"Can't Feel What's Real" by Mr.FLEN is an abstract, experimental track that delves deep into themes of disconnection, uncertainty, and the overwhelming blur between the physical and digital worlds. With haunting synths, glitchy beats, and fragmented vocal delivery, the track embodies the essence of emotional and mental fragmentation. Listeners are drawn into an ethereal, unsettling soundscape where the lines between reality and illusion dissolve.

The lyrics reflect a surreal journey, filled with cryptic images of static, distorted signals, and fading connections, mirroring the digital overload of the modern age. Mr.FLEN uses a blend of atmospheric layers, dissonant harmonies, and vocal effects to create a disjointed, hypnotic listening experience that echoes the abstract style of artists like Thom Yorke and Aphex Twin.

For fans of Radiohead, Flying Lotus, and avant-garde electronic music, "Can't Feel What's Real" offers a cerebral, immersive experience. It speaks to those searching for complex, introspective music that explores the tension between reality and perception, making it a standout in the experimental genre.



cAN'T fEEL wHATS rEAL

PSILLY invites listeners into a surreal soundscape, blending introspection with rhythmic innovation. Its layered production creates a multidimensional listening experience, ideal for exploring the nuances of perception and reality.

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Musicologist ii: Planetary Alignment

PSILLY

There are songs you hear. There are songs you sing. And then there are songs like “Insert Track Four Here”—songs that hear you back.

A hypnotic, slow-burning descent into the uncanny, “Insert Track Four Here” isn’t just a track—it’s a meta-sonic experience. The fourth track on an otherwise unnamed record, it emerges like a ghost file you weren’t meant to find. From the opening verse—a hushed confession scrawled across the walls of a dream—it beckons listeners into a haunting spiral of self-erasure and creative possession.

    “I opened my mouth— / And the song sang me too.”

The pre-chorus floats like a memory you forgot to have: ghostly vocals layered like breath on glass, asking questions no answer could comfort. And then the chorus hits—big, cinematic, addictive, the kind that echoes long after the speakers have fallen silent. It's a hook designed to be remembered... or maybe to remember you.

Sonically, the song is a shape-shifter. It grows more urgent with every verse: glitching rhythms, reversed whispers, and a pulsing undercurrent of dread that builds to a bridge where chaos and control become indistinguishable. Time fractures. Sounds reverse. The melody becomes a mirror—and you’re not sure who’s looking back.

And then comes that line:

    “Maybe I was the song.”
    Delivered with eerie clarity, it’s not a climax—it’s a surrender.

By the end, you’ve been unwound, rewritten, rethreaded. The final chorus rises like a possessed choir, triumphant and terrifying all at once. It doesn’t resolve. It doesn’t end. It listens.

And when silence finally returns… it feels staged. Like it’s waiting. Like the song is still in the room.

“Insert Track Four Here” is a concept piece disguised as a haunting alt ballad. It’s for fans of artists like Radiohead, Chelsea Wolfe, Nine Inch Nails, or Lingua Ignota—those who crave sound that scratches at the walls between reality and art, between listener and voice.

Play it once, and you’ll be humming it in your dreams.

Play it twice… and it might start humming you.

Insert Track Four Here

Crown Intro” opens the Spit and Grit EP like a ritual in static—an invocation of glitch, memory, and meaning.
It’s a wild compendium of sound fragments and spoken spells, torn from the seams of the old world and rearranged in luminous noise.
The roses bloom electric. The sheep circle. The crown cracks.
You are not here to be saved.
You are here to wake up.

crown (intro)

Blending experimental electronic pulses with slow, syrupy rhythms and unsettling yet entrancing synths, this track feels like a message from the deep 

Cosmic Horror

Step into a sonic journey that blurs the line between reality and madness. "The Chair" is more than just a track—it's an audiovisual experience inspired by the haunting short film of the same name. Through pulsating rhythms, evolving textures, and hypnotic layers, this Progressive Psytrance piece captures the fear of losing oneself and the silent war waged within the mind. Perfect for those who seek deep, immersive, and emotionally charged soundscapes on the dancefloor or in introspective solitude.

The Chair


“Baraka… calling Earth…
Do not adjust your pineal gland...
I repeat… the dolphins are listening…”
(Echo: listening… listening…)

Mimon’s eyes wide — like quantum moons,
He rides on vibes through living rooms.
Wearing jackets made of coded truth,
Shouting facts from a cursed phone booth.
Hands in the air, geometry flies,
He sees the beams — we blink our eyes.
No school, no rules, just pure Baraka,
Speaking backwards through a chakrablaster.
🌀 
🌌 
🔊 Zzzhhhh… decode the static
🗣️ “The pyramids are WiFi towers for angels!”
🎛️ Tape-stop stutter: An–gel–gel–gel–gel…

🌀 Miiiiiimon… Barakaaa…
Lives in your fridge… reads your aura.
He don’t walk — he floats in grooves,
Dances with ghosts in gamma moves.
🎤 Barakaaaa… Miiiiiimon…
Talks to dogs in dial tone.
Speaks in code, eats light,
Dreams in dub, and rants all night.
(Echo: all night… night… night…)

He paints his teeth with lunar cream,
Chats with chairs and splits your dreams.
One sock on, the other’s a clue,
He might be real… or just part of you.
He calls the pope a clone from space,
Licks a plug to feel God’s face.
Baraka’s truth: ten levels deep,
He sold his shadow — it won’t sleep.
🧠 (Echoes: "won’t sleep… deep… beep… sheep...")

