Bamboo

i don't remember much about making this one, but it has always sounded kind of optimistic in a weird way. maybe the right word is melancholic. whatever it is, it was definitely an accident.

originally produced: 6/4/2024

See You Tomorrow

Hold On

Moonlit Nostalgia

Slimelungs - Allow it to form

Album Music Videos: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_DB6rTW1nEo&list=PLymNA9M985DgVuEZkgQMVel6v54ZiHZ_E
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Drown distraction in rain‑lit lofi beats—perfect for late‑night study & deep focus.
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Please follow - https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
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Keep in touch with latest releases:
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Aya curled her fingers around a chipped porcelain mug, the steam fogging her glasses as rain braided silver ribbons down the café window. Old Kumo City’s crooked lanes vanished into mist, leaving only the glow of rain-lamps—teardrop bulbs strung on sagging wires that shone brighter the wetter they became. Their honey-orange halos pooled in every puddle, turning the street into a trembling galaxy of tiny suns.

She opened her sketchbook to a fresh page. The blank paper shimmered under the lamp’s reflection, and for a heartbeat Aya thought she saw a pulse behind the page —as if it were breathing. She touched her pencil point to the center and drew the faint outline of a gateway: two weather-blackened pillars crowned with tangled wisteria that dripped rain like beads of quicksilver. Each pencil stroke felt less like graphite and more like tugging thin threads out of the falling water. When the final tendril of wisteria bloomed, the sketch glowed ember-soft, then burst into quiet lavender light.

The café around her stretched, smeared like wet paint, and Aya felt herself slip forward—through page and window and lamplight—into weightlessness.

She landed in an abandoned metro tunnel where the tracks floated several inches above the gravel, loose as ribbons in unseen water. Bioluminescent mushrooms crowded the sleepers, caps wide enough to shelter two people, their undersides dripping neon-green spores that drifted not down but up, filling the air like reversed snowfall. Somewhere far away a single wind chime sang one clear note, and the spores shimmered in sympathetic ripples.

An origami crane unfolded from shadow. Its paper wings were ink-black, but its eyes glowed citrate yellow. With a quick tilt of its head, the bird launched itself forward, flapping in slow, deliberate arcs. Aya followed, her footsteps whisper-light on the hovering rails. Gravity felt hesitant here, as if deciding every second whether to stay.

The tunnel curved, walls widening into a cavern lit by moonlight that had no source. Cracks in the stone let thin waterfalls bleed upward, threading through the air toward some invisible sea overhead. Whenever a droplet brushed Aya’s skin, kaleidoscopic patterns blossomed in her vision—mandalas of jade, magenta, and cerulean that folded into one another like living stained glass. She let herself drift, each breath thick with petrichor and possibility, until the crane slipped through a circular archway rimmed in tiles that pulsed faint electric blue. Aya stepped through and the world blinked again.

Wind rushed with the scent of wet cedar. A colossal corkscrew tree stood before her, its trunk spiraling toward a sky smeared in dusk purples and dawn blues at once. Around the trunk coiled a bazaar in mid-air—suspended balconies formed from giant lotus petals, each petal lined with stalls. Air-fish glided between vendors, translucent bodies flickering oranges and pinks, casting watercolor shadows across drifting banners. Bells chimed from every direction, their notes weaving together like threads on a loom.

Fox-masked merchants beckoned Aya with wave fans painted in shimmering ink. She explored slowly, fingertips skimming glass bottles that held clouds, marbles that contained sunsets, lanterns harboring sleeping fireflies. At one stall she paused: a tiny vial labeled Memory of Tomorrow rested on a velvet cushion. The merchant behind the table—tall, cloak stitched from scraps of midnight sky—did not speak. Instead, he pointed at Aya’s sketchbook.

Wobbly Paper Skylines

Lo-fi beats for late-night thoughts, quiet recovery, and emotional clarity.

Healing is a sonic space for those unspoken feelings — the moments you can’t put into words, but still need to feel. Across 9 slow-burning, ambient lofi tracks, this album flows like a gentle inner dialogue. It doesn’t ask you to move fast. It just sits with you, softly, until your heart unclenches.

Whether you're picking up broken pieces or simply exhaling after a long day, Healing offers an instrumental safe zone for rest, reflection, and release.

🌫️ Tracklist Vibes:
Clouds in My Coffee – mellow mornings and soft confusion

Unsent Letters – messages you never sent, feelings you still carry

Faded Pages – lost words from past versions of you

Midnight Window – city lights, silence, and still breathing

Rain Knows My Name – a gentle drizzle of peace

Left on Read – digital loneliness with warm undertones

Backspace Dreams – erasing what you thought you needed

When the World Slows Down – that rare stillness that heals

Typing to No One – reaching out, even when no one replies

🌙 Perfect for:
Emotional healing

Studying, creating, or journaling

Nighttime calm and overthinking

Rainy walks, deep thoughts, and soft solitude

Let the silence between beats help you hear yourself again.
This is not just music — it’s part of your healing.

Backspace Dreams

Yesterdays Sky

Autumn is in the air! Our most well-known series continues with Essentials Fall 2025, the 10th autumnal release since beginning this ever-growing seasonal tradition back in 2016.  

Featuring 44 artists contributing to 28 instrumentals, Essentials Fall 2025 is a warm and cozy project designed to carry you through the crisp, golden months ahead. Whether you're sipping something warm, going for a long walk through falling leaves, or settling in for a focused work session, these mellow and nostalgic tracks are the perfect soundtrack for this new season. Fall is the perfect time to slow down, reminisce, reflect, and get inspired by the world as it transitions around us.

The third Essentials of 2025 also features Chillhop favorites like Sleepy Fish, Ian Ewing, C Y G N, G Mills, and many more. These 68 minutes of hand-picked and carefully-curated instrumental gems are everything you need to settle into a brand new season.

Whether you're drawn to jazzy lofi, smooth chillhop, or classic boom bap beats, Essentials Fall 2025 offers a little something for every kind of listener. Put on a hoodie, cozy up with some coffee, and let the introspective vibes carry you through the season.

As for our Raccoon—last we saw, they were enjoying summer with Mango the Toucan on a floating island. Now, as the leaves fall, with Mango still around, the island has turned into a garden, complete with carrots and Jazz the Bunny. Together, the three partake in deep conversations, cultivating, and connecting with nature. The colors are shifting, the vibes are mellowing, and a new chapter in the Chillhop world begins. Stay tuned to see where this journey takes us next season.

Yesterdays Sky

420 Sunlight

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