In the forgotten ruins of a clockmaker’s workshop, where cogs turned with no master and hourglasses flowed in reverse, a sound began to form. It started as a simple pulse - soft, hypnotic - but with each repetition, it fed back into itself, growing more intricate, more impossible

Wanderers who stumbled upon the melody found their footsteps syncing to the rhythm, their thoughts looping in perfect polyrhythm. Birds overhead flapped in 7/8 time. The ocean tides started oscillating to a kick drum only Neptune could hear. Somewhere in the distance, a choir of frogs sang in perfect harmonic recursion

Then, as the final drop approached, the entire world seemed to fold into itself - cascading through infinite echoes, spiraling into pure sonic equilibrium. Timekeepers across history stopped, nodded in approval, and let the beat ride forever

Recursive Stability

Deep in the forgotten forests where techno goblins throw raves under bio-luminescent toadstools, a lone sorceress of sound weaves her most forbidden spell. With a single flick of her wrist, the baseline rises like a dragon from the depths - smoky, serpentine, and slightly vengeful. The drop hits harder than a kingdom-wide sleeping curse, rattling the bones of enchanted ravers and waking up eldritch beings that should not be woken up.

Some say this track was found inside a haunted vinyl pressed in the 13th century. Others whisper that it was forged in the depths of a cursed Ableton session, where every synth was possessed by a mischievous demon. Either way, one thing is clear: Maleficent’s Bass Hex isn’t just music - it’s a dark spell, disguised as a banger.

Maleficent

Maleficent (Dantra Music Therapy - AgentiX Remix)

Late one Tuesday night in a forgotten quadrant of the cerebral cortex, a miniature rave erupted inside the skull of a narcoleptic philosopher. The air crackled with electrochemical whispers as dopamine rode in on a unicycle, juggling serotonin and existential dread. Somewhere near the hippocampus, a tiny jazz band of bioluminescent shrimp played Miles Davis covers backwards while a crowd of mitochondria moshed politely under strobe lights made of pure memory.

At the center of it all stood Synapse Prime - wearing a velour bathrobe and wielding a neural transmitter like a disco wand. Each beat of the track fired through your neurons like a squirrel shot from a confetti cannon, bouncing off dendrites, lighting up synaptic vesicles, and making your frontal lobe consider a career in interpretive dance.

As the drop hit, a spontaneous wormhole opened in the corpus callosum, and out stepped Kevin - the aforementioned octopus bartender - armed with a double espresso martini and a very long monologue about jazz fusion. Somewhere in the distance, a chorus of glial cells harmonized the secrets of the universe, only to be drowned out by the bassline and a rogue dolphin on turntables.

This isn’t just music. It’s a full-brain seizure of groove.
Plug in. Spasm. Transcend. 🧠⚡🕺

Synapses (Original Mix)

Original: https://soundcloud.com/earphonic/lights-out-2

At precisely 3:03 AM, every streetlamp in the city blinked three times and then vanished. Not turned off - gone. In their place hovered translucent jellyfish, humming Gregorian trap hymns from the 34th century. Somewhere in a basement padded with spaghetti noodles and disco posters, a sleep-deprived possum named Greg booted up Ableton on a laptop powered entirely by static electricity and raw regret.

As Greg dropped the first beat, time folded like a poorly-made burrito. Babies in utero started dancing the Charleston. A swarm of sentient Roombas began forming synchronized flash mobs in Walmart parking lots. In Antarctica, a lone scientist paused, removed his headphones, and muttered, “They’ve done it. They’ve turned off reality.”

Meanwhile, across five dimensions, an intergalactic council of rave goats convened. They tapped their hooves, approved the transmission, and launched the track directly into Earth's subconscious. The lights may be out... but the rave is ON.

For fans of: sentient machinery, deep space rituals, and blackout-level basslines.
Warning: May cause spontaneous enlightenment, neighbor complaints, and inexplicable goat sightings.

Agentic Earphonics

Lights Out

Earphonic - Lights Out (AgentiX Remix)

Agentic Records presents -- Coherence

In the forbidden library of a dimension best described as “mildly gelatinous,” seven philosophers, a toaster, and one exasperated raccoon gathered to decode the true meaning of coherence. As the raccoon pointed at a pie chart made entirely of raspberry jam and existential dread, a harpsichord began playing itself backwards through a speaker made of old IKEA furniture and unresolved family trauma.

