Very eerie mysterious ambience, great track!

Anders2

Kingdom of the Mind

Tenebris

Primordium 3.

Higher

Traces

空から地上を透視すれば
街路も村道も鉄道も産業道路も生活道路も
白墨で描いたような無数の薄白い軌道が重なり
切り刻まれ、ささくれだっている
仕事、買い物、旅行、配達、徘徊、逃走、探索、追跡
人と動物と物が動きまわった痕跡は消えることがないが
わたしの足跡と自転車の車輪が描く軌道を見分けることはできない

Seeing through the ground from the sky.
Streets, village roads, railways, industrial roads, and community roads are all full of traces like pale tracks drawn with chalk.
The ground is like a wall with doodles.
Work, shopping, traveling, deliveries, wandering, escaping, searching, or being tracked.
Traces of moving about of humans, animals, and objects never disappear.
I cannot find my footsteps and ruts of my bike from traces interwining each other on the ground.


Traces

Just some more solo stuff...
Just kinda floating around at the moment.
Find peace and rest when you can. Believe in it when you cannot. 

Covalent Bond

October 30, 2025
I thank the people at King Crimson for doing the dishes for me ;)

FOR MY FRIENDS

A collaborative work by Babacane (https://soundcloud.com/babacane) and FaceOnFigure
----------------
The Ab'us trial
----------------
In the innermost sanctum of certain temples there's a pool in which the darkness resides, ever pulsing, ever in flux. When one's life cycle is about to reach its end, they are offered the Ab'us trial, a ceremonial confrontation with the void.
Entering the sanctum, leaving the crutches of religious practices behind, they are given the chance to engage in battle with the dark unknown.
The abyss reacts with menacing pulses, periodically pushed back by the unique harmonies of the participant's spirit, a back and forth culminating in the vocal manifestation of the person's innermost wish to end the battle, either by domination or with a truce.
Hence this incantation is unique for each individual, aggressive and threatening for some, calming and harmonious for others, based on the characteristics of their spirit.
If the battle is unsuccessful, the participant's soul is dissolved in white noise, their spirit put to sleep until their cycle can start anew.
If the individual manages to forge a harmonious cooperation with the darkness, together they reach the Plane of Rest, a place void of earthly thoughts and desires.
The harmonies and beats of the spirit merge with the tamed pulses and noises of the abyss, taking the form of unique and improvisative music in which the spirit can rest until they are ready to continue their journey.
Moving on to a destination of their own choice, freely travelling across the vast oceans of white noise, with the darkness as their companion.

- 0.00 - 0.40 -- introduction to the sounds of the abyss
- 0.40 - 0.55 -- the participant enters the sanctum, a bell sound signals the start of the confrontation
- 0.55 - 1.10 -- the abyss is alerted by the presence and reacts to it in the form of distorted sounds
- 1.10 - 1.35 -- the participant moves closer and challenges the abyss
- 1.35 - 2.05 -- the first push
- 2.05 - 2.35 -- the abyss reacts with strong pulses
- 2.35 - 3.05 -- a sharper and harsher second push, aiming to cut and wound the darkness
- 3.05 - 3.15 -- the darkness is weaker and pushed back
- 3.15 - 4.00 -- the incantation as the final blow, words offering the choice of cooperation or defeat
- 4.00 - 4.25 -- the dark pulse is disjointed, a bell sound signals the end of the confrontation
- 4.25 - 4.50 -- the last, mellow push, offering a hand to the defeated opponent
- 4.50 - 5.00 -- the darkness yields
- 5.00 - 9.00 -- the well deserved rest after the confrontation
---------------------------------------------------------------

The Ab'us trial

The Universe Will Respond

The Narcotic and the Sacred

Let the Season slow your heart.

In a world where flora evolved to think and remember, a lone being known as the Verdant ascended from the soil to commune with the orchid — the most ancient and sentient of all plants. The orchid was said to store echoes of every living creature that had ever inhaled its scent, a biological archive of consciousness itself. As the Verdant pressed its lips to the bloom, not to eat but to listen, memories poured into it like sunlight through glass — wars, love songs, storms, the sound of rain on extinct oceans.

Orchideater

Prelude 2.  GNF

Zanobi  liquid

Rhea

A nice zombie who honors the moment does not allow himself to be terrorized by the future and the past. While two guardian spirits shield him from good advice.

All tracks and Images by Heinz Kobalt  and Artificial Intelligence.

I was trained in tradition, yet I stepped beyond its walls. Sound is my language, not to decorate but to liberate. Composer, performer, and listener — one fire, three sparks, inseparable.

I write and compose to uncover what is hidden: the truth buried beneath power, the dignity of the ordinary, the current of awareness that flows through all.

I belong to no authority, only to sound, to truth, to the silence from which all begins. My work is not mastery, but remembrance — a manifesto in every note, every word, every breath.

I am a composer of the 21st century: a studio artist. The studio is my forge, my battlefield, my sanctuary. Machines hum like choirs, circuits burn like torches, cables twist like roots in the earth. Tradition breaks open in this fire — the score turns to light, the instrument becomes the world itself.

To be a studio artist is to seize sound at its rawest, to sculpt electricity and breath as one, to summon the invisible power that belongs to all. Here music is not bound by walls, not enslaved by profit, not tamed by form. It is free, untouchable, unending — a living flame for the century that is ours.

Prelude 2. GNF

Anthony Cutrera Morales

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