Furry crime 2: Dumb Pursuit pertenece a la trilogia de peliculas de acción realizada por @florenciacomics pueden encontrar más dibujos en twitter @flopithebat 
también quisiera hacer una mención especial a @mijail-nadir por colaborar en el sonido ,gracias por escuchar (´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`)

Furry Crime 2: Dumb Pursuit

« ...INNA PLUTO STATE OF MIND, BABY’S GOT NO SATELLITES... » 🎤

💿 https://3oomerang.bandcamp.com/album/state-of-mind
The first 10 copies sold will be personally autographed!!
+ Instrumental + Acapella (CD only)

Recorded at Boomerang.lab
Prod by Rox
Gfx by Legobz
Belgium ©2022

JENNY B - STATE OF MIND (You'd be mad to miss it!!)

Prepare for your Solstice Ritual 

DJ KITOKO VOL.4

https://nkisi.bandcamp.com/album/dj-kitoko-vol-4

Sacred Vessel (DJ KITOKO VOL.4)

Is Peace Wild?

Eternal Image (feat. Yves B. Golden)

the cover of the mix is a close-up of the painting madeleine la veilleuse (magdelene with a smoking flame). the original artwork would be dated back to 1640. it was attributed by french nationalist art historians to lorraine landlord and painter george la tour, for catholic identification and poverty porn purposes. magdalene is depicted with a rope around her pregnant belly; she simultaneously carries death on her lap. she sits too close to the flame but seems to use the night in her advantage. her role was once to be her mothers' doll, then a man's public trophy and private saviour.

ugly truths

REPAIR AUTHORIZATION REQUEST |

this sopped up hymnal eats birds |

Authorize Repairs?

@vinerrrrr @suraleisme
Music Video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=HH_G5oToWfU
-----------------------------------------------------------

Death is certain, life is not. And both are available at our supermarket. 


With everything that’s happening in the world, one must wonder if there’s breaking free from it all or should they just stop trying to make sense of it. It’s a choice and it isn’t — depending on the circumstances one finds themselves in. What seemed senseless beginning to take form and what had always been solid shatters into pieces: home, family, plans, love, identity, freedom, sex, philosophy, technology, making-it, bank account, self, traumas, patterns, overcoming them, residence, conscience, morals, vodka, values, vulnerability — they have equal chances to serve as safe place or jail, wake or deliverance, life or death — go figure.

In its first release, Patar flips the table — and the cards, and the chips with it. No stake is too high to even mention it. One track and 7 versions of it, as an attempt to transgress from confusion to clarity — or maybe the other way around. Here’s an artistic experiment for you: do not brief, do not declare, do not obey, and do not fight — or do. And see what comes out of it. 

Qurgōn is a pit grave. There are dead horses in it, dead people, dead weapons, and vessels. It stinks and it’s scary. It’s a place where nothing will ever be born, or will it? It requires nothing, silently craving admiration. It only ever serves a collective memory of all the heroes and the blood-thirsty freaks alike. They are one, after all. It only is to be unbothered, looked at in awe and disgust; to be a break out on the smooth surface of the steppe’s ass.  

One artist made a call, seven responded — to dig to the bottom of that pit or touch upon its stony texture.

In order of appearance:

Viner [France, Marseille]
Şüräle [Kazakhstan, Almaty] 
Wulffluw XCIV [Moldova, Chișinău]
yutani [Armenia, Yerevan]
Sha Gen [Tajikistan, Dushanbe]
Aunt Zazá [Spain, Barcelona]
Hayk Karoyi [Armenia, Yerevan]
A.Fruit  [Spain, Barcelona]

Here’s another experiment for you: renounce all styles and genres and go with it. Who cares, anyway? Gloomy and epic, repetitive and bass-y — oh, always bass-y. Percussion-thick, yelling, obnoxious, rich. The sound of dying, finding peace, losing it again, and returning back to the hassle. The all-penetrating sound of a baby’s cry and the last exhale of a fighter knocked out for good. Ferocious sirens needling through the layers and layers of dead horses and weapons, clanking, squelching — resonating. With the horrors and hope. With memories and fantasies. With clinging to what seems to be it — and letting go. 

Nothing is certain anymore, yet everything is clear. 

p.s. The locations are mentioned to help gig providers locate the artists and, maybe, give an idea of their background and current state of mind, but not really and not necessarily.

* Qurgōn [Uzbek], commonly unknown as Kurgan [Turkic] or Курган [Russian]  a circular burial mound constructed over a mass burial site of warriors; originally in use in the Russian Steppes, Caucasus, and Central Asia, but later spreading into eastern, central, and northern Europe in the third millennium b.c.

text by Nastassja Popova
mixing & mastering by A.Fruit
cover by Timur Zima

Qurgōn

Qurgōn LP

Viner - Qurgōn (Şüräle Remix)

@vinerrrrr @aunt-zaza
Music Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYOMYioQDxM
-----------------------------------------------------------

Death is certain, life is not. And both are available at our supermarket. 


