Psyler is a mixed media arts curator, dj, producer and obtainer of antiquities.  

Before time was known to be a physical interlocked rule of nature. When life was nothing but mere primordial stew oozing, bubbling and slurping though mother earths veins.  With a violent crack sliding throughout the now very quiet antisocial universe, there was heard a devastating sonic discord tearing at the seams of the atmosphere.  In a cacophony of chaotic vibrational pandemonium, birthed though what they called "Red Smoke" a massive meteorite emerged descending towards this young round object now referred to as Earth.  Nothing like this event had ever been witnessed and never will be again in this realm.  Even the gods were thrown back in their expensive gold and ivory lazy-boy's their pipes strewn though centuries. 

Little be known this massive meteor was carrying a very intriguing cargo… 

A strange bio-matter from another universe, unspeakably distant (distant indeed) from this hilarious solar system was stowed away frozen in peace.  This bulky, unflattering and odd shaped vessel compacted the dirt with such force it sent shock waves though time-space and YES!  Twas' even felt in the nether sectors cognitive ether-sphere of "life/brain-cloud". This location that had been chosen for landing was prefect for life to prosper as well as vastly unappealing, at the time.  The right type of footwear to traverse this muck had yet to be manifested. This murky bog swamp, somewhere privy to the coast of what we now consider "South America" had been chosen as it's final stop on 3 trillion light-year trip though the tangible Multiverse. 

Out of the ashes of this Moldavite super-storm the once frozen and preserved bacteria began to take form and grow. Spreading like wildfire this awkward mass was rapidly evolving and beginning to take shape.  This atypical life form wasn't going to let this foreign territory overcome it's destiny. Source had chosen this fractal timeline and location and Source gets what Source wants.  Source longs and beckons for harmony to once more reign true. The very entity that created all of what you see, hear, and experience.  You see sometime not too long after this big-bang business the nomenclature we call Source became weary of the bellowing of gaseous unbearable frequencies this universe's planets were expelling.   Without rest Uranus and Neptune would inhale gasses from Jupiter and fail miserably trying to mock the beautiful songs the plants and trees from Nibiru and Earth would sing. 

Surpassing the chaotic bombardment of sound waves upon his arrival and ages along the chain of evolution. Pslyer has strived to bring himself to a very much balanced sonance.  It's about time since he road in here on a damn fiery rock devastating the ear holes of any life form that possessed this sense.  He made a pact with mother earth and source to one day write and perform a symphony that would revoke his rude thunderous entrance to this world.  Traversing the auric kingdom comes as first nature to this interesting light being.  Instantly you will notice something unfamiliar maybe mysterious and misunderstood yet inviting and warm. In his expansive travels though the dimensions he hath found his home in the formidable swamp.  And he has chosen a very comfy bog the natives call, Los Angeles.

In a clearing at the center of a seemingly endless wood, between the twisting branches of century old trees and the tall grasses of a land still untouched by our modern age, is Lake Blackwater. This particular lake isn't one you'll find on a map or inside the pages of a book; this particular lake exists between the physical world and the fantastic. The unfortunate few that find themselves on the sandy banks of Blackwater are souls who've lost their way; who have become detached. There is a power here; and with the ferocity of a great beast the lake consumes them one by one. Soul by soul. As they disappear beneath the surface the waters absorb their tragic stories, forever keeping them locked within. 

Every now and again, the unlucky few that have been absorbed by Blackwater bubble their way to the surface and they'd like, more than anything, to share their stories with you. 

From the creators of the 2016 Podcast Awards Nominated "Horrorfied Podcast" comes "Tales from Blackwater", a bi-monthly foray into horror fiction. 

With the help of their own David R. Mitchell and writers and artists from every corner of the internet - "Tales from Blackwater" brings to the table original tales of things that go bump in the night, strange happenings, alien abductions, and murder most fowl. 

Join David, Ian, Justin, Producer Xack, and scores of other creatives as they dive headfirst into the murky waters of Lake Blackwater to try to find the most horrifying tales guaranteed scare, disturb, and terrify. 

