What happens when techno meets DMT? 4 minutes in and you’re already elsewhere.
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DMT Corridor Drift
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#dmt #psychedelic #techno #psytrance #trippy #visualizer #neon #mushroom #spacejourney #cosmic #deeptech #131bpm #fantasy #scifi #mindtrip #hexagon #neonrave #futuretech #bassline #underground #visualstory #cosmicrave #sporewave #synthwave #darkrave #trancevisuals #galactic #deepbass #trippyart #psyvisuals #corridordrift #mushroomtrip #spacerave #psytech #dreamwave #aetherbeats #futuregroove #ravescape #hologrambeats #nightdrivevibes #cosmictrance #liquidlightshow #voyagerhythm #subterraneanbass #stellarjourney #hyperspacehouse #mindscape #sonictapestry #etherealbeats #phantasmicgroove #neonvisions #virtualrave #galaxygroove #infinitehallway #pulsewave
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The sky above the wasteland looked bruised—deep indigo scraped with crimson scars—yet the ground beneath my boots felt uncomfortably alive, as if thousands of tiny roots were tasting each footfall. I’d followed a faint, rhythmic tremor here, a heartbeat pulsing up through the ash. When the tremor peaked, a shard of crystal burst from the soil, spinning on its axis like a razor-bright compass needle. It caught the bruised light, refracted it into emerald rivers, then unfolded into a doorway of liquid prism-glass, humming with the promise of elsewhere.

I didn’t hesitate. Wherever “elsewhere” was, it called to the restless riptide in my veins. I stepped through—
and gravity inverted.

Upward into the Quartz Well
I fell skyward inside a spiraling well of translucent citrine. Walls of fossilized light stretched forever; each layer trapped ancient moments—laughter, sorrows, revolutions—now flickering past like thumbnail memories. Luminescent spores swirled beside me, the children of gargantuan subterranean mushrooms I’d only seen in outlaw holos. They flirted with my skin, diffusing micro-doses of raw data straight into my nervous system. In flashes I tasted the metallic dusk of extinct planets, heard choir-songs made of starlight, and felt the grainy warmth of gravity settling into new equations.

The well tightened, momentum surged, and for a breathless instant I became a singularity of thought. Then the citrine walls burst into motes and I landed gently, as though the universe cushioned me in slow motion.

The Corridor Where Mirrors Lie
I stood in a hallway paved with mirrors that reflected futures instead of faces. A thin veil of violet vapor—rich with DMT-scented electricity—rolled across my ankles, painting shifting glyphs that rearranged every time I blinked. One mirror showed me feathered in fractal plumage, eyes swirling like twin nebulae. Another revealed me piloting a city carved into Saturn’s rings.

Instinct said choose, so I lifted a hand—half curiosity, half rebellion—and pressed my palm to the nebula-eyed version of myself. The mirror surface rippled, swallowing my reflection and my doubts in one gulp.

Sudden vertigo. The corridor unzipped itself, twisting into a Möbius strip that flung me forward without direction, as though space had forgotten which way tomorrow was supposed to go. Time stretched, knotted, and re-coiled. When it snapped back, I found myself kneeling on luminous sand that whispered in three voices all at once.


Continues on the website:
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/07/22/dmt-corridor-drift/

DMT Corridor Drift

Visualizer Music Video : https://youtu.be/ncBHDoL8AQg
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Fractal portals, hypnotic bass—this space trip resets your brain.
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Voyage of the Fractal Nomad
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Page 1: The Cocoon and the Call
In the pitch-black cradle of deep-sector 91‑Δ, something stirred.

The Cocoon was not a ship in the traditional sense. It pulsed, breathed, and dreamed. Its hull was laced with thin-film iridescence, woven from the silk of bioluminescent mycelia. Inside, a singular entity began to wake—the Fractal Nomad. Not born, not made, but grown from the remains of a forgotten psynaut and an ancient fungal intelligence.

No alarms. No spoken commands. Just a vibration that deepened into meaning.

The Nomad blinked twice. Not eyelids—there were no more eyes. But consciousness phased into clarity. A lattice of liquid sunlight unfolded across the Cocoon’s canopy. That was the signal.

The solar sails unfurled, silent sheets of translucent light slicing through vacuum like blooming petals. The Cocoon heaved forward, stretching spacetime into a tunnel of colorless heat. As it entered slipstream velocity, the Cocoon's internal symbiotes pulsed in sync, lubricating the journey with ionized thoughtform lubricants.

And then... they descended.

Not downward, but inward. Into something deeper than space.

