Johannes Nio
Born into the embrace of distortion and dusk, Johannes Nio was never lulled by the gentle hum of lullabies. Instead, the cradle rocked to the pulse of heavier hymns. A voice forged in the shadows of industrial echoes, he stands as a wayward disciple of Black Country’s ghost-lit alleyways and neon-streaked solitude.
He is the hum of a gray industrial town, the flicker of sound between brick and steel, the reverberation of a past that never was but should have been. Melancholy and might intertwine in his compositions, where raw poetry meets the pulse of machines, and tenderness wears the armor of noise.
Johannes Nio does not belong to a single place or time. He is a transmission from a world unseen, a specter of sound drifting through the frequencies of the forgotten.