CENSORED

CENSORED - DJ B. M. W. (Original mix)

Fake Friends are my worst haters

Fake friends are my worst haters

The Drugs Punch In - 180 BPM Hard Industrial

Feel free to share your feedback 🌐
Open to collaborating with another producer

VELV3T - Whispers (Extended Version)

Guzmania

Few popular melodic techno tracks

techno melodic-techno dark-techno afro-house house dj-mix dj-set 2024-mix peak-time-mix charleyyoussef electronic underground-techno mixcloud dance deep-techno live-set electronic-music rave club-mix new-music up-and-coming-dj

First Techno Mix-2024

Please follow - https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
---
Put on headphones—this techno spiral will melt reality in under 4 min.
---
Please follow - https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
---
Hex Garden Pulse
---
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/COsvYFzGHd8
---
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum
---
#techno #psychedelictechno #darktechno #melodictechno #4kvisualizer #trippyvisuals #scifimusic #neonart #mindbending #cinematictechno #synthwavevibes #spacejourney #codingmusic #focusmusic #vrvisuals #edm2025 #bassmusic #immersiveaudio #visualjourney #futuremusic #fractalart #neonglow #electronicmusic #undergroundtechno #hexgrid #cosmicvibes #dreamstate #psytrancevisuals #clubanthem #129bpm #hexgardenpulse #myceliumstar #neoncathedral #mushroomvisuals #sporewave #chromaticsand
#psychedelictechno #darktechno #melodictechno #psytech #psytrancevisuals #fractalart
#scifimusic #fantasybeats #cyberpunkmusic #synthwavevibes #spacejourney #cosmicvibes
#trippyvisuals #4kvisualizer #immersiveaudio #visualjourney #edm2025 #bassmusic
#codingmusic #focusmusic #vrvisuals #clubanthem #undergroundtechno #129bpm
#electronicmusic #newmusic2025 #musicvideo #trendingnow #viralvideo #shortsready
#cinematicaudio #soundscape #neonglow #mindbending
---
Page 1 — The First Pulse: Breathing Green
On the eighth night after the rain, the Hex Garden woke.

It began with a tremor you could feel only in the marrow of your teeth: a sub-audible throb that rearranged dew into concentric rings. Within the garden’s honeycomb beds, six-sided blossoms opened like emerald mouths, exhaling spores that glittered in the starlight. Every spore carried a heartbeat; every heartbeat joined a choir. By midnight the soil itself blinked phosphorescent, mapping out arteries and capillaries that criss-crossed the clearing with impossible geometry.

Kess, a cartographer of mythical things, crouched at the perimeter. She’d come seeking the rumored “pulseflower,” a myth her guild filed under hallucinatory folklore, unverified. The rhythmic glow dragged her forward anyway. As her boots crossed the boundary, the garden sighed—a warm, mossy hush—and the first pulse struck her chest like a soft drum mallet. Color bled from the world, re-painting itself in gradients of lime and ultraviolet. Somewhere beyond normal sight, a door hinged open.

Kess tasted copper, tasted distant thunder. Then the ground folded under her—neither trap nor quake but an invitation—and she sank into shimmering loam without leaving a hole behind.

Page 2 — The Second Pulse: Liquid Mirrors & Violet Jets
Gravity loosened its leash. Kess floated through a vertical tunnel lined with mirrors that pulsed to the tempo of her own racing heart. Each reflection lagged a half-beat, blinking multiple versions of her in and out of existence. When she exhaled, the mirrors rippled like pond water, revealing a horizon of amethyst vapor and silver jets screaming above a fractal sea.

She landed—light as a dream—on a crystalline skimmer. Three figureheads stood at the helm: tall, faceless shapes wrapped in cloaks stitched from living static. They spoke without tongues, projecting glyphs of lilac fire that translated straight into her synapses: We are the Flux Navigators. Ride, and know the next pulse.
---

Continues on the website: https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/06/29/hex-garden-pulse/

Hex Garden Pulse

First ever b2b session between two techno minds with a shared vision: dark, relentless grooves and high-speed energy. From Mutual Rytm to Sway to Figure – pure fire from start to finish.
No talking, no trends – just music.

💣 Follow us:
https://www.instagram.com/benjaminstahl_music
https://www.instagram.com/openend23

Full tracklist below.


