13 th track released on Metacortex Records VA UNITNOISETRIBE ♡♡♡

Compiled by Lito

UNITNOISETRIBE is a radical collection of experimental, dark hitech and core, bringing artists together from different sides of the world and noise.

Full album: https://metacortexrecords.bandcamp.com/album/va-unitnoisetribe

Mix&Mastering by XianZai (Divinorum Studios) - Thank you for fruitful cooperation!

Swinging Like My Mood (209 BPM) (VA UNITNOISETRIBE - Metacortex Records)

"Through the Trance Dance Experience, hopefully people become more sensitive and aware of themselves, their surroundings, the crossroads of humanity, and the needs of the planet. With that awareness comes understanding and compassion. That is the need of the hour, and the True Goa Spirit,, Goa Gil
"A trip inside yourself to the awakening..."

We go beyond thought, beyond mind, and beyond our own individuality…

🔱 Emptiness Isn't Loneliness 🔱

No BPM limiter
This is a pretty dark place 🖤

https://www.instagram.com/davi_sikorski?igsh=OWFneGY4bzNidjA1

∴ E๓brค¢iຖg diงiຖē ¢hค໐Ş ∵

Skrz_t is a project focused on exploring fairytale-like, melodical soundscapes fused with deep, immersive drone and fast, dark kick&bass. 
My background is rave underground  around psycore music, where I fell in love with bass that makes you breathless and adopted this convention into my music.
In every piece there is a story of emotional journey from chaotic mental events into consistent form of experience. Music served me as a way to protect my own autonomy and sanity in times when I was under pressure to behave, speak, look as others expected me to be. Music is always free and in music I found place, where I am free.

for the name: it comes from the word 'skrzat,' which is a mythological creature. It is something in between a gnome and a pixie from Slavic mythology. I vibe a lot with those creatures; therefore, people started calling me Skrzat, and I just converted it into Skrz_t because of how it sounds when spoken (skshat).
It sounds like a very experimental sound when I say it: skrrrrrt.
In Slavic mythology, there are many types of them, but the name is general. They are associated with values like helpfulness but are also tricksters who make jokes purely for fun. They generally live in forests or wild places but now use civilization for their purposes.
There is a fraction of home-skrzats who live with people. They are very magical and have the ability to use spells.
One can't possibly see them with the naked eye; you can only have an impression of seeing them, which leaves a specific feeling in the body and mind (as if reality just bent and left a never-answered question mark on what is real and what is not—a pure, pleasant confusion from which a golden river of inner peace flows). This is exactly what the sounds I am aiming for do.

Unless you are a fun of whatever genre it is, it might take some time to fully perceive this music due to natural and perhaps secure limitations of our brains. To the best of my knowledge default human neural network might not have specific connections and it takes time&practice to grow new which is weird but amusing process. Moreover it fights Alzheimer's. Making this music expands my own boundaries in spite of notorious thought that I don't have any

teamed with:

DIVINORUM MUSICORUM

AKELARREKREW



He did not wake up — he remembered that he existed.

Around him stretched an endless ocean of pale light, cold and lifeless like the gaze of an ancient god. 
No ground, no direction, only a crushing emptiness in which even thoughts grew heavy. And yet: beneath his feet stretched a disk of glass, thin as the ice on a dying pond.

Below, a clockwork of inhuman scale ground on — colossal gears spewing rusty sparks into the abyss, iron giants whose movements were so old they seemed to steer the very breath of the world. The sound of ticking was everywhere, a flat, malicious pulsing that seeped into his bones.

He stepped forward.
The glass trembled. Another step. A soft, hungry cracking.
With a scream that did not come from his mouth, but from reality itself, the world broke beneath him.
He fell — or rather: he was devoured.

The clockwork peeled flesh from thought, tore memory from consciousness as he plunged downward. Gears, their edges glowing with obscure colors, slashed past him so closely that they carried the whispering of lost souls.

Time had no name here.
He became a droplet in a black river, carried through planes of existence beyond understanding.

When his consciousness finally began to take form again, he saw:

Windows — cracks in the fabric of nothingness.
Beyond them: worlds never meant for human eyes.

The darkness itself breathed words into him, formless yet sharp:

Choose. But know: every step is a chain. Every choice a sacrifice.

He floated, alone with his fear, his hunger for meaning — and the knowledge that every world would change him.
Perhaps break him.
Perhaps erase him.

-Orv