The sound of things that linger.

A formal complaint against modern automotive engineering. 🚗☀️

Who decided that every new SUV needed headlights powered by the raw, unfiltered energy of a dying star?

For centuries, the night belonged to us. Now, you can be enjoying a peaceful midnight stroll through the cemetery, only to be absolutely flash-banged by a 2024 Honda Civic turning the corner. To our photosensitive members (vampires, deep-dweller ghouls, and certain fae): these LED high-beams can cause mild to moderate smoldering.

How to cope:

Polarized sunglasses at night are no longer just an aesthetic choice; they are PPE. Wear them.

Invest in SPF 100 and wear protective clothing.

Before we started making darkwave ethereal music, and way before we were indulging in mythology deep-dives, The Undead Association had a different, fanciful and rather ... pixelated life.

The Undead Association was born in the mid-90s, amid the screech of dial-up internet, and the absolute cultural reset that was reading Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire for the first time.

You might know the feeling. You read about Louis and Lestat wandering through New Orleans, draped in velvet and existential dread, and suddenly your brain chemistry is permanently altered. We looked at that dramatic, tragic (toxic?), deeply codependent immortal lifestyle, shivered, and thought, "Yes. We need to organize these people."

(Thanks to our sister-in-law Anne for introducing us to Louis and Lestat.)

Thus, The Undead Association was born. But not as a band. As a roleplaying guild.

If you are an internet elder of a certain age, please bow your head in respect for the AOL Free Form Gaming Forum (FFGF). The freeform, text-based roleplaying in Red Dragon Inn is where UdA took its first breaths. We were out there typing paragraphs of gothic prose in chat rooms and rolling 2d20 in deathmatches while someone's mom yelled to get off the computer so they could use the landline. It was a chaotic time to explore edgy creativity.

Over the decades, as the internet evolved, so did the Undead Association. UdA packed up its metaphorical coffins and migrated through the digital ether, setting up shop in basically every major MMORPG that would tolerate antiheroes.

And honestly? We never really stopped.

If you happen to wander the roads of Azeroth in World of Warcraft today—specifically on the Wyrmrest Accord server—keep an eye out. The Undead Association guild is still active, still heavily invested in the lore, and still wearing too much transmog black.

Let’s talk origins. The concept of the "vampire" didn't just pop out of nowhere in Victorian England. The fear of nocturnal, life-draining entities goes back to the dawn of written text, rooted deeply in ancient Babylonian and Assyrian mythology before being incorporated into early Jewish folklore (Goldblum, 2021).

The Witch of Endor (1 Samuel 28) suggests that necromancy and speaking to the dead has been a taboo obsession for millennia. Death was never meant to be the end of the conversation.

In Isaiah 34:14, we get a reference to Lilith, depicted as a night demon who dwells in the desolate desert (Goldblum, 2021). Over centuries of Jewish legend, Lilith transitioned into a fiercely independent spirit, often characterized as a beautiful but deadly nocturnal entity or succubus who preyed upon the unprotected (Jacoby, 1987). Death and the night were never meant to be empty. They were populated by entities that explained the unexplainable tragedies of the ancient world.

It is no coincidence that the name Lilith has been reclaimed by modern gothic and witchy culture as a symbol of dark, unapologetic feminine power. When society tells you to fear the dark, sometimes the most empowering thing you can do is become the creature waiting in it. It’s a name that carries immense weight.

Personally, it was a hell of a name for Lillith to grow up with. We're twins. She was born first so she got branded with that name and endured being called the devil's child by an in-law's mother, and was called the Antichrist in high school. But she owns it very well now.

Bram Stoker was Irish, and frankly, it shows. Long before Dracula, pre-Christian Celtic Ireland gave us the unnerving legend of the Abhartach (Game, n.d.).

Folklore from the fifth and sixth centuries describes the Abhartach as a tyrannical dwarf king and dark sorcerer who repeatedly rose from his grave at night to feast on the blood of his subjects (Game, n.d.). The only way to stop him? Slain with a wooden sword, buried upside down, and trapped beneath a massive stone. Vampirism in these early stories was closely linked to visceral, prehistoric fears surrounding blood as the ultimate source of human vitality (Buzea, n.d.). The veil between life and death has always been terrifyingly thin, especially around Samhain.

There is a deeply auditory element to Celtic horror that gets overlooked. The ancient Celts were oral storytellers, meaning these monsters lived in the breath and the voice. When we pluck the strings of a Celtic lap harp or weave sweeping ambient layers into our tracks, we are trying to capture that exact, ancient chill—the feeling of cold wind tickling a burial mound.

The Abhartach (Wikipedia)

Samhain and the Celtic Underworld (Wikipedia)

Game, P. B. (n.d.). The History of Vampire Folklore.

Buzea, T. (n.d.). How a Book Changed a Nation.

Modern Vampires - Short #1

PSA for our immortal members regarding modern banking. 🏦🦇

We at The Undead Association cannot stress this enough: you cannot keep the same checking account open for 150 years. The IRS has algorithms now. They will notice if your savings account has been compounding interest since the Hoover administration.

Gone are the days when you could just bury a chest of gold in the woods. Modern survival requires administrative agility. Every 30 to 40 years, you must execute the "Eccentric Recluse" maneuver: fake your own demise and legally bequeath your entire estate to your completely fabricated, out-of-state "nephew" (who is also you, wearing a different haircut and contact lenses).

Okay, so maybe the "HR for Vampires" thing is just our aesthetic (for legal reasons, we cannot confirm nor deny our own mortality).

Allow us to reintroduce ourselves. We are The Undead Association: a dark, ethereal musical duo comprised of Eve and Lillith. Yes, those are our real names.

Think driving basslines, haunting harmonies, and synths that sound like they were recorded in an abandoned gothic cathedral at 3 AM. If you like music that makes you want to wander through rainy neon-lit streets or a foggy graveyard in a velvet cloak while contemplating the fleeting nature of existence... you're in the right place. Stream our music now. Let us haunt your playlists.

Let’s address the elephant in the crypt. Yes, we know you’re out there. Yes, we know modern society wasn't built for those of us who perceive time in centuries rather than fiscal quarters.

The Undead Association is your premier support network for post-mortal integration. Think of us as HR, but for vampires, ghouls, and the occasionally resurrected. Whether you need help setting up a nocturnal bank account, or simply finding a roommate who won't ask why you keep bags of O-negative in the crisper drawer, we are here.