Feel the bass bend reality—hit play for a 4K psychedelic techno trip through neon galaxies!
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You’ve never seen space dragons breathe basslines—watch in 4K now.
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Penrose Streets of Dawn
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4K Music Video : https://youtu.be/5YIi_BdgifU
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#psychedelic #techno #psytrance #minimaltechno #hardtechno #scifi #fantasy #space #4k #ai #visualizer #trippyvisuals #mushroomtrip #liveset #electronicmusic #edm #musicvideo #mindtrip #neongalaxy #futurebeats #bass #deeptech #rave #cosmic #dreamscape #synthwave #ambienttechno #dmtart #mindbending #chromatic #PsychedelicTechno #Psytrance #SciFiMusic #FantasyElectronica #MelodicTechno #HardTechno #SpaceRave #4K #AIMusicVideo #Visualizer #TrippyVisuals #EDM #ElectronicMusic #RaveCulture #MindTrip #viralbeats 
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I. Star-Seed Departure
Nova stood on the observation deck of the Neon Mycelium, her boots sinking slightly into the living amethyst floor. Beneath the translucent crystal, rivers of liquid quartz pulsed in steady rhythms, feeding the gargantuan mushroom hull that cradled the crew. Out beyond the bio-glass, the universe swirled—a black tapestry stippled with emerald nebulae and ultraviolet shoals.

Tonight the vessel would breach the A-Gate, a cosmic arch said to bloom only once each æon, opening a corridor toward the legendary city known in hushed chatter as Penrose Streets of Dawn. Scholars argued whether the city was geometry made sentient or a dream that had become architecture; all agreed it lay at the far lip of ordinary space.

Bioluminescent thrusters flared. Spores—micro-diamonds of psilocybin—spiraled away, forming a wake of prismatic dust. With a sigh that felt like the universe exhaling, the Mycelium slipped its moorings. The cabin lights dimmed as crew-forms strapped into chrysalis seats. Their fractal tattoos glowed—cyber-organic ink reacting to the imminent trans-spatial leap.

A drumbeat of gravity rippled through the corridors. Engines of liquid quartz roared alive, pumping radiant energy through mycelial conduits. The ship lurched—then surged—toward the open mouth of the A-Gate. As the arch engulfed them, Nova tasted ozone and orange blossoms and something older than stars. Her vision fractured into mandalas, every shard a doorway.

II. Orchid Nebula & the Choir of Sprites
They emerged inside a nebula the color of dawn-kissed bruise—lavenders, peaches, bruised sapphires. Floating orchids the size of cathedrals unfolded in slow motion, each petal a stained-glass window humming a single pure tone. Together the flowers sang a chord that shimmered like spun gold, pouring into every nerve.

From the song leapt D M T sprites—iridescent beings shaped like impossible geometry, all triangular smiles and kaleidoscopic wings. They skated along the orchid-light, weaving figures of eight that left vapor-trails of liquid laughter.

Nova’s console vanished; in its place curled a serpent of neon light. The serpent spoke in scent—a rush of petrichor and peppermint—warning of a coming silence. She scarcely had time to decode the perfume before the orchids snapped shut and the nebula darkened, extinguishing every color but indigo.
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Continues on the website: 
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/07/03/penrose-streets-of-dawn/

Penrose Streets of Dawn

Saturday bangers yeah baby!
Watch a galaxy get forged in bass—can your subs handle the drop?
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Peak‑time hard techno + trippy sci‑fi visuals = instant full‑screen rave—dare you press play?
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Chronicles of the Mycelial Starforge
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https://grasspatchbum.com/
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Ixoa Morrow wasn’t born on any map you could fold. Raised in a comet-mining flotilla, they learned early to navigate by intuition—feeling gravity’s hiccups, hearing the micro-pulses between stars. The gift turned profitable: traders paid dearly for slip-route coordinates whispered in Ixoa’s half-sleep. Yet profit dulled into routine, and routine into restlessness, until a forgotten emergency relay in the Polychrome Drift flared back to life after four centuries of silence.

