The Hang Drum is a percussion instrument made in switzerland. The American version is called the Halo. A truly amazing instrument. Google it!!!

Poochie plays the Hang Drum

slam b rofaghaye kale pore chiiiil✋🏽

“I am not a place – I am a direction”

Born in the Mühlviertel, raised between dust, colors & chaos – shaped in hotels, halls & on the street. My name is Philipp Martin Hofer, but in sound, in heart, in fire they call me BAMM BAM. Because I don’t just paint, sing or write – I explode.

My music & my words are not made for algorithms. They are both wound & wonder. Between divinity & humanity. Between fire & silence. Between the urge to tear the system apart & the hunger to rebuild it in golden shards.

On SoundCloud you won’t find polished radio hits. You’ll find raw truth. Spoken words that burn. Beats that crash into your chest like cobblestones. Melodies that linger when the speakers have already gone quiet.

I am not a musician who wants to please. I am a storyteller who cuts straight into your heart.
I am not a poet who paints metaphors. I am a craftsman, throwing sound & word against bare walls like fresh plaster.
I am not a performer who needs a stage. I am the stage itself – whether in a studio, on the street, or in your ears.

My life carries edges & scars. Tattoos carve out my story: Flintstones on my arm, crowns on my ribs, hexagons across my chest. Every line a chapter, every scar a chord. I come from a world where you lose, rise again & move on. From a world where dreams are not parked, but held tight with bleeding hands – no matter how much they struggle.

BAMM BAM Colors is more than a name. It’s a promise.
A promise that art is never clean.
A promise that words don’t have to be polite.
A promise that music is not just heard – it’s felt.

I live between shifts at the hotel & shifts at my dream. Between plaster & piano. Between construction sites & stages. Between reality & fantasy. And I tell you this: both worlds belong together. Because every layer of dust lives in my voice. Because every drop of sweat condenses my flow. Because every stone I carry stays heavy in my words.

If you press play here, don’t expect perfection.
Don’t expect labels, genres, or stamps.
Expect chaos that feels like your own reflection.

I don’t invite you to listen – I dare you to feel me.
Welcome to the space between wound & wonder.
Welcome to BAMM BAM.

Poochie plays the Hang Drum

Joshthewillis