NINO SABLE

“I embrace the unknown, let us dance together, I embrace the unknown, let us dance forever.“

His name is like a whisper dragged through velvet darkness.

Nino Sable—a shifting figure who has long haunted the edges of the European underground, known as the voice behind Aeon Sable and Unwished, and as one of the creative forces shaping Echoes in Reverse. Yet even those names only trace fragments of a path that refuses to solidify.

Raised between Portugal and Germany, he grew into music through the restless energy of the nineties—bands, stages, and the raw language of grunge, metal, rock and soul. But where others settled, he drifted. The boundaries began to feel too narrow, too repetitive, and what once felt like expression slowly turned into confinement.

So he stepped away, to create on his own terms.

From Melanculia in 1999 to the formation of Aeon Sable in 2010 alongside Din-Tah Aeon, his work has consistently unfolded beyond definition—drawing from esoteric thought, dreams, and the darker layers of the subconscious. What rose from it was never about genre, but about atmosphere, immersion, and transformation.

In 2021, he moved deeper into himself, releasing music under his own name, beginning with THE AHHH—where electronics replaced the familiar core, and something more exposed surfaced. Since then, his output has expanded in fragments—solo works and collaborations.

With a new Melanculia album, Post Mortem, soon to be released, reason enough for us at Peek-A-Boo to step into conversation with Nino Sable—following him into the void, letting the darkest riddles become answers.

Hello Nino, we’re delighted to have you join us in conversation—so let me begin with a sincere thank you on behalf of Peek-A-Boo. I’ve never been one to turn down a good riddle—so, to kick this off, what, to you, is the greatest riddle of them all?

For me, the greatest riddle of all is certainly the eternal cycle of life and death – the hidden law of transformation that rules over everything. Creation and decline, rise and collapse, loss and renewal: I think they are not real opposites, but movements within the same current. In this process of transition, in which one form dissolves so that another can emerge, I find that both mysterious and meaningful.

If we trace your musical roots—back to where it all started for you—we find ourselves in the nineties: Melanculia, now revived, born from a childhood split between Portugal’s sunlit northern coast and Germany’s industrial Ruhr Area. How did music first begin to haunt you, to the point where you felt compelled to create it yourself?

I was always a music lover, a maniac. I became obsessed with music at the age of Nirvana and followed the path of distorted sound straight into the arms of Dimmu Borgir, Moonspell, Dissection, Cradle of Filth... Later, The Doors, PJ Harvey, QOTSA, Pink Floyd, Iggy Pop, and Marc Lanegan started to speak to me.

After moving to Germany and circling music in my head for years, I decided it was time to compose something of my own. On the one hand, music was a language I could understand; on the other, it was the universal language that kept me connected to my friends across the globe.

The late nineties and early 2000s were also a time when you were deeply immersed in the underground scene with various other bands—especially in Germany and Portugal—a period of exploring different genres and musical territories. How do you look back on that time now? Are there any moments from that period that still cling to you, like woodsmoke?

That time wasn’t very productive for me. I was still trying on new shoes, and my attempts to become a singer in several bands were mostly a failure. Looking back, being a singer in bands rather held me back, but that was part of the natural path I had to take as an artist. You also need to know what you DO NOT like.

The real magic started around 2008, when I began working for a gothic magazine, writing reviews, doing interviews, and analyzing promotion. That opened the door to what music could really be - and to the importance of creating a full world around your art.

And that open door eventually led to a chance encounter with Din-Tah Aeon—whom you invited to be part of your vision—an immediate connection that resulted in the rise of Aeon Sable—one of your most defining collaborations. In terms of style, if we were to define Aeon Sable through genres, the music moves between gothic rock, gothic metal and alternative rock—like a backbone shaped in a darker age, existing somewhere within an existential state. Would you say that captures the essence of Aeon Sable, or is there something deeper at its core?

Well… basically yes. But in the beginning, Aeon Sable was darkness, and the essence of that darkness was black coffee and cigarettes. Over time, coffee and cigarettes disappeared from my life, and magic took their place. Magic and mysticism, devilry and witchcraft — and everything became even darker.

Imagine this: a fortress, lost somewhere in time—each room within it representing an Aeon Sable album. You are the keeper of the donjon, welcoming those who enter and guiding them through… which rooms would you choose to reveal first?

Each Aeon Sable album has its own unique charm, bound to its particular time and space, so it’s a difficult choice… But I’d start with the second album, Saturn Return. It has everything a great album needs and offers tremendous range.

After years of shaping your work through bands, you turned inward in 2021, releasing music under your own name—more personal, more unguarded. Yet not long after, new forms emerged in projects like Unwished with Babis Nikou, and Echoes in Reverse with Cleopatra Kaido.

Let’s start with your solo work. You’ve built a growing body of releases, and with THE AHHH in particular, electronic elements move more to the forefront. What drew you toward that electronic direction?

