#black motion

[motocrunch]

[lyaiozpress]

The Ineffable Transcendence

In the realm where melodies and spirits intertwine, "DBN Flight 398" emerges as a vibrant tapestry woven by the skillful hands of Black Motion and the enchanting voice of Busi Mhlongo. This remix, tenderly crafted by Osaze and Spice Drums, transcends the mere realm of sound; it is a heartfelt tribute to the original, infused with a modern heartbeat that breathes new vitality into its essence.

As the music unfolds, it greets us with a deep, reverberating bassline that pulses through the very essence of our souls. The intricate drum patterns dance like whispers in the night, casting a spellbinding aura that calls upon listeners to surrender to its allure. From the very first note, Black Motion's distinctive artistry shines brightly—a tapestry woven with electronic and acoustic threads that paint a vivid soundscape, alive with hues of emotion.

Osaze and Spice Drums gracefully step onto this sonic canvas with their own unique touch, layering dynamic rhythms that elevate the experience to soaring heights. Their innovative percussion seamlessly weaves into the fabric of the track, creating an electrifying dance that captivates and revitalizes. Each beat resonates like a heartbeat, each melody echoes like a memory—united, they compose an anthem for those who dare to dream.

In this remix, every element is meticulously sculpted; it is not merely music but a voyage through sound—a flight across landscapes both familiar and uncharted. The soul-stirring melodies entwine with rhythmic pulses, beckoning listeners to lose themselves in the present moment. It extends an invitation to sway beneath starlit skies or ponder in tranquil solitude; it speaks to the soul while urging the body to move.

"DBN Flight 398" transcends being just a track; it is an immersive experience—a jubilation of culture and creativity that pays homage to its origins while boldly striding towards the future. With each listen, new layers of depth and subtlety reveal themselves, rendering it a timeless masterpiece destined to resonate through the passing of ages.

To indulge in this otic odyssey, please click the link:

What a time, what a time! We are excited for South Africa and birthing such artworks for the world to experience. The future of house music is indeed in safe hands.

[rhythm-plate20]

#AlbumPick - The healers (the last chapter)

The magnificent duo from Soshanguve; a township north of Pretoria, make a return to the music shelf with a release of their newest album "The healers."

[spicy-apple-pie]

Bruce posts this to his twitter with the caption "So proud of Gotham to be an accepting and inviting place where me and my family are free to be ourselves ❤️❤️❤️"

(HAPPY PRIDE MONTH EVERYBODY!!!)

Commission Info / Kofi

[stellarspecter]

@pscentral event 20: antagonists ↳ THE LORDS IN BLACK in NERDY PRUDES MUST DIE

[lia-serrano]

© Lía Serrano

//

[luckydiorxoxo]

Ayo Edebiri at the Fourth Annual Academy Museum Gala.

[squishsquishy]

>> zookeeper.tryg

[kizaba]

(via https://youtube.com/watch?v=hwS7IYHUfGo&feature=share)

[heartnosekid]

johnderting on ig

[ecstarry]

james and reg both traveling alone and end up with the seat next to each other and they make small talk because james is reading a book that reg loved and its a long travel so eventually reg falls asleep with his mouth open against james’ shoulder and james notices when he’s kinda waking up so he acts like he’s sleeping too hoping the really handsome man won’t move away because he actually really enjoyed having him that close and then james ends up falling asleep against reg and reg takes james’ book and takes the insane liberty to annotate stuff on the sides to ‘enrich’ james’ reading and writes his number on a piece of paper and leaves it as a bookmark

[icantdothistodaybruh]

Day 2, Brighton Hotel

[izzystizzys]

There is a scratch mark on the floor of the Council chambers that Mace has never noticed before. Not a deep one, mind, quite shallow. This matters because it’s making the white-hot pulse of agony stabbing through his eyeballs ebb momentarily. Then, he chances a glance upwards at the fidgeting Knight in front of them, and it returns in full force.

Huh, he’s never seen Oppo Rancisis’ face turn that colour before.

