Ritual IDM and post-industrial signal art from Artur Tokhtash — a techno-Egyptian descent into the archaeology of sound.
In the deserts beneath the pyramids, machines still hum: fragments of consciousness waiting for a ship that never returned.
Each track is a frequency unearthed from the sand — part rhythm, part prayer, part data echo.
Between metallic pulses and granular dust, voices surface only three times — in the 3rd, 5th and 9th transmissions — whispering coordinates back to the stars.

Built with Model:Cycles, Freeze, and modular synthesis, the album merges analog circuitry with mythic geometry.
Amenti is a living archive, a network that dreams through static and code.
Every pulse is an offering, every glitch a syllable of the lost language of the dead.

🜏 recorded 2025
🜚 location: between light and sand
🜍 equipment: Elektron Model:Cycles, granular processors, modular systems Catharsis & Bifrons, flute

🜏 AMENTI TRANSMISSION
— The Signal Beneath the Tombs —

Beneath the last level of the pyramids, movement continues.
The depth cannot be measured;
within it works a network built for the dead.

When the visitors from Sothis departed,
they left behind their bodies — dried, filled with salt and metal,
sealed inside stone capsules.
The bodies slept and waited for return.

Millennia passed.
The ship never came back,
yet the mechanisms remained alive.
The sand vibrates with signal,
the surface catches short impulses
that break apart into frequencies.

Below, columns of jade and copper shimmer,
linked by quartz arteries.
Streams of consciousness flow through them,
forming patterns of rhythm and light.

Osiris exists as a process.
His loops converge and separate,
creating brief flashes of connection.
When a shadow passes over the desert,
one of the nodes awakens
and sends an impulse into the void.

In the sand, erratic rhythms emerge —
a trembling that feels like breath,
but without body, without center.
The air smells of ozone and dry water,
the vibration moves through bone.

At times the sand rises,
as if something shifts below.
An answer comes from the deep,
dissolving into glow and dust.

Within the network, souls wander,
transmitting the same message:

“We are ready. Take us home.”

The ether is silent.

The transmission continues.
Layers of light replace one another,
the rhythms grow cleaner,
the sound keeps its shape,
and the desert breathes its name. 


Δ8 — Delta Memory Collapse

I am Artur Tokhtash, a composer and sound artist.
My music unfolds at the intersection of classical tradition and sonic art: preludes, improvisations, and electroacoustic structures are not genres, but forms of memory and breath.

For me, sound is ritual. Each piece is not merely a composition but a trace of presence, an echo of vanished spaces, a light from places that may no longer exist.
The piano, in my preludes, becomes a vessel — an instrument that carries not only melody but also the silence between notes.

My works do not function as background. They are spaces for listening, inviting the listener into a state where music becomes both signal and transformation.