We recently had the chance to connect with GrimmWubs and have shared our conversation below.
Good morning GrimmWubs, it’s such a great way to kick off the day – I think our readers will love hearing your stories, experiences and about how you think about life and work. Let’s jump right in? What is a normal day like for you right now?
I usually wake up late morning, my nights go deep into the shadows. I start the day by checking in with my team, lining up promotions, content drops, and making sure the Reaper of Bass stays loud in the underground. After that, it’s straight into sound design, twisting dark basslines, warping samples, summoning energy that hits like a graveyard earthquake. Most days, I’m bouncing between the studio and whatever local scene needs shaking. If I’m not creating, I’m networking, building with other artists, and planning the next soul-snatching set.
Late night is when the real magic happens. That’s when the play button. is pressed, the world goes quiet, and I summon the next wave of filth from the abyss.
Sleep is rare. Passion’s louder.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I go by GrimmWubs, also known as the Reaper of Bass. I’m an underground EDM/dubstep artist born from chaos and carved by struggle. I create heavy, cinematic bass music that tells a story, every drop is a piece of my soul, every set is a ritual. My brand represents resilience, transformation, and raw energy. I’ve battled homelessness, mental health, and the weight of being overlooked in a saturated scene, but I turned that darkness into power.
GrimmWubs isn’t just about music, it’s a movement for anyone who’s been through hell and came back louder. Right now, I’m building out my visual world, designing live sets that blur the line between performance and experience, and collaborating with artists who aren’t afraid to get grimy. My goal is to take the underground to the frontlines, and I’m just getting started.
Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What part of you has served its purpose and must now be released?
The part of me that’s served its purpose, and needs to be released. Is the version of myself that played it safe to survive.
For too long, I carried the weight of fear, fear of not being enough, fear of failure, fear of being judged for where I came from. That fear kept me silent when I should’ve been screaming through the speakers. But that version of me built the foundation, taught me grit, and kept me alive when things were dark.
Now it’s time to bury that version. I’m no longer just surviving, I’m creating, I’m claiming space, and I’m making noise. The Reaper of Bass doesn’t ask for permission. He “summons” the storm.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
Suffering taught me how to feel everything, fully and unapologetically.
It stripped me down to my core, showed me who I was without the noise, the lights, the validation. It taught me how to create from emptiness, how to turn silence into sound, and pain into power. Suffering made me “hungry” ,not just for success, but for purpose. It showed me that real art doesn’t come from comfort — it comes from the shadows, from the fight, from the nights you thought you wouldn’t make it.
Success never taught me how to survive. Suffering did. And because of that, no stage, no crowd, no moment will ever be taken for granted.
So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. Is the public version of you the real you?
The public version of me is just one layer of the truth. What you see on stage, the Reaper of Bass, the chaos, the energy, the darkness, that’s real, but it’s not all of me. It’s the part of me that survived the worst and turned pain into power. Behind the mask and heavy drops is someone who’s battled homelessness, silence, and shadows. So yeah, it’s real, but it’s amplified, sharpened, and weaponized. The full story? That’s something I bleed into the music. You’ll feel it before you fully see it.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. If you retired tomorrow, what would your customers miss most?
If I vanished tomorrow, my fans wouldn’t just miss the drops, they’d miss the feeling. That raw, soul-shaking energy that pulls you into the void and spits you out reborn. They’d miss the moments where the bass hit harder than life ever did, where the darkness made people feel seen instead of alone. The chaos, the catharsis, the connection, that’s what I bring. I’m not just playing music… I’m summoning something. And if that disappeared, the ones who know? They’d feel the silence.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://epkbuilder.com/epks/grimmwubs
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/grimmwubs/
- Twitter: https://x.com/grimmwubs
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/justin.grimm.547
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@GrimmWubs
- Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/grimmwubs
