Mad Libs with a Metronome

A creative singer who writes what is in my heart.

UK based Electronic artist and producer.  Chart topper.  BBC Featured. @bluescarrmusic on Instagram. 

https://linktr.ee/bluescarrmusic



All my remixes have been approved by the author(s) of the original tunes. On the contrary of what some haters may come and tell you, about "the old lady" they would enjoy to put down. No, I don't make no profit : no account monetized, nowhere, end of the story. I'm a literature and philosophy teacher, an astrologer, for a living. I don't even mix live as a dj.

So, I remixed you and you change your mind on it for some (bad!) reason ? Please contact me and I'll delete right away what I did. Kindly, namaste 🙏🏽💜✨

My Rapnotech remixes, the playlist -> https://on.soundcloud.com/bL2teS9UQeKBxImYaM 🎵🔥

Unapologetically HER, the playlist -> https://on.soundcloud.com/NsTxljxI4rZM7wrpK0 💅🏼✨

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.

Je vous présente : "CRIME SCENE DO NOT …"
qui comme son nom l'indique ( ou pas ) est un album de chansons françaises " érotico-socio-balnéaires " .
à consommer sans modération !
à écouter et ou télécharger sur :
deezer : http://www.deezer.com/album/6744592
amazon :http://www.amazon.fr/dp/B00DRUOCCC
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/fr/album/crime-scene-do-not/id669696175 
spotify: https://open.spotify.com/intl-fr/album/0u5ei9w4NeCNPDYGNKzRfY?si=p_8b-63TRZOPly63hqAiAA


et toutes les plateformes de téléchargement légal ...

Bonne écoute, avec toute mon amitié .

Born in 1980 under the name KRT, the band began its journey in the raw energy of live shows — in Spain, including a memorable concert in Burgos, and in Brussels at the Teatro. Those early years, intense and furious, were wiped away overnight: all archives, tapes, posters, and memories stolen in a single car theft, as if someone had tried to erase history itself.

By the late ’80s and early ’90s, the group found shelter in the former RKM studio on Avenue Molière in Brussels, under the demanding ear of artistic producer Jean-Claude Maury. From those sessions emerged Fast Beat and The Ballad of the Mouse and the Bird, defining tracks that carved NUR’s sound into stone — dark, restless, untamed.

After a split and years of silence, the band resurfaced under the name NUR, carried this time by the new promise of the digital age. The music could no longer be erased; it was destined to survive.

But fate struck again: the passing of one of the founding members closed the collective chapter. Today, NUR rises once more, as a solo incarnation. More than a project: a resurrection. A flame still burning, more than forty years after its first spark.

Making music in my bedroom with guitars, MPCs, plugins, and cheap synths. Big fan of quartal harmony and Stratocasters.

Gbenga is an artist hailing from South London. 

Influenced by Kendrick Lamar, Sampha & Kanye West, his top-tier lyricism, virtuosic microphone command, and sharp conceptual vision consolidate his musical journey.

Mad Libs with a Metronome

blorgpulkfplorksickle