“Hmm”, Master Yoda hums, deep and scratchy. His expression is unreadable even to Mace beyond a baseline gremlinness, and the force with which he grips the edges of his seat is making his bones creak. Master of the Order you should become, they said. Follow the calling of the Force, you should. A fulfilling purpose, it will be. Mace is going to hunt the little goblin for sport when this is all over, and he’s going to laugh the whole time.

“Show us the livestream again, could you, Knight Parvo?” Yoda asks. Mace bursts a capillary, he’s pretty sure, and so does poor Knight Parvo, whose orange Mon Cala skin tips all the way into blood red with stress. “Most unusual, this is.”

“Absolutely not!”, Ki Adi intervenes before Mace has to, thank the Force for little mercies. Plo Koon’s tusks tremble slightly with either suppressed laughter or abject horror, maybe both, and Stass Allie has her head in her hands. “The holo stills should be enough”, Ki Adi proceeds to add, and Mace has to reconsider all feelings of grace he just felt towards his fellow Councillor.

He never wants to watch Yoda zoom in on someone’s abs again. Or Depa raise her eyebrows at the curve of thighs bent over the dripping front of a speeder.

“Speeder Wash For Our Troops”, his former padawan reads out loud from a still of what has to be hundreds of the things gathered in the public senate parking lot. “Fund Our Boys And Get A Wet Seeing-To!” The series of images features dozens of Coruscant Guard troopers in various stages of unkitted, gleaming and shining with soap suds and water. The fact that the whole thing is also massive shatterpoint after massive shatterpoint is, quite frankly, insulting.

“Well hello- oh dear”, Obi-Wan’s blue form crackles to life in his chair, followed by several sounds of choking that are definitely not him. Good, Mace thinks acidly. If he has to deal with this, then so does kriffing Skywalker. “I’m sorry, why am I looking at Commander Thorn using a washrag like a lasso on top of a speeder?”

“Oh, the Guard’s little fundraising project”, Bail Organa says, as he steps into the Council chambers. Normally, Mace likes the man well enough. Now, he just smiles and adds on, “I’ve already donated, in mine and Breha’s name. Remotely, of course.”

“The Guard’s fundraising speeder wash?”, Obi-Wan repeats, edges of his holo form flickering with what Mace suspects is Skywalker very unsubtly trying to edge in. Force, but the man really is horrible at any and all stealth, like kissing his secret wife in an open arena in front of his Master. “And they are fundraising for…?”

“GAR budget allocations have to come from somewhere”, Organa shrugs. “And with the tide of public opinion turning, they’ve been tending towards cuts. The Guard feels them more keenly than any other sector - they’ve been reduced from half to quarter rations, and medical supplies have not made more than a token appearance in the last draft. The Chancellor has cancelled three consecutive meetings on the matter, and thus it was agreed that a more hands-on approach was needed. Any surplus will go into the Army fund.”

“Surely it can’t be that dire”, Oppo protests, a slightly less concerning shade of purple now. Senator Organa shrugs again, jostling the smattering of cracks slowly building around his person in a way that makes Mace wince quietly. “It’s all publicly available data, Masters.”

It really can be that dire, as it turns out. And quarter rations is only scratching the surface of how dire, considering the Guard has apparently never had access to bacta in all their posting, and also includes requisitioning forms available to the Senate for reconditionings and decommissionings, two words Mace has only heard Ponds whispers amidst shuddering in the early days of the war before Shaak Ti went off and just about tore some throats out over it.

“Alright”, he concedes, rubbing at his temples. “Fair enough, we have failed to tackle a massive blind spot in the Guard’s well being. There is no Jedi assigned to Coruscant, and that’s an oversight on our behalf. But how in the everloving kriff did this get past the Chancellor and Commander Fox?!”

Who have both signed, black on white. Bail Organa smiles cryptically. “Well, if you scroll a bit past that one image, up to the industrial speeder in the back - Commander Fox is currently having credits stuffed into his codpiece in the back, I believe.”

“HE’S WHAT IN THE WHAT NOW”, Commander Cody screeches through the speaker of Obi-Wan’s holo image, and Mace has to summon every bit of Jedi-serenity he possesses in his body to keep from dropkicking a cackling Yoda through the chamber windows.