Narrative of a judicious narrator.
The first official release of the label. Listen before exploring the catalogue.
GhostBox Records
Every release with its own process, context and influences — not an album catalogue.
El Sello
Independent record label with its own discography. Ambient, electronic and genres that do not announce themselves easily. Music with chronology and context behind every release, not just files to play.
Acid Savior — Houjou Sxnnyside's musical alter ego and the label's primary recording project — Pamela Glottom, a fictional persona within the GBR universe rather than a real person, and the label itself coexist as entities with distinct voices. The sound changes between projects — the intention that every album have a reason to exist does not.
The first official release of the label. Listen before exploring the catalogue.
Label Artists
I loved a version of you that you never were.
A song built entirely from the gap between what happened and what was felt. Narrativa de un narrador juicioso doesn't accuse and doesn't forgive — it maps, track by track, the distance between two people who never shared the same story. Spoken word and song, clarity and delusion, the moment you realize you were always the only one who knew how this was supposed to end.
Everything that felt good was just the beginning of the damage.
Dopamina is where the saga starts — not with a crisis, but with a feeling. Acid Savior documents the chemical logic of attachment: the warmth, the need, the fear of losing it, the slow erosion of wanting to be wanted. Eleven tracks that map the architecture of dependency before it has a name.
The part where I tried to understand it instead of feel it.
Between Dopamina and what comes next, there's a moment of terrible clarity. Five tracks where Acid Savior stops feeling and starts dissecting — the damage examined from a distance, and the exhaustion of someone who has spent too long thinking about something that should have just been lived differently.
Three tracks. No build-up. Combustion has its own language.
Three tracks. No build-up, no resolution. Piromania is the moment in the saga where Acid Savior stops processing and starts burning — Trobador, Ícaro, and a title that doesn't translate because some things sound better in the language you scream them in. The combustion before the ending.
Present in everything. There in none of it.
After the clarity comes the disconnect. Sonámbulo is four tracks of existing without fully inhabiting the body — ladrón, amnesia, a narrator who has turned antagonist to himself, and a mind that went quiet while the heart kept breaking. Not unconscious. Just not entirely present.
Not enough to kill you. Just enough to keep going.
Nicotina is the longest stretch of the saga — twelve tracks of slow attrition. The kind of pain that doesn't arrive dramatically; it accumulates. Acid Savior documents the repetition of reaching for something that no longer helps, the rituals of someone who has confused surviving with living, and the particular silence of screaming where no one answers.
Everything named. Nothing resolved. That's how it ended.
The saga closes not with catharsis but with interruption. Seven tracks that move from crossed signals to chemical dependency, from intellectual recaps to a forced zero contact — Alcohol is the album that names everything that came before and still doesn't resolve it. The ending Acid Savior didn't choose, but got anyway.
I don't do this. Except I did.
Attraction that arrives without warning and without invitation — a figure so spectacular it created tension where there wasn't supposed to be any. Tentáculo is about being pulled toward something you weren't looking for, and the particular discomfort of not being able to look away.
Top tier. Always was.
A song about ego worn openly — the kind that comes from watching someone fail to recognize what was in front of them. Cosmopolitan is the aftermath of wasted time: not grief, not anger. Just the clean, cold certainty of being right about yourself.
It hurts. Going back anyway.
Lust as a chronic condition. Doctor is about excess that reaches the point of physical consequence — and the complete inability to stop. The appointment gets made. The behavior doesn't change.
You were terrible. Here's the receipt.
A breakup song with the volume at maximum — vinyl scratches, exaggerated noise, and zero restraint. SWEETHEART doesn't mourn a relationship; it indicts one. Every bad thing you did gets named, distorted, and played back louder than it deserved.
I don't want you. I want everything you have.
Envy dressed as love. Be You is about being so fascinated by someone's life — their houses, their fame, their money, their everything — that the feeling gets confused for something else. It isn't. It's wanting to be them, completely and without apology.
The way it was always supposed to sound — now it does.
Soda Buzz came out in 2022 when GhostBox Records was still finding its voice. The ideas were always there — the technique and sound to do them justice, not yet. This remaster doesn't correct the past: it completes it. The same material, the original intent intact, and finally the sound those songs always deserved.
Label Artists
A demon's lullaby for a world that deserves to burn.
Pamela Glottom doesn't perform. She rewrites. Born of Greed — the sin that takes and takes and never fills — she carries music as a weapon and a wound. Lie to Me is the soundtrack to Little Day and the Melancholic Muse, a hymn cycle dressed as an album: ancient voices filtered through dark strings, bard rock for a world built on myth and ruin. Every track is a spell. Every chorus, a consequence.
Label Artists
The first transmission from a world that shouldn't exist.
The Demo Soundtrack is where Psycodead begins — raw, incomplete, and already wrong. These are the songs that introduced a horror built from cosmic dread and broken sound design: dark pop that doesn't want to be pop, ambient that breathes too slow, psychedelic layers that collapse before they resolve. The game didn't exist yet. The music already did.
The sound of a self that doesn't load in a straight line.
Curricuneko's soundtrack doesn't score a story — it scores a mood. Soft electronics and cold ambient textures follow no single path through Houjou Sxnnyside's playable introspection: the music shifts with the absurdity, breathes with the bureaucracy, and drifts when the forms don't make sense. Minimalist, ethereal, and deliberately still.
The sound that accompanies the ecosystem — while it's being built.
Sxnnyside Ecosystem is the ambient soundtrack of the Sxnnyside universe — not a game score or an artist arc, but the sonic texture of the ecosystem itself. Each piece exists to accompany without interrupting: the work, the reading, the process of building something that doesn't have a name yet. In recording.