With everything that’s happening in the world, one must wonder if there’s breaking free from it all or should they just stop trying to make sense of it. It’s a choice and it isn’t — depending on the circumstances one finds themselves in. What seemed senseless beginning to take form and what had always been solid shatters into pieces: home, family, plans, love, identity, freedom, sex, philosophy, technology, making-it, bank account, self, traumas, patterns, overcoming them, residence, conscience, morals, vodka, values, vulnerability — they have equal chances to serve as safe place or jail, wake or deliverance, life or death — go figure.

In its first release, Patar flips the table — and the cards, and the chips with it. No stake is too high to even mention it. One track and 7 versions of it, as an attempt to transgress from confusion to clarity — or maybe the other way around. Here’s an artistic experiment for you: do not brief, do not declare, do not obey, and do not fight — or do. And see what comes out of it. 

Qurgōn is a pit grave. There are dead horses in it, dead people, dead weapons, and vessels. It stinks and it’s scary. It’s a place where nothing will ever be born, or will it? It requires nothing, silently craving admiration. It only ever serves a collective memory of all the heroes and the blood-thirsty freaks alike. They are one, after all. It only is to be unbothered, looked at in awe and disgust; to be a break out on the smooth surface of the steppe’s ass.  

One artist made a call, seven responded — to dig to the bottom of that pit or touch upon its stony texture.

In order of appearance:

Viner [France, Marseille]
Şüräle [Kazakhstan, Almaty] 
Wulffluw XCIV [Moldova, Chișinău]
yutani [Armenia, Yerevan]
Sha Gen [Tajikistan, Dushanbe]
Aunt Zazá [Spain, Barcelona]
Hayk Karoyi [Armenia, Yerevan]
A.Fruit  [Spain, Barcelona]

Here’s another experiment for you: renounce all styles and genres and go with it. Who cares, anyway? Gloomy and epic, repetitive and bass-y — oh, always bass-y. Percussion-thick, yelling, obnoxious, rich. The sound of dying, finding peace, losing it again, and returning back to the hassle. The all-penetrating sound of a baby’s cry and the last exhale of a fighter knocked out for good. Ferocious sirens needling through the layers and layers of dead horses and weapons, clanking, squelching — resonating. With the horrors and hope. With memories and fantasies. With clinging to what seems to be it — and letting go. 

Nothing is certain anymore, yet everything is clear. 

p.s. The locations are mentioned to help gig providers locate the artists and, maybe, give an idea of their background and current state of mind, but not really and not necessarily.

* Qurgōn [Uzbek], commonly unknown as Kurgan [Turkic] or Курган [Russian]  a circular burial mound constructed over a mass burial site of warriors; originally in use in the Russian Steppes, Caucasus, and Central Asia, but later spreading into eastern, central, and northern Europe in the third millennium b.c.

text by Nastassja Popova
mixing & mastering by A.Fruit
cover by Timur Zima

Viner - Qurgōn (Aunt Zazá Remix)

Dino Spiluttini presents the first two volumes of his sound recycling project Angelic Airwaves. Beyond the usual confines of the DJ mix, the project focuses on samples as raw material. Using only sampled build-ups from classic trance tracks, reworked acapellas, and his own voice as source materials, Spiluttini creates charged ambiences which ripple, billow and saturate. Voices and pads seep delay-soaked from their song and floor contexts into protracted yearnings for joy, strength and connection.

Premiered on April 5th 2025 on Retreat Radio Malmö

Angelic Airwaves I+II

Discovered Natural Artifact

Lyrics by Josh Reim

Pancakes on a Sunday,
Geared up for the runway.
Pi is in formation,
Floating through the sunray.
You and me uncover,
What’s to be discovered.
Math inside the music—
Recited by my lover.

Every touch, every rhyme,
Every kiss is design.
Music notes all align,
Arithmetic in my wine.
Every eve, every dawn,
Every bird, every fawn,
Each string pulls another—
Echoes of each other.

Discovered natural artifact,
DNA, to be exact.
I see a trace in your face—
From the ancient zodiac.

Discovered natural artifact,
When we meet, the stars react.
Every helix made from strand,
Perfect order in the black.

Rhythm from your heartbeat,
Turns the cold into heat.
Mapped across the night sky,
Everything is complete.

Searching for a question,
I swim in your direction.
My journey is the answer—
Pointing towards perfection.

Every touch, every rhyme,
Every kiss is design.
Music notes all align,
Arithmetic in my wine.
Every eve, every dawn,
Every bird, every fawn,
Each string pulls another—
Echoes of each other.

Discovered natural artifact,
DNA, to be exact.
I see a trace in your face—
From the ancient zodiac.

Discovered natural artifact,
When we meet, the stars react.
Every helix made from strand,
Perfect order in the black.

Discovered Natural Artifact

Josh Reim

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