soulgistic Sessions w Dj Bruce Walker  06/18/25

Yemoja BEACH 2025 💃 🪩 🕺  PACK IT TO GO

SUNBATHERS 017

MONDAY GROOVES AUGUST 25, 2025

HOUSE FM SHOW FOR SEPTEMBER 1ST 2025 (UnEdited)

2025-09-01 Llghtoutsessions SHMC DJ197

Jus Denson, Rick Troupe Live from the Dungeon.

"Jams Outside the Club Norms" with Wil Milton 9.16.25

HOUSE FM MIX 10-13-2025 UNEDITED

Under the velvet glow of late-night city lights, “Knife in the Heart” glides in like a fever dream — smooth, hypnotic, and unbearably beautiful. A chillwave samba that sways between heartbreak and transcendence, it doesn’t scream — it whispers. It breathes in rhythm, the percussion brushing like silk against the pulse of quiet agony.

The lyrics unfold like a confession whispered through smoke, where love isn’t loud or dramatic — it’s surgical. The wound is invisible, but the pain glows. The “knife” here isn’t made of metal, but of memory, and every twist of it becomes strangely musical — a string vibrating in the chest, a samba beat disguised as sorrow.

Warm synth pads drift over a lazy, tropical groove, while subtle guitar lines and brushed snares wrap the listener in deceptive calm — a kind of emotional anesthesia. It’s the sound of smiling while bleeding inside.

This is not heartbreak in chaos — it’s heartbreak in rhythm.
A sunset bleeding into neon, a dance for those who’ve learned that love doesn’t always end — sometimes, it lingers and turns.

🕯️ Smooth. Wounded. Addictive.
A song that burns softly — and keeps burning long after the last note fades.

Lyrics:

No blood, no scream, no open scar,
Just silence where the heartbeats are.
It slides inside without a trace,
Cold silver kiss on a sacred place.

No one sees, no one believes,
The way it cuts beneath my sleeves.
A phantom pain, a hidden crime,
That stabs again in perfect time.

And the knife in the heart turns and turns and turns,
And the pain in the soul burns and burns and burns.
Invisible wound, impossible art —
She painted her name inside my heart.

Each twist hums like a violin string,
Each burn a bell the angels ring.
You didn’t kill — you just refined,
A masterpiece of a tortured mind.

I laugh by day, but dream by knife,
You took the sleep, you left the life.
Your touch still spins beneath my ribs,
Where every heartbeat still forbids.

And the knife in the heart turns and turns and turns,
And the pain in the soul burns and burns and burns.
No one can see, no one can feel —
But every beat cuts deeper, still.

You twist to the right — I still remain,
You twist to the left — I taste the pain.
A gentle smile, a cruel disguise,
A silver truth behind blue eyes.

And the knife in the heart turns and turns and turns,
And the pain in the soul burns and burns and burns.
If love’s a fire, then let it consume —
The ashes will dance inside my tomb.

Knife in the Heart

New album release on the ever outstanding Insectorama, 
Markus Masuhr’s amazing non-commercial netlabel.

“In a fog-drenched city, “POMALO” echoed through abandoned warehouses and midnight alleys. dESUS had woven roots and rhythm into steel and smoke — dubtechno pulsing with heartbeat bass, whispers of ancient drums beneath digital rain. 
Each track felt like memory reborn: the hum of machines meeting the warmth of earth. 
People didn’t dance; they drifted — lost between echoes, caught in the timeless loop of roots and reverb. 
When the last note faded, silence carried the groove, as if the city itself kept breathing POMALO.”

Released October 24, 2025 

Limited edition of 30 CD’s
Stamped and numbered by hand with love
Shipping out on or around October 24, 2025

Includes unlimited streaming of Pomalo via the free Bandcamp app, 
plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

Artwork by Harris McPherson.

https://insectorama.bandcamp.com/album/pomalo

https://de-de.facebook.com/Insectoramanetlabel/

03.dESUS - Conscious of my Conscience

Elemental Vol. 7 continues the journey begun in Vol. 1, returning to the meeting point of nature and circuitry where country becomes techno and techno becomes country. The project carries forward the Elemental idea — that music, like weather or landscape, isn’t a metaphor but a living force that moves through us.

The sound remains tactile and porous: guitars still breathe, synths still shimmer, but the pulse runs deeper now, steadier, like groundwater finding its course beneath open fields. The arrangements move between organic drift and machine precision — footstep and kick drum, heartbeat and bassline — tracing a quiet dialogue between wilderness and pattern. It’s not fusion so much as coexistence: a music that sounds both handmade and algorithmic, campfire and circuitry, soil and signal.


Jus Denson, Rick Troupe Live from the Dungeon.

Rick troupe