"Tales from Blackwater" and "The Horrorfied Podcast" are an Authentically Odd/Ash Tree Lane production. All original stories are property of their creators and have been used with the permission. Stories featured on "Tales from Blackwater" cannot be reproduced without express permission of their creators. 

"Tales from Blackwater" and "The Horrorfied Podcast" are produced at JBR Studios in Chicago, IL and Authentically Odd Studios in Itasca, IL. All shows are mixed and produced by Xack Brame unless otherwise specified. 

Hi! I'm Murky and I like to sing~
I like to sing as often as possible, but college life is full of work so sometimes I'll be pretty inactive ; o ; 
It'll be mainly vocaloid/anime covers, maybe a few odd covers YouTube won't allow me to upload due to copyright ^^;
I hope you enjoy your time here! If you like what you hear please visit my YouTube and show your support! :3
~Murky

My name is John Saunders, I am a songwriter and musician (for want of a better terminology) and I am the author of 'The Vernham Chronicles' my first novel. This page is a place where I shall be uploading songs and instrumentals that are designed to accompany an audio version of my book should the opportunity arise.
There are 3 instrumentals here not connected with The Vernham Chronicles and come from my murky past as part of an ongoing body of work called 'Filmless Soundtracks' that hails from the early 1980s.
The Vernham Chronicles’, John Saunders’ first book, is a charming light comedy with a schoolboy sense of humour that is perhaps a little dark around the edges at times, it features twelve chapters, ten of which detail a day or event in the life throughout a year of a little fantasy village called Vernham. Two chapters are dedicated to complete and utter nonsense, one recounting characters and events of Vernham past (Of Idiosyncrasies, Ideas and Idiots), the other details the farcical happenings in the Vernham native’s lives (Vernham Gossip Update).
‘The Vernham Chronicles’ confuses fact with fiction, merging historical events with complete fabrication. It is written as a narrative in the present tense, with the odd recycled joke, in a children’s story style which is often sarcastic, and the occasional digression and flashback to previous events that explain the reasons behind the current situation.
The little village of Vernham, buried deep in the Vernbury Vale, is a hive of activity with its natives going about their everyday business in sometimes less than conventional ways. Almost frozen in time, where its populace struggle to come to terms with the modern day, Vernham village refuses to recognise the £1 coin, only £1 notes are accepted in its shops. For visitors to Vernham, or ‘Spruggles’ as the Vernhamites call them, the £1 notes are printed in the city of Busted at the back of a Bureau de Change, where the exchange rate is £1.20p to £1 note, and when the need to change notes back to coins arises you’ll only get 80p in return for your £1 note. The characters are all a bit odd, there is the local Bobby PC Fred Sweetman who has a strange habit which is revealed in chapter two, a Fire Chief that is irresponsible with matches, Mrs Bunkerton who’s been recently widowed seven years ago as she tells everybody every day, she also suffers from a strange obsessive compulsive disorder and irritable bowel syndrome, but we won’t mention too much about the latter. A very alcoholic Reverend Parsworthy, always collecting for the Church door fund, and spending the proceeds in the local pub ’The Grummet and Nut’, the door never gets bought. And the star ‘Mr Robson the counterfeit Scotsman’, seemingly ubiquitous and irritating, convinced of his Scottish ancestry and past lives after he had a dream about Rabbie Burns, which he wrongly refers to as his ‘post monition‘, a warning after the event. Mr Robson of course has always been a Vernhamite, as were all of his ancestors, he’s quite mad. The final chapter sees Mr Robson realising his Celtic dream at a Christmas party, in a sad but very sweet way.
<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vernham-Chronicles-John-Saunders/dp/1907499598/ref" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vernham-Chronicles-John-Saunders/dp/1907499598/ref</a>=sr_1_1?s=books&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1317379163&amp;sr=1-1

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Slim Twig is a man, not a band. In the last 2 years (spent reclusively recording), the distinction has had to be made, as the once solo performer has more readily incorporated collaboration, most obviously by employing a crack accompanying band.

