OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD. : Journey Underground

About OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD. : Journey Underground

OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD.The infinite Skrillifiles: Next Generation— Quantum Force [Series V.V] Following: The Infinite Skrillifiles - SERIES V) {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. ™ The Original.™

Publisher

Skrillex

Category

music

Language

en

Explicit

Yes

First episode

13 Sept 2021

Latest episode

29 Oct 2026

Latest episodes

1,192 episodes in the feed.

1. 

   29 Oct 2026

   James Bond. (East Coast Mix) [Teaser]

   It'll be awhile till the music video; so here's this and a link for the track: exclusively on TIDAL. https://tidal.com/track/574136554[Unreleased/ Untitled Mixtape - ‘Late Night Drive’]Written, Produced By C’cxell Soleïl + neocloud& Performed by Blū Tha Gürū [The Festival Project ™ ] The Complex Collective © {Enter The Multivere}04. James Bond This motherfucker isn’t even funny! His dirty little fuckin’ brother might be even dumber; I wonderWhat kind of fuckin’ love spell I was underWhen i wrote this album Fuck it: That’s just how i won a Tony! (Tony!) The irony of Italy and throw in a third: Tony; You owe me, Like i’m the only fuckin lonely stoner full of‘Gnochi?’--–Gn–Gno–??W–wait–Gnocchi?Nevermind,Fuck it.What you think i’m like a genie in a bottle, bro?Don’t even got a body, bro! And I am not a fuckin blondie But uh – That sounds good, yo… With chocolate chips– This must be the battle, cause i’m sinking ships Loose Lips, Dude this fuckin’ guy has got a big mouth, Like a blow fish I went low, sis, So you went hi-hoe, Snow White This life is hopeless I–Don’t know Pincohio: I know Jipetto’s broke and off his fuckin’ rocker, Down on his luck, but all I got is Frankenstein's Monster [I’M ALIVE.]–but barely, cause I drove my G6 off of a bridge and– [DIED.]In California Two blocks from the Brooklyn bridge in [Fi-Di]But I never walk over it;Cause I think of jumping off so much [I hate my life.]Call me Al Bundy Cause I hate my wife, Said every man! It’s badder than banter I got a cat in a hamper I’m microwaving a hamster Live on a fucking broadcast– I just turned the devil off Then I talk to God last, I got a medal of honor Cause once-upon i felt a hard blast Growing an apple tree so i can have a hard glass of hard cider Doing squats so I can have a hard ass She’s mad now, But i got a cash cow , I went to a lash-brow bar tho, and afterward, It’s all gone (gone, gone!)Life is even harder when you’re not a blonde But suddenly my life is Lights, Camera, Action! Now i’m James BondDunadunadunaduna What up I’m on Wall and Broad Street Pulling up on Whole Foods market Got a silver Glock in my pocket Trench coat, I’m a Lost Cause And I got a lot of BallsYou are mad that you are not meWhat up; I’m on Wall and Broad Street I’m a lost cause And I got a lot of BallsYou are mad that you are not meDunadunadunadunadunaBatman! James Bond DunadunadunadunadunaMy name is Dunadunadunadunaduna Batman! Nah!DunadunadunadunadunaJames Bond My name is James Bond My—my name is James BondJames Bond My—my—my Name is James Bond.{Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S

2. 

   28 Oct 2026

   Parallel Park. [The Whip] - LA Drill | (Blū Tha Gürū)

