Synchrohm - Dark Face Rmx - 11 - 2022

A journey through the night... In the sky, the stars are tied together with invisible strings, reflecting the hidden bonds within the human soul. With every step, an unseen force pulls two strangers closer. They never speak, their eyes never meet, yet their hearts beat to the same melody. Two souls who have never known each other are drawn into the center of the universe by an invisible bond. A connection beyond time, beyond space—an energy that can neither be seen nor touched. And yet its power is strong enough to silence every storm. As the music rises, the bond carries them into a realm where only one truth remains: the strongest connection between people is not born of words, but from the vibration within silence. And in that moment, through the hypnotic waves of melodic techno, their hearts become entwined by the invisible threads of the universe.

Linear, Krupica - Invisible Bonds [Vanta Black]

OS Hip Hop infused with UG house. Simply made, to make you move. (Radio Edit)

STORY TIME

TSUMO - ID9 (Radio Edit)

Rest in Peace Jane Goodall...

What coincidence that she past the day I released this track. I sampled her beautiful speech in the production.

Stereo Monkey released an amazing track a while back. To show some love I remixed "Animals" and I probably had more fun  creating this than anything else so far! Radio Edit.

Stereo Monkey - Animals (TSUMO Remix) (Radio Edit)

Chapter 1®

AmbAnts

Wait For The Moment

Fargox -Testing the subwoofers-

Jungle

Music video : https://youtu.be/j0MPhq5wskg

Hypnotic techno for peak‑time—get lost in a fantasy rave through an amber gate.
Dark melodic techno + warehouse energy; a mythic trip in Ultra 3D.
Driving 125 BPM techno—enter the prism forest and don’t look back.

Stream / download / buy ➜
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https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
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https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
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The Story  ᓚᘏᗢ  ➜
I. The Basin That Breathes

The basin had no sky in the ordinary sense. It wore an amber crown that dimmed and brightened like a thought, and its dunes were made of glass-fine dust that held the footprints of yesterday’s wind. Beneath that crust lay pipework built by fungi older than regret—hyphae gears, mycelial bellows, and a long engine whose heart ticked in a ribcage of basalt. The basin did not shake when it woke; it inhaled, and the dunes dipped in a slow, respectful bow.

Aralune walked the rim, and if you must call Aralune a person, do it gently. Aralune’s skin was interleaved glass and moss—translucent planes crossed by dim rivers of biolum. The face was a moon cut from green stone; the hair, not hair at all, but braided hyphae threads that whispered the weather. Around the throat hung a single coin-moth—alive but patient—fastened with a loop of frost-wire like a quiet promise.

Aralune had come because the basin’s spores were speaking again. Every thousand breaths, the plain told a story in geometry—spore-script rising in the air, making corridors where there were none, doors where there had never been walls. And tonight was a rarer hour, one spoken of in fossil tongues and recorded as a rumor under the shell of a mirror tortoise: the Turning, when light itself could change its mind.

They were not alone. On the near slope, a phalanx of mirror tortoises began their climb. Their shells were domes of tempered reflection, plated like old armor and banded with narrow rings that contained the history of distances. From their mouths drifted tiny chimes: not sound, exactly, but pressure adjusting to the telling of a name.

At the crest, a cluster of eel-shaped entities surfaced from the dunes in spirals. They were not wet, yet they gleamed; their bodies were tubes of clear crystal, and in their hollow centers flowed silver smoke that made numbers by accident. They carried nothing and could carry anything, if asked the right way.

Farther in, towering above a meadow of cap-lamps, stood the Oracle of Spores—a cathedral mushroom with gills like bookshelves and a stem carved by wind into the shape of a patient bell. The Oracle did not move. Ridges of biolum rose and fell, spelling interviews with silence.

Aralune placed one hand on the dust and felt the engine’s intake. A long breath. The crown brightened; the rim shadows tightened. It had begun.

II. The Procession of Things That Never Learned to Be People

The basin thrummed; the eel-choir threaded themselves into braided cables, their glassy bodies weaving an aerial towline from ridge to ridge. The coin-moth on Aralune’s neck unfurled and lifted—a silver disc with a body no thicker than a sigh. In flight it wrote faint glyphs that fell apart the moment you understood them, the way dreams do when you open a door.

Continues on the website.


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Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
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https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
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Support the tunes:
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#techno #trippyvisuals #technomusic #visualizer #undergroundtechno #musicvisualizer #4kvideo #4kvisuals #psychedelicvisuals #peaktimetechno #hypnotictechno #drivingtechno #melodictechno #aimusicvideo

When Light Decides to Turn - Trippy Music Video @ YouTube

Synchrohm, aka Carsten Ohm, was born in Germany in 1980 and played his first turntables at the age of 14.
He started using Traktor around 2010. Since November 2024, he has been experimenting with Ableton Live...
His music is light and driving, yet full of energy. A blend of techno, deep house, acid, and psychedelic elements.

There were isolated performances at Butan - Wuppertal, Fusion - Münster, Sams - Bochum, Zeche Unter Tage - Sprockhövel, Sobieski - Bochum, SAMS Bochum but Synchrohm mostly played  for friends or at illegal parties in his area. But always with passion.

For him, music is his driving force.