In a music world flooded with imitation, some bands don’t just stand apart—they seem to arrive from somewhere else entirely. That’s what Glass Beams feels like: not a band you discover, but a presence you encounter. A sound not tied to trend or geography, but to something deeper, ritualistic, spiritual, and alive.
Hailing from Melbourne, Australia, Glass Beams is a trio shrouded in mystery, often masked on stage and cloaked in visual aesthetics inspired by Eastern mysticism and spiritual performance. But behind the smoke and silhouettes is a project of sharp vision and deep cultural knowledge.
Their sound, which is minimalist, hypnotic, and magnetic, has a wide and exotic spectrum of influence: Indian classical music, 1970s psychedelia, desert funk, North African percussion, and cosmic jazz all inspire their essence.
Glass Beams doesn't create music, they create a delightful experience
They’ve described their musical DNA as partly inspired by the Bollywood soundtracks the band’s frontman grew up with—You can hear it in the scales, the modes, the microtonal bends that slither between the notes.
Yet at the same time, there’s a clear modern framework: synths swirl like mirages, basslines loop in meditative pulses, and guitar lines flutter like incantations. The result isn’t nostalgia—it’s future folklore.
There’s discipline behind their exoticism. The band’s tight, deliberate repetition evokes the spiritual architecture of krautrock and the mathematical elegance of minimal techno. Tracks like “Mahal” or “Taurus” don’t build toward an obvious climax—they rotate, like a mandala, revealing new shapes with every turn. The experience is less like listening and more like being drawn into orbit.
What sets Glass Beams apart isn’t just their sound—it’s their restraint. In an era where overproduction often crushes meaning, they choose space. They let notes breathe. They understand that silence can be sacred, and that sometimes the most powerful moment in a song is what’s not played.
Glass Beams is not trying to dominate the stage—they’re summoning something bigger than themselves. A sense of timelessness. A memory that doesn’t quite belong to you, but feels familiar. In that space between continents, genres, and generations, they’ve carved a rare identity.
Exotic? Yes. Experimental? Without question. But above all, Glass Beams is essential—a reminder that the future of music doesn’t always sound synthetic. Sometimes, it sounds ancient. And still... entirely new.