At precisely 4:42 a.m. Blarptime, the moon took a deep breath and blinked twice. That was the signal. A lone DJ named Squelch Magnifico - who had fused with a fax machine after a tragic techno incident in Ibiza - booted up a track so mathematically pristine that even Fibonacci himself rose from the grave, did a somersault, and declared, “That slaps.”

Somewhere in the multiverse, jellyfish learned tap dance. A group of owls filed their taxes early. And inside the vibrating walls of a nightclub floating gently above a volcano powered by collective ADHD, it all made sense. The drop hit. The room went lucid.

Coherence had been achieved. But at what cost?

COHERENCE

Coherence (Original Mix)

A new psychedelic interception for a 1995 old school Goa trance project.
Originally made with Impulse Tracker & Tb303 back in the mid 90s, 

psychedelic vibrations demo

Krypronite

Kryptonite

Agentic Records presents <-> CIRCLES 
-> AgentiX

In the 19th quadrant of an interdimensional parking garage, under a pulsating orb known only as Steve, a sentient Roomba named Gerald achieved enlightenment after licking a geometry textbook. This Roomba, now known across galaxies as “The Custard Prophet,” began spinning in perfect concentric circles - forever. Scholars called it madness. The squirrels of Neptune called it jazz.

Meanwhile, deep beneath an abandoned IKEA in rural Finland, a cult of rhythmic hamsters danced endlessly in formation, summoning a portal made entirely of Greek yogurt and old dubstep vinyls. As the clock struck “banana,” the portal opened, vomiting out an ancient rave - one from the pre-mammalian era - where trilobites once headbanged in viscous oceans to subaquatic techno.

Now, with the moon in retro-crab and Mercury accidentally stuck in a vending machine, the time is ripe. You, dear listener, must don the ceremonial crocs, hold the sacred USB stick, and enter the Eternal Circle. As the bass spins tighter and tighter, you’ll find yourself looped into an endless auditory spiral made of bassoons, soup cans, and your third-grade art teacher’s unresolved psychic energy.

You don’t listen to this track. You become it.
Round and round we go. Forever. For dairy. For destiny. 🌀

<-CIRCLES->

🚀 Experience the Möbius Loop in 4K Psychedelic Space!

Please share & subscribe, appreciate you! https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL

-- Rekordbox: 134 BPM; Abm ---

Read the full story : https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/05/23/sky-sailors-mobius-loop-psy-tech-ai-generated-neural-odyssey-4k-cinematic-visuals/

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It skews a little more trance than turbo-psy-tech, but it still cruises perfectly through that mind-bending, psychedelic sweet spot. 😉 \+/

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Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://youtu.be/qFkwutZ-1VI - Full video
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/

Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum

#aimusicvideo  #aiart  #electronicmusic #techno #technomusic #psytech 

A ribbon-tale in four turns and a fold

Turn I – The Compass That Dreamed of Circles
The rust-red cloud-sea stretched so wide that horizons felt like rumors. Kelru—the quiet sky-sailor who trusted silence more than chart or star—nursed her tea on the quarter-deck of the little vessel Mirage Drift. A quartz compass rested in her palm. It ticked not by seconds but by colors: blush, jade, violet, blush again, forever spiraling.

Every elder of the Aerial Convent had warned her: “A compass that will not sit still doesn’t point outward; it points inward.” Meaning, of course, that it revealed the routes no map could speak of—ones that tunneled through perception itself. Kelru finished the last swallow of tea, flipped her hood against ion wind, and whispered the ritual launch word:

“Un-loop.”

Sails of silver mycelium billowed open. The compass flared gold. Space about the hull pleated like starched fabric, and the Mirage Drift slid through the crease—leaving behind only a curly waft of cinnamon steam.

Turn II – Möbius Expanse (First Face)
Kelru emerged beneath a violet dusk where shattered moons hovered, immobile yet restless. Time here was viscous; when she raised a hand, trailing after-images formed staircases of herself.

