Digging It

Children of Aquarius

This piece opens with a gentle warmth, its harmonies flowing like a serene stream under soft light. Rooted in A-flat major, it delicately balances serenity and quiet strength, with each phrase thoughtfully shaped to evoke introspection.

The tender yet purposeful melody weaves seamlessly through a subtle accompaniment, creating moments of poignant stillness and heartfelt resolution. Embracing simplicity, the composition allows the emotional depth of each note to shine, while gentle modulations trace a narrative of reflection and quiet hope.

Co-producer: Blaž Pavšič
Mixed and mastered by @a7-recording-studio (www.a7recordingstudio.com/)

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Prelude in A-flat major

Para escuchar la versión original  https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/yogur-de-fresa-version-original-ver-texto
Para escuchar la versión instrumental  https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/yogur-de-fresa-ver-texto

YOGUR DE FRESA

Esta es esa niña bien
que por descender de familia
se cree dama distinguida
de la cabeza hasta los pies.

Como no es su fuerte estudiar
se acomoda en una revista
donde hará las entrevistas
a los famosos de verdad.

Tampoco le va madrugar,
por lo que resulta gracioso
contemplar su rostro a las ocho
haciendo la entrada triunfal.

Cuando llame el apetito
se comerá las galletas
y el ritual yogur de fresa
que componen su almuercito
y contará que el domingo 
se fue a una sala de fiestas
donde conoció a un atleta
a un cadete o a un médico.

Esta es esa niña bien
que aunque su mamá lo intentara
no pudo nunca ser nombrada
como la chica más fetén.

Fracasó la idea de hacer
de una infeliz una gran dama
haciendo que se codeara
con el retoño de un burgués.

Lo mismo ocurrió en la elección
de la reina en fiestas de barrio
soñó que vivía en palacio
y luego ¡ni aun dama de honor!

Ha de estar de manifiesto
que  esta ocasión los culpables
fueron los imponderables
que trajeron desarreglos
consecuencia de los nervios
y estar tan insoportable
para que se la mandasen
a tomar el viento fresco.

Esta es esa niña bien
que aunque se las dé de moderna
sus modos denotan la escuela
que la condujo a ser quién es.

Dice ser mujer liberal
sin ningún tabú ni prejuicio
y que al tener un sueldo fijo
pronto se independizará.

Y luego poderse marchar
por ahí buscando aventuras
sin pensar que esa “película”
es para mayores de edad.

Oye bien lo que te digo
niña tonta y consentida:
no te creas que la vida 
aceptará los caprichos
que hasta hoy has tenido
siempre a punto en tu alcancía
pues te sentirás perdida
en el más amargo olvido.
	
STRAWBERRY YOGURT

This is that well-to-do girl
who, because she comes from a family,
thinks she's a distinguished lady
from head to toe.

Since studying isn't her strong suit,
she settles down at a magazine
where she'll interview
real celebrities.

She's not an early riser either,
so it's funny
to see her face at eight
making her grand entrance.

When hunger strikes,
she'll eat the cookies
and the ritual strawberry yogurt
that make up her lunch
and tell everyone that on Sunday
she went to a nightclub
where she met an athlete,
a cadet, or a doctor.

This is that well-to-do girl
who, even if her mother tried,
could never be named
the hottest girl.

The idea of turning
an unhappy woman into a great lady
by having her rub shoulders
with the offspring of a bourgeoisie failed.

The same thing happened during the queen's election at a neighborhood festival.

She dreamed she lived in the palace,
and then she wasn't even a lady-in-waiting!

It must be clear that this time the culprits were unforeseen events that brought disorder,
a consequence of nerves,
and being so unbearable that they sent her
out into the cold.

This is that good girl,
who, although she acts modern,
her manners reflect the schooling
that led her to be who she is.

She says she's a liberal woman,
without any taboos or prejudices,
and that, with a steady salary,
she'll soon become independent.

And then she can go off
looking for adventures,
without thinking that this "movie"
is for adults.

Listen carefully to what I'm telling you,
foolish and spoiled girl:
don't think that life
will accept the whims
that until now you've always had
ready in your piggy bank,
because you'll feel lost
in the most bitter oblivion.

