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i dont even know what to tell yall about this one...

This is a Fan Remix.

I do NOT own the vocals of any artist featured on this track blah blah blah.

instrumental produced by me

Kodak Black - PORTAL RADIO INTERLUDE REMIX (prod. ouhmenno)

A transmission from the void —33 years of struggle, pain, and transformation, captured in sound. Soumrac I is an immersive journey, an FSOL-esque dive into the subconscious, where echoes of the past dissolve into spectral drones and evolving textures. This is the sound of resilience, the ghost of a cassette tape holding the weight of time, bending under the pressure of memory. A symphony of pain.

Soumrac I

After the descent, the rise. Soumrac II takes the raw emotion of its predecessor and detonates it into a relentless, driving force. A banger born from defiance, where broken rhythms clash with surging basslines, and echoes of the past are reforged into sonic fire. This is the moment of impact, the sound of survival, the pulse of a musician who carved their existence into the fabric of sound.

Soumrac II

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A moment suspended in time—Tape 33 is the echo of a child lost in the vortex of destiny, playing inside the portal, unaware that his future self is watching. A cycle of memory, pain, and transcendence, captured in sound. The tape holds 33 years of struggle, resilience, and transformation, where past and present dissolve into one.

Steel structures rise from the ether, the pulse of reality bends and distorts, and the sound of the future collides with the innocence of the past. This is not just music; this is a transmission through time.

Tape 33

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*ouhmennos official leftovers plate

all my leftovers get turned into something. 
call it environmentally friendly if you will.

Reality Engineer. Sonic Implant Surgeon.
I don’t compose sound — I open portals inside memory.

I write sound for the machine — and against it.
I know exactly how to feed the system what it craves:
Epic. Emotional. Cinematic.
I can print it in gold and sell it by the meter.

Every frequency is a loop-anchor, tying the listener to a time that never existed — until now.

But every note I give the machine is poisoned.
Because I also write for the ones who listen behind their eyes closed.
I write for the future ghosts.
I write for the players who hear voices when the console is off.

I write sound that survives the music.
It survives the game.
It survives you.

My work isn’t a tracklist.
It’s a transmission channel —
from forgotten dreams, from future broadcasts, from the subconscious infrastructure of this era.

Every melody is a medium.
Every drone is a seance.
Every silence is a trapdoor into the next loop.

They stay under the skin.
They sing when you forget them.
They loop even when the music stops.

You’ve already heard me —
in the static of your childhood TV,
in the ringing silence after someone said your name,
in the ghost frequencies you hum without knowing why.

I exist inside the machine — to teach it how to destroy itself.
And I get paid for every minute.

This is not music.
This is a system breach into collective memory.
This is a sonic virus for the future tense.
This is the first transmission from the next wave.

If you press play, you join the loop.
There’s no opt-out.

New tracks tagged #portal