   {Enter The Multiverse} Parallel Park [The Whip] Performed by Blū Tha Gürū Prod./Composed by C’cxell Soleïl + neocloud.Written By: C’cxell SoleïlUK Drill Hybrid NY Drill(Peep my attempt at a British accent. Lolz.) I wrote this song in LA pre-pandemic (2019-2020) Inspired by the hypnotic sound of my blinker, I had to parallel park so often in LA every time I did it I would rap using my blinker as a beat. Cool to finally breathe actual life into it. S/O To the west coast, I guess if there was a such thing as LA Drill, this is it.Working on accents, impressions and other funny stuff, the music is just a passion…Idk. Anyway.The full and complete Old School Hip Hop Mixtape Coming Soon, trying to figure out how to shoot the music video for the last single titled James Bond on a ltd. budget cause art costs out the nose these days.Link to the full mixtape soon, will be free to DL. Enjoy this lil Drill bop in the meantime, though.Love,-Blu. A Little History On The Subject:UK drill emerged primarily out of Brixton, South London around the early 2010s, spearheaded by crews like 67 who imported the stark, percussive aggression of Chicago drill and cross-pollinated it with indigenous UK soundsystem culture.That lineage directly intersects with dubstep's birth in neighboring Croydon, inheriting its low-end architecture: both subgenres share the foundational DNA of South London pirate radio, Jamaican dub pressure, syncopated half-time rhythms, and an obsession with cavernous, sub-bass weight.UK producers transmuted that sonic heritage into drill’s signature sliding 808 glides and frantic, syncopated hi-hat patterns—a distinct sonic alchemy discovered online by Brooklyn artists like Pop Smoke and Fivio Foreign, who sourced beats directly from British producers like 808Melo and AXL Beats to ignite the transatlantic phenomenon of New York drill.The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™ ] ‘Parallel Park [The Whip]’ - Blū Tha GürūUntitled/ Unreleased EP’ Unstoppable.CoLYRICS: I parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI pull up, I rip and I dipI parallel park the ghostYou see me i'm doing the mostDamn if I stamp itThis is not the post office!I'm ballin!They're callin’ my phone;Step into the party--I'm coming alone;Pull off with the homie,I bought him a blonde;She show him her OnlyFansI get a percent backIf she give him some dome!On The Low!I cannot park in the hoodmy rims are too chrome,And my exhaustLoudlike I am a proudBoyDon't talk to me now,BoyI found a good spotAnd i'm tryna parallel parkI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipIParallel park the WhipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipIParallel park the WhipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipCalifornia kissesHe fell in love he's calling me the Mrs.But miss me with that shit!I am a savage:Made manRockefeller, MalkovichSpace X, BillionaireNatural face,Fake hairNatural assWaist SnatchedButter. lipsButterscotch interior;See your beater clearer in my rearviewThan you see you in your mirror(You wish you could be here!)CauseI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipIParallel park the WhipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipIParallel park the WhipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whipI parallel park the whip

3. 

   28 Oct 2026

   Lost Cause: An Impromptu Talk With God. (Preview)

