Formed in 2022, Sebastian Tomb is a Berlin wall noise project that adds creative touches to its sound such as synth elements, morphed ‘n’ warped dialogue,  and generally unbalancing sound craft. It also uses pictures of women from the past- so an interesting blend of sound and theme. I’ve been very impressed with most of the projects' output- so I decided to track down the person behind the ‘wall’/ project- Joris Martin Sabinius for an email interview.

M[m]  What was your first introduction to extreme forms of sound? And what was your first experience with walled noise?

Joris The Hoover. My mum's Hoover. After that, The Rita.

M[m]  What was the first The Rita album you heard? And were there any other wall noise releases that made an early impression on you?

Joris The first Rita album I heard was Thousands of Dead Gods. It hit me hard. Sound that didn't tell you what to think, just gave you space to see what you wanted.

I liked that about it. Made me think of my own pictures, not someone else's words. The sound was raw, like the sea on a cold morning. It didn't explain; it just was.

Good wall music creates a rite de passage, guiding you through different stages of introspection

I shall pay homage to other works by mentioning them here—a tribute not merely to their ability to evoke within us emotions as profound as they are fleeting.

Macronympha – Melting Softly Into Time is rougher than stone, but beneath the surface, it has a structure that lets you in. You could dig into its parts if you wanted to. It was a strange thing—how something so harsh could also be so open- like walking through a storm and finding shelter in the eye of it.

In the realm of sound, I find myself drawn to the structural explorations of Jan Jelinek. His Loop Finding Jazz Records embodies a unique allure, akin to the gentle rustling of leaves on an autumn day. The music is transparent, yet not detached; it whispers secrets softly before dissipating into silence. Like a breeze that caresses objects only to vanish instantly, this album's essence lies in its ephemeral nature. This release is a reminder that every moment holds within it both presence and absence.

M[m] Seemingly the Sebastian Tomb started in the year 2022- please discuss how this came about? And what is the meaning behind the projects?

Joris During "Wuhan-time" , I worked on static sounds. I asked myself, do these sounds mean something? One night, I played alone. A film noir flickered on the screen. That was it.

M[m]  What do you mean by Wuhan-time?

Joris The Covid-Time.

M[m]   Is Sebastian Tomb your first sonic project?

Joris There was 'Genus Inkasso'. It was a world apart from Sebastian Tomb—a realm where experimentation reigned supreme. Like a moody tapestry, Genus Inkasso wove together disparate threads of sound, crafting pastiches and satires that probed the unexplored corners of genre. A maelstrom of experimentation, it ripped through genres, mocking their pretensions.

M[m] so is Genus Inkasso still active? And is there any examples of the project online?

Joris It’s still active, but  I put my main focus on Sebastian Tomb

https://grindcorekaraoke.bandcamp.com/album/the-despised-pastora?from=label_sub

https://immigrantbreastnest.bandcamp.com/album/under-seals-broken-by-the-lean-solicitor

https://teachingmachine.bandcamp.com/album/gilz

https://tonestrukt.bandcamp.com/album/odd-little-gestures

M[m]  What is the meaning behind Sebastian Tomb name?

Joris I wanted to choose a name that would stick: something catchy, something chic. Now I have it, the rest is up to you -you bring your own noise to it.

M[m] Compared to a lot of walled noise projects, Sebastian Tomb isn’t that prolific- releasing only around ten releases, including splits, since starting. Is this down to giving a lot of thought/ time into each release, or that you only record when you get inspired?

Joris There’s thought in my work. Although I’m careful with it. Soundwise, well, static is static. It can bore anyone, even me. A wall should catch you.

The emergence of wall music is intricately tied to the era of streaming on the internet—a vibrant, pulsating age where soundscapes intertwine with digital connectivity. In my perspective, wall music's closest kin is the binge-worthy series that captivates our screens (think Netflix and its ilk), the soothing allure of ASMR videos, and the seemingly infinite flow of podcasts that wrap around us like a warm blanket.

It's fascinating to note that many creators within the Wall community have shifted their perception of releases; they no longer view them as traditional albums but rather as mere content—an endless stream of auditory experiences. Yet, I firmly maintain my right to infuse every ounce of my creative output with meaning and significance, ensuring that each expression resonates deeply in this vast sea of digital noise.

M[m] Please could you talk about your present set-up, how has this changed/ developed over the years?, and if there a piece of kit you still have from the start?

Joris Genres like post-industrial, power electronics, and various forms of ambient music find themselves ensnared in the web of overly sophisticated digital audio workstations (DAWs). The visceral, unrefined essence that once characterized these soundscapes has been supplanted by a sterile precision that drains the very lifeblood from these genres. This phenomenon is often accompanied by a burgeoning obsession with boutique pedals—distortion devices crafted in a dizzying array of flavours, both conceivable and absurd. To me, noise music embodies a rebellion against conventional usage; it thrives on the subversion of equipment beyond its intended purpose. In this act of defiance, one unveils an entirely new dimension—a facet of sound previously obscured by the constraints of traditional musicality. It is within this chaotic exploration that the true spirit of noise emerges, challenging the boundaries of what music can be.

Noise, in its essence, is a pursuit of inquiry—a relentless quest for understanding that transcends mere sound. In this contemporary landscape, such research finds its most fertile ground in the realm of programming, where the digital and the abstract converge.

To make a long story short: It’s just code. No DAWs, just the basics. Pedalboards are not my thing.