Page 2: Tunnels of Smoke and Memory
The slipstream was not linear. It twisted like a Möbius nerve—a loop folded upon itself, hiding deeper truths with every pulse. Inside the stream, light behaved like thought, and thought behaved like fluid.

The Nomad’s mind flickered with echoes of past lives: dying on a jungle planet while mushrooms sang dirges; drowning in clouds made of serotonin; kissing a mirrored self on a moon with no name.

The Cocoon shook.

A metallic howl rippled through the spine of the vessel. The warp coils strained, each one a living organ wrapped in platinum membranes. Electro-psionic turbulence tore at the mycelial lattice, splitting it momentarily into kaleidoscopic nerve clusters.

They were being rerouted. Something unseen had hijacked the trajectory.

But then came the release.

The Cocoon burst into a nebular blossom—a great flower made of starfire and pheromone dust. The Nomad hovered in its core like a bee tasting eternity.

Time bled into petals.

Page 3: The Bloom, the Chorus, and the Caravan
An 8-second eternity.

The Cocoon drifted inside a radiant prismatic bloom, where rainbow light condensed into liquid lenses. Through them, the Nomad could see latticework cities built by forgotten species: organic skyscrapers, breathing streets, psychic highways.

Then, something emerged from the bloom—a mushroom spire, golden and immense, coiling around the Cocoon. It released a harmonic burst of spores, each one humming a perfect A♯ frequency. The chorus of spores sang a name the Nomad had never known it had.

And with that, the Cocoon recalibrated.

A swarm of micro-vessels unfurled from its hull—the Quantum Caravan. These weren’t ships; they were fragments of the Nomad’s own psyche, each carrying a different version of truth. They aligned into a spiral formation and began gliding across a plane of turquoise plasma.


Continues on the website:
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/07/29/voyage-of-the-fractal-nomad/

#techno  #4kvisualizer  #psychedelictechno  #trippyart

Voyage of the Fractal Nomad

#expermental #deephouse #electro #electronica #beats

I’m a Forest

#Dance #Jazz and #Soul #Upbeat 

I wrote and made this song for my partner as she is my world 🌍 ❤️ 🥰

You’re My world

The vocals immediately catch your ear there’s a smooth, soulful vibe that strongly recalls Tenobi’s delivery on “What You Need.” The tone and phrasing feel intimate and effortlessly controlled, giving the track an emotional undercurrent that elevates the deep chill-house foundation. Whether it’s the same voice or just a striking similarity, it works beautifully in the context of the arrangement. Your ears won’t let go!

by Rosario Simeoli
(Grazie mille fratelo)

Those Eyes

Hey 
"Origin" is out 
To make this track I sampled this incredible song by Isaac Birituro & The Rail Abandon called "Dondomo," very inspiring!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UXCE4kQ_xys
Hope you enjoy it :)
Note: All credits and revenues arising from this track are duly reported to the copyright holders.

Origin

Artist: Massive Attack
Album: "Mezzanine"
Original release date: 1998

I DO NOT own the rights to this material, nor do I claim to own them. Copyright belongs to its owners. We only spread your work, without any commercial spirit.
Thanks and enjoy!

To learn more material from this DJ/Producer, I invite you to activate the # Matt One tab.

Massive Attack - Teardrop (Matt One 2025 remix)

Alarma (Red Edit) – cloudNine

BPM: 136
Genre: Peak-Time Techno / Acid Techno

Alarma (Red Edit) is a ferocious rave cut — wild, kinetic, and confrontational. Driven by a hammering 136 BPM kick and twisted 303 acid lines with pitch automation, this edit dials up the chaos for peak-time floors.

Loaded with bright hats, distorted snares, granular risers, reverse FX, and gated synth stabs, every element is sharpened into a phase-warped techno assault.

The energy is dark and unforgiving: sudden acid breaks, distorted re-entries, and rapid build–drop–rebuild cycles engineered for maximum crowd impact.

Mood: Wild · Kinetic · Confrontational
Tone: Acid aggression, futuristic rave energy

Alarma (Red Edit)

Sarāb (Mirage) is a deep fusion of Arabic house and Indie vibes. Pulsating rhythms, mystic chants, and hypnotic grooves create the feeling of a desert mirage — something distant, yet magnetic. Perfect for sunsets, beach clubs, and late-night journeys

Dj set NF " Sarab | سراب "

My new EP with fresh analog tracks. Hope you'll all enjoy it !

Analog Life

Falling in Love

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.

Voyage of the Fractal Nomad

Grass Patch Bum

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