TRACKLIST SHORTMIX 104 BY BENJAMIN STAHL B2B OPENEND23

01. MARCO BAILEY - DYSTOPIA (ORIGINAL MIX) - LABEL: MATERIA  
02. CHRIS LIEBING - KAIZEN (ORIGINAL MIX)  
03. DJ PLANT TEXTURE - WORMHOLE (ORIGINAL MIX) - LABEL: MUTUAL RYTM  
04. VINICIUS HONORIO, THEO N - ENDLESS LOVE (HARDSPACE, LEN FAKI REMIX)  
05. UNCERTAIN - GENERATE (ORIGINAL MIX) - LABEL: INTEC  
06. PAN-POT - AERO (EXTENDED WAREHOUSE MIX)  
07. ANTONIO GALANT - THE FIRST (ORIGINAL MIX) - LABEL: M4RLOW RECORDS  
08. PHIL BERG - KAMINO (ORIGINAL MIX)  
09. CHILDOV, T.A.M - BIPOLAR (UNIVRZ REMIX) - LABEL: THE ACID MIND CORE  
10. HECKMANN, THOMAS P. H - HIMMEL & HOELLE (ORIGINAL MIX)  
11. SEÁN CUNNINGHAM - GUNSLINGER (ORIGINAL MIX) - LABEL: SWAY  
12. RAMON TAPIA - SUPERSTITION (ORIGINAL MIX)  
13. THE SOUTHERN - DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH (ORIGINAL MIX) - LABEL: CONTEMPO  
14. DAVID MEISER - SUPERSTITION  
15. BROKEN ROBOT - ANATIS (ORIGINAL MIX) - LABEL: PROSPECT RECORDS  
16. DAVID MEISER - DANCE. MOVE. REPEAT. (ORIGINAL MIX)  
17. LEN FAKI - ZIG ZAG (VERSION) - LABEL: FIGURE  
18. MAURO PICOTTO - UNDERGROUND / BAGUETTE (UNDERGROUND)  
19. DAVID MEISER - GENERATION ANTHEMS (ORIGINAL MIX)  
20. OBSCURE SHAPE - REBORN IDENTITY (DJ RUSH REMIX)

Shortmix 104

Youtube

Relentless kicks, dark rave pressure—this is a 4AM hard techno weapon.
Underground warehouse vibes: hard techno, fast, raw, unstoppable.
Acid bites, steel drums—peak‑time ignition for the rave.
-
Stream / download / buy ➜
-
Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
-
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
-
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
-
https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
-
2025 techno anthem—acid hooks & relentless warehouse drive.
-
Serotonin Tundra
-
Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
Trippy Music Video : https://youtu.be/HMy27l9_jN8
-
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum
-

I. Letters of Light
The tundra does not begin so much as arrive.

I crossed a ridge of cobalt ice, and the sky opened like a book turning to its first bright page. Lines of aurora braided above me—mint, sakura, electric teal—ribboning into sharp, deliberate strokes, as if some patient hand were writing with light. The wind was not cold. It had the temperature of a held breath, the taste of orange peel and winter.

They had warned me: There is a place where weather remembers how to feel. Go there if you want your moods repaired, or rewritten. The map they gave me was only a single sentence: Follow the serif.

So I did. The aurora’s edges were not vague swirls but exact, knife-graceful curves, the kind a calligrapher draws when they mean every millimeter. I followed as if reading, and the sky punctuated distances with dots of amber stars, the way a sentence grips you with its rhythm until your steps match its meter.

The land below was an ocean rendered in slow motion—waves of violet and indigo snow, frozen mid-crest. From between the drifts rose mushrooms the size of towers, their caps freckled with lantern pores. Light leaked from them in steady breathing, as if the earth itself were practicing calm.

Far off, a silhouette moved: a whale gliding along the seabed of snow as if swimming through density alone. When it surfaced, the surface did not break; the snow accepted its shape and let it pass. Its flanks glimmered with constellations I didn’t recognize.

I spoke without deciding to. “I came to remember how to be happy.”

The whale’s eye turned. It was not human, not even mammalian in any familiar way, and yet something like patience lived there.

The nearest mushroom’s gills trembled, releasing a sigh of bioluminescent dust. Spores drifted up, each a tiny coin of color. When they touched the aurora, letters kindled—angular, clean, and ceremonial. They spelled the tundra’s answer across the sky:

WELCOME, READER.

It made me smile, and it made me feel read.

