Youtube channel: www.youtube.com/channel/UC4fBgprG0xvkUNw9PmXKGVg

Spotify:
https://open.spotify.com/artist/6ICBX8KnnDrOOvXbwxtQdJ?si=uRJO3HorQROSa1kXgR2TFA

Contact: djvalveder@gmail.com

C Y B E R W O R L D

Rapture

oblivion

Spotify

Nixyy - Everflow

first time

stream / download: https://e-muzyka.ffm.to/unknownbytesrewind

A chillout track that seamlessly blends elements of modern breakbeat, ambient, trance, and synthpop - this is how the production of "Rewind" by unknownbytes can be briefly described. Listening to it may make you want to take the title literally, rewind the track and play it once again, drawn in by its atmosphere and structure. It is ideal for listening to while driving in the city or while hiking on mountain trails.

💻 unknownbytes online:
https://www.instagram.com/unknownbytes_/
https://twitter.com/unknownbytes_
https://soundcloud.com/unknownbytes

💿 ONIONWAVE online:
https://onionwave.com
https://soundcloud.com/onionwave
https://facebook.com/onionwaverec
https://instagram.com/onionwave
https://twitter.com/onionwaverec

Rewind

Rewind [OWV072]

SEND FOR MURKISH AND KALEIDOKITTY [WARDUBS S4]

Sample taken from SICCEM by the goat BLH

Response to @murkish @typeamusic and @user-124579228 

https://www.instagram.com/asiel_type_a/


Sending for: @tomoyu @user-685905739 and @iamspellbook

BUTCHER SHOP [W4R DUB]

Endless Cosmos

🌑 THE NIGHT‑BORN CANTICLE
A small ritual for those who listen in the dark

In the hour when shadows forget their names,
a slow pulse rises from the sand —
a circle of four chords, turning like an old lantern,
calling the wanderer into the quiet ceremony.

Guitars whisper in tremolo,
threads of silver pulled through the night air.
A bassline coils beneath them,
warm, patient, ominous,
as if guarding a secret no one remembers.

Percussion appears only when the spirits allow it:
🥁 a palm on stretched skin,
🔨 a wooden click,
🌑 a low pulse echoing under the ribs.
Nothing marches. Everything breathes.

Above, the temple hums:
🕸️ organ‑drones like distant constellations,
🌫️ detuned harmonics bending like incense smoke,
📼 tape‑warps drifting in and out of time
— the sound of an ancient room exhaling.

And then the voice:
a wind‑carried murmur,
half‑chant, half‑shadow,
never asking to be understood,
only to be followed.

This is not a song.
It is a threshold.
A small door in the desert night.
A ritual that opens only for those who walk slowly.

Mario‑core.
Collettivo‑dark‑core.
A vibration carved in the dark.