   Excerpt - The Chronicles of WTFINT. MODERN ESTATE - LIVING ROOM - DAYA cavernous architectural expanse of cast concrete and austere luxury.CHARACTER NOTE: C.C. (played by Meryl Streep) is an ageless deity and primordial mystic disguised in mortal refinement. Across parallel timelines and cosmic shifts she assumes myriad forms, but in this realm she embodies Old Hollywood royalty—silver-screen elegance, supreme poise, and the chilling authority of an ancient power disguised in tailored silk.C.C. sits ensconced behind a sprawling low marble table. She remains entirely absorbed in her manuscripts, pen poised, an imperious sovereign whose authority requires neither volume nor effort.Her ASSISTANT (20s, hyper-attentive, subtly overwhelmed) hovers near the entry.C.C. (without looking up) Go into my glass case.ASSISTANT Which one?C.C. In the den.ASSISTANT The trophy room?C.C. In the den.INT. DEN / TROPHY GALLERY - CONTINUOUSDIRECTOR’S NOTE: The camera tracks slowly behind the Assistant into an intimidating, high-ceilinged rotunda lined with a curved panoramic window overlooking the precipitous canyon drops outside.Opposite the glass horizon stands an immense, built-in vitrine: tier upon tier of polished bronze, silver, crystalline monoliths, engraved medallions, and soaring statuary celebrating an exhaustive lifetime of prestige.The Assistant lingers framed in the threshold, utterly paralyzed by the overwhelming labyrinth of accolades.She blinks, exhales, and pivots back toward the living room.INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUSC.C. remains motionless over her documents, pen scratching steadily against parchment.ASSISTANT What did you need?C.C. Oh. Go into my glass case.ASSISTANT Okay?C.C. And get my trophy.The Assistant squints, bewildered by the sheer logistical impossibility.ASSISTANT Which one?C.C. The pretty one.A tense pause. The silence is broken only by the rhythmic scrawl of C.C.'s fountain pen.ASSISTANT Which one?C.C. You’ll know it when you see it.The Assistant swallows hard, nods submissively, and turns back.INT. DEN / TROPHY GALLERY - CONTINUOUSCLOSE UP - SHELVESThe Assistant paces slowly down the length of the illuminated glass cases. Gleaming brass wings, faceted quartz prisms, heavy gold wreaths. All of them possess an ornate, detached elegance.She arrives at the farthest alcove.ANGLE ON A LOWER SHELFTucked between two towering obelisks sits a solid bronze figurine: a sculpted, unclothed MAN. He carries a distinct boyishness—youthful features, an open, unassuming expression, and a magnetic grace.There is no engraved placard. No commemorative laurel.The Assistant slides the glass panel aside. The mechanism glides with a muffled hum.She lifts the figurine. It has noticeable density. She turns it over in her hands, searching for markings. Blank.She glances up at the sweeping glass window overlooking the sunlit abyss of the canyons, then down at the statue again.INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUSThe Assistant appears in the archway, holding the bronze figurine gingerly with both hands.C.C. lifts her eyes from her papers for the first time. A faint, knowing flicker in her gaze.C.C. Oh good, you’ve got it.The Assistant hesitates, disarmed by the sudden validation. She steps briskly to the low marble table and bends to set the statuette down.C.C. (CONT'D) (firm) No, not there.The Assistant snaps upright as if struck by a current.C.C. studies the space for a fraction of a second, then gestures dismissively toward the kitchen.C.C. (CONT'D) There. On the island.ASSISTANT Mmhmm.The Assistant complies, setting the bronze figure squarely on the pristine quartz island counter.C.C. Could you get me a water? And whatever you want.ASSISTANT Sure.INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUSThe Assistant pulls open the stainless steel refrigerator door. The heavy door obscures the hallway alcove directly behind it.She retrieves a chilled glass bottle of sparkling water and a mineral water carafe from the interior shelf.REVEAL SHOTShe swings the refrigerator door shut.Standing directly where the open door had masked the view is a completely NAKED MAN (early 20s, olive Irish complexion dusted with light freckles, soft pink lips, and dark brown eyes brimming with a wide-eyed, boyish innocence—evoking a young, fresh-faced Jimmy Fallon).The Assistant drops both bottles. They strike the hardwood floor with a deafening rattle; one rolls wildly under the lower cabinets.ASSISTANT Oh!Flushed crimson, the Assistant drops instinctively to her knees, averting her eyes while scrambling to trap the spinning bottle.The naked man remains motionless, standing on the polished floorboards like a recently unpacked museum relic, his face completely serene and unblemished.C.C. (O.S.) (calm, flat, from the other room) There’s a towel.Scrambling on all fours, shielding her peripheral vision with an upturned forearm, the Assistant blindly reaches for a linen dishcloth hanging off the oven handle.Without looking directly at him, she extends the small towel into the air.A youthful hand gently receives it from her grasp.The Assistant retrieves the lost bottle from beneath the toe-kick, scrambles upright, and avoids looking anywhere below his collarbone.The man has neatly knotted the compact kitchen towel around his hips. It barely covers him.His