Baltimore’s underground has been quietly — and sometimes violently — reshaping itself over the past few years. At the center of that churn sits Pearl, a four-piece whose sound refuses to settle, oscillating between hardcore urgency, electronic abrasion, and raw punk instinct. Today, the band announces their sophomore LP Love And Grief, due out April 20 via 20/20 Records, alongside the release of its lead single, “Party.”
“Party” arrives with a jolt. It’s a driving, confrontational track that leans into Pearl’s bass-heavy foundation while sharpening their sense of controlled chaos. The accompanying video, directed by Alexa Bristol, mirrors the song’s restless tension — raw, physical, and unafraid to let discomfort linger. It’s less a celebration than a confrontation, a recurring theme that defines Pearl’s work.
Pearl have spent years honing their sound within Maryland’s live circuit, building a reputation for sets that feel volatile yet precise. As Steve Johnson notes, rhythm section Flynn DiGuardia and Jesse Hutchison move with an almost instinctual sense of timing, bending tempo at will while never losing impact. Over that foundation, Sienna Cureton-Mahoney’s vocals cut through with startling clarity — shifting from rasped melody to full-throated scream — matched by Tommy Rouse’s winding, muscular guitar lines.
That tension between control and collapse is pushed even further on Love And Grief. The album moves freely between mid-tempo mosh grooves, garage-leaning rock passages, and straightforward hardcore stompers. But Pearl don’t stop there. Several tracks introduce electronic interludes crafted by DiGuardia alongside a shadowy collaborator credited only as “Gardner,” pulling from hyperpop, trap, and synthwave. These moments don’t soften the record — they destabilize it, forcing sharp contrasts between digital textures and the band’s physical, confrontational core.
Recorded, mixed, and mastered with Steve Wright at Wrightway Studios in Baltimore, the album sits in a deliberate liminal space: not fully raw, not overly polished. Punchy drums anchor blown-out vocals, capturing Cureton-Mahoney as what can only be described as the physical embodiment of “say it with your chest.” The result is a record that feels immediate without being careless — forward-thinking without abandoning punk’s primal impact.
Critics have already framed Pearl as part of a broader renaissance in Baltimore punk and hardcore, a scene currently defined less by a single sound than by radical freedom. As reviewer Pierce Jordan notes, Pearl operate comfortably within this ecosystem — not by imitating peers, but by stacking styles, tempos, and textures into something singular. Love And Grief ultimately feels less like a genre exercise and more like a statement of intent: punk as an open system, shaped by grief, pressure, and release.
“Party” is out now on all DSPs. Love And Grief lands April 20 via 20/20 Records.
Love And Grief — Tracklist
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Spiral
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Coward
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Deal
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Party
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Discipline
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Sleep
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Act Like Sisters
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Exercise
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Bad Seed
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Spy
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Paula Dean
About Pearl
Formed in Baltimore in 2018 by Cureton-Mahoney and Rouse, Pearl solidified with the addition of Hutchison and DiGuardia in 2019. Drawing influence from decades of punk, hardcore, metal, and electronic music — from Black Sabbath and Bad Brains to Bikini Kill, Nirvana, nu-metal, and electronica — the band channel that lineage into high-intensity live performances marked by sudden time changes, heavy breakdowns, and unapologetically confrontational vocals.
Love And Grief doesn’t aim to resolve tension — it thrives in it. And Pearl sound stronger for it.
“There’s a physicality to ‘Party’—from the bass weight to the way Sienna’s vocals cut through—how important was it for the song to feel embodied, almost confrontational, rather than just aggressive?”
The physicality of ‘Party’ is purposeful. The bass and drums are sultry and the guitar licks are always in danger of flying off the rails, but still remain in control. It’s meant to feel like dancing at some warehouse rave in the summer; sweaty and pulsing. I think the song sounds the best when cranked up loud enough so that you can feel the bass line vibrate through the floor. The vocals are all about the disparity between being celebratory and indulging in more hedonistic behaviours. That’s where the tension and confrontation lie. It’s about that time of night when you’re deciding if you’re going to be responsible or if it’s worth it to surrender to your vices and wander further into debauchery.
The video feels raw and unpolished in a way that mirrors Baltimore’s DIY punk lineage—was that aesthetic a deliberate nod to the city and scene that shaped Pearl, or did it emerge naturally through collaboration with Alexa Bristol?
The video is definitely a nod to the DIY music scene here. There is so much raw talent in our community, it’s really inspiring. Alexa did a great job of conveying the grit and seediness of local haunts. We actually shot a portion of the video at a notorious Motel 6 in the arts district in our area. A long time ago I had a studio directly across from it, and at night you would see people picking up johns. I was working on a painting randomly around 2 or 3 in the morning, when I heard this car come tearing up the street. From the window I saw this little red sports car go flying into the median and hit this hideous food related sculpture (probably made by someone at the nearby art school). Two women in tiny outfits (fabulous) wobbled out the car, miraculously unscathed and were immediately helped out by the folks at the motel. They were definitely physically shaken up but also there was a weird air of excitement coming from the two of them. Sirens started up and everyone scattered, including the driver. By the time the ambulance and police got to the scene, the whole street was completely empty except for the wrecked car. Shortly thereafter, a crane picked up the abandoned vehicle and by dawn it was like nothing had ever happened. The whole experience was a real life metaphor for the song and having Alexa film at the same motel made it feel even more inspired.
‘Party’ is a deceptively simple title for something that feels tense and heavy—how does that contrast play into the themes of Love & Grief, and what did you want listeners to question when they first pressed play?
The question for the listener is ‘To exercise self control or surrender to desire?’. For some people there’s this innate sense of discipline that guides them towards more practical, calculated decisions, creating balance. The thought process being ‘I’m in it for the long hall’ in terms of their lifestyles. For others, the mundane nature of everyday life, like working a 9-5, paying bills and repeating the same process over and over again is a pill that can only be swallowed with more dramatic and sometimes unhealthy sources of release. The thought process being ‘I’m in it for a good time not a long time’. The balance between the latter is always precarious. If each song from Love & Grief were a feeling or emotion, ‘Party’ would definitely be lust and desire; a dopamine rush that can be used to motivate and build connections, but without constraint, can lead to darker paths.
