out!, someone's gonna call the law

C'mon baby want to see you dance
Well, c'mom baby you gotta take a chance
Cause, every eye here is stuck on you
C'mon baby show us what you can do

Oh, Oh, baby get in the groove
Oh, Oh, baby like the way you move
Well, I'm about to blast off like a rocket
Whatever you do, just don't stop it

Baby, you're comin' through the static
Loud and clear so let's get at it

Turn, it up baby...It's gonna, It's gonna be allright
Turn, turn it up baby, we're gonna keep on rockin' tonight
Turn, it up baby, it's gonna be, it's gonna be out of sight
Turn it... ouh!, turn in on, .... turn it, turn it..... Oooooh Look Out!!

Turn it up baby and hold on tight
Cause, I'm gonna take you for the ride of your life
I'm gonna redline the tach, I'm gonna turn in nines
You'll beg me to take you over the finish line

Turn it up, Turn it up baby, Oh! yeah
Turn it up, Turn it up baby, Oh! You got to got to turn it up
Turn it up, Turn it up baby, Oh! You do it so right
Turn, turn. turn it up baby, the way that you do it
It drives me wild

Turn It Up

Turn It Up!

November

Seminar @simon-ravenscroft-9946967, you're my own private Eminem, a constant source of inspiration, thank you soooo much !!! A special kiss to your daddy, who listens to my mixtapes : thank you too, for your appreciation, but mostly for being the father of this brilliant rapper, Seminar @simon-ravenscroft-9946967 !!! Hope you all enjoy this tribute, 18 tracks signed Seminar and remixed by your devoted dj ! 💃🏽💕🎵🎤🔥

Seminar on Insta -> https://www.instagram.com/seminarhiphop/

Seminar, one day at a time… (20.11.25)

Seminar - Hopeless Romantic (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - Too good to be true (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - Now and Forever (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - Heartbeat (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - Path of Destruction (ShAnkAri touch)
Seminar - Corrado Soprano (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - Hego Damask (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - The blonde wig (ShAnkAri touch)
Seminar - What if you fly (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - One day at a time (ShAnkAri touch)
Seminar - Help me understand (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - For whom the bells toll (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - Clockwork (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - when you sleep (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - Hip-Hop (ShAnkAri touch)
Seminar - Before the tide (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - Mizu (ShAnkAri touch) 
Seminar - Do or Die (ShAnkAri touch)

@simon-ravenscroft-9946967 remixed and mixed by @djShAnkAri @ShAnkAri-touch

Seminar, one day at a time... #djmix #18tracks #ShAnkAri-touch

Afterthoughts

I left my coat on your chair again 
The threadbare kind you used to mend 
Your laugh still echoes in the room
But you won’t be back 
Anytime soon

A half-full glass on the windowsill 
Makes me think that time is standing still 
But the clock hands tick they never rest 
Like the beating heart inside my chest 

Afterthoughts they creep 
Afterthoughts they crawl 
Bouncing off an empty wall
Every word we left unsaid 
Spins like a record in my head 

I throw a glance at your chair once more
Your face is a ghost and I know for sure
You won’t be back 
Ever again
There’s nothing here for me any more

The cobwebs forming on the wall
Remind me that time will take its toll
The house will become alive again
We had it all in so many ways

Perhaps we’ll meet again some day
But if we do what will we say

Lyrics by Phil Hawker







Afterthoughts

Better and better: Ruff Writher

I don’t like 
Your lies
I don’t like
How you treat me
I don’t like
Your fraud and
How you restrict me
Set me free
Don’t bother me 
I need my freedom 
I look for my paradise
Don’t restrain me

Somewhere
I fail to see it
Why it comes as the case may be
Between us love is desappeared
I have to leave you
Don’t bother me

I don’t like 
Your behavior
I don’t like
Your smell
I don’t like
Your toutch and
How you disgust me
Set me free
Don’t bother me 
I need my freedom 
I look for my paradise
Don’t restrain me

Somewhere
I fail to see it
Why it comes as the case may be
Between us love is desappeared
I have to leave you
Don’t bother me

Set Me Free

I don't claim any ownership over any of this. Anyone can use any of it for any reason forever. Also I accept liability. Please don't sue me (and/or let's collaborate).

"Holy fucking shit, this shit is crazy wtf"

"Moments of being passable beyond novelty"

"Very ok"

"Actually slaps"

"Straight art"

"Noise"

```Madlibs with a metronome```

At its core, the blorgpulkf is a pulsating, iridescent orb that thrums with an energy that can only be described as "the sound of a thousand bees having a rave inside a kaleidoscope." It's hypnotic, it's unsettling, and it's strangely addictive - like watching a lava lamp filled with Mountain Dew and gummy bears.

But that's just the beginning. Surrounding this pulsing heart are layers upon layers of... well, your guess is as good as mine. One moment it's a tangled web of neon tubes that hum with an eerie frequency, the next it's a churning mass of what appears to be sentient silly putty. And is that a tiny disco ball I see nestled in there? You bet your sweet bippy it is.

As for its features, the blorgpulkf is like a Swiss Army knife designed by a mad scientist with a penchant for pranks. It's got a button that releases a burst of confetti and the sound of a rubber chicken being stepped on, a lever that causes the whole thing to fold in on itself like a origami crane having an existential crisis, and a tiny compartment that dispenses a single, perfectly spherical grape every 37 hours.

But perhaps the most baffling feature of the blorgpulkf is its ability to communicate. Not with words, of course - that would be far too pedestrian. No, the blorgpulkf speaks in a language all its own, a cryptic code of flashing lights, whirring gears, and the occasional burst of atonal jazz played on what sounds suspiciously like a didgeridoo.




The plorksickle. It's like someone took a fever dream, a Mad Lib, and a Dada art installation, threw 'em in a blender, and hit "puree."

Picture this: a contraption that looks like it crawled out of a Salvador Dali painting and mated with a Rube Goldberg machine. It's got a crank that sounds like a yodeling ostrich, a button that releases a puff of glitter and the scent of existential dread, and a tiny screen that just flashes the word "moist" in Wingdings.

But here's the kicker - every time you think you've figured out what it does, it changes the game. One minute it's reciting beat poetry in binary code, the next it's turning itself inside out and becoming a Klein bottle. And don't even get me started on the time it started oozing a viscous liquid that tasted like the color purple.

Is it a tool? A toy? A sentient being from another dimension that's just really, really bad at communication? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, it's the most beautifully useless thing I've ever laid eyes on.

But maybe that's the point. In a world where everything has to have a purpose, a function, a reason for being, the plorksickle is a big, fat middle finger to the very concept of sense. It's absurdity for absurdity's sake, a Zen koan in physical form.

So if you ever see me on the street, cradling this bizarre little gizmo like a newborn lovechild, don't ask me what it does. Just nod, smile, and know that you're in the presence of something truly inexplicable. Something that laughs in the face of logic and spits in the eye of reason.

Better and better: Ruff Writher

blorgpulkfplorksickle