
Like sleepwalking through a mausoleum built from someone else’s memories, Éric Jovet (I,Eternal) drags the recent split of UgUrGkuliktavikt and [unknown artist] through a fevered dream. The original skeletons are dissolved, their bones poured into new molds. UgUrGkuliktavikt’s offering mutates into a demented, prog-psych lullaby — flutes whispering across a mist that never lifts, a cradle swaying in the void. [unknown artist]'s track is torn apart and reassembled as a funereal-ambient-dungeon-doom leviathan: slow, cavernous, suffocating, all hope extinguished. This is not a reinterpretation; it is an exhumation, a transmutation, a phantom graft — and the ghosts are still singing.