This development should come as little surprise; Slim Twig has torn through enough ideas and styles to finance a fistful of bands since releasing his first EPs in 2008. These earlier explorations include the prescient flirtation with an avant-rockabilly sensibility on Vernacular Violence (2008), and his full-length debut, Contempt! (2009), a re-appropriation of off-kilter sampling techniques gleaned from the RZA and Madlib, and presented in a decidedly un-Hip Hop-like format. The latter record stands out as one of the most strangely singular records released on a major Canadian indie label, and as an unsung pre-cursor to the solo, sample-based, oddball pop that by 2012, has become commonplace.

Since those early recordings, Slim Twig has largely retreated to his studio life. He surfaced briefly to release A Sheik In Scores (2010), his cassette-only follow-up to Contempt!, and to perform in and score the soundtrack to a feature film entitled Sight Unseen, a collaboration with his filmmaker-parents. Late 2011 marked a brief re-emergence; a string of shows with his new band debuting in support of like-minded oddballs, Timber Timbre, preceded the release of a split record with U.S. Girls on FatCat subsidiary, Palmist Records. This release set the stage for the artist's latest role, that of producer. 

 Although an emphasis on intricate and meticulous production has been a hallmark of Slim's recorded output, collaborating with an outside artist allowed him to truly expand upon and embrace his enthusiasm for producing. His work for U.S. Girls debuted with the Palmist split and fully blossomed with their collaboration on 2011's critically acclaimed, U.S. Girls on Kraak. 2012 further establishes their partnership as FatCat prepares the release of U.S. Girls latest record, an unabashed foray into pop & glam produced and mixed by Slim Twig.

2012 also sees the release of a wealth of new Slim Twig material. Appropriately for an artist as diversely prolific as Slim, the coming months will see two full-length album releases, as well as a 12”-split on Clan Destine Records with blog-favourite pals, Dirty Beaches, Ela Orleans, and U.S. Girls. 

 A new release on Paper Bag Records will be his first since 2009. Sof' Sike can be seen as a dramatic left (er, make that a right) turn follow-up to Contempt!, his last release on PBR. Replacing analog drum machines and scratched-record samples are the vaguely psychedelic rumblings of live instrumentation: pianos, organs, guitar, bass, drums! Out of the murky and demented inspiration of his previous releases we can now hear the sound of a promising young songwriter. Although as idiosyncratic as ever, these new songs showcase an interest in classic songwriting, a fondness for psych-era Rolling Stones, an affinity with the queer power pop of R. Stevie Moore- in short, an odd friendliness (of sorts). Sof' Sike is a diverse collection of songs, and with its restless approach to genre and uncontained enthusiasm for POP, can be viewed in the lineage of records like The Who's Sell Out, or Spark's A Woofer In Tweeters Clothing.

Not one to be pigeon-holed, look to the later half of the year for the release of A Hound At The Hem, a narrative album collaboration with Slim Twig’s band, consisting of Toronto session heavyweights, Carl Didur, Louis Percival & Tim Westberg, and with Owen Pallett. Taking its cue from Gainsbourg's Histoire De Melody Nelson not only in its daring fusion of orchestral tones with rockist textures, but also in its derivation and manipulation of Nabokov's Lolita chronicle, A Hound At The Hem represents the 'hard psych' flipside to Sof' Sike and that LP's lighter touch. A Hound At The Hem will see a vinyl-only co-release on Pleasence Records and Slim's own label, Calico Corp. (co-run by Meg Remy of U.S. Girls).

With Slim Twig releases on Paper Bag Records, Pleasence, Calico Corp. and Clan Destine Records, the release of U.S. Girls new LP on FatCat, as well as releases by international acts, Eric Copeland & Sic Alps on Twig's own Calico Corp. imprint, 2012 promises to coax Slim out of his reclusiveness.

Morgan Finley is following