Ride a bioluminescent wave to the heart of the galaxy—no psychedelics required.
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Sporewave Overdrive
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Creative Music Video : https://youtu.be/rMp49rXUTaA
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#sporewave #psychedelictechno #cosmicvisuals #trippymusic #scifiart
#fantasyworlds #neonmushrooms #bioluminescence #125bpm #darktechno #mycelium #galacticjourney #spaceodyssey #undergroundtechno #visualmusic #trancefam #edmcommunity #vaporwavevibes #audioreactive #progressivetechno #cyberfantasy #cosmicvibes #nightdrive #synthwaveart #futuristicbeats
#atmospherictechno #hypnoticgrooves #dreamscape #mindbending #4kvisuals 
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— Page 1 —
A single pulse shook the abandoned moon of Serrath-9, rolling across iron dunes like distant thunder. Frost-coated pylons—remnants of a long-dead observatory—flashed with ghostly ultraviolet runes. Vera Flux, quantum cartographer, knelt beside a circular glyph etched into the sand. She pressed her gauntlet to the sigil, and an emerald shockwave raced outward, peeling open a portal that smelled of petrichor and static.

Beside her, K’to the Seeker—a bio-forged being woven from filamentous fungi and liquid chrome—extended a tendril to steady the tear in space-time. Mycelial threads glistened along his arm, each one humming the same subterranean note: a low G that matched Vera’s own heartbeat.

They had come to find the Pulse-Spire, a living tower rumored to recalibrate reality itself. No vessel could reach it by conventional means; only the Sporewave, an interdimensional tide of sentient spores, could ferry travelers across the void. And it was rising—right on cue—beneath the portal’s rim.

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The leap felt like sliding through liquid glass. Light fractured, reassembled, and then exploded into a river of bioluminescent particles: the Sporewave. Each spore was a microscopic eye reflecting whole galaxies. Vera and K’to surfed its crest on boards formed from crystallized intent, gravity forgotten.

Currents of color rippled beneath them—violet cyclones, crimson geysers—each one broadcasting whispered memories of extinct civilizations. The wave’s roar twisted into ancient songs, promising revelation or ruin with every bend. Vera leaned forward, hair dissolving into photon mist, steering toward faint flashes ahead: the Spire’s heartbeat, thundering like a subterranean drum.

But the Sporewave was capricious. A maelstrom of prismatic shards spun into view, morphing into a colossal helix. It yanked them sideways, dumping them into a Silence Rift—a pocket where sound, time, and thought collapsed into a single unmoving point. Their momentum vanished; so did color. Only a monochrome horizon remained.
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Continues on the website & if you're into manga, there's manga depictions of the story!
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/06/19/sporewave-overdrive/

Sporewave Overdrive

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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Trippy Sci-fi Music Video : https://youtu.be/3vdO41-t7BU
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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 #sci‑fi