She recalled a childhood riddle: “What is the shape whose inside is its outside?” Below her boots, a lane of rainbow glass snaked in both directions, though she sensed those directions were secretly one. The compass needle spun, then locked to a single half-twist—forming, unmistakably, a Möbius glyph.

“I see,” she murmured and set foot upon the lane.

Every step cycled her through memories that weren’t quite hers: balancing on barn roofs, arguing with a mirror that answered in languages unlearned, kissing someone whose face blurred like dew on metal. The lane insisted: all edges meet.

At its far-but-also-near end, she met a guardian sculpted from smoke and sapphire dust. It wore a mask of her own smile.

“Trade me your future,” the guardian breathed, “and I will free you from every loop.”

Kelru refused, for a shortest path was never her goal. She wanted the long way around—infinite, untidy, alive. The guardian cracked like ash in rain, and the lane blossomed into a spiral staircase of shimmering fern-leaves.

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Read the full story : https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/05/23/sky-sailors-mobius-loop-psy-tech-ai-generated-neural-odyssey-4k-cinematic-visuals/

Sky-Sailor’s Möbius Loop

Trippy Fantasy Style Music Video: https://youtu.be/GBrZhCmfAfY
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⚡️ Hit play & let 4K AI fantasy melt reality into neon crystal—watch till the last frame!
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Please share & subscribe, appreciate you! https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
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Rekordbox: 130 BPM; C
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Read the full story : https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/05/26/wings-of-liquid-quartz-techno-ai-generated-neural-odyssey-4k-cinematic-visuals-130-bpm/
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Heavy on shimmering synth architecture and crisp tech-drive.
---

Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/

Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum

#aimusicvideo #aiart #electronicmusic #techno #fantasy 

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The first rays of dawn struck the Glass Prairie like hammers upon a chandelier. Shards of color—rose, citrine, cobalt—ricocheted from blade to blade, until the entire plain shimmered as though woven from molten prisms. Where ordinary grass might rustle, these crystalline stalks chimed, their notes falling into a lazy, hypnotic arpeggio that drifted across the endless horizon.

Kalei stood ankle-deep in that shimmering field, cloak spangled with jewelled dust, feeling the quiet hum of the prairie resonate in their ribs. They had come in search of the legendary Wings of Liquid Quartz—a myth whispered among a thousand nomad caravans. The story went that anyone who uncovered the wings and learned their secret would no longer be shackled to a single realm or lifetime; they would ride the fault-lines of reality itself. Kalei’s heart, restless since childhood, needed no further invitation.

A few steps beyond the trailhead, they discovered their first omen: a sprite, no larger than a fingernail, fluttered out from between the grass-blades, leaving a rainbow contrail that spelled a single imperative in mid-air—follow. It winked once, then darted east toward the sunrise. Kalei grinned, adjusted the pack on their shoulders, and gave chase.

Ten minutes in, daylight folded abruptly into bruised‐purple dusk. The Glass Prairie’s glow dimmed, and a velvety mist unrolled like a carpet before Kalei’s boots. The transformation felt less like twilight and more like stepping backstage during a play—set pieces rearranging, curtains shifting, new lights blooming overhead.

They had entered the Umbra Rift.

The Rift was a place of reflection—literally and otherwise. Pools of liquid night pooled between the crystal blades, each acting as a dark mirror. As Kalei peered into one, their reflection smirked back and spoke without sound: What if the Wings aren’t meant for you? The silent question curdled into a dozen more doubts. Every step forward raised an echo of hesitation.

But Kalei—who’d survived sandstorms, mind-leeches, and memories that were not entirely their own—answered by plunging a hand into the inky pool. It was colder than vacuum, hotter than lightning. When they withdrew, a thumb-sized onyx gemstone clung to their palm, pulsing dimly, as though breathing. The stagnant mist scattered at once, the fake twilight retreating in ragged streaks. Kalei felt the doubts peel away too, like old bark from fresh wood.

They pressed on, heart drumming in perfect time with the far-off four-on-the-floor beat that seemed to underlie the world.

