Name: The Blue Stones – Metro North America ‘25
Start: 2025-04-22T20:00:00-04:00
Location: Terminal West

$The Blue Stones \u2013 Metro North America \u201825$

THE BLUE STONES – METRO NORTH AMERICA ‘25
TUE, 22 APR 2025 at 08:00PM EDT
Ages: All Ages
Doors Open: 07:00PM
OnSale: Fri, 31 Jan 2025 at 10:00AM EST
Announcement: Tue, 28 Jan 2025 at 10:00AM EST
You settle into the worn seat of a subway car barely holding together, graffiti scrawled across its walls beneath flickering ads for bionic enhancements and synthetic upgrades. A mechanical voice crackles through the loudspeaker: “The next stop is… your tiny, stupid little worthless life.” This is Metro—a dark, gritty ride through rebellion, duality, and self-discovery… and The Blue Stones’ boldest album yet. The Blue Stones—vocalist and guitarist Tarek Jafar and drummer Justin Tessier—formed during their university days, inspired by the freedom of creating without boundaries. They grew from playing small-town bars to headlining iconic venues like The Troubadour in Los Angeles, Electric Ballroom in London, and The Danforth Music Hall in Toronto. Along the way, they’ve racked up over 300 million streams, three JUNO nominations, and radio hits like Shakin’ Off the Rust, which topped Rock charts in Canada and hit #5 on U.S. Mainstream Rock. METRO – the band’s fourth full-length LP – takes that ethos even further. The album follows a protagonist navigating a dystopian subway, confronting a personified version of their darker side—a manifestation of their buried need for authenticity. “The subway is a metaphor for the conflict we all face,” says Tarek. “It’s about balancing societal expectations with your own self-serving desires.” The loudspeaker’s voice, eerie and detached, becomes the protagonist’s inner critic, a manifestation of societal pressure that feels alien yet inescapable. Tracks like “Your Master” and “K*ll Box” burn with snarling defiance, fusing raw distorted guitar grooves with a devil-may-care energy. The baritone guitar, a new instrument for Jafar, lends to the album’s swaggy, groovy heaviness. This is evident on songs like “Come Apart,” where a heavy riff with beautiful simplicity meets brash, punchy drums with a swing groove feel—a combination signature to The Blue Stones. The opening lines of the chorus, “Woke up with a headache // Don’t know how I’m gonna work today”, offer a poignant take on today’s hyperconnected, chronically online world. Then there’s “Happy Cry,” a moment of catharsis and raw emotion. With its live-off-the-floor energy and soaring vocals, it bursts with triumphant release, capturing the thrill of starting over and embracing growth. The Blue Stones’ sound—a melting pot of rock, blues, hip-hop, and pop—has always set them apart. They thrive on contrasts: they’re the heaviest band at alt festivals they’ve played like Osheaga and Bonnaroo, but the most melodic band at fests like Aftershock – always sticking to their own carved-out path. “We’ve always wanted our music to empower people,” says Justin. “This record is about reconnecting with your authentic self—the part of you buried under everyone else’s expectations.” With METRO, The Blue Stones deliver their most unfiltered, unapologetic work yet. Step aboard. The next stop is whatever you make it. You cautiously settle into your seat in the dingy subway car that’s seemingly just holding together, like a weathered canvas tent in a relentless storm. The abundant, sloppily drawn, low-effort graffiti provides stark contrast to the ads for the latest high-tech personal AI assistant devices, bionic enhancements, and synthetic implements in the poster panels. The lights flicker, the air hums with tension, and somewhere overhead, a mechanical voice whispers: “The next stop is your tiny, stupid little worthless life.” This is no ordinary subway. It’s a ride through rebellion, duality, and self-discovery—set to the dark, gritty soundtrack of The Blue Stones’ latest album, METRO. The Blue Stones’ journey to this moment didn’t happen overnight. Guitarist and vocalist Tarek Jafar and drummer Justin Tessier formed the band during their university years, after realizing they didn’t need anyone’s permission to pursue what they loved. “We’d been best friends since high school,” says Tarek, “but it wasn’t until halfway through undergrad that we said, ‘Why don’t we just start playing?’” They began in local bars, expanded to regional stages, and soon found themselves headlining sold-out shows across Canada, the U.S., Europe, and the U.K., including iconic venues like The Troubadour in Los Angeles, London’s Electric Ballroom, and Toronto’s Danforth Music Hall. Their sound—a melting pot of influences ranging from rock and blues to hip-hop and R&B—has always set them apart. “We grew up in the age of pirating music,” Justin notes. “So, our tastes were vast.” This genre-blurring approach has earned The Blue Stones over 300 million streams worldwide, three JUNO nominations, and a #1 Rock radio hit in Canada with Shakin’ Off the Rust. Across their catalog, they’ve landed four Top 5 hits at Canadian Rock radio and three songs in the Top 40 between U.S. Alternative Airplay and Mainstream Rock. This refusal to fit neatly into one box has defined the band’s trajectory. “We’ve never really belonged to a lane,” says Tarek. “At an alt festival, we’re usually the heaviest band. At a hard rock