meant for this  (Remix) (1).mp3

reconnection  (Remix) (2).mp3

make a mess  (1).mp3

Paper Planes and Thunderstorms (Remix)  (2).mp3

familiar  .mp3

one more song (10).mp3

New Earth .flac

I’m Elourai... shaman, heyoka empath, autistic artist, retreat host, writer, mom. I make music that lives between the seen and the felt: trance when the sky needs opening, dubstep when the body needs to shake something loose, house when the heart wants to move, and sometimes sounds that don’t belong to any genre at all. If it heals, if it hits truth, it belongs here.

My life is split between ceremony and school pickup, breathwork circles and grocery aisles. That tension is the instrument. I write from the floor of my babies room at bedtime, from the car outside practice, from quiet rooms where people remember how to breathe, from nights when fear feels louder than the mix. These songs carry all of that: the weight, the grit, the humor, the stubborn light that refuses to quit.

How I sound: two voices, same soul. One is etheric ... siren-toned, layered, vowel-forward, made to lift the crown and widen the room. The other is earth ... raspy, breathy, a little broken on purpose, the kind of vocal that tells the truth even when it shakes. Strings, harp, piano, deep bass, trance plucks, and organic percussion thread it together. I like drops that feel like cliffs. I like key changes that feel like oxygen. I avoid anything that sounds like a video game ... I want warmth, body, and human edges you can feel on your skin.

How I build: I treat sound like energy work. Toning, overtones, and carefully chosen frequencies show up under the melody ...not as a gimmick, but as a way of pointing the nervous system toward ease, release, or power. I use analog color, field textures, and choir layers where pads would normally go. My mix notes are simple: keep the breath, let the reverb breathe with it, and make the low end feel like a hand on your back saying “you’re safe.”

What I write about... transmutation without the sugarcoat. Rage that burns clean and becomes space. Surrender that isn’t defeat. Survival that turns into strength. Devotion that feels like standing still long enough to tell the truth. Some tracks are meant for ceremony, some for the late drive home, some for warehouse floors at 2 a.m. Not every song fits a tag. That’s fine. My only rule is that it has to be honest.

Who I hold it for.... people in the in-between ... empaths, sensitives, single parents counting receipts, seekers who don’t want to be sold anything, healers who still have bills, creatives who are tired of being told how to sound, neurodivergent nervous systems that deserve softness and bass that doesn’t punish. If that’s you, welcome. You don’t have to explain yourself here.

What you’ll hear here... full-body trance and house journeys, heavy bass pieces with orchestral spine, vocal rounds that feel like a remembering, spoken bridges that sound like a friend on the stoop, songs that start in a whisper and end in the sky. A few will sit outside genre; they can. I’m not here to be tidy. I’m here to be true.

If a track met you in a hard place and helped you breathe ...thank you for telling me. If you found me by accident and stayed...I see you. Play this loud or play it lying on the floor. Share it if it moved you. Message if you felt something you can’t name. This page is a studio, a sanctuary, and a field note on being human.

— ELOURAI
