The Grudge That Refused To Wane While The World Kept Clapping

A new Sebastian Tomb release is always an event in itself. The Berlin artist continues to quietly trace his own path through an obtuse, obsessive discography, wandering the fogbound limbo of a droning, spellbound harsh noise wall whose peculiar alchemy seems to belong to him alone. Silent cinema. Film noir. Enchanting pin-ups glimpsed through cigarette smoke. Celluloid sweating ghosts beneath a dead projector’s light... To rub one’s senses against these sonic surfaces—simultaneously velvety and abrasive—is a pleasure endlessly renewed. ST’s music is a hypnagogic wall that catches you softly, insidiously, entirely. Its static settles upon the grey matter like a dissolving tablet of ecstasy, delirium and loss... until listening becomes less an act than a state of disappearance. This new four-track EP might be one of our comrade’s most narcotic excursions yet. Four enigmas, one after another. Four rooms behind four doors that perhaps were never there. Each one pulling you further into the unreal, into oblivion, into the slow forgetting of everything, including yourself. A journey to the end of the night. The 1920s returning as a ghost in a state of pure sedative noise and low, rumbling drone. -Sir Kuliktavikt