Barry Under

Hydrated Lover

PYROTECHNIK IST KEIN VERBRECHEN

"Burn for U" is an uplifting trance anthem that will set your ears and questionable life choices ablaze. This pulsating track follows the passionate journey of a protagonist who apparently confused their crush with a marshmallow roast.
With a beat that hits harder than the realization you left the stove on, "burn for u" explores the fiery depths of attraction - or possibly just really bad heartburn. The lyrics speak of an inner flame, leaving listeners to wonder if it's love or if someone accidentally swallowed a trick birthday candle.
As the song builds to its euphoric climax, ravers everywhere will feel compelled to express their devotion by spontaneously combusting on the dance floor. Safety tip: Please keep fire extinguishers handy.
"Burn for U" - Because nothing says romance quite like comparing yourself to a raging inferno. Remember kids, only you can prevent forest fires... of the heart.

Burn For U

Picture this: I was making breakfast one morning, totally sleep-deprived and running on nothing but questionable coffee, when I accidentally dropped my toaster into a sink full of dishes (unplugged, thankfully). Instead of the crash I expected, it made this absolutely ridiculous "BWOMP" sound as it hit a pot.
In my caffeine-addled state, I thought "holy crap, that's a banger of a bass sound" and spent the next 6 hours recording myself dropping various kitchen appliances into my sink. My neighbors probably thought I was losing it. The microwave was particularly spicy – gave off this sweet metallic ring that ended up being the main synth line.
By hour 7, I had my roommate's cat walking across my MIDI keyboard while I threw spatulas at a hanging colander. The cat, being a cat, kept hitting the perfect notes somehow. We're talking next-level feline producer energy here.
The final touch came when I tripped over my laundry basket and faceplanted with a very musical "OOF" – which, obviously, had to become the track's signature vocal hit.
"Feel It" was born from sleep deprivation, kitchen chaos, and one musically gifted cat. Sometimes the best vibes come from embracing the absurd and just letting yourself get weird with it. Turn it up and feel those kitchen appliance frequencies in your soul. 🎵🐱🍳
(Shoutout to Mr. Whiskers for the unexpected collab, even though he's still mad about not getting producer credits)

Feel it

Let me tell you about "Be the Best" – so I was sitting there eating a ham sandwich when my pet rock Gerald suddenly grew legs and started doing the cha-cha.
(Which reminds me of that time I saw my mailman in a breakdancing competition in 1987. He lost to a very aggressive pigeon who kept screaming "THE TAXES ARE DUE" while doing windmills. The pigeon later became an accountant in Delaware.)
ANYWAY, back to the track – there I am watching Gerald serve these dance moves, when my toaster starts talking mad trash about my producing skills. The audacity, right? Especially considering last week when that same toaster tried to convince me it was the reincarnation of Mozart but could only play "Hot Cross Buns" by shooting burnt pieces of bread across the room.
So naturally, I had to prove this toaster wrong. Started laying down these beats while Gerald is still dancing – but plot twist: the ham from my sandwich had formed a small union and was now picketing on my MIDI keyboard about better working conditions.
(Speaking of unions, my left sock once tried to start one, but it fell apart when we discovered the right sock was secretly a double agent working for the washing machine. Top 10 anime betrayals, honestly.)
The real magic happened when Gerald challenged the toaster to a dance-off. Picture this: a pet rock with tiny legs hitting the meanest moonwalk you've ever seen while a toaster tries to keep up by launching bread to the beat. That's the exact energy I captured in this track.

Be the Best

Wrote "Knowledge" during a late-night session after finding an old philosophy textbook in my cereal box. Still not sure how it got there, but apparently Cap'n Crunch has some deep thoughts about epistemology.
(Sort of like that time my neighbor tried teaching his dog about tax deductions. The dog actually filed better returns than him that year, but got audited because he claimed his tennis balls as business expenses.)
Started laying down the beat while reading through the book, when my studio monitors started having this really intense debate about whether they actually exist. The left one was getting pretty heated about Descartes, while the right one just kept mumbling something about living in a simulation.
Had to take a break when my coffee mug began sharing its theory about how consciousness is just spicy water thinking about itself. Which, honestly, kind of slaps as a concept. The mug's been working on a doctoral thesis ever since, but keeps spilling its research everywhere.
(Quick flashback: This reminds me of when my USB mic spent a semester teaching philosophy at a community college. Got fired when they discovered it was actually three mice in a tiny trench coat. Still had better student reviews than the tenured professors though.)