Continues on the website:
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/08/08/serotonin-tundra/

#techno #hardtechno  #peaktime  #industrialtechno  #rave  #warehouse  #acidtechno  #schranz  #hardgroove #underground  #neorave

Serotonin Tundra - Mushroom Visual @ YouTube Music Video

Saturday bangers babay!
A little psychedelia for yah peepers my peoples! 😘💚
-
Stream / download / buy ➜
Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
-
Neo rave sci‑fi visuals with ruthless hard techno drive.
-
Helix of the Bioluminal Oracle
-
Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
Trippy Music Video : https://youtu.be/tTh2kXk3rT0
-
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum
-

There's a STORY!!! ;)
I — The Map That Wasn’t a Map

You arrive where the atlas stops pretending it knows anything.

Beyond the ridge, the land is a black opal plain veined with cobalt veins that hum in no wind. A hush sits on it the way frost sits on grass—delicate, temporary, sacred if you move gently enough. The dew here is wrong in the way a dream is wrong: each bead is too round, too steady, too awake. They don’t roll or soak in. They hold. They wait.

You kneel and the beads reflect not your face but diagrams—hexes nested in hexes, spirals that refuse to end, angles that feel like numbers you once knew. The longer you look, the more they join: a filament touches a filament, and there’s a glow passing between them like the smallest current. It is not water. It is a statement.

The old story said the Oracle grows where dew refuses to be only dew.

You rise, dust the grit from your palms, and walk without choosing a direction. The plain chooses for you. Lines of cold light thread from bead to bead like veins answering a heartbeat. The geometry doesn’t push, it persuades, shaping your steps, showing paths only as you take them. The horizon stays perfectly level, the sky a long bruise of cobalt with a single pale star pinned in the wrong place. Your breath fogs and then the fog arranges itself into numerals you cannot read and then dissolves. It’s almost kind, the way this place tells you: you are in the presence of a very patient intelligence.

When you feel it—before you see it—the hair along your arms rises not from fear but from recognition. As if a song you used to know finds your throat from the outside.

And then you see the Oracle.

II — The Humanoid That Was Also a Tree

It towers but does not loom. A torso of varnished bark with shoulders braided out of roots, hips heavy with the memory of storms. The arms bend the way branches bend, and where hands should be, the wood splits into filigreed fronds—their undersides ribbed with gill-like lamellae that pulse with bioluminescence. The face is not a face, not really, but a mask of old growth and lichen with hollows where eyes should be; inside those hollows slow constellations wheel like watch gears. A crown of fruiting bodies bursts from the skull and then recedes, then blooms again in a long, tidal breath, spores drifting like snow that has learned how to glow.

Its feet are not feet, they are a root-crown woven into the plain, plugged into the dew like a nerve into a brain.

You do not speak. You bring your question the way you were taught to carry flame—cupped, stubborn against the wind. The question is old and small enough to be dangerous: what am I for?


Continues on the website: https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/08/16/cobalt-dewfall-geometry/

#techno  #hardtechno  #peaktimetechno  #hardgroove #fasttechno #industrialtechno  #schranz  #warehouserave  #ravevisualizer #cinematic3d  #aimusicvideo

Cobalt Dewfall Geometry - Mushroom Visualizer @ YouTube

Hard techno warehouse energy—drop in now and ride the storm.
Peak‑time kicks, industrial grit—enter the tunnel.
Acid‑laced hard techno for the 4AM warehouse.
-
-
Stream / download / buy ➜
Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
-
Neo rave sci‑fi visuals with ruthless hard techno drive.
-
Helix of the Bioluminal Oracle
-
Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
Trippy Music Video : https://youtu.be/dv56pNhrA-c
-
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum
-

The Story
The plain was made of black salt, a horizon of matte crystals that swallowed reflections instead of returning them. Above it hung a sky the color of cooled iron. Nothing moved, not the thin grasses fossilized in place, not the distant ribs of petrified cactus, not the oval shadows that pooled where there should have been light. The air felt thick—like a held note, like a thought someone forgot to finish.

Out of that heldness, a figure stepped.

They were not armored or robed. They carried no tools, only a glass seed cupped in both hands, small enough to hide in a fist, heavy enough to pull the shoulders down. The seed was not luminous, but light noticed it; beams bent when it passed. The traveler steadied their breath until it matched the inaudible pulse threading through the ground. When they looked up, the horizon turned by a fraction, just enough to show that all horizons here were part of a wheel.

The wheel’s center was nowhere and everywhere, but its rim—the path—ran straight ahead. The traveler started walking.