I was always drawn to electronics. Before Aeon Sable, some may remember two earlier projects of mine: Deied and Melanculia. Deied was a kind of avant-garde EBM project. When COVID shut the doors of our venues, there was suddenly no place left for bands in this world, so I had to find other ways to express myself. In quarantine, isolated and unable to meet anyone, I returned to my electronic instruments… alone again. That was the birth of Nino Sable. But it never stayed purely electronic. Over time, traces of Melanculia began to seep into it, and once I noticed that, I knew I had to bring more structure to it.

Turning to Echoes in Reverse and Unwished—how did your paths cross with Babis Nikou and Cleopatra Kaido, and what can you tell us about these projects?

First of all, I learned a lot. I met Babis during one of my holidays in Athens, and we instantly felt that the chemistry was right. We went to his studio, and he hit record. Unwished was one of the most beautiful projects I have ever worked on. Babis is a brilliant musician and producer, and he pushed me to sing in ways I had never done before. Through that process, I discovered new sides of my own voice, and singing became much more than just putting words to sound. I am very happy to have worked with him, and I am deeply thankful that our first and only album, Antichthon, was so well received right from the start.

As for the other project you mentioned, Echoes in Reverse, I am working on it with Cleopatra Kaido, whom I also met during the same holidays in Athens. She is the singer from the Greek band Midnight Poetry. Cleopatra has a lot of drive, and I always wanted to work on electronic music with female vocals. We are looking forward to releasing something later this year.

Another imaginary question—but a quick one—you’ll have to answer without thinking. You’re about to go on tour and urgently need a tour manager. Your only options: the Lament Configuration, summoning a Cenobite… or the Necronomicon, invoking whatever answers from beyond. Which do you choose to find a—rather unconventional—tour manager?

Necronomicon, because demonic characters might be excellent at logistics.

Staying with the idea of being on the road, you’ve performed at a variety of venues over the years. Looking back, which ones have stayed with you the most—and are there still places you’d love to perform that you haven’t yet?

The Wave-Gotik-Treffen at Täubchenthal in Leipzig definitely stands out. The heat was intense - around 400 degrees - the crew was amazing, and the crowd was fantastic. Right after that, though, there are several other places that stayed with me: Porto, Athens, Madrid, Prague, (…).

Every venue has its own charm, and I also loved the after-show parties. Each one is completely different, and it’s fascinating to see how huge our scene really is - how people in every city listen to different sounds and even dance in slightly different ways.

To turn to the present moment now—after all these years, you have resurfaced Melanculia. We didn’t touch on it earlier, but to step back in time for a moment, how did Melanculia first come into being—and how did the name come to you?

Melanculia first came into being back in 2002. It was born out of a very personal need to express feelings that did not really fit anywhere else. At the time, it was just me trying to give shape to the darker, more intimate side of my thoughts and emotions.

As for the name, it came quite naturally to me. It grew out of the idea of melancholia - that beautiful, dark state of mind that has always been very close to my world. I wanted a name that felt emotional, mysterious, and slightly wounded, but still poetic. Melanculia just felt right. It carried the mood I was looking for.

And the result is a brand new Melanculia album, Post Mortem, set for release on May 15—currently promoted as “where shadow and beauty dance in the same mirror.” What will we find when we look into that mirror, and is there anything you’re already willing to reveal about the new album?

What you’ll find in that mirror is not nostalgia, but something far more alive than that. Post Mortem is a very personal album, and for me it feels like a return to a place that never really disappeared - only remained silent for a while. It deals with memory, change, loss, return, and with what remains when time has taken everything else away.

In that sense, the album is both a resurrection and a reckoning. It carries shadows, yes, but also beauty, fragility, and a strange kind of clarity. There is atmosphere, there is intimacy, and there is a very human tension between what is gone and what still lingers. I like the idea that the listener does not just listen to the songs, but steps into a world - one where shadow and beauty really do dance in the same mirror.

What I can already reveal is this: Post Mortem is not an album that tries to explain itself too much. It invites you in. It leaves space for reflection. And if you let it, it may show you something of your own past as much as mine.

And as everything became darker, to close off, it has been a pleasure to share this conversation—steeped in mysticism, devilry and witchcraft—with you, Nino. Thank you very much for taking the time to speak with us. Do you have a final word you’d like to leave with your fans and our readers?

To the times ahead and all that is yet to unfold!

Thank you very much Hayley for having me. And thanks to everyone who has been following this journey and supporting the music - I am deeply grateful.

Our times may be dark, but they are also full of possibilities.

• Melanculia | Bandcamp
• Melanculia | Facebook
• Nino Sable | Bandcamp
• Nino Sable | Facebook
• Aeon Sable | Bandcamp
• Unwished | Bandcamp
• Deied | Bandcamp

Hayley CLX
30/04/2026