Hard techno warehouse energy—drop in now and ride the storm.
Peak‑time kicks, industrial grit—enter the tunnel.
Acid‑laced hard techno for the 4AM warehouse.
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Stream / download / buy ➜
Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
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Neo rave sci‑fi visuals with ruthless hard techno drive.
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Helix of the Bioluminal Oracle
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Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
Trippy Music Video : https://youtu.be/dv56pNhrA-c
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The Story
The plain was made of black salt, a horizon of matte crystals that swallowed reflections instead of returning them. Above it hung a sky the color of cooled iron. Nothing moved, not the thin grasses fossilized in place, not the distant ribs of petrified cactus, not the oval shadows that pooled where there should have been light. The air felt thick—like a held note, like a thought someone forgot to finish.

Out of that heldness, a figure stepped.

They were not armored or robed. They carried no tools, only a glass seed cupped in both hands, small enough to hide in a fist, heavy enough to pull the shoulders down. The seed was not luminous, but light noticed it; beams bent when it passed. The traveler steadied their breath until it matched the inaudible pulse threading through the ground. When they looked up, the horizon turned by a fraction, just enough to show that all horizons here were part of a wheel.

The wheel’s center was nowhere and everywhere, but its rim—the path—ran straight ahead. The traveler started walking.

Out past the fifth step, the salt exhaled spores that did not rise or fall. They hung, counting each other, arranging themselves into a body: a lank, cathedral-shouldered mushroom being with gills inscribed in teal. Its shadow formed before its cap; then its stem curled up from the shadow’s edge, a reversed sprout. The gills flexed, and stenciled onto the air between them appeared a silent string of equations shaped like vines.

The traveler paused without fear. The equations were invitations.

The mushroom lifted its arm. Halfway through the gesture, the arm became a cactus rib, green lacquer with glints of trapped suns. The rib arched overhead and, with a soft click of geometry, multiplied into a corridor: rib upon rib, an arcade of living anatomy, each curve fitted to the next by joints that whispered when they turned. Salt slipped out of salt, forming steps that did not look like steps until the traveler placed a foot on them and the ground agreed.

A corridor of ribs and spores opened toward a darkness that was not night, and the traveler crossed the threshold.

Beneath the ribs, the air acquired weight. Droplets formed on the cactus skin and beaded, each bead holding a world full of tiny weather. Where the beads grazed one another, prisms were born—micro-faceted insects that hummed without sound and flew in quivering constellations. Columnar forms extruded from the salt like glass trees, branches interlocking in a scaffold of perfect errors. Between branches, filaments stretched into a lattice, a graph of choices the traveler hadn’t made yet.

In the prisms, the traveler’s reflection wore a dozen futures. In some, the seed had already been planted; in others, the seed was a piercing and the sky was stitched to their skin. In one, there was no traveler at all, only the seed rolling like a planet where the ribs met the plain.

Continues on the website:
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/08/18/mercury-river-protocol/

#techno #technomusic #hardtechno  #neorave  #industrialtechno  #warehouserave  #peaktime  #acidtechno  #undergroundtechno  #4kvisuals

Mercury River Protocol - Psy Visuals 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.