@amb music
AMB has once again brought us a deep journey of sound experimentation that has resulted in some beautiful tunes that blend seamlessly between various broken beats, four to the floor and atmospheric sound design. This EP is a story, a poem and an abstract expression of singular moments captured in creative writing, visually and in audio. We hope you enjoy the adventure as much as we do.

CHAPTER 0: Prologue    
I found the envelope on the floor. Inside, a worn and torn map.
In the corner, faint enough to miss: for systems like ours.
Three days later, the same symbol appeared in the corner of a grocery list.
In my handwriting.
But I didn’t remember writing it.
The hallway light flickered. The clock had stopped.
I folded the map into my jacket and stepped outside.


CHAPTER 1: Field Repairs     
No signs, no barriers—just an open doorway humming in the dark.
I descended.
The tunnel stretched endlessly ahead, lined with cables that pulsed with faint light. Like a nervous system, abandoned but still alive. In the distance, the sound of a train that never seemed to arrive.
I pressed my ear to the wall. The hum was stronger here, almost like breathing.
"Stay long enough, you'll see it move again."
The voice came from nowhere. Empty tunnel behind me, empty tunnel ahead.
Something was waiting on the platform ahead.


CHAPTER 2: Second Line     
The train appeared without sound. Sleek, modern, completely out of place in this forgotten tunnel.
I stepped inside. Empty seats, dead screens, except for one monitor swinging on a single wire overhead. A woman's voice spoke in French, warm and distant, like a memory from someone else's life.
Outside the windows: absolute darkness.
Then, cutting through the black, a vertical beam of light, fixed and unblinking. The train followed it like a moth to flame.
I tried to look away, but the beam burned itself into my vision, into my mind.
The beam began to pulse, and suddenly I wasn't alone in the car.


CHAPTER 3: Carved Into Air      
The light shifted to warmer and golden. The train was gone.
I stood in ancient ruins under an amber sky. Figures moved through the space like smoke. 
At my feet, a wooden sign carved with symbols I knew but couldn't remember learning.
A barefoot man appeared before me, his lips didn't move: "Some things... They never leave. The wind remembers."
I reached toward him. A hand touched my shoulder from behind.
When I turned back, he was gone. They were all gone.
But then, one by one, the shadow figures began turning to face me.
Their faces were all the same. They were all mine.


CHAPTER 4: What Remains       
The map burned in my hands but I felt no heat.
Ruins surrounded me now, different ones. 
Stone arches fractured by time and fire, smoke drifting through broken pillars. 
Hooded figures moved through the haze, working to repair something.
One of them looked up. For a moment, recognition flashed between us. 
They seemed to be repairing something, though I couldn’t tell what. 
One of them turned, and for a moment, I thought I knew them.
But when I blinked, they were gone.

CHAPTER 5: LATE TRANSFER       
I woke to the light and walked toward the tracks. 
An overgrown train station, nature reclaiming concrete and steel. 
A single train car sat on the tracks. Lights off, doors sealed. 
But the rails hummed with electricity. 
I waited, though I couldn't say for what. 
The sun fell lower. 
The humming grew softer but never stopped.
Then, a soft mechanical click. 
The door unlocked. 
I stepped forward.
They were waiting for me.

AMB - For Systems Like Ours

AMB has once again brought us a deep journey of sound experimentation that has resulted in some beautiful tunes that blend seamlessly between various broken beats, four to the floor and atmospheric sound design. This EP is a story, a poem and an abstract expression of singular moments captured in creative writing, visually and in audio. We hope you enjoy the adventure as much as we do.

CHAPTER 0: Prologue    
I found the envelope on the floor. Inside, a worn and torn map.
In the corner, faint enough to miss: for systems like ours.
Three days later, the same symbol appeared in the corner of a grocery list.
In my handwriting.
But I didn’t remember writing it.
The hallway light flickered. The clock had stopped.
I folded the map into my jacket and stepped outside.


CHAPTER 1: Field Repairs     
No signs, no barriers—just an open doorway humming in the dark.
I descended.
The tunnel stretched endlessly ahead, lined with cables that pulsed with faint light. Like a nervous system, abandoned but still alive. In the distance, the sound of a train that never seemed to arrive.
I pressed my ear to the wall. The hum was stronger here, almost like breathing.
"Stay long enough, you'll see it move again."
The voice came from nowhere. Empty tunnel behind me, empty tunnel ahead.
Something was waiting on the platform ahead.


CHAPTER 2: Second Line     
The train appeared without sound. Sleek, modern, completely out of place in this forgotten tunnel.
I stepped inside. Empty seats, dead screens, except for one monitor swinging on a single wire overhead. A woman's voice spoke in French, warm and distant, like a memory from someone else's life.
Outside the windows: absolute darkness.
Then, cutting through the black, a vertical beam of light, fixed and unblinking. The train followed it like a moth to flame.
I tried to look away, but the beam burned itself into my vision, into my mind.
The beam began to pulse, and suddenly I wasn't alone in the car.


CHAPTER 3: Carved Into Air      
The light shifted to warmer and golden. The train was gone.
I stood in ancient ruins under an amber sky. Figures moved through the space like smoke. 
At my feet, a wooden sign carved with symbols I knew but couldn't remember learning.
A barefoot man appeared before me, his lips didn't move: "Some things... They never leave. The wind remembers."
I reached toward him. A hand touched my shoulder from behind.
When I turned back, he was gone. They were all gone.
But then, one by one, the shadow figures began turning to face me.
Their faces were all the same. They were all mine.


CHAPTER 4: What Remains       
The map burned in my hands but I felt no heat.
Ruins surrounded me now, different ones. 
Stone arches fractured by time and fire, smoke drifting through broken pillars. 
Hooded figures moved through the haze, working to repair something.
One of them looked up. For a moment, recognition flashed between us. 
They seemed to be repairing something, though I couldn’t tell what. 
One of them turned, and for a moment, I thought I knew them.
But when I blinked, they were gone.

CHAPTER 5: LATE TRANSFER       
I woke to the light and walked toward the tracks. 
An overgrown train station, nature reclaiming concrete and steel. 
A single train car sat on the tracks. Lights off, doors sealed. 
But the rails hummed with electricity. 
I waited, though I couldn't say for what. 
The sun fell lower. 
The humming grew softer but never stopped.
Then, a soft mechanical click. 
The door unlocked. 
I stepped forward.
They were waiting for me.

For Systems Like Ours

Carved Into Air

AMB - Carved Into Air

Second Line

AMB - Second Line

What Remains

AMB - What Remains

Late Transfer

AMB - Late Transfer

Field Repairs

AMB - Field Repairs

contact/submissions/press inquiries: label@mutimusic.com  

Curator: https://soundcloud.com/dov1
Often referred to as 'The First US Bass Music label' , Muti Music has been pushing emerging and established genres of bass music since 2002.
Muti  Music = Medicine Music.
In South African English, the word "muti" is used to refer to all sorts of herbal medicine. It is derived from the Zulu/Xhosa word umuthi, meaning "tree," whose root is -thi. In Southern Africa, "muti" and cognates of umuthi are in widespread use in most indigenous African languages as well as in South African English and Afrikaans, which sometimes use "muti" as a slang word for medicine in general, or even as a term for 'good luck'.

founded by @Dov1