For a young artist releasing only their first single, Sebastian Schub (pronounced Shoob), has long been putting in the hard yards. If finding a fanbase is commonly sought surfing and serving the myriad algorithms online, it’s become almost a rarity to find a musician adopting an old-school approach, trekking from city-to-city, venue-to-venue finding pockets of new fans out on the road. Sebastian has found solace and success by taking great care of both approaches.

Raised by his mother in Hamburg before moving across to London in his mid-teens, Sebastian grew up being encouraged to commit fully to whatever creative endeavour he felt most passionately about.

And commit he did. Sebastian learned to play some favourite songs before spending long days, weeks, and months moving from pitch to pitch busking those songs on both the streets of London and over in Dublin too, deciphering which songs worked where and to who. With those streets as his stage, Sebastian discovered Spiritual Bar, a notorious open-mic institution in Camden Town that had previously offered early spots to the likes of Michael Kiwanuka and Jade Bird. It was a breeding ground for some excellent young songwriters, and one that was curiously off the radar from the rest of the music industry. Artists appreciated doing their growing up and mistake making without judgemental eyes “passing” on what they were yet to be offered. But there was a problem,

“I desperately wanted to play at Spiritual Bar, but the owner only booked artists that played their own songs. I still remember having to finish a new song five minutes before going on for my first gig there because I didn’t have enough material to fill a thirty-minute slot yet.”

“That bar was the perfect schooling for me. There was always a direct and immediate response from the audience. Often brutal. A moment of silence at the beginning quickly followed by chatter and drunken rumble. Extending those moments of silence became somewhat of a life’s mission.” 

“There are many celebrated artists that I could reference as influences, but more than anyone else, those musicians I met in Camden shaped who I am as an artist today. I learned and studied their songs, obsessed over their lyrics and idolised them beyond belief.” 

Sebastian is already an artist with aspirations and intentions for the biggest stages. A multi-instrumentalist with a rich, dark baritone vocal, he makes dramatic and romantic music, both rough-hewn and yet decidedly classic. It runs the gamut of genres, an instant hit for sad boys, sad girls, and for shiny happy people. Music for Saturday nights and music for Sunday mornings.

The first single the wider world hears is Sing Like Madonna.

“I wrote Sing Like Madonna last summer over three months in my basement. At the time I was busy gigging a few times a week.  And I was growing increasingly despondent and disillusioned in the pursuit of the dream. The songs was born from a desire to mean something, to be able to leave a mark. 

There are many more too. He’ll almost certainly circulate clips online to gauge and pique his fans’ interest of course, but these songs have already found their form trying to convince that chatty Camden audience to kindly shut up and pay attention. A pin drops, and you’ll hear it. It’s a keeper.

With a close-knit circle of friends consisting almost solely of actors and creatives, Sebastian has long since learned the importance of paying attention to detail, whether that be up on stage with a guitar, or acting on a film-set. To a camera, to a crowd. Nuance can affect an audience’s perception, but it’s almost squarely about graft, passion, determination, and innate natural ability.

A modern man making timeless music. What’s not to love?