!ALL OF THE SONGS IN THIS COMPILATION ARE FEATURED IN MY OTHER RELEASES!
They said Neon City was alive—its streets pulsing with electric veins, its towers humming like vast organs. Few noticed that the glow had deepened over the years, bleeding crimson between the cracks of concrete. Fewer still dared to whisper that the light itself was watching.
Two years ago, the murders began. At first, the city thought it was just a man: a predator, deranged but ordinary. The papers named him The Slasher. The police gave chase, but none returned with answers. Their radios hissed static, their bodies were never found. Only the faint smear of phosphorescence marked the pavement where they’d fallen. The city fed on their silence.
One winter night, when the murders reached their peak, a voice was heard across the city’s radio bands. The broadcast wasn’t traced to any station, but its message was clear: “I am beneath you. I am between you. You walk my corridors and call it home.” Hours later, Slasher struck again—his victim’s eyes burned out, their mouths filled with glass dust, as though the city itself had swallowed them.
The killings spread like an infection. Witnesses spoke of him, but their stories faltered. Some described a man with a blade, others saw nothing but light bending unnaturally in the dark, forming a figure where no figure should exist. He was not one shape but many. He was not one man but the echo of something older, carried through alleyways and tunnels that ran deeper than the subway.
In Massacre, his presence changed. He no longer felt like a man at all. His laughter vibrated through air vents and broken streetlamps. Some swore they saw his face rippling across billboards, flickering between advertisements. Those who listened too long began to dream of a mother’s voice—shrill, distorted, calling from a void beyond the stars.
Then came the scream. Not from a throat, but from the city itself—metallic, endless, shuddering through subway steel. Those who heard it staggered into the night with bleeding ears, speaking nonsense of a door opening beneath Miami’s streets. A door to where? They could not say.
But in the final act, Mayhem, something is revealed. The first murder was not the beginning. It was the middle of a cycle—one that loops, devours itself, and begins again. Three hours before the first kill, he was already there. He always was. He always will be.
Where does the Slasher go from here? Perhaps nowhere. Perhaps everywhere. His knife is only a symbol—the true cut runs deeper, through time, through memory, through the walls of the city itself. And as long as Neon glows, as long as streets hum with the light of something not made for human eyes, he will return.
Watch your backs. But more importantly—watch the lights.
supported by 31 fans who also own “Neon City Murder Saga [Compilation]”
Very dark undertones with moments of pure synth born elation. Makes you feel like you're cruising through the dystopian techno cityscape of some sort of cyberpunk dystopia, and that's cool! Treebaum
The synthwave titans' two-part opus is now available in one compact release, complete with remixes by Carpenter Brut and Sierra Veins. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 31, 2025
Here kitty, kitty! The synthwave genius returns with a whole new batch of hooky, metal-edged songs that are more fun than a ball of yarn. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 11, 2022
supported by 24 fans who also own “Neon City Murder Saga [Compilation]”
Comme l'espace, Dynatron est autour de nous, il est partout, disséminant des créations ponctuelles dans une multitude d'anthologies : ces singles se retrouvent dans The Legacy Collection, Vol II. La synthwave rétrofuturiste de science-fiction prend d'autres couleurs. S'intéressant aux planètes et à leurs mouvements, elle se fait plus massive, grondante. Dynatron nous écrase sous le poids de matériaux spatiaux non raffinés, concrétisés par une ambiance plutôt heavy metal. C'est beau et percutant. Nocturnal Egg (Jordan)