Yuri Society

Ambient noise wall (ANW) is a microgenre of noise music that blends the monolithic, unchanging "wall" aesthetics of harsh noise wall with the hushed, enveloping qualities of ambient and drone. Instead of abrasive, high-intensity textures, ANW typically presents a subdued, steady-state roar, hush, or rumble that remains largely static over long durations. The focus is on immersion, timbral depth, and the perception of minute internal movements within an ostensibly unvarying sound mass. Dynamics are minimal, rhythm and melody are absent, and pieces often run for extended lengths, encouraging deep listening and spatial awareness. Typical sources include filtered white/pink/brown noise, room tone, tape hiss, HVAC hums, and distant environmental recordings—shaped with narrow EQ bands, gentle saturation, and compression to form a soft yet impenetrable “wall.” Releases often appear on cassette/CDr with minimalist artwork to reinforce the austere, environmental character of the music.

Black metal is a form of extreme metal defined by fast tempos, tremolo‑picked guitar lines, blast‑beat drumming, shrieked or rasped vocals, and a deliberately raw, icy production aesthetic. Harmonically, it favors minor and modal collections (especially Aeolian and Phrygian), open-string drones, parallel fifths and fourths, tritones, and sparse or suspended chord voicings over blues-derived harmony. Arrangements often employ layered guitars, long-form song structures, and enveloping reverb to create a bleak, otherworldly atmosphere. The genre’s visual and thematic language is equally distinctive: corpse paint, monochrome artwork, and lyrics exploring anti-dogma, nature, pagan myth, cosmic nihilism, and misanthropy. While some scenes have been associated with controversy and extremism, the musical identity centers on sound, atmosphere, and aesthetics rather than any single ideology.

Black noise is an extreme, experimental offshoot that fuses the atmosphere and aesthetics of black metal with the timbral violence and abstraction of noise and power electronics. It prioritizes texture, density, and dread over melody or conventional song form, often engulfing guitars, vocals, and percussion in walls of feedback, saturation, and low‑fidelity grit. The mood typically leans toward occult, nihilistic, or ritualistic themes, with compositions ranging from claustrophobic, blast‑ridden storms to near‑static, throttled drones that feel physically oppressive. Production is intentionally abrasive and entropic, blurring the boundary between musical performance and hostile sound design.

Chopped and screwed is a hip-hop remix technique and regional style that slows songs down dramatically—often to around 60–70 BPM—and lowers the pitch, creating a syrupy, heavy-lidded feel. DJs then "chop" the audio by cutting, repeating, and stuttering phrases, adding backspins, brakes, and pauses to exaggerate groove and space. Pioneered in Houston, Texas by DJ Screw in the early 1990s, the sound is closely tied to car culture (SLABs) and the codeine-lean aesthetic. While originally rooted in mixtapes of Southern rap, the approach has since been applied to R&B, pop, and even electronic music, becoming a widely imitated post-production sensibility across the internet era.

Cybergrind is an ultra-kinetic fusion of grindcore’s extremity with digital production and club-adjacent sound design. It pairs screamed or growled vocals and whiplash riffing with drum machines, trackers, and DAWs that unleash blast beats far beyond human performance, glitch edits, and brutal, bit-crushed textures. Stylistically, it draws from breakcore, digital hardcore, industrial, gabber, and speedcore, translating grind’s micro-song intensity into a hyper-digital aesthetic. Song lengths are often short, arrangements swing between chaotic bursts and razor-cut grooves, and synths/organs/8‑bit timbres frequently replace or double traditional guitars. Lyrically and visually, cybergrind leans into dystopia, technophobia/techno‑fetish, internet culture, and cyberpunk imagery.

Dark ambient is a subgenre of ambient music that emphasizes ominous, brooding atmospheres, sub-bass rumbles, and textural noise over melody and rhythm. It often evokes feelings of isolation, cosmic dread, sanctified ritual, or post-industrial decay, prioritizing mood and immersion above traditional song structure. Typical sound design includes layered drones, heavily processed field recordings, metallic resonances, dissonant tone clusters, and cavernous reverbs. The music tends to evolve slowly over long durations, with subtle timbral shifts and spectral motion substituting for harmonic progression or beat-driven momentum.

Data sonification is a practice and genre in which numerical or categorical datasets are mapped to sound so that patterns in the data are perceived as musical structure. It differs from simple parameter automation by letting the data itself determine pitch, rhythm, dynamics, timbre, and spatial behavior through clearly defined mappings. Works range from direct audification of scientific signals (e.g., seismic or astronomical measurements) to carefully designed parameter mappings and model-based approaches that translate complex, multivariate datasets into layered sonic textures. Because it sits at the intersection of art, science, and design, data sonification is used both for aesthetic expression and for communicating or revealing structure in data that might be hard to see visually.