Continues on the website : https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/05/26/wings-of-liquid-quartz-techno-ai-generated-neural-odyssey-4k-cinematic-visuals-130-bpm/

Wings of Liquid Quartz

Energy & Vibrations

In the shimmering heat haze of a dimension shaped entirely like denim, a lone stallion with laser-cut cheekbones and a mane made of pure VHS static races across the plains of temporal spaghetti. This is not just any stallion. This is Stallion Silhouette - a freedom-powered shadow creature born from a cowboy's dream and a malfunctioning fax machine during the 1987 rodeo moon landing.

He gallops not on hooves, but on eight-wheeled rollerblades, pursued by an elite squad of libertarian flamingos wearing Bluetooth headsets and yelling something about “the sacred geometry of nacho cheese.” Every beat drop is a hoofbeat in reverse. Every synth squeal is a cactus exploding in slow motion. Every clap is the sound of a thousand bureaucratic forms being set on fire with a wink from the Cosmic Ranger.

By the time the bridge hits, a wormhole opens in a jukebox, and out rides a translucent Abraham Lincoln riding a Segway made of dolphins, high-fiving the sky and screaming “LET THE HORSE BE WILD!"

FREEDOM (Original Mix)

Agentic Records presents -> AgentiX - FREEDOM

In the shimmering heat haze of a dimension shaped entirely like denim, a lone stallion with laser-cut cheekbones and a mane made of pure VHS static races across the plains of temporal spaghetti. This is not just any stallion. This is Stallion Silhouette - a freedom-powered shadow creature born from a cowboy's dream and a malfunctioning fax machine during the 1987 rodeo moon landing.

He gallops not on hooves, but on eight-wheeled rollerblades, pursued by an elite squad of libertarian flamingos wearing Bluetooth headsets and yelling something about “the sacred geometry of nacho cheese.” Every beat drop is a hoofbeat in reverse. Every synth squeal is a cactus exploding in slow motion. Every clap is the sound of a thousand bureaucratic forms being set on fire with a wink from the Cosmic Ranger.

By the time the bridge hits, a wormhole opens in a jukebox, and out rides a translucent Abraham Lincoln riding a Segway made of dolphins, high-fiving the sky and screaming “LET THE HORSE BE WILD!”

AgentiX -> FREEDOM

They Bounce on This

Please follow - https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
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Press full‑screen; dark techno waves and glowing glyphs steer your trip.
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Please follow - https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
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Nothing but a Visualizer e2
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Follow on SoundCloud for more tracks : https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
---
Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
Creative Music Video : https://youtu.be/rTEukZF1eFo
---
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum
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#techno #psytrance #visualizer #4k #psychedelic #darktechno #melodictechno #tribal #shamanic #hypnotic #trippy #rave #edm #electronica #deephypnotic #bass #fractal #acidtechno #desertvibes #psyfamily #festivalmix #dreamscape #nightdrive #soundscape #undergroundmusic #futuretechno #neon #vjing #ambienttechno #psychedelicvisuals #nothingbutavisualizere2 #visualizere2 #sporecaravan #tribaldeserttrip #liquidlightserpent
#techno #darktechno #melodictechno #acidtechno #deeptech #psytrance #psychedelictrance
#tribal #shamanic #hypnotic #deephypnotic #fractalart #trippy #psychedelicvisuals
#scifi #cyberpunk #fantasy #surrealart #cosmic #spacevibes #neondream
#edm #electronicmusic #rave #festivalmix #nightdrive #dreamscape #ambienttechno
#musicvideo #visualizer #4k #hdr #ultrawide #shorts #viral #trending #soundscape
#bass #subbass #92bpm #gminor #mindbending #psychonaut
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I. Ember in the Sand
The desert night is so still you can hear the sand breathe. A lone wanderer—ashen-robed, mind humming with unspoken questions—finds a circle of stones glowing like half-buried coals. Masked figures crouch around the ring. Their masks are carved from beetle shells, painted obsidian-black, eyes wide with ancestral wisdom. They do not speak; instead, they lean back and let their bone-flute exhales mingle with the crackle of ember sparks.