festival, we’re the softest. We’ve always just done things our way.” That ethos is amplified on METRO, a record where the duo stopped chasing singles and started creating purely for themselves. Unlike traditional concept albums, METRO isn’t confined to its lyrical narrative. Instead, the story emerges through the interludes, sonic aesthetics, and overarching themes. “The subway is a metaphor for the conflict we all face,” explains Tarek. “It’s about balancing the expectations people put on you with your own self-serving desires. Society tells you to focus on yourself and get ahead, but at the same time, it demands morality, appearances, and validation. That tension feels especially sharp in this ‘high-tech, low-life’ setting.” At its heart, METRO follows a protagonist grappling with their darker impulses. Along the way, they confront a personified version of their selfish side—a manifestation of their buried need for authenticity. “This ‘bad side’ is the release valve,” Tarek adds. “It’s the part of you that’s been repressed for so long it has no choice but to break free.” The album’s defiant tone pulses through tracks like “Your Master,” which ignites the record with snarling guitars and unhinged energy. “We walked into the studio with one goal: don’t write a single,” Tarek says. “We wanted to create something unbound by expectations—and it unlocked a new level of creativity for us.” This freedom extended across METRO, with moments of swagger (“Don’t Feel Right”), catharsis (“Happy Cry”), and reinvention (“New Immigrant”). METRO was written and recorded in collaboration with producer Paul Meany, who helped the duo strip down their creative process to its rawest elements. “It was just the three of us, working 12- to 14-hour days, cooking dinners together, and throwing ideas around without fear of judgment,” recalls Justin. This intimate environment allowed the band to shed outside expectations, delivering their most authentic work to date. “We’ve always wanted our music to empower people,” says Justin. “It’s not about wallowing in misery. It’s about taking control and building something your way.” Tarek adds: “This record is about reconnecting with your authentic self—the part of you you’ve buried under everyone else’s expectations.” This is The Blue Stones at their boldest. Step aboard. The next stop is whatever you make it. You cautiously settle into your seat in the dingy subway car that’s seemingly just holding together, like a weathered canvas tent in a relentless storm. The abundant, sloppily drawn, low-effort graffiti provides stark contrast to the ads for the latest high-tech personal AI assistant devices, bionic enhancements, and synthetic implements in the poster panels. The lights flicker, the air hums with tension, and somewhere overhead, a mechanical voice whispers: “The next stop is your tiny, stupid little worthless life.” This is no ordinary subway. It’s a ride through rebellion, duality, and self-discovery—set to the dark, gritty soundtrack of The Blue Stones’ latest album, Metro. Unlike traditional concept albums, Metro isn’t confined to its lyrical narrative. Instead, the concept seeps through the interludes and sonic aesthetics, while the songs themselves form emotional and thematic checkpoints. The result is an album that captures the feeling of being stuck in a loop—riding the same train, facing the same pressures—until something snaps. “The subway is a metaphor for the conflict we all face,” says guitarist and vocalist Tarek Jafar. “It’s about balancing the expectations people put on you with your own self-serving desires. Society tells you to focus on yourself and get ahead, but at the same time, it demands morality, appearances, and validation. That tension feels especially sharp in this ‘high-tech, low-life’ setting.” At its heart, Metro follows a protagonist grappling with their darker impulses. Along the way, they confront a personified version of their selfish side—a manifestation of their buried need for authenticity. “This ‘bad side’ is the release valve,” Tarek explains. “It’s the part of you that’s been repressed for so long it has no choice but to break free.” The antagonist isn’t the subway’s haunting loudspeaker but something far more personal: “It’s that inner critic shaped by society,” adds drummer Justin Tessier. “A voice that feels alien to you but still manages to keep you down.” This sense of conflict pulses through every track. “Your Master” ignites the record with snarling guitars and a devil-may-care energy that channels the defiance at Metro’s core. “We walked into the studio with one goal: don’t write a single,” says Tarek. “We wanted to create something unbound by expectations—and it unlocked a new level of creativity for us.” From there, the record sways between swagger and introspection. “Don’t Feel Right,” a gritty leftover demo from Pretty Monster, became the seed for Metro’s sonic direction with its distorted baritone guitar groove and unapologetic tone. On “Happy Cry,” the duo trades chaos for catharsis, delivering a track bursting with raw emotion and “live-off-the-floor” energy. “That one came together so naturally,” Justin recalls. “Most of what you hear is from the first take we laid down in Paul’s home studio.” For all its heaviness, Metro remains deeply empowering. Songs like “New Immigrant” celebrate reinvention and growth, pairing infectious hooks