Out past the fifth step, the salt exhaled spores that did not rise or fall. They hung, counting each other, arranging themselves into a body: a lank, cathedral-shouldered mushroom being with gills inscribed in teal. Its shadow formed before its cap; then its stem curled up from the shadow’s edge, a reversed sprout. The gills flexed, and stenciled onto the air between them appeared a silent string of equations shaped like vines.

The traveler paused without fear. The equations were invitations.

The mushroom lifted its arm. Halfway through the gesture, the arm became a cactus rib, green lacquer with glints of trapped suns. The rib arched overhead and, with a soft click of geometry, multiplied into a corridor: rib upon rib, an arcade of living anatomy, each curve fitted to the next by joints that whispered when they turned. Salt slipped out of salt, forming steps that did not look like steps until the traveler placed a foot on them and the ground agreed.

A corridor of ribs and spores opened toward a darkness that was not night, and the traveler crossed the threshold.

Beneath the ribs, the air acquired weight. Droplets formed on the cactus skin and beaded, each bead holding a world full of tiny weather. Where the beads grazed one another, prisms were born—micro-faceted insects that hummed without sound and flew in quivering constellations. Columnar forms extruded from the salt like glass trees, branches interlocking in a scaffold of perfect errors. Between branches, filaments stretched into a lattice, a graph of choices the traveler hadn’t made yet.

In the prisms, the traveler’s reflection wore a dozen futures. In some, the seed had already been planted; in others, the seed was a piercing and the sky was stitched to their skin. In one, there was no traveler at all, only the seed rolling like a planet where the ribs met the plain.

Continues on the website:
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/08/18/mercury-river-protocol/

#techno #technomusic #hardtechno  #neorave  #industrialtechno  #warehouserave  #peaktime  #acidtechno  #undergroundtechno  #4kvisuals

Mercury River Protocol - Psy Visuals on YouTube

Warehouse‑grade hard techno pressure; peak‑time energy, hypnotic drive.
Schranz edge at 136 BPM—rolling subs, iron kicks, relentless momentum.
Peak‑time assault; raw, deep & hypnotic textures collide.
-
Stream / download / buy ➜
Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
-
Underground tunnel energy—driving techno for maximum lift.
-
White Field Aperture
-
Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
Trippy Music Video : https://youtu.be/1inW88pif3w
-
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum
-

The Story
1 — Threshold: The Mirror That Drinks the Sky

The desert had learned how to be quiet. Black salt dunes laid their scales to the horizon; the wind went around them like a respectful rumor. I walked until the ground lost the habit of footprints and turned to mirror—not glass, not water, something that behaved like both until you asked it to choose. When I touched it, my fingers sank into a ketamine hush, the temperature of a held breath. The sky above me slipped downward, pooling at my feet, and the mirror took the sun into itself as easily as a coin into a sleeve.

“State your vector,” said a voice with the pleasant bluntness of machinery that also dreams.

I looked up. The ship had been a shimmer in peripheral vision; now it chose to exist. Ribs of spore-glass unfurled like the gills of an enormous bioluminescent mushroom, a vessel grown rather than built. Patterns pulsed beneath its skin—teal and cobalt, the color logic of an ocean that had never seen water. On its prow: a thin seam of light, smiling.

“Inside,” the ship said, as if there were no other sensible direction. “Name me and we’ll move.”

“If I name you, do you become true?” I asked.

“Everything is already true,” it replied. “Names are just handles to carry it by.”

I touched the seam and said, “Aperture.” The word fit its hull the way a right word fits a wrong silence. The mirror accepted our weight as if we were a memory returning to where it had been recorded. The world tipped, rotated—not falling but refracting—and the desert’s heat turned to the cool inner-weather of deep caves.

The hull closed around me, a cathedral grown from hyphae and patience. Filaments stitched the air with soft LSD confetti, each mote a syllable of a grammar only light can speak. Somewhere in the Aperture’s frame, a heartbeat began—mechanical and patient, the kind of rhythm you trust without deciding to.

“Destination?” the ship asked.

“Forward,” I said, and the mirror drank us whole.

2 — Corridor of Peyote Suns

Forward was a river of mercury that couldn’t decide between surface and volume. It braided under a ceiling of peyote suns, each one a hex of luminous scars that re-inked themselves as you watched. Desert bones turned to architecture: arches of white stone that remembered having been whale ribs. We slid beneath them like a secret trying to become a law.