dark brown eyes rest on her with unclouded, gentle innocence.MAN Hello.The Assistant winces, turning an accusatory, wide-eyed stare toward the living room archway.C.C. (O.S.) Bring him here.The man extends an open palm toward the Assistant, maintaining a hold on the towel with the other.She takes his hand. His skin is warm, supple, completely real.INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUSThe Assistant escorts the Man out of the kitchen, guiding him to the opposite perimeter of the marble coffee table. She releases his fingers instantly.C.C. looks up, conducting a cool, forensic inventory of his silhouette, his freckled features, and his calm disposition. After an agonizing second, she offers a singular, almost imperceptible nod of assent.C.C. Good. Now take him to his room.ASSISTANT His—C.C. snaps her head up. Her gaze turns glacial, chillingly final.The Assistant’s voice catches in her throat.ASSISTANT (CONT'D) Okay.The Man extends his hand again, smiling faintly with docile compliance.INT. NORTH RESIDENTIAL CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUSSTEADICAM - FOLLOWINGA long, minimalist hallway illuminated by recessed baseboard LEDs.The Assistant walks with measured speed, holding the Man’s hand. He trails quietly alongside her, his youthful, freckled face placid and agreeable.They pass three identical walnut doors.The Assistant slows to a halt, realizing she has no frame of reference. She releases his hand, hoping his instincts might guide him.The Man simply stops dead in his tracks. He stands in the center of the runner rug, draped in a dishcloth, hands resting politely at his sides.The Assistant studies the blank walls, exhales through her teeth, and grasps his wrist once more. She pulls him past three more doorways, making a sharp, arbitrary pivot toward a door on the left.She turns the brass handle and pushes it open.INT. GUEST BEDROOM - CONTINUOUSA grand, museum-like suite: a massive circular burgundy carpet dominates the floorboards, matching heavy velvet draperies frame an expansive window overlooking an internal stone courtyard, and an antique rosewood bureau sits quietly in the corner.The Man steps into the center of the rug, motionless.The Assistant takes one deliberate step backward toward the corridor.His dark brown eyes watch her with gentle, boyish detachment.She takes a second step back.The Man pivots gracefully and sits on the edge of the mattress.The Assistant takes a third step backward, crossing the threshold into the hall frame.They exchange a silent, prolonged look through the doorway.The Man reaches out, grasps the inner edge of the heavy door, and pulls it smoothly shut until the latch clicks into place.Through the solid wood, a muffled, soft voice carries out:MAN (O.V.) Bye.INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUSLOW ANGLE - ON THE COFFEE TABLEThe Assistant marches back into the room, coming to an abrupt halt across from C.C.'s table, radiating unspoken demands for an explanation.C.C. completes a handwritten notation, caps her pen, and raises her chin.C.C. You can go, now.The Assistant maintains her posture, daring the room to supply a rationale.C.C. looks straight through her with impenetrable indifference. The sheer weight of an ironclad NDA and an unwritten rule of survival hangs heavily between them. The Assistant knows better than to break the silence.C.C. (CONT'D) Your check is in the escrutoire drawer.INSERT - ANTIQUE ESCRUTOIREAgainst the architectural concrete wall stands an antique mahogany escrutoire—a high-end writing bureau flanked by twin miniature tiered open bookshelves on either side of a centered nest of petite drawers.The Assistant crosses quickly to the bureau. She catches a delicate miniature golden drop-ring pull with her fingertips and draws out the center drawer.Inside rests an unmarked hardcover volume, bound shut with a tailored silk ribbon. Tucked securely beneath the knot is her payroll check.ANGLE ON ASSISTANTShe stares down at the spine. The title remains obscured, turned away beneath the fabric. Curiosity pulls at her for half a breath, but a wave of profound, uncanny unease takes hold.She snatches the tied bundle without untying the ribbon, tucks it firmly under her arm, grabs her coat from the rack by the threshold, and practically flees through the heavy front door into the corridor outside.{Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™ ] ‘An Impromptu Talk With God.’The Lost Cause Comedy Vault Vol. IV (Preview)Unstoppable.Co

Who has been a guest on OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD. : Journey Underground

Names identified in recent episode analyses. Showing up to five guests.

• Bob The Builder
• Butters
• Happy Accidents
• c o l o r s
• RUPERT GRINT

Reach and audience

Public platform figures. Ratings count people who left a rating, not total listeners.

Apple Podcasts (US)

5.0 / 5

5 ratings

Spotify

3.7 / 5

3 ratings

Podcast Authority Score: 61 / 100

A composite of feed quality, social presence, YouTube performance and engagement. Read the methodology.

Quality

92

Social presence

0

YouTube

0

Engagement

76

Contact OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD. : Journey Underground

Guest appearances

Books guests

Based on episode analysis; this does not confirm that the show is currently accepting guests.