Baltimore’s Carbonstone Unleashes ‘Echoes,’ a Dark Anthemic Metal Anthem

 As the eyes of an anxious world turn toward the flipping of another calendar, everybody is wondering what 2025 is going to be like. Baltimore, MD angst-rockers Carbonstone have a ready if troubling answer: like a masochistic relationship.

On their delightfully disturbing new single, “Echoes,” the Charm City grind-’n-grandeur outfit lay out a textbook study in tender loving abuse. Lead vocalist/songwriter Corey James starts off by verbally confronting a partner who, he charges, likes to watch him bleed. “It’s like you love my suffering,” he challenges.

Hell of an accusation there, but by the chorus, he’s admitting that he can’t get enough of it: “Bury me underground, I’ll lie with you/ ‘Cause alone, I’m nothing.” Whew! “I’m so self-destructive,” he clarifies, in what could be the understatement of the century. (Or the cemetery, but more on that later.)

The schizoid despair of the words is matched perfectly by the music, which has all the essential elements in the band’s acclaimed brand of industrial alternative metal. James’ cleanly enunciated vocals emote dramatically above guitars that are overdriven into the red zone, hurtling together toward the cliff of musical passages that end up dangling a taunting half-step above resolution.  The effect is profoundly unsettling … yet completely habit-forming.

The reviews have been predictably ecstatic. East Coast Music Review calls the record “a sonic masterpiece on the rise,” while Indie Rage Radio praises the “anthemic sound and relatable lyrics” that make it “not just a song, but an experience.” And Mostly Music OWP says the track is “well-crafted, relatable, and holds its listeners in thrall from start to finish.”

Viewers will likewise be entranced by the accompanying music video, the latest in a long line of slickly produced Carbonstone clips awash in Gothic and/or brutalist imagery. The band shot this one in an actual cemetery during business hours, where they got to play their hearts out in front of a mausoleum while being mock-menaced by a bunch of costumed phantoms portrayed by various friends of the group—including Chrystal James, who sings lead for Baltimore post-industrial hard rockers Anoxia and also happens to be Corey James’ wife. The family that slays together …

 The single and video point to another banner year in the career renaissance Carbonstone have been enjoying since 2019, when they returned from an extended hiatus to prep and drop their first full-length studio album, 2021’s Dark Matter. Its singles, “AM Trauma” and “Hush,” nabbed #1 placements on radio for over a month straight while garnering hundreds of thousands of spins on Spotify. In the wake of that success, standalone singles like “Scream,” “Pins & Needles” (a duet with Chrystal James) and “Damaged Like You” cemented the creative fertility of the band’s latter-day configuration. (In addition to James on vocals and guitar, the lineup now includes Steve Junkins on lead guitar, Josh Provencio on guitar, Eric Dee on bass, Ted Hile on drums and programming and Tony Correlli as synths and production —with added excitement and embellishment from “Frankie” the Nightmare Hype Bear). Most recently, the group’s “White Noise” landed in the #1 spot multiple times on several reporting stations and enjoyed multiple weeks as the most requested track on Indie Rage Radio.

 The new year will see the release of Carbonstone’s second full-length album, the ominously titled The Absence of Self. In the interim, they have a big show coming up Saturday, January 25, at Cult Classic Brewery in Stevensville, Maryland, where they’ll be sharing the stage with The Oddeven and Silvertung. It’ll be an unforgettable addition to Carbonstone’s résumé of past gigs with the likes of Orgy, Cold, Drowning Pool, Saliva and Nita Strauss, and also ample evidence of why they so deserved their nomination as Best Metal Band in the 2024 Maryland Music Awards. Forget what we said about unhealthy relationships: Wanna bet that in 2025, the “Best” is yet to come?

https://carbonstone.net