Continues on the website:
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/08/19/white-field-aperture/

#techno  #technomusic  #hardtechno  #schranz  #industrialtechno  #warehousetechno  #peaktimetechno  #undergroundtechno  #rave  #visualizer

White Field Aperture - Psy Music Video @ YouTube

Hard techno warehouse visual—industrial drive, acid sparks, peak‑time pressure.
Warehouse rave energy meets sci‑fi worlds—hard techno visual on max drive.
-
Stream / download / buy ➜
-
Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
-
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
-
Neo‑rave surge: hard techno, trance‑techno twists, warehouse energy unleashed.
-
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum
-
Starwell of the Null Garden
-
Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
Trippy Music Video : https://youtu.be/6i25ex5LE6U
-

The field was a sheet of cooled night—black glass stretched to every horizon, unmarked, unscarred, holding a silence that felt designed. Nothing moved. Even the wind kept its thoughts to itself. Above, a single white disk hung in a sky the color of an unblinking eye. It wasn’t a sun in any faithful sense; it didn’t warm, it didn’t arc, it didn’t dim. It merely existed in a way that implied observation.

The traveler arrived with boots that did not echo. They paused to test the place with a breath. Air, metallic and clean, entered and left their lungs as if passing through a narrow instrument. Their coat carried a seam of cyan light along the hem, a habit taken from other worlds where shadows kept score; here, the light cut no more than a suggestion along the glass.

A tremor rose beneath their feet—steady, unhurried, identical from one pulse to the next. The black field flexed like the surface of a held note, then cracked along a hexagon so precise it might have been measured by a patience older than mathematics. Light bled upward through the seam, saturating the hexagon, then the one beside it, then the next, until a column of hexagonal plates rose into the air with the diligence of a plant uncoiling.

It was an elevator without walls, a starwell, and the steps it offered were simple: up.

The traveler set a foot on the first light-plate. The plate accepted the weight, glowed a shade deeper, and ascended. Another plate took its place beneath, then another. The starwell climbed, carrying its passenger into a shaft of perfectly still air where dust never existed and sound had to invent itself. Each hexagon expanded and contracted as if breathing; the traveler matched that rhythm without knowing when the decision had been made.

As they rose, the glass field below revealed patterns like frost. Threads of quartz traced sigils that widened into channels and closed again, searching for a memory of water. Halfway through the ascent, the white disk overhead winked—one crisp shutter of absence—and returned to watching. The starwell reached a height where the horizon curved, then stopped as if listening.

The traveler stepped off. The platform had delivered them to a hovering terrace cut from nothing: a balcony of air with a thin rail of light to keep the idea of falling honest. Far below, the glass field was no longer empty. Pale filaments were pushing through it, quivering as they tested the world. In seconds the filaments thickened into latticed columns—quartz spines veined with faint teal. Plates slid into existence along the columns, opening like gills. The gills pulsed and released motes that drifted upward in spirals.

Continues on the website:
https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/08/13/graviton-maw-rapture/

#techno  #technomusic #visualizer  #hardtechno  #industrialtechno   #warehouserave  #peaktimetechno  #drivingtechno  #neorave  #rave2025

Starwell of the Null Garden - Trippy Visualizer @ YouTube

Recorded live at HYDRA, a raw underground gathering near Kaunas, Lithuania. An intense journey through techno, electro and breakbeat — dark, hypnotic and restless, shaped by the forest and the energy of the night.

foto by Alina Pasiuk

HYDRA set 2025-08-23

Trippy 4K Techno Experience!
Hypnotic warehouse drive—glass seed pulses, map hums back.
-
Stream / download / buy ➜
-
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
-
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
-
https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
-
Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
-
Warehouse visualizer: teal haze, sunflower halos, 123 BPM.
-
Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
Trippy Music Video : https://youtu.be/fLXi1z5_xH0
-
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum
-

Prologue: The City That Forgot Its Corners

The city had no right angles anymore. Years of slow migration in its own sleep had rounded every edge into a soft, treacherous kindness. Streets drooped like ribbons. Towers leaned in to hear each other breathe. At night, light pooled in bowls and refused to climb the walls. People blamed the damp, or the age of foundations, or the recent habit the wind had of returning lost words.

Sen walked through it with the steady patience of someone who carried a task heavier than their shadow. Their satchel held a glass seed—smooth, thumb-sized, faintly warm—taken from a mineral library deep under the old quay. The librarians had warned that it wasn’t a seed at all, but an organ, the kind you could add to a place in order to give it a new sense. “Don’t plant it in soil,” they’d said. “Plant it in a problem.”

