Everybody needs a good cry once in a while. And if you’re really hardcore, you cry blood.
Anoxia are very hardcore. On their “Tears, I Bleed,” powerhouse vocalist Chrystal James and her crew don’t just shed a few drops of type O negative from their ducts: They rain down a torrent of eye plasma that proves why they’re the pride of Baltimore’s post-industrial metal scene.
The song rams home its aggressively wounded sentiments with a piledriving, mechanistic feel that’s elevated by immaculate orchestration and arrangement. The key is James’ astounding voice, which segues effortlessly from a throaty moan to an operatic soar as she takes stock of a love affair that’s left nothing but devastation in its wake:
Can’t you see
Look what you’ve done to me
I can’t explain it
But I can’t breathe
And I hope it hurts when you think of me
Drown in the tears I’ve bleed
I hope I drown in my tears I bleed
It’s an intense, emotionally charged odyssey the band wrote to convey “the agony of betrayal and the powerful emotions that follow.” James’ impassioned delivery symbolizes the internal struggle between holding onto love and acknowledging that it’s been tainted beyond repair—albeit with cleansing catharsis, not pointless self-flagellation, as the intended outcome.
Call ‘em drama queens and they’ll probably thank you. “I’ve always been extremely theatrical,” James told Laura Williams of the website Vinyl Lollipops, explaining her approach to both musical performance and the band’s concept in general. The gist of the Anoxia mythology is that the musicians—guitarists Relic and Dust, bassist Ash and drummer/programmer Void—are “guardians” summoned by a spell and appearing before the audience in the form of undead animals. Their masked anonymity is totally in keeping with the modern-day Ghost/ Slipknot school of presentation that’s become a subgenre unto itself. And it’s showed off to appropriately eerie effect in the “Tears, I Bleed” video, which alternates starkly backlit performance footage with shots of James kneeling on a concrete floor and marking it with chalk. What she’s drawing is the Norse vegvisir, also known as the Viking Compass, a magic stave that’s said to help the bearer find their way through rough weather.
James has had to brave some storms of her own. She founded Anoxia all the way back in 2004, only to have its momentum stalled by an eight-year hiatus she pointedly describes as involuntary—a case of being “silenced.” (“A hiatus is never something ANY artist wants to experience,” she says, somewhat cryptically, “but sometimes the universe makes you sit down for a while.”) Having re-emerged in 2022 with a new configuration and focus, the group has been on a real roll ever since, including the release of their first ever full-length album, Relinquish the Quiet, in 2023. They’ve also established themselves as vital and energetic collaborators on the Baltimore scene: James performed a duet with Carbonstone’s Corey James on that band’s 2022 song “Pins & Needles” and in its accompanying video.
Not surprisingly for an outfit with such a visual orientation, Anoxia is in heavy demand as a live act. Next up for them is a high-profile appearance set for October 19 at Baltimore’s Zen West. Needless to say, it behooves you to materialize. Don’t wait to be summoned.