The signal was a single chord of ultraviolet radio mixed with sub-audible bass, more felt than heard. Ixoa’s synapses lit up like festival lanterns. They dismissed the autopilot, brewed lucid-dream tea steeped with mescal spores, and keyed in the broadcast’s coordinates. Engines groaned, reality folded, and the Star-Vagrant skipped across spacetime like a stone across water.

1 Portal Ignition
The relay’s origin teetered beside a derelict Stargate—six fractured rings penguin-stacked into an impossible hexagon. Its shattered edges bled violet light that dripped upward, defying momentum. As Ixoa approached, the light recomposed into a door—no bigger than a ship’s airlock hatch yet furious with gravitational hunger. Without ceremony (or even a prudent scan), Ixoa stepped through.

Density inverted. Bones hummed cello-low. The next breath tasted of petrichor, cinnamon, and distant thunder. Then gravity snapped back, and Ixoa stood on a glassy platform suspended over a cosmic canyon. Rivers of electric orchids surged below, their petals casting turquoise reflections that painted Ixoa’s suit in prismatic kaleidoscope.

A whisper—half static, half lullaby—coiled around Ixoa’s skull: Run forward; forward is freedom.

Trusting the voice (or perhaps the spores now blooming in arterial pathways), Ixoa sprinted. The platform unfurled ahead in modular hexes, assembling just in time for each footfall. Each step triggered mushroom bulbs under the glass, erupting bioluminescent spores that spiraled upward into constellations shaped like forgotten alphabets.

2 Acceleration Corridor
The path narrowed into a cobalt tunnel glazed with liquid equations that dripped like raindrops in reverse. Velocity gathered of its own accord; Ixoa’s heartbeat synced to a 129-beat cadence—the corridor’s hidden pulse. Walls rippled between dimensions. For a nanosecond, Ixoa saw every possible self: monarch, martyr, chorus line singer, silent monk. Each future variant winked out until the one who kept running stayed solid.

Mid-sprint, time elongated like taffy. Footsteps echoed centimeters apart yet stretched through parsecs of subjective distance. Neon glyphs flared on the tunnel’s skin, marking milestones in languages no civil lexicon had catalogued. Spore-constellations inside Ixoa’s lungs mapped these glyphs to emotion: courage, trepidation, wonder, hunger for the unsayable.

They burst from the tunnel as abruptly as a seed gun: launched into velvet void, spinning until inertia sighed and balance returned.


Continues on the website: 
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/07/26/chronicles-of-the-mycelial-starforge/

#techno #hardtechno #melodictechno #4kvisualizer

Chronicles of the Mycelial Starforge

Dig the tunes? Check out the music videos YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum

Website or Instagram for booking.

Need change - going harder.

Techno, Trance, Psytech, Psytrance, and other liquid psychedelic music is where I'm the happiest but I do love a lot of Latin, Tribal, Lofi, Chillhop so occasionally I'll release something off-beat.

------ Past-Tense Shenanigans ------

Born in the dust-filled vibes of a ‘90s apartment, Grass Patch Bum started spinning records back when vinyl was king and internet cafes were revolutionary. Armed with a crate of vinyl, Grass Patch Bum dived headfirst into underground raves and sweaty house parties, learning the art of blending beats on turntables and (eventually) the "futuristic" CDJs. But the journey didn't stop there.

After taking a hiatus to dive into the world of FL Studio and dissect the mechanics of production, Grass Patch Bum came back stronger, with a repertoire of original sounds and the technical chops to match. Fast forward, and they've turned dancefloors upside down from Thailand to Vietnam, Bali to the heart of Europe. Now, powered by Ableton Live and a creative arsenal that refuses to stay in one genre, Grass Patch Bum weaves sonic journeys that blend groove, grit, and just a sprinkle of nostalgia for the good ol' days.

Catch him live for a taste of nostalgia, modern beats, Latin grooves, electronic melodies, and a wide range of liquid sounds. Whether it's a tropical beach in Thailand or an underground club in Berlin, Grass Patch Bum brings thems booty movements like no other.

New tracks tagged #hard‑techno