Drone is a minimalist music genre defined by sustained tones, long durations, and extremely gradual change. Harmony is often static or centered on a single fundamental with subtle overtone shifts, while rhythm tends toward stasis or very slow pulses. Sound sources range from acoustic instruments (e.g., strings, organ, bagpipes, shruti box, tambura) to electronics (sine waves, oscillators, feedback, tape loops, and later digital synthesis and processing). Many composers favor just intonation or other alternative tuning systems to emphasize beating patterns, psychoacoustic effects, and the internal life of sound. Although drone as a sonic principle is ancient and global, the modern experimental genre cohered in the 1960s through the New York minimalists and related avant‑garde circles, then spread into ambient, experimental, and heavy music scenes. The focus is less on melody and more on timbre, resonance, and the phenomenology of listening.

Dungeon synth is a dark, fantasy-focused branch of ambient music that grew out of the early 1990s black metal underground. It typically uses inexpensive or vintage-sounding synthesizers to evoke medieval, folkloric, and high-fantasy worlds—dungeons, castles, forests, and forgotten realms—through simple modal melodies, drones, and processional harmonies. The style is intentionally lo‑fi and atmospheric: orchestral pads, choirs, pipe organs, harps, flutes, and bell tones are layered with tape-like hiss, room reverb, and steady pedal notes. Percussion is sparse or absent; when used, it tends toward martial snare patterns or timpani rolls rather than driving drum kits. Albums often function as worldbuilding artifacts with narrative track sequences, thematic leitmotifs, and evocative artwork.

Experimental music is an umbrella term for practices that prioritize exploration, process, and discovery over adherence to established genre norms. It embraces new sound sources, nonstandard tuning systems, indeterminacy and chance operations, graphic and open-form scores, extended techniques, and technology-led sound design (tape, electronics, computers, and live processing). Rather than a single style, it is a methodology and ethos: testing hypotheses about sound, structure, and performance, often blurring boundaries between composition, improvisation, sound art, and performance art. Listeners can expect unfamiliar timbres, unusual forms, and an emphasis on how music is made as much as the resulting sound.

Field recording is the practice and genre of capturing sounds in situ—outside the studio—using portable recording equipment. It centers on documenting environments, human activities, wildlife, weather, machinery, rituals, and music as they actually occur, often with minimal intervention. As a listening genre, field recording foregrounds place and presence. Releases may present unprocessed, extended takes (e.g., a shoreline at dawn), or carefully edited sequences that map a soundwalk, a village festival, or a factory floor. The results range from documentary-style fidelity to abstract, immersive soundscapes that emphasize texture, spatiality, and the ecology of sound.

Glitch is an experimental electronic music genre that foregrounds the sounds of technological error—digital clicks, pops, clipping, buffer underruns, CD skipping, software crashes, and bit‑reduction. Rather than hiding artifacts, producers use them as primary musical material, often arranged through extreme micro‑editing and non‑linear sequencing. Texturally, glitch spans austere minimalism to warm, hazy ambience. Rhythms tend to be fragmented and asymmetrical, with sudden cuts, stutters, and silences that create tension and negative space. The palette commonly includes sine‑tone grains, granular clouds, filtered noise, and hyper‑detailed percussive fragments, sometimes sitting over subdued drones or dub‑inflected low end. The style emerged in the late 1990s around labels such as Mille Plateaux, influenced by IDM, minimal techno, and the aesthetics of failure in digital media. It later permeated pop and beat‑driven styles through sound‑design techniques that evoke imperfection and transience.

Harsh noise wall (often abbreviated HNW) is an extreme substyle of noise that focuses on producing a monolithic, static "wall" of sound with virtually no perceivable change over long durations. The texture is typically broadband, high-gain, and unrelentingly loud, emphasizing sheer density and timbral grain over dynamics, rhythm, or melody. Aesthetically, HNW tends toward minimalism and austerity: the piece begins and, for the most part, remains the same until it ends. This reduction of musical events is intentional, directing the listener’s attention to micro-level fluctuations in the sound mass, bodily perception, and the temporal experience of endurance. Releases are commonly issued in long-form formats and often feature stark visual presentation and conceptual themes of anonymity, erasure, or anti-performance.