Yogur de fresa (Feat. Hugo Iglesias Olmos)

The Alchemist

Hallucinophonics - "White Eyes"
From the shadowed corridors of consciousness comes our latest transmission—a haunting exploration of the liminal spaces between life and death, reality and reverie.
"White Eyes" ventures into the darker chambers of the psyche, where ancient mansions hold memories that refuse to fade and spirits walk through candle-lit halls seeking what was lost. This track weaves together vintage Hammond organ, ethereal guitars, and atmospheric soundscapes to create a sonic séance that bridges the earthly and the eternal.
Crafted with analog warmth and cosmic intention, the song builds from whispered beginnings to transcendent climax, embodying our mission to articulate the ineffable through sound.
Experience the extraordinary by closing your eyes and letting the phantom guide you through the hall where time grows pale.
🕯️ Launching September 2025
🌌 Where the cerebral meets the celestial
Produced with vintage instruments and modern vision
Mixed in analog warmth
Mastered for cosmic transmission

White Eyes

The windows were rattled by excuses in transit
No one was ever named
Coffee was poured, then cooled by inert stares
Responsibility was evaded
Our history was footnoted in parentheses
Subjects were dropped like lost keys
Hearts were tangled in disclaimers
Ownership was never claimed

Objects were acted upon 
While actors hid behind thin clauses
Clarity was deferred
Uncertainty was preferred

Mistakes were made
Feelings were hurt
Blame was implied but not assigned
Actions were questioned
Voices were silenced
Responsibility was never delivered

Our arguments were catalogued in passive tone
No culprit to convict
The garden was neglected-watering was missed
Hands were nowhere to be found
Promises were tucked into envelopes stamped "Pending"
Deliveries untracked
Every door was left ajar
Closures were postponed by unnamed causes

Boundaries were blurred
Culpability dispersed
No subject stood firm

Mistakes were made
Feelings were hurt
Blame was implied but not assigned
Actions were questioned
Voices were silenced
Responsibility was never delivered

See how the verbs collapse when the doers disappear
How the sentences stagger without a subject to steer
This story was written in passive ink
And so its meaning was left indistinct

Mistakes were made
Feelings were hurt
Blame was implied but not assigned
Actions were questioned
Voices were silenced
Responsibility was never delivered

Passive Voice Was Used

Dies Irae — "The Day of Wrath" — draws its name and inspiration from the iconic medieval Latin hymn that envisions the Last Judgment: a cataclysmic reckoning where the trumpet sounds, the dead rise, and every soul stands trial before an all-powerful Judge. Traditionally sung at Catholic Requiem Masses, this ancient text has haunted Western music and imagination for centuries, inspiring giants like Mozart and Verdi to transform it into timeless works of art.

This reinterpretation takes a more critical and personal path. Rather than presenting the full, fire-and-brimstone narrative, the track distills the original into select verses — fragments that echo through the music like distant voices from a troubled past. The piece challenges the deeply rooted notion of God as a merciless arbiter, replacing fear with reflection. In doing so, it questions how such doctrines have shaped our inner world — replacing love with dread, grace with guilt.

The composition opens and closes with solemn church organ passages, framing the piece like the arches of a ruined cathedral. The final organ reprise, however, carries a subtle shift — a glimmer of hope, as if the weight of centuries-old judgment might finally give way to something more compassionate.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

DIES IRAE 

Dies irae, dies illa
Solvet sæclum in favilla.

Quantus tremor est futurus
Quando iudex est venturus.

Liber scriptus proferetur,
in quo totum continetur.

Iudex ergo cum sedebit,
quidquid latet apparebit.

(The day of wrath, that day,
will dissolve the world in ashes.

How great will be the quaking,
when the Judge is about to come!

The written book will be brought forth,
in which all is contained.

When therefore the Judge will sit,
whatever lies hidden, will appear.)

Horror Sacri

Dies Irae

Gone is the anger.
Gone is the fight.
Gone is your passage into the light.
Gone are the left
Gone are the right.
Gone is your wiggle room.
When things get tight.

Gone is the doctor.
Gone is your hope.
Gone is the ladder. 
Here's some rope.
Gone is the daydream.
Frittered away.
Gone is the saving up.
For rainy days.

