Fraudlin finished his cigarette in no time. His only breakfast was a cup of instant coffee — all he could afford after a night at a casino. Instead of brushing his teeth, he rinsed his mouth with another bitter sip, then sprayed himself with cologne to mask the smell of sweat and questionable places. The young gambler, fired up on adrenaline, often neglected basic hygiene, but today there was another, far more serious reason: an informant had delivered alarming news. And he had to move fast.
His head felt like a dusty chest that had suddenly been thrown open. Fraudlin rushed out of the house the moment he realised something irreversible was about to happen. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he reached the comms point to send Spacelunch the coordinates through a secure channel. His thin fingers trembled as he dialled. The first call was declined. The second…
“Yeah?”
“Urgent! Cat is with you right now — and he’s in danger!”
“What are you talking about?!”
“Well, technically, he’s with another you. One of the Aerospace Corporation’s goons stole your smart-bracelet. They activated the portal and sent a double after your friend to eliminate him and frame you. I’m sending the location!”
The professor sprang to his feet, turned suddenly pale, and fainted. Strained nerves mixed with alcohol made a toxic blend. Now, only luck could change the course of what was coming.
All content for spclnch is the property of spclnch and is served directly from their servers
with no modification, redirects, or rehosting. The podcast is not affiliated with or endorsed by Podjoint in any way.
Fraudlin finished his cigarette in no time. His only breakfast was a cup of instant coffee — all he could afford after a night at a casino. Instead of brushing his teeth, he rinsed his mouth with another bitter sip, then sprayed himself with cologne to mask the smell of sweat and questionable places. The young gambler, fired up on adrenaline, often neglected basic hygiene, but today there was another, far more serious reason: an informant had delivered alarming news. And he had to move fast.
His head felt like a dusty chest that had suddenly been thrown open. Fraudlin rushed out of the house the moment he realised something irreversible was about to happen. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he reached the comms point to send Spacelunch the coordinates through a secure channel. His thin fingers trembled as he dialled. The first call was declined. The second…
“Yeah?”
“Urgent! Cat is with you right now — and he’s in danger!”
“What are you talking about?!”
“Well, technically, he’s with another you. One of the Aerospace Corporation’s goons stole your smart-bracelet. They activated the portal and sent a double after your friend to eliminate him and frame you. I’m sending the location!”
The professor sprang to his feet, turned suddenly pale, and fainted. Strained nerves mixed with alcohol made a toxic blend. Now, only luck could change the course of what was coming.
Symbiotical Records presents “Far Away” — a five-track release from French producer Dust Yard, offering a measured and introspective take on deep minimalism.
The title track “Far Away” begins the journey with a meditative framework: soft pads, pulsating low-end, and a harmonic drift that feels suspended in time. It evolves at its own pace, drawing the listener into its orbit with quiet certainty and gravitational stillness.
“Higher” follows with a warm, fluid groove. The rhythm is steady and subtly accented, allowing analog textures and micro-elements to breathe in unison. There’s spaciousness in the mix, a natural clarity that lets emotional undertones rise organically.
Ki.Mi. offers a refined reinterpretation of “Higher”, bringing architectural precision to its warm undercurrent. The remix expands the original’s depth, layering morphing tones and nuanced shifts in momentum. It’s an immersive reconstruction — composed, restrained, quietly dynamic.
“Sunrise” brings a change in mood: brighter, more melodic, yet still grounded. The phrasing appears with care, as if tracing the edge of something just beginning. It’s music for transitional hours, not fully awake, not entirely asleep.
Closing the EP is Tm Shuffle’s version of “Sunrise”, leaning into dubby resonance and echoic space. Here, elements blur and dissolve, reframing the original into something more expansive. A final exhale that hovers in the air.
Dust Yard delivers a focused, emotionally weighted record — subtle in structure, deliberate in motion, and rich in atmosphere. These are pieces that open slowly, revealing their presence in silence as much as in sound.
Available now on all platforms for streaming and download.
@dustyard
@symbiotical-records
spclnch
Fraudlin finished his cigarette in no time. His only breakfast was a cup of instant coffee — all he could afford after a night at a casino. Instead of brushing his teeth, he rinsed his mouth with another bitter sip, then sprayed himself with cologne to mask the smell of sweat and questionable places. The young gambler, fired up on adrenaline, often neglected basic hygiene, but today there was another, far more serious reason: an informant had delivered alarming news. And he had to move fast.
His head felt like a dusty chest that had suddenly been thrown open. Fraudlin rushed out of the house the moment he realised something irreversible was about to happen. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he reached the comms point to send Spacelunch the coordinates through a secure channel. His thin fingers trembled as he dialled. The first call was declined. The second…
“Yeah?”
“Urgent! Cat is with you right now — and he’s in danger!”
“What are you talking about?!”
“Well, technically, he’s with another you. One of the Aerospace Corporation’s goons stole your smart-bracelet. They activated the portal and sent a double after your friend to eliminate him and frame you. I’m sending the location!”
The professor sprang to his feet, turned suddenly pale, and fainted. Strained nerves mixed with alcohol made a toxic blend. Now, only luck could change the course of what was coming.