M[m] Most of your releases feature pictures of women from the past, please talk a little bit about why you use these?. And what do you see as the key themes in your work?

Joris Themes of classic cinema echo in my mind, inspiring ST. Sharp tailoring, bold makeup, and unclear motivations influence my concepts.

The key themes emerge like spectres in the night: the relentless human yearning for connection, yet tragically missing the mark; a simmering violence lurking beneath the surface, waiting for its moment to erupt. In this landscape of fractured relationships, illusions become our fragile solace—a bittersweet refuge from the harsh truths that lie beyond.

And let us not overlook the glorification of the silver screen sirens, those enigmatic figures who embody both allure and deception. It is all artifice, of course—a veneer that masks the desolation beneath. In these wastelands of failed intimacy, where genuine connection crumbles into dust, it is the lie that remains our only companion, a haunting reminder of what once was and what can never be.

M[m] You’ve also used the stick figure image from the 1960’s UK crime thriller TV show The Saint- why does this resonate with you?

Joris The stick figure of „the Saint“ is simple and powerful - funny show, too.

M[m] What do you see as some of your favourite releases from the project thus far? And please explain the reasoning for each?

Joris  Summer Of Our Discontent - The sound captures a quiet observer. It is subtle. It shows the art of watching. Truths emerge in silence. The air hums with whispers. Only those who listen closely can hear.

Split with Sado – Yule - Berlin at Christmas is empty. No decorations, no warmth. Warm images flicker on screens. My wall reflects this emptiness—a cold campfire, smouldering without flame.

Indifferent To Your Plights - ST explores the inner worlds of female fatales. It reveals truths that are familiar yet strange. There is a satisfaction in this discovery, unsettling but real.

M[m] You did four or so splits with Poland’s Sado Rituals- please talk a little bit about how you got connected to this project, and how/ why you started doing splits?

Joris Sado Rituals got in touch with me shortly after “Whatever Exists Preys” was released. We talked back and forth and finally agreed on a theme - vacations, of all things. Christmas and the like, those peculiar festivals where gaiety and obligation collide. The cover design, mercifully, was left entirely to my discretion.

M[m] Aside from walled noise/ noise in general, what do you listen to?

Joris I'm all over the place, music-wise. But I always end up lost in stuff on the edge. And so I drift, a musical nomad—the places where sound becomes a question rather than an answer. It’s in this state of being lost that I often find myself found again, discovering new dimensions of my own existence through the very act of listening.

M[m]  You're from Berlin- what’s the noise/experimental scene like in the city, and are you aware of any other walled acts from the city?

Joris  You've got your live scene, all noise and bodies and chaos. Then you've got this other world, this shadow realm of bedroom producers and digital hermits. The irony, of course, is that these worlds, linked by sound, remain separate as body and soul in death. They coexist in isolation, each a phantom.

Yet, within this cacophony lies a stark division: music that thrives in the electric pulse of live performance and music that languishes in the static ether, unfit for the vibrancy of human engagement.

Picture this: a recent pilgrimage to a concert featuring Polish bands. The power faltered, plunging us into darkness for a quarter-hour, yet this disruption was but a minor ripple in the river of sound.

The bands did not have complicated setups. They played their instruments simply, turning silence into sound.

It is not just about enduring static for too long. It is about creating an experience where sound moves through you. To do this, you need a good system, a skilled sound engineer, and a venue that does not hurt your ears. But outside of the big names, those conditions are hard to find.

It’s as if the very essence of engagement has been siphoned away, leaving only the hollow echo of what could have been.

M[m]  Any thoughts about playing live with the project?

Joris I think there are Wall concerts that are worth attending (e.g. Vomir).

Yet, as live music, noise often teeters on the edge of absurdity; it requires a sound system capable of transcending mere feedback if it is to convey anything meaningful. In micro-genres like wall music, this challenge is compounded by doubts about whether such technical sophistication will ever be feasible. Beyond this technical hurdle lies another: the need for live musicians to engage with their audience in a way that goes beyond mere performance. Sebastian Tomb's ability to bridge this gap remains uncertain. If we strip away these elements—interaction and sonic clarity—we are left with nothing more than an individual behind machinery—a spectacle devoid of genuine human connection or emotional resonance. And that would be just boring.

M[m]  when can be expect a new release from Sebastian Tomb, and any hints on what it might be?

Joris I think around Easter. Definitely before the start of summer.

M[m]  What has impacted you in the last six months- be it sound, music, film or art?

Joris

Sound:

Tommy Keene's first album. A curious confection, indeed—a dalliance between the vigor of Power Pop and the Hair Spray sighs of 80's Wave.

Thorn Bug – Thorn Bug. Somehow, this project has injected a pulse into this (un)dead genre HarshNoise, which doesn't really want to shed the infantility of a pinball machine. There's something there. I'll listen if they put out more.

Bog People – Bog People. Hardcore punk—a creature predictable in decay as buildings it infests. Draped with elegance, it swaddles in psychobilly. Adornment a thin veneer, nature flammable as melodrama lies beneath.

Movie:

Heretic - a jewel finely cut and brilliantly displayed.

The Bikeriders - quietly reveals how motorcycle clubs change from safe havens for the bored to feared gangs.

Books:

I'm finally getting around to reading Dostoyevsky's The Idiot. A novel perpetually poised for perusal, much like a promising acquaintance one intends to cultivate, yet somehow life's parade of more immediate, if less substantial, characters continually interposes.

Thanks to Joris for his time and effort with the interview. Sebastian Tomb’s bandcamp can be found here