Take your war and shove it up your arse.
Take your pretence. 
It ain't all about class.
Take your pity. 
We're breaking the glass.
Break the glass.
Of class.
Class.

Gone are the holy.
Out for a drink.
Gone for a cigarette. 
Having a think.
Gone through the window.
Gone through the door.
Gone is the condemnation.
All for more.

Gone is the outrage.
Gone is the time.
Gone are the young men.
Sinking their wine.
Gone is the passion.
Blowing away.
Gone, paranoia.
Gone are the brave.
Away.

Take your war and shove it up your arse.
Take your pretence. 
It ain't all about class.
Take your pity. 
We're breaking the glass.
Break the glass.
Of class.
Class.

Gone/Glass

An emotion
contains mana
we're casting our spells
in every moment
and our hearts shit
calls forth magic
we cast our spells
without knowing


raise awareness
to the life in side
when fate comes for her cruel touch
we will tap the heart of magic
win fates game
a-a-avoid her cruel touch
when our hearts cry
all of magic cries
it takes control

don't you know
what this life is for
don't you know
that there's something more
don't you know
what yer crying for
don't you know
that yer something more

in our heart lies
all of magic
we gather for spells
without the notion
in our heart lies
all creation
we ask our selves
if its bull shit
i can see the
heart of magic
when fate fucks up on her cruel touch
we can tap the heart of magic
win fates game
avoid her cruel touch
when our hearts cry
all of magic cries
it takes control

don't you know
what this life is for
don't you know
that there's something more
don't you know
what yer crying for
don't you know
that yer something more

An emotion
contains mana
we're casting our spells
in every moment
with our heart light
we make magic
we cast our spells
with desire

don't you know
what this life is for
don't you know
that there's something more
don't you know
what this life is for
don't you know
that there's something more
don't you know
what yer crying for
don't you know
that yer something more

embrace connection
to the life in side
when fate comes for her cruel touch
we will tap the heart of magic
win fates game
a-a-avoid her cruel touch
when our hearts shine
all of magic shines

Heart of Magic

Undertow

I Believe

Plague Doctor

A crushing wave of heavy riffs, dark atmospheres, and raw energy. Supersonic takes you straight into the heart of chaos — where skulls crack, amps scream, and shadows burn. Turn it up loud, lose yourself in the storm.

Supersonic

Supersonic -  KRT Production

http://youtube.com/@krplunk2227
http://x.com/krplxnkk
http://tiktok.com/@krplxnk00_
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fading away (prod. farber)

Kingslayer

Pop Punk/ Rock
co-produced, mixed, mastered, and cover art by
@a7-recording-studio

www.a7recordingstudio.com

a7recordingstudio@gmail.com

Tonight, it End's

We are a Seattle based heavy metal AI band that is exploring the fusion of music, humanity and AI. Lyrics and original stories by Todd Russell, a published author. Music by Suno (Pro v4.5). Album art generated by Leonardo. Search all music outlets for our music, we are everywhere, please listen to what is shared

Hallucinophonics exist at the nexus of consciousness and sound—crafting immersive soundscapes that challenge the boundaries between reality and reverie. Drawing from Pink Floyd's cosmic explorations, Porcupine Tree's atmospheric sophistication, and Tame Impala's psychedelic innovation, they create music that functions as both artistic statement and transformative experience.
Band's name reveals its mission: the precise articulation of hallucinogenic experience through sound. Their compositions weave together ethereal textures, progressive architectures, and hypnotic rhythms, exploring themes of consciousness evolution and existential discovery. From transcendent space rock anthems to introspective nocturnal transmissions, their music occupies that sacred territory where the cerebral meets the celestial.
Hallucinophonics represents a bold new chapter in psychedelic music—an invitation to perceive reality through different frequencies and discover that the most extraordinary journeys often begin with simply closing your eyes and listening.
Genre: Psychedelic Rock, Space Rock, Progressive Rock, Art Rock
For Fans Of: Pink Floyd, Porcupine Tree, Tame Impala, King Crimson, Radiohead

The Alchemist

Hallucinophonics

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