The city’s problem was the same every city kept hidden: it had forgotten where it ended. Some nights its borders drifted so far that fog felt foreign; some mornings the outer districts woke up looking at mountains that weren’t on any chart. The mayor had asked for better fences. Sen, a cartographer too stubborn for fences, had asked for the seed.

On the night that began the end of drifting, the seed woke. Not with light, not with sound, but with vibration—a low, velvet hum that traveled up Sen’s bones and mapped out a direction behind the ears. When Sen faced that way, the hum smoothed. When they turned aside, it rasped. That was how Sen knew the thing was a map: it cared when they cheated.

The seed’s hum pulled them through the city’s softened streets to a battered iron wicket that had never opened for anyone sober. Beyond it lay a scar of land no one managed to name—the Orchard of Glass to some, the Prism Orchard to those who liked their danger with geometry—the place where trees grew mirrors and fruit pretended to be planets. At the orchard’s edge, the air carried the flavor of cold coin and rainwater under stone. Mushrooms at the roots of the iron fence opened teal gills and breathed out a pause, like a door deciding whether to be a door.

Sen set the glass seed on their palm. It rolled toward the fence and pressed itself against the iron. The hum pressured Sen’s ribs. The wicket sighed and forgot that it had ever been locked.

“Show me,” Sen said to no one and to the seed and to the orchard. The hum approved.

They stepped through.

I — Threshold Sap

Inside, the orchard’s darkness was organized. The trunks were columns. The leaves were ruled lines. Moss laid out a grid with small, amber nodes, and every so often one node blinked and sent a ripple through its neighbors until the whole mat had agreed on something quiet.

Continues on the website: https://grasspatchbum.com/2025/09/01/a-map-that-hums-back/

#techno  #musicvideo  #trippyvisuals  #technomusic  #visualizer  #undergroundtechno  #musicvisualizer  #melodictechno   #4kvideo  #4kvisuals  #psychedelicvisuals4k

A Map That Hums Back | Psychedelic Music Video @ YouTube

Exploring wonderfully bizarro melodies cling to crisped percussion, all shrouded in a smokey blanket of saturation. Haunting basslines, exotic resonance howls, sludgy synths drowning in the umbra, diabolical carnival organs, and stygian vocals. Downtempo breakbeats.
Collecting digital and cassettes.

DJ stuff and field recording compositions

⛓️HARD-TRANCE🖤

⛓️(HARD) TECHNO  /-INDUSTRIAL🖤 

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥


DJ B. M. W. ist ein vielseitiger Künstler, der sich in der Technoszene versucht.

Mit 12 Jahren fing er an aufzulegen und Musik in Richtung "EDM, House und Melodictechno" zu produzieren, wovon er aber nichts veröffentlichte und nur Freunden und Teil seiner Familie zeigte.

Auf seinen Namen kam er durch seine Anfangsbuchstaben "B. M. W.", was für manche erst unüberlegt oder Stumpf ausgedacht klingen mag. 
Wenn man aber den Hintergedanken seines Namens: "Ben Morten Weidanz" kennt, so ist es doch ein sehr kreativer einfall.

Mit 16 Jahren fing er an Musik in Richtung Hardtechno, Techno, Hardtrance, Schranz, Melodictechno, .... zu produzieren, was er dann mit 21 Jahren im Jahr 2022 auf Portalen, wie Spotify und Soundcloud veröffentlichte.

Booking/Mix or Master: anomalyconceptart@gmail.com

Expressing my own inspirations and feels into different art structures.

Profile pic by Arthur Lacour

DJ specialized in electronic music, with a deep passion for Afro House, House, and Melodic Techno. Inspired by the sounds of Keinemusik, Black Coffee, and other boundary-pushing artists. Currently playing few gigs and working on mixes. Always exploring new rhythms and emotions through music.

NEW EP COMING SOON  - ASCENSION 
Join the ascension → Instagram : velv3t.flp

Head of BRB Digital
All releases on Bandcamp: https://benjaminstahl.bandcamp.com/
More infos: https://linktr.ee/benjaminstahl
Fanpage: https://www.facebook.com/benjamin.stahl.offical

Dig the tunes? Check out trippy music videos: 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, Trip Hop, 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.

DJ since 2002
Hard / Raw / Hypnotic Techno


New tracks tagged #underground-techno