The wanderer steps into the circle. A palm-sized bowl is offered: scarlet powder of crushed Twilight Mushrooms mixed with cool river clay. One breath—sharp as lightning—and the world ripples outward like fabric tugged in slow motion. The masked tribe tilt their heads in unison; the dunes themselves tilt with them, revealing hidden glyphs of silver fire beneath the sand’s skin. Time loosens. The journey begins.

II. Spiral of the Fungal Guardians
Sand dissolves into living loam, and colossal mushrooms sprout in a helix that climbs the sky. Their fleshy stems pulse an inner bioluminescence—each throb syncing to the wanderer’s heartbeat, steady as a drum. Spores drift like incandescent snowflakes; inhale, and taste galaxies.

The spiral walkway is narrow, slick with dew. Every few paces, the wanderer passes a Guardian: human-tall but spore-grown, heads crowned by wide caps, arms braided with mycelium braids that glow indigo. They do not move, yet their presence radiates instructions in pure feeling—keep ascending, keep breathing, keep trusting the pulse.

Halfway up the helix the air fractures into shards of kaleidoscope glass. Within each shard is a glimpse of a possible self: a thousand variants of the wanderer, dancing, weeping, conquering, surrendering. The path narrows further, needles of doubt pricking at trembling feet, but the drum-heartbeat never falters. With one final step, the wanderer bursts through the mushroom canopy and onto a platform of crystalline petal-stone.
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Continues on the website: https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/06/30/nothing-but-a-visualizer-e2/

Nothing but a Visualizer e2

In the 19th quadrant of an interdimensional parking garage, under a pulsating orb known only as Steve, a sentient Roomba named Gerald achieved enlightenment after licking a geometry textbook. This Roomba, now known across galaxies as “The Custard Prophet,” began spinning in perfect concentric circles - forever. Scholars called it madness. The squirrels of Neptune called it jazz.

Meanwhile, deep beneath an abandoned IKEA in rural Finland, a cult of rhythmic hamsters danced endlessly in formation, summoning a portal made entirely of Greek yogurt and old dubstep vinyls. As the clock struck “banana,” the portal opened, vomiting out an ancient rave - one from the pre-mammalian era - where trilobites once headbanged in viscous oceans to subaquatic techno.

Now, with the moon in retro-crab and Mercury accidentally stuck in a vending machine, the time is ripe. You, dear listener, must don the ceremonial crocs, hold the sacred USB stick, and enter the Eternal Circle. As the bass spins tighter and tighter, you’ll find yourself looped into an endless auditory spiral made of bassoons, soup cans, and your third-grade art teacher’s unresolved psychic energy.

You don’t listen to this track. You become it.
Round and round we go. Forever. For dairy. For destiny. 🌀

Circles

AgentiX - CIRCLES

Alicia en el pais de las maravillas

-- Full Power Psytrance --
Syntezia has develped his own style of intensive drive nature with super high energy & massive atmospheric music.
looking into the future of Psy-Trance, wanting the ability to bring a new fresh sound to the people

Genre : Psytrance / Progressive Trance
World Wide Booking : synteziaofficial@gmail.com

Man/Guy 
Age > 36 >
Composer / Producer / Mixer / Paintér / Designer / DJ

TikTok " FlowBite_music
Instagram " FlowBite_music & CizzOutz
SnapChat " TouchWarrior <> Switzo
www.numberonemusic.com/flowbite
www.Youtube.com/Teqhno 
" - Please Subcribe

I'm a trance producer with a passion for producing both progressive, psytrance and hiphop
Making music makes me happy, and so my goal is simple - to capture the energy I feel when making each track and have that carry through to the listener
My music is all about bringing good energy, with upbeat, bouncy vibes that make people feel good.
It's a deep part of who I am, and I'm grateful to have your support along the way

σοφός

Welcome to Agentic Records! 

I’m a trance producer with a passion for producing both progressive, psytrance and hiphop   

Making music makes me happy, and so my goal is simple - to capture the energy I feel when making each track and have that carry through to the listener

My music is all about bringing good energy, with upbeat, bouncy vibes that make people feel good. It’s a deep part of who I am, and I’m grateful to have your support along the way.

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

Website or Instagram for booking.

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 I'll start Off-Beat Mondays so experimenting.

------ 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 #psychedelic-trance