Music video @ YouTube : https://youtu.be/x4Zw3ZyGWN8

Underground glide: hypnotic bass, mythic textures, late‑night focus.
Psychedelic grit, lucid groove—this is your night drive ritual.
Deep, evolving, peak‑ready. Follow the thread across the dunes.

Stream / download / buy ➜
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https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
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https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
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The Story  ᓚᘏᗢ  ➜
I. The Pleat That Begins the World
The horizon in the country of Lysara was not a line. It was a garment: pleated, hemmed, basted with light. On dawnless nights—when the sky refused to choose a color—the folds breathed like the chest of some sleeping titan. Valleys rose where a crease deepened; seas settled where a tuck relaxed. It was the work of the Foldweavers to keep those seams from unspooling.

Nerith was a Foldweaver by birth and a Cartogram by vow. No one in Lysara was simply one thing. Nerith’s body was a lattice of spore-silk and glassy tendon, translucent enough that starlight could write notes along the bones. A corona of minute fungi circled their head like a slow storm, gills opening and closing with thoughts. When they spoke, the words arrived as soft contrails of light that took a few heartbeats to evaporate.

They lived within a city that looked like a polished conch and sounded like footprints on snow. Streets curved and returned to themselves; stairs curled inward like a spiral galaxy. In every house, a brass aperture faced the horizon so residents could watch the world being folded, refolded, hemmed again.

On the night the trouble began, every aperture turned opaque at once. The garment of the world shivered. A pleat near the western reach—called the Farthest Pleat—slackened. Wind forgot which way to go. Birds of glass, which only flew along the strain of a seam, dropped and drifted like ash.

Nerith’s fungi-storm thrummed with tiny vowels. The Mycelial Conclave kindled a beam to the high vault, summoning the Order. Inside the summoning light, glyphs poured like silver rain—edicts, coordinates, a single imperative: Refasten the Farthest Pleat; carry the bone-chime that rings by not ringing.

Nerith cupped the unchime, a loop of fossilized marrow that kept silence so deep it seemed to pull echoes toward it and dissolve them. It was said that if the unchime were ever struck, it would end the practice of distance. Valleys would be elbows; skies would be knees. No one had ever been that lonely or that brave.

Beyond the city, the first path waited: a plain of lampcaps, mushrooms tall as obelisks, their caps lacquered with frost-fire. Each lampcap was a custodian of one word. If you strung their words in order, you could read your fortune and mislay your fear.

Nerith set out.

II. Lampcaps and the Grammar of Roads
The lampcaps woke as Nerith approached—first a pulse like a heart, then a voice like a bell under lakewater. Mycelial whiskers teased the air and inscribed rings around Nerith’s ankles. The road revealed itself in syllables.

Continues on the website.


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Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
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Bell of Unspoken Distances | Trippy Music Video on YouTube

Dig the tunes? Check out trippy music videos: https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum

Website or Instagram for booking.

Need change - going into the depths.

Techno, Trance, Psytech, Psytrance, and other liquid psychedelic music is where I'm the happiest but I do love a lot of Latin, Tribal, Trip Hop, Lofi, Chillhop so occasionally I'll release something off-beat.

------ Past-Tense Shenanigans ------

Born in the dust-filled vibes of a ‘90s apartment, Grass Patch Bum started spinning records back when vinyl was king and internet cafes were revolutionary. Armed with a crate of vinyl, Grass Patch Bum dived headfirst into underground raves and sweaty house parties, learning the art of blending beats on turntables and (eventually) the "futuristic" CDJs. But the journey didn't stop there.

After taking a hiatus to dive into the world of FL Studio and dissect the mechanics of production, Grass Patch Bum came back stronger, with a repertoire of original sounds and the technical chops to match. Fast forward, and they've turned dancefloors upside down from Thailand to Vietnam, Bali to the heart of Europe. Now, powered by Ableton Live and a creative arsenal that refuses to stay in one genre, Grass Patch Bum weaves sonic journeys that blend groove, grit, and just a sprinkle of nostalgia for the good ol' days.

Catch him live for a taste of nostalgia, modern beats, Latin grooves, electronic melodies, and a wide range of liquid sounds. Whether it's a tropical beach in Thailand or an underground club in Berlin, Grass Patch Bum brings thems booty movements like no other.