Cayito Huesooo

BLANCO Y NEGRO

DIGAN LO QUE DIGAN

// Lee.o B2B Grass Patch Bum [[Rooftop Mix]] #13 Grumpy House Grooves //

Socials - Lee.o 
               https://on.soundcloud.com/ToUfbHbb3W9SRViS9
               https://www.instagram.com/lee.o.83/

                Grass Patch Bum
                https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
                https://www.instagram.com/artsoulbrother/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=schipypuAz8

// Lee.o B2B Grass Patch Bum [[Rooftop Mix]] #13 Grumpy House Grooves

// 8U8A // [[KAOSS LIVE SESSION ROUND2]]

This weeks Grumpy House Grooves welcomes back the return of 8U8A, armed with the Korg Kaoss Pad, throws down a full live rooftop session.

Get ready for round 2 and experience a journey into raw creativity and ascend with the sounds from the filthroller 8U8A!

Socials : www.facebook.com/8U8A420

// 8U8A // #15 Grumpy House Grooves  [[KAOSS LIVE SESSIONS RND2]]

used track ... Analog Jungs,Adrien (ar),Durante,Niceshoot,,Paul Arcane,Micheael A,Gai Barone and etc

PROGRESIJA ZVUKA

g00d_3nd

YOURSELF

(You fail if ya dont) LIVE YOUR TRUTH

First attempt at an 8K music video. If it's not showing up in 8k, that's because I read it takes a while to process 8k videos.

Peak‑time energy meets cosmic calm—ride this melodic techno odyssey.

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Stream / download / buy ➜
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https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆
https://youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
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The Story ➜
1 — Arrival: The Observatory that Breathes

The observatory didn’t sit on the planet so much as the planet grew around it, like a pearl grown from a grain of math. From space it was a pewter iris set in a black-salt desert. Up close, it was alive: the walls breathed, exhaling faint motes that glowed teal before dissolving into the heat.

The traveler reached the threshold at nightfall—though night here meant a subtler dimness rather than absence of light. They were called Quen, or perhaps they had chosen that name because it sounded like a question. Cloak drawn against the cold, boots whispering over mirror-smooth stone, Quen paused beneath the arch. The arch was ribbed like the underside of a mushroom cap, gilled with bioluminescence, damp with ancient condensation. The place had the hush of a cathedral and the throat-clearing hum of machinery waking from a long reconsideration.

“Authorization?” asked a voice that didn’t quite use sound.

Quen let the question hang. The observatory’s throat worked, swallowing some old echo. A thin disc of light rolled down the arch, took one lazy lap around Quen’s boots, and wobbled upright like a coin deciding whether to fall.

“Navigator,” Quen said, finally. “Cartography corps. Voluntary.”

“Voluntary,” the voice repeated, as if tasting the word for its mineral content. “Then step in, and let the engine look at you.”

Inside, corridors radiated from a central well whose surface held a patient mirror of stars. But the stars rearranged themselves when Quen approached, as if the sky engine beneath the observatory preferred to work from its own memories instead of tonight’s weather. The air smelled faintly of iron and cedar; somewhere water trickled, but it couldn’t be seen. The mirror showed a constellation Quen didn’t recognize: a lacework of hexagons threaded by gold, humming between choices.

They walked until the corridor narrowed and the light gathered into an alcove. The alcove held what passed here for a reliquary: a coin of light, half-embedded in the wall. When Quen reached for it, the coin slid free and hovered over their palm, precessing slowly. Its face had no inscription. Its edge was impossibly sharp.

“Ephemeris,” the voice said—no, not the voice: the engine itself, speaking through vibration, a bass line felt along the bones. “Not a prophecy, not a command. A schedule of where the possible intends to be.”

Quen had come for that schedule. People told different stories about why. Some said Quen wanted to find a world that had been mislaid by history—a planet erased when a war needed a place to hide a mistake. Some said Quen had lost someone. Some said both were the same story, depending on how you rotated the map.

Quen closed fingers around the coin. It stayed warm in the glove, pulsing in time with the engine’s hum. “Show me the path that arrives,” Quen said. “Not the path that repeats.”

The observatory’s ribs flexed and sighed. The mirror-well brightened. Far below, something turned—a mandala as big as a city, as elegant as a seed.

The engine began to open.

Continues on the website.


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Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
o(*^＠^*)o
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
ㄟ(≧◇≦)ㄏ
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum


#techno  #8kvideo   #musicvideo   #trippyvisuals   #technomusic   #visualizer   #undergroundtechno   #musicvisualizer   #melodictechno   #8kvisuals  #8kvideosong  #8kvideoultrahd

Ephemeris of the Sky Engine }|{ Psychedelic 8K Music Video on YouTube

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

Website or Instagram for booking.

Need change - going harder.

Techno, Trance, Psytech, Psytrance, and other liquid psychedelic music is where I'm the happiest but I do love a lot of Latin, Tribal, 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.