Knowledge

So check it out - I made "You May Rock To This Sound" after getting a noise complaint from a very formal pigeon wearing a tiny suit and monocle. Mans delivered the complaint on embossed stationery and everything.
(Speaking of formal birds, remember that time my cousin tried starting an etiquette school for crows? Worked great until they started correcting everyone's table manners at public parks. Nothing more humbling than a crow judging your pizza-eating technique.)
Started working on the beat right there in my living room, when this pigeon - let's call him Sir Featherington III - actually started nodding his head to it. Next thing you know, he's loosened his tiny tie and is absolutely GETTING IT to these drums.
The track really found its groove when Sir Featherington called in his whole committee of noise complaint specialists. Picture this: six pigeons in business attire, all trying to maintain their professional composure while failing miserably at hiding their head bops.
(Quick aside: This whole scene reminded me of the time my neighbor's goldfish started a mosh pit in his tank. Turns out he was secretly into heavy metal but couldn't tell his owner because, you know, professional fish reputation to maintain.)
By the end of the session, these birds had completely abandoned their noise complaint mission. The bass was so heavy it made Sir Featherington's monocle pop off, but he was too busy hitting the cleanest pigeon moonwalk I've ever seen to care.
Now every time I play this track, I swear I can hear fancy wing claps in the background. And sometimes, if you listen real close, you might catch the sound of a tiny top hat being tipped in approval.
(P.S. - Sir Featherington now runs an underground bird rave in the park. Still wears the suit though. Says it's all about maintaining standards.) 🎵🐦🧐

You may rock to this sound

Picture a cologne so cursed it made my microphone gag - that's where "WTF, You Smell Like Shit" came from. No cap, my studio still hasn't recovered from this cursed recording session.
It all started when my roommate's pet cockroach (don't ask) decided to become a fragrance entrepreneur. Bro ordered samples from some dark web perfume dealer who only accepts payment in expired sandwich coupons and promises of eternal friendship.
The package arrived via a very distressed pigeon wearing a hazmat suit.
(Which reminds me of my cousin's brief career as a hazmat fashion designer. His "Post-Apocalyptic Prom" collection was ahead of its time, but the runway models kept passing out from heat exhaustion. The cockroaches LOVED it though - gave it a standing ovation, all six legs up.)
The moment I opened that package, my audio interface started WEEPING. Like actual tears bro. My monitors tried to escape but the smell had them so disoriented they just kept bumping into each other like drunk uncles at a wedding.

WTF, you smell like shit

So peep this - I made "High on the Views" while I was stuck in my building's elevator with this dude who swore he was a professional mountain climber but was actually just really good at playing Google Earth in VR.
(Quick throwback to when my cousin tried becoming a virtual tour guide but kept getting motion sickness from spinning the street view too fast. Had to retire after accidentally making his whole tour group throw up during a virtual visit to the Grand Canyon.)
At first we're just chillin in this elevator, buddy's showing me his "climbing footage" on his phone, when the elevator starts bugging and gets stuck between floors. Instead of calling maintenance, this man deadass sets up his VR headset and goes "Let me show you what REAL altitude feels like."
Next thing you know, we're having a full studio session right there in the elevator. My phone's propped up on the emergency call button, this dude's doing mountain climber sound effects for the beat, and the elevator's random creaking noises are actually hitting kinda hard.
(Similar energy to that time my neighbor's parakeet convinced everyone he was a skywriting pilot. Had the whole block believing he wrote those airplane messages until someone noticed he was just squawking while pointing at clouds.)

