Floating dreams

Guitar Covers

Another wonderful track from the new Squanto album 'Every Night Draws the Same Crowd ' released through Fluid Audio.

www.fluidaudio.co.uk

Squanto - Like The Cold

Get 'Odyssey EP' Here

Ocean (feat Soko)

video games guitar solo

Latino - Carta De Presentación

Risk Assessment

where have you been - guitar solo

girls need love - guitar solo

stay ready - guitar solo

streets - guitar solo

From the EP 'Exodus' out December 4th 2015

Written and produced by Dream Koala
Mixed by Andrea + Dream Koala

Exodus

Dimension Sleeper

I’ve not yet had the pleasure of visiting Tblisi, Georgia, but I’m reliably informed that it is a wonderful city in a beautiful part of Europe. It’s within this context that the musically rich world of our next artist, Tblisi resident Gacha Bakradze comes to life.

Producing under both his first and his second name, the Georgian born artist and I originally connected as I was interested in creating some artwork for his latest release. I quickly found Gacha to be a charming and intelligent personality and somebody capable of making beautiful music on a daily basis - often sending me demos of unreleased material he’s working on - each sounding as beautiful as the next. With releases for R&S records, Space Hardware and Apollo records, as well as through his own imprint, Transfigured Time, already under his belt Gacha is a name to watch out for.

I spoke with him about producing a mixtape for the project and I am thrilled that he accepted the invitation. His production is varied and, from our conversations, I knew his range of influences to be broad. As a DJ playing at events and producing downtempo mixtapes for home listening I was intrigued to see in what direction he would go.

I was delighted to hear what he has produced for us, just over an hour of sonic bliss. The best thing that I can say about the mixtape is that it feels like a beautiful, brooding dream that leaves you feeling refreshed and inspired.

Keep your eyes peeled for Bakradze’s debut LP dropping in 2016.

https://soundcloud.com/gacha
https://www.facebook.com/gachamusic/

For full tracklist please visit www.metroncreativestudios.com/musik

Métron

Métron Mixtape - 011 - Gacha Bakradze

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.

Risk Assessment

blorgpulkfplorksickle