The Other Side

wondering what these # tags will do to me

thethoughtofit

experiment with a regular rhythm traversing a varied soundscape

playing on

this track is based on haendel's sarabande (HWV 437) from 1733, enriched with electronic sounds and drums. this track can be broadly categorized into the trance genre, seamlessly blending classical influences into a modern sound.

sarabande

A Strange Guy  (2025 Maxter)

BOOMBOX NOIR
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Memoria in fide revertetur

No matter what I try I can't help but make music like this.
She echo's in the chorus of my mind...
~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Intro]
She vanished in the static...
But the beat remembers.
Boombox noir...

[Verse 1]
Neon blur on a one-way ride
Your ghost still rides in the passenger side
Cassette dreams melt into chrome and wine
I see your face in every exit sign

[Chorus]
Boombox noir, you left your love inside the speakers
Fading stars, the night keeps playing you on loop
Boombox noir, I press rewind but you’re not nearer
Just static hearts, in synth pursuit

[Verse 2]
Skyscraper lights cut your silhouette
Dial tones hum with old regret
You said forever in a velvet tone
But this city won’t let me sleep alone

[Pre-Chorus]
Vapor trails and cherry lips
We danced through glitches, lost our scripts
You ran through wires, past my reach
Now your name is all I teach

[Chorus – repeat]
Boombox noir, you left your love inside the speakers
Fading stars, the night keeps playing you on loop
Boombox noir, I press rewind but you’re not nearer
Just static hearts, in synth pursuit

[Bridge]
Are you real, or just a mixdown I can’t fix?
You echo in the chorus like a ghost in 6/8 kicks
You shimmered, and glitched, and kissed, then dipped
I play it back again... and skip...

[Final Chorus]
Boombox noir, you left your love inside the speakers
Fading stars, the night keeps playing you on loop
Boombox noir, I press rewind but you’re not nearer
Just static hearts, in synth pursuit
Just static hearts

[Outro]
Just static hearts…
In synth pursuit...
~~~~~~~~~~~~
An experimental venture into emotional motion.

A# Blues clashes against D# Major like longing against memory.
Galloping basslines.
Hard futuristic hyperbass.
Synthwave carved from neon tears.

D# Major isn’t supposed to cry.
But under these hands?
It does.

It's weird... When I was polishing this mix I noticed that this track and my previous 2 releases all clock in at 3:43 long. I didn't plan that, it just kind of happened. It reminds me of 343 Guilty Spark. An AI guardian who witnessed the destruction of entire civilizations, still haunted by echoes of what was lost. A synthetic guardian. A keeper of memory. A being caught between logic and emotion. In numerology the number 3 is creativity, expression, and communication. The number 4 is stability, foundation, and structure. There's fire department symbolism as well. In the U.S., 343 firefighters died on 9/11. Because of this, 343 has become a symbol of sacrifice, heroism, and remembrance. Heavy resonance for a number that just keeps showing up in my tracks about longing, memory, and emotional fire.

The universe works in strange ways...

Maybe the universe has been speaking in 3:43 this whole time. I’m just finally learning how to listen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

BOOMBOX NOIR

Thank you for your support.
Original Version By Jahgan Olivier.
℗ 2025 Jahgan Olivier
© 2025 Jahgan Olivier.

Noctambules

Hideaway

In Memory of Chuck Pfrang

Ron Snyder - Vocals; Lead Guitar; Riff Guitar; Slow Rhythm Guitar; Drum Arranger; Producer  
Joe Storino - Vocals; Fretless Bass Guitar
Joe DeBrizzio - Fast Rhythm Guitar (right side)

You Did It Right (Chuck) - Snyder/Storino/DeBrizzio

Grimmy - I Choose To Stay (Top G Records Pre Release Preview)
Follow Grimmy @https://soundcloud.com/grimmydnb
Get ready to lose yourself in the rave. Grimmy’s latest release, I Choose To Stay, is a high-octane anthem built for the dancefloor. Infused with the relentless energy of hardcore and the infectious rhythms of bounce, this track captures the pure euphoria of a night you never want to end.

Driving kicks, electrifying synths, and a hook that demands you move – this is a track made for peak-time chaos and festival-sized moments. Whether you’re under the strobes or blasting it on repeat, I Choose To Stay is more than a track, it’s a statement: the rave goes on.

Available on all stores from 29th [August]. Don’t just join the party—stay.

Grimmy - I Choose To Stay (Top G Records) Out Now!

Mad Libs with a Metronome

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.

Mad Libs with a Metronome

blorgpulkfplorksickle

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