HIgh on the views

Legend has it this uplifting trance anthem was born when a sleep-deprived producer accidentally sat on his cat, who then landed on the studio keyboard while chasing a radioactive moth that had escaped from a nearby energy drink factory. The resulting melody was so bouncy that it caused his entire apartment building to start dancing, including his 89-year-old neighbor who hadn't moved from her rocking chair since 1987.
The result? A face-melting fusion of classic eurotrance and modern bounce that'll have you ascending to the astral plane faster than you can say "where did my eyebrows go?" Features those signature uplifting synths, heart-pounding beats, and a breakdown so powerful it once made an entire rave crowd levitate (security footage mysteriously disappeared).
Perfect for: Raves, festivals, or making your houseplants question their life choices. Warning: May cause spontaneous dance outbreaks and temporary belief that you can communicate with dolphins.

Want me

 "We Can't Stop (Euphoric Trance Mix)" - Miley meets Massive Melodies! 🎵
Ever wondered what happens when you take Miley's party anthem and accidentally run it through a quantum computer that was simultaneously mining bitcoin and ordering pizza? The result is this mind-bending trance remix that transformed "La-da-di-da-di" into synthesizer arpeggios that could pierce the space-time continuum.
Our producer found the perfect trance formula when his energy drink exploded onto his mixing board, creating a short circuit that somehow programmed the most euphoric breakdown known to mankind. The uplifting synths hit so hard that during the first club test, three ravers spontaneously grew glow sticks from their fingertips (medical experts are still baffled).
Turn Miley's rebellious party vibes into a transcendent trance experience that'll have you floating higher than her wrecking ball ever could. Features a buildups so intense they've been classified as an alternative energy source.
Perfect for: Raves, festivals, or convincing your pet goldfish they're at Tomorrowland. Warning: May cause involuntary fist-pumping and temporary belief that you're fluent in unicorn.

WE CANT STOP - MILEY CYRUS (Uberan Mino Trance edit)

Yo, crew! Strap in, cuz dis vid description’s gon’ melt ya brain cells like a glow stick in a microwave, innit? 🌀🔥 Presentin’ “GOING DOWN”—ya new trance/hard house rave ANTHEM dat’s crazier dan a squirrel on espresso, straight outta da dankest underground warehouse rave dis side o’ Mars. SEO? Nah, fam—we do S.E.X.Y. ELECTRONIC XPLOSIONS, yeah?

So dere I woz, right—chased by a gaggle o’ glow-painted rave zombies through a Tesco car park, when I ‘ear dis sick bassline vibratin’ me spleen. Follow da sound, yeah? End up in a secret tunnel under da kebab shop, where da walls drippin’ neon slime an’ da DJ’s a bald eagle wiv a gold chain spinnin’ vinyls wiv ‘is talons. “GOING DOWN” drops, an’ BOOM—da floor collapses into a subterranean rave cave full o’ sentient disco balls screamin’ “SHUFFLE OR DIE, FAM!”

Dis track ain’t just fire—it’s a 5-alarm synth apocalypse, blud! Da trance melodies? Sounds like da Tron soundtrack had a baby wiv a didgeridoo on Red Bull. Da hard house beats? So aggressive, me headphones filed a police report. Next fing I know, I’m skankin’ wiv a cyborg badger in a LED onesie, while a squad o’ glow-in-da-dark jellyfish drop da most psychotic dubstep remix o’ “Baby Shark” ya ever ‘eard. MADNESS!

SEO OPTIMIZED BANTS: Wanna dominate da EDM charts? Dis track’s got bass drops heavier than ya nan’s fruitcake, synthwaves crispier than a Wetherspoons pint glass, an’ BPM higher than da number o’ times ya ex slid into ya DMs last Friday. Perfect for DJ sets, club bangers, gym playlists, or exorcizin’ ya nan’s haunted juicer.