Turn the mirror — change your name.
Baraka knows the astral game.
Salt in his pocket, time in his hat —
Reality? He’s not into that.

Miiiiimon… Barakaaa…
Part prophet, part banana.
Broadcast live from your TV dreams,
Plugged to truth via laser beams.
🎤 Miiiiimon…
Baraka’s groove — can’t be undone.
He’s not mad — you’re just too sane.
Ride this dub… and join the plane.
(Echo loop: plane… plane… Baraka train…)

“This was not a song.
It was a message…
decoded in rhythm.
Baraka… OUT.”
(Tape rewind and click.)

Baraka Broadcast (from the 8th Zone)

Beneath the Night crashes through shadows with gritty riffs and smoky melodies, fusing Bay Area street poetry with cinematic rock ambiance. It’s a twilight anthem—where hip-hop storytelling collides with distorted emotion and atmospheric soundscapes. Haunting, resilient, and unapologetically real.

🎤 For listeners who live in the tension between pain and power, light and loud—this one’s for you.

Beneath the Night

A smile stretched too far.
Glided moves like a parade of joy — upbeat, almost childlike — but something’s off beneath the surface. The rhythm feels warped, like happiness dragged through a slower frame. It lingers just a little too long, like laughter in a quiet room.

There’s warmth, even charm, but it's wearing a mask. Subtle tension builds as a shadow seeps in — not loud, but undeniable. A creeping weight in an otherwise light-hearted world.

This is the sound of pretending. Of going through the motions.
A celebration you don’t fully believe in.

GLIDED

Plump Cat waddles through a strange and whimsical world - one slow, unexpected beat at a time. With a mix of lazy woodwinds, plucky pizzicato strings, quirky percussion, and clumsy xylophone accents, this track oozes peculiar charm. Its offbeat rhythm and oddball mood paint the picture of a chubby feline on a surreal adventure, stumbling through curiosity and confusion with adorable determination.

Fun or No

Plump Cat

Music is not just an art form for me—it's a lifeline, a form of therapy that sees me through the highs and lows of life. Each track I create is a piece of my soul, translated into sound. It's in the depths of melodies and rhythms that I find solace, pouring my emotions and experiences into each note as a way to heal and understand myself better. My music is a diary of my journey, a reflection of the inner workings of my mind and heart. When you notice an influx of new tracks, it's a signal that I'm navigating through tougher times, seeking refuge and expression through my music. This direct channel from my innermost thoughts to your ears is what makes my music raw, real, and resonant. So, as you listen, know that you're not just experiencing a song, but a chapter of my life, a moment of catharsis, and a piece of my path to healing. My hope is that it may offer you the same comfort and escape it provides me.

Reaching out to you from the void, the scab sisters are looking to make contact. Through spaces untold and mysteries unnumbered, they have found their way here to the castle beyond consciousness to take back the knowing that has been stolen. Join them in the quest for connection. 2 best friends art project. Enjoy

Just a guy driven by passion—writing songs, chasing dreams, and sharing real moments through music. From the Bay to wherever the beat lands, every track tells a story. If the music hits home, follow, like, and share the journey. Every bit of support fuels the next chapter.

Amethyst Amaris isn’t just making music—she’s architecting entire worlds. Blending trap, jazz, Indigenous soul, house, and poetry, her sound is a forcefield of raw emotion and higher frequencies. As the visionary behind Black NDN Music (aka Trap Vogue) and her AI band Æon Purrr, she’s dropped over 300 original human-made tracks and 200+ AI-assisted compositions, bending reality with every note. From deeply channeled compositions to AI-infused sonic spells, she stays ahead of time itself. Pay Attention.

Hi there — welcome to my corner of the web.

I’m here for one simple reason: to share my music with you.
Take a listen, explore, and I hope something here resonates with you. Enjoy the vibe!

Check for more music at
comedysounds.com

Hello and welcome! 
I create orchestral, comedic music, From lighthearted arrangements to relaxing, soothing tunes, my tracks are designed to bring joy and keep you entertained.

Hello and welcome!

I’ve been creating music for the past six years, learning and evolving with each track.
My instrumentals are deeply personal—each one shaped by emotion and often named after the feeling that inspired it.

I try to sculpt sounds and melodies in a way that expresses what words sometimes can’t—like trying to describe a color with language. Everyone hears and feels differently, and that’s part of the beauty.

What you hear here on SoundCloud is just a glimpse—there’s a much broader journey waiting on my YouTube channel, where you’ll find many more tracks and visual experiences.

Thanks for listening.
Enjoy the journey.

“Creator of City of Make-Believe – a spoken word dreamscape blending poetry, sound design, and cosmic ritual.”

John C. Sweet is a poet, musician, and sonic explorer who crafts immersive, atmospheric experiences through sound and spoken word. Blending haunting melodies with raw, introspective lyricism, his work walks the thin veil between reality and the unknown—where echoes of the past meet the pulse of the future.

From ethereal soundscapes to sludgy, hypnotic rhythms, John’s music is a fusion of industrial textures, post-rock grit, and spectral storytelling. His spoken word performances unravel themes of existential longing, cosmic wonder, and the fragile beauty of decay—pulling listeners into a world where myths whisper and the boundaries of time blur.

His latest project, Hymns for the Dead & Divine, is a journey through shadow and light, weaving dreamlike vocals with cinematic instrumentation, ritualistic chants, and ghostly transmissions from places unseen.

This is not just music. This is an invocation. A reckoning. A voyage into the spaces between.

🔹 Follow for new releases, experimental collaborations, and transmissions from the void. 🔹

New tracks tagged #SurrealSoundscape