Industrial is an experimental electronic music tradition that uses abrasive timbres, mechanical rhythms, and transgressive aesthetics. Its sound palette often includes distorted drum machines, tape loops, metallic percussion, feedback, and found-object recordings alongside synthesizers and samplers. Emerging from late-1970s UK underground art and performance scenes, industrial foregrounds themes of dehumanization, technology, surveillance, and power. Releases frequently embrace anti-commercial presentation, stark graphic design, and confrontational performance art, treating the studio as a laboratory for sonic manipulation rather than a vehicle for conventional songcraft. While early industrial emphasized noise, tape processing, and avant-garde collage, later waves fused the style with dancefloor precision (EBM), rock and metal heft, and club-oriented production, giving rise to a broad post-industrial family that remains influential in experimental, electronic, and popular music.

Lowercase is a minimalist strain of experimental ambient music that privileges extremely quiet, often barely-perceptible sound. Instead of melody and rhythm, it focuses on micro-sonic details—hiss, hums, room tone, paper rustle, HVAC drones, cable buzz, and distant environmental traces—presented at very low volumes. Coined by artist Steve Roden in the early 2000s, the term denotes both a sonic aesthetic and a listening practice: attentive, headphone-based, and patient. Releases frequently use long durations, wide dynamic range, and near-silence to pull listeners toward the threshold of audibility. Labels such as 12k, LINE, and Trente Oiseaux, along with galleries and sound-art contexts, helped situate lowercase at the intersection of ambient, electroacoustic composition, and conceptual sound art.

Musique concrète is an electroacoustic approach to composition that uses recorded real‑world sounds (objets sonores) as primary material rather than traditional instruments or notation. Composers edit, splice, loop, reverse, time‑stretch, filter, and otherwise transform these recordings to create works designed for loudspeakers. Emerging in late‑1940s France, it introduced acousmatic listening—focusing on the sound itself, detached from its source—along with a morphology‑based vocabulary of gesture, texture, and timbre. Historically realized on tape and now on digital audio workstations, musique concrète privileges montage and transformation over conventional harmony and meter, inviting listeners into a rich, tactile world of sonic phenomena.

Nightcore is an internet-born editing style that speeds up and pitch‑raises existing songs—typically by around a third in speed—so the vocals become brighter and more youthful and the groove turns more urgent. Practically, a classic nightcore edit accelerates a pop, Eurodance, or trance source by roughly 20–35% (the canonical meme is ~35%), which also lifts the pitch by about five and a half semitones—similar to playing a 33⅓‑rpm record at 45 rpm. The result is euphoric, hook‑forward, and highly kinetic, and it is often presented with anime or fan‑art visuals that emphasize its internet‑native identity.

Noise is an experimental music genre that uses non-traditional sound sources, distortion, feedback, and extreme dynamics as primary musical materials. Instead of emphasizing melody, harmony, or conventional rhythm, it focuses on texture, density, timbre, and the physical presence of sound. Practitioners sculpt saturated walls of sound, piercing feedback, metallic clatter, contact-mic scrapes, tape hiss, and electronic interference into works that can be confrontational or meditative. Performances often highlight process and immediacy—improvisation, body movement, and site-specific acoustics—while recordings can range from lo-fi cassette overload to meticulously layered studio constructions. Though rooted in early avant-garde ideas, the genre coalesced as a distinct practice in the late 1970s and 1980s, especially through Japan’s ‘Japanoise’ scene, and subsequently influenced numerous styles across industrial, punk-adjacent, and experimental electronic music.

Noisecore is an ultra-chaotic, noise-saturated offshoot of hardcore punk and grindcore that pushes extremity to its limit. It favors split-second song structures, explosive blast beats, feedback squall, and improvisation over melody, harmony, or traditional arrangement. Releases often contain dozens or even hundreds of micro-tracks, recorded lo‑fi on cassette or 4‑track, emphasizing raw immediacy, distortion, and overload. Vocals are typically screamed, barked, or reduced to texture; guitars and bass are mangled through high-gain pedals and feedback loops to form a nearly continuous wall of noise.

Plunderphonics is a sample-based music practice in which new compositions are made entirely or predominantly from pre‑existing recordings. Rather than using short, unrecognizable snippets as texture, plunderphonic works foreground recognizable materials—pop hits, classical excerpts, commercials, voice-overs—and transform them through juxtaposition, layering, pitch-shifting, time-stretching, and collage. Coined by Canadian composer John Oswald in the mid‑1980s, the term names both a technique and a critical stance that questions authorship, originality, and ownership in the age of reproducible media. Plunderphonics often functions as cultural commentary or satire, drawing attention to how meaning changes when familiar sounds are recontextualized. Stylistically, it ranges from dense cut‑up cacophony to groove-oriented rearrangements that remain danceable and accessible.

