ECHØVEIL RECORDS

Archive Dystopia + UgUrGkuliktavikt

Weeping. Ancient dust. Starving regrets. The sealed entrance. The attic of crumbling things. A shape. A paw. An ebony dress. Teeth chattering, in the unreal, in the dark. Midnight piano and a mise en abyme. A Betamax copy of a vintage horror film that's just a little too realistic, a little too eerie. You see yourself on screen. And the thing as well. The thing living in the attic. You tremble. And then the same scene again, only reconfigured by a rusted meat grinder. -Sir Kuliktavikt

izprijenostь

After the Fall? But what if the decline simply never ceased... You tumble eternally through the strata of anti-worlds, through the soft, sodden flooring of dead leaves, the half-frozen marshlands, the luminous white larvae, the blood-clay-bark-earth, beneath everything, beneath Time itself... And your descent carries on into the infra-worlds, ever colder, ever more illogical, ever more deranged... The tentacular roots, fashioning their own loathsome cosmogonies of pure putrescence, alongside those serrated toads with their acerbic, idiotic stares; drooling potent acids that melt the flesh of anti-mammals, their pelts stripped raw, their yellow eyes gleaming, their external organs tinged a sickly reddish hue... But we have not yet descended deep enough. We must venture further, until we reach another frontier: the stairways of liquefied lichen, interlocked and nested within one another, forming a deranged labyrinth of humus... Where all dead flesh eventually entwines itself into an architecture of moss and toxic vapours...

Substak

Substak, that acolyte of ever-blurring, ever-transcending sonic visions, returns to us from beyond the mists with the seventh installment of Veils Falling, the beloved series of compilations / mixtapes / opium-laced sonic voyages adored by young and old alike, and by coatis, too. Another amuse-bouche in the shape of a primordial plunge into limbo; a fogged-up showcase of recent offerings from our beloved label... perhaps awakening a taste for further exploration, luring you ever deeper until you lose yourself along our ethereal, ghost-haunted, nightmare-ridden, spellbinding shores... Enjoy. -Sir Kuliktavikt --- TRACKLIST 1.pinkhydrangea - narwhal echoveil-records.bandcamp.com/album/all-my-feelings-buried-at-the-bottom-of-the-sea 2.THE GOLDEN SPIRAL - Asmodeus echoveil-records.bandcamp.com/album/asmodeus 3.Tansoku - Cartography Of A Broken Field echoveil-records.bandcamp.com/album/surface 4.Ka'Bael - Pale Moon Over Necromantic Realms echoveil-records.bandcamp.com/album/necromantic-kingdoms 5.Errant Static - The Pleasant Past echoveil-records.bandcamp.com/album/genocide 6. Cosmic Crypt - Dead Space I echoveil-records.bandcamp.com/album/dead-space 7.Exsomnus - VI.V echoveil-records.bandcamp.com/album/vi 8.UgUrGkuliktavikt - -1 echoveil-records.bandcamp.com/album/jack-o-lanternnn-kvvukivt

Justin A. Mank & Rumonoise

The kind of split that was MADE for ECHØVEIL. Uncompromising music. Music that goes all the way, pushing beyond the limits of sound, noise, deconstruction, and the avant-garde. Justin A. Mank and his dismantled, reassembled processed doumbek, transformed into a most peculiar and delicious post-free-anti-jazz-noise-hypnotic mantra. Rumonoise and his crushing, voracious walls of sound, splashed with a thousand schizoid colours, where worlds implode against one another, harvesting the sap of eschatological sparks. This is joy. Thank you, gentlemen, for bestowing dreams upon the impossible. -Sir Kuliktavikt

Ka'Bael

The castle awaits. The castle is waiting for you. It has been waiting for millennia. Perched atop this flayed and barren hill, birthed by the volcanic contractions of the underworld, that place they call the Styx. By day, the hill lies naked. The place remains strange. The birds do not sing here. The vegetation, sullen and deranged, appears to be slowly rotting away... as though its very presence upon these black rocks were some unspeakable aberration. Giant black spiders, weaving their milky webs, are the only animal species inhabiting the surrounding wasteland, save for a handful of albino lizards. By day, the place is unsettling, filling the human soul with profound and inexplicable unease. Logic comes to an end in these lands of perdition. Compasses cease to function. Minds that linger here for too long become contaminated, polluted by moribund reveries and death-dealing desires. But this is nothing compared to the nocturnal atmosphere of the hill-excrescence. At night, the castle appears. Suddenly. One moment it isn't there, and the next it drowns your entire field of vision. Its vast, empty vestibule awaits you... A lamenting wind seeps inside, stirring the dust of the anti-centuries. The thousand and one chambers and antechambers, forever recomposing themselves into new and impossible configurations; the library of forbidden volumes; the supernaturalist keep, strewn with rusted instruments of torture and scattered bones; the damp, festering dungeon; the phantom ballroom... All of it awaits you. Yes, you. The new necromancer-lord of this place. You have been summoned to reign over an empty, lifeless world, over subjects who have been rotting since before the first dawn of our world. Welcome to a very ancient realm; a realm of soot, ashes, blackened lichen, and self-annihilation.

Tansoku

This record does not represent a landscape. It listens to it. Frequencies are treated as terrain. Noise as residue. Sound as the result of contact between matter and electricity. What emerges is not music, but a surface being scanned, slowly, imperfectly, without interpretation. - Tansoku

Dystopian Fairy Tales

Our two heroes have a duty to fulfill and must embark on a 50-year-long adventure. A long time ago, a totalitarian king ascended the throne and instaured a long period of oppression with violent swat mushrooms, propaganda and development of witchcraft filed fire weapon. He conquered the entire world and genocided all gnomes. After the fall of his dynasty, the world fell in a great famine. They must find an ancient stone hidden in an underground jungle to re-vitalize the nature before it is too late. -Dystopian Fairy Tales

pinkhydrangea

bove the broad waters appears a rainbow Over which a new sky is dawning -pinkhydrangea --- pinkhydrangea returns to ECHØVEIL. Music that hurts so deliciously, so unbearably, from the sheer radiance of its beauty. And this time, intertwined with that terrible beauty: a raw, suffocating, feral melancholy. Confused emotions, adrift upon this charred sea of saudade-drone-metal-gaze-harsh-noise-ambient. Where dreams go to die, only to become dead lamentations carried away by the howling winds of the Otherworld. Music that quite literally pierces right through you; through your guts, through your grey matter, through the innermost recesses of whatever remains of your soul. Incongruous beams of light hovering above the lifeless sea. Monumental structures erected in the rawest, most unadulterated splendour, for the sole, devastating purpose of watching them crumble into a solemnity that still shatters everything in its wake. An album of violent, unbearable magnificence. -Sir Kuliktavikt