Plot twist: Da cyborg badger whips out a USB stick full o’ AI-generated rave memes, an’ we upload “GOING DOWN” straight into da clouds—literally. Now da Northern Lights are dancin’ to it, blud! Aurora Borealis? Nah, mate—Aurora BANG-REALIS! 🌌

Moral o’ da story? NEVER trust a bald eagle DJ wiv a vendetta against gravity. Stream “GOING DOWN” on Spotify, SoundCloud, an’ dat sketchy mixtape site ya cousin runs, before da Techno Illuminati ban it for “excessive vibage.” 

Going Down

🚀 Bag Raiders - "Shooting Stars" (Trance/Hard House Remix)

Experience this energetic trance/hard house remix of the iconic track "Shooting Stars" by Bag Raiders. This reimagined version takes the nostalgic original and transforms it with pulsating eurotrance rhythms, soaring synths, and thundering hard house beats.

Shooting Stars - Bag Raiders (Trance Edit by Uberan Mino)

Lean into me

Need Some Lovin

Dat Swag

Need no reason

Over U

THE TRUE STORY BEHIND THIS TRACK (You Just Weren’t Supposed to Know):
Avril Lavigne. Berlin. 2004. Techno. Betrayal. Reptilians. Bagels.

It was the spring of 2004, and Avril Lavigne had just finished her second world tour and was absolutely done with being a pop-punk princess. “Why is everything so complicated?” she screamed into a half-eaten banana while backstage in Milwaukee. Her manager, Carl — a talking lemur with a coke addiction — knew what had to be done. "You need to go home,” he said, lighting a cigarette through his elbow. “To Berlin.”

Avril, confused but vibing, nodded. She had never been to Berlin. But that didn’t matter. The next thing she knew, she was on a Ryanair flight sitting between a Slovakian DJ named DJ Tinnitus and a man in a full Shrek costume who whispered in binary. When the plane landed, Avril stepped into a city lit only by strobe lights and existential dread.

Berlin 2004 wasn’t like now. Every club was underground — literally — like 16 levels below ground, with doors guarded by chain-smoking philosophers and dogs in Matrix sunglasses. Avril wandered through the rave catacombs in search of “The Bassline Oracle,” a 9-foot-tall man named Dieter who only spoke in reversed Scooter lyrics. He told her, “If you want to uncomplicate your soul, you must surrender to the BPM.”

So she did.

What followed was a four-day non-stop rave. Avril shed her pop-punk shell like a lizard reborn. She wore a full pink camo jumpsuit, sunglasses that showed alternate timelines, and raved so hard her lip-sync tattoo turned into a QR code linking to a LiveLeak video of a hamster driving a BMW.

She danced with eurotrash vampires, made out with a guy who turned out to be two raccoons in a trench coat, and battled a sentient subwoofer that screamed "DROP THE BEAT, EH" in perfect Canadian. Somewhere between hour 37 and hour 89, Avril ascended musically and emotionally. The melody of Complicated began to echo around the room — but faster. Harder. More transcendent. The offbeat bassline vibrated reality apart like a cheap IKEA shelf.

This track is the only surviving artifact from that night. It was smuggled out on a USB stick hidden inside a bratwurst by a time-traveling German producer known only as Uberan Mino. Everyone else? Gone. Trapped in a 156 BPM loop dimension. Still raving. Still glowing.

So next time you say “Why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?” remember: maybe she had to.

For the rave.
For Berlin.
For the Lemur.

Avril Lavigne - Complicated (TRANCE REMIX by Uberan Mino)

Meet the producer who once got into a heated beatboxing battle with a confused FedEx driver who turned out to be three raccoons in a trenchcoat (they won, but only on a technicality). Legend has it that this absolute menace learned music production from a wise old vending machine that exclusively spoke in early 2000s pop lyrics and would only dispense wisdom if you fed it expired fruit snacks. The machine now works as a part-time lifecoach for squirrels with commitment issues. Producing beats from a studio that might actually be a portal to another dimension (still waiting on the inspection results, but the ghost that lives in the microwave swears it's legit). Sometimes the beats make objects float, but only on Tuesdays, and only if Mercury is in retrograde while wearing Crocs.

Uberan Mino

Pinned to spotlight

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