Power electronics is an extreme offshoot of industrial and noise music characterized by high-gain feedback, piercing oscillators, abrasive drones, and confrontational, often shouted or screamed vocal performances. The music typically rejects conventional rhythm, melody, and harmony, favoring raw, atonal textures sculpted with distortion, EQ, and dynamics. Lyrical content is deliberately transgressive—fixated on power, control, taboo, and violence—presented either as provocation, critique, or uncomfortable reportage. Performances are frequently intense and minimalist: a few analog synths or tone generators, a mixer pushed into clipping, a microphone, and a handful of pedals can fill the spectrum with searing noise. The aesthetic is stark, ascetic, and confrontational rather than dance-oriented, aligning it more with performance art than club culture.

Sound collage is a practice and genre that assembles disparate recorded sounds—speech, field recordings, musical fragments, noise, and media detritus—into a new, cohesive work. It treats recorded sound as raw material to be cut, layered, looped, juxtaposed, and transformed, often privileging texture, timbre, and context over conventional melody and harmony. Emerging from mid‑century tape and electroacoustic experiments, sound collage spans avant‑garde, popular, and club contexts, ranging from radical tape splices to sample‑dense pop and hip‑hop. Because it recontextualizes existing audio, it can be narrative, political, archival, or purely abstract—oscillating between documentary and dreamlike mosaic.

Space ambient is a substyle of ambient music devoted to evoking cosmic scale, interstellar travel, and the vastness of outer space. It emphasizes expansive soundscapes, slow-evolving drones, and a strong sense of spatial depth created by long reverbs, delays, and careful stereo imaging. The music typically avoids overt rhythm and melody in favor of sustained pads, subtly shifting harmonies, and quiet textural details. Analog and digital synthesizers, modular systems, and granular processing are common tools, often complemented by found sounds, radio/space transmissions, and gentle field recordings. The result is immersive, contemplative listening that suggests weightlessness, distance, and awe.

Speedcore is an extreme offshoot of hardcore techno and gabber characterized by extremely high tempos, typically 240–350 BPM and often far beyond. Its core is a relentlessly driving 4/4 kick, heavily distorted and clipped into a percussive bass-tone that dominates the spectrum. The style emphasizes aggression and intensity over melody or harmony, drawing on industrial sound design, harsh noise textures, and horror-tinged sampling. Although many tracks are dark and abrasive, some scenes (especially in Japan’s j-core community) blend speedcore tempos with bright, anthemic leads and pop-cultural sampling. Speedcore is both a club style and a studio-centric craft: producers sculpt the kick drum as the central instrument, layering saturation, compression, EQ, and pitch envelopes to achieve the trademark pounding continuum.

Tribal ambient is a branch of ambient music that merges spacious, drone-based atmospheres with hand-played, "tribal" percussion, non-Western instrumentation, and environmental field recordings. It emphasizes trance-inducing polyrhythms, ritualistic timbres (frame drums, shakers, clay and skin drums, rattles), and sustained harmonic beds, often evoking a sense of timeless, pre-industrial ritual or nature-centered spirituality. Rather than song-like structures, pieces unfold slowly and organically, favoring texture, space, and gradual transformation over melody or chord changes. The result is immersive, cinematic soundscapes that feel both primordial and otherworldly.

Vaporwave is an internet-born microgenre and visual aesthetic that repurposes late‑20th‑century commercial sound—mu zak, smooth jazz, soft rock, synth‑pop, city pop, and corporate training tapes—into hazy, slowed, and looped collages. Its sound foregrounds pitched‑down samples, heavy reverb, tape hiss, vinyl crackle, and dreamy pads to evoke a mood between satire and sincere nostalgia. Beyond music, vaporwave is inseparable from its graphic language: Greco‑Roman busts, Japanese text, retro operating systems, chrome logos, palm trees, neon gradients, and “mall culture” architecture. The result feels like a haunted shopping mall: part critique of consumer capitalism, part wistful memory of media and retail spaces from the 1980s–2000s. Tempos are typically slow (roughly 60–90 BPM), harmonies tend toward lush seventh and extended chords, and rhythms range from barely perceptible loops to minimal, gated drum programming. Many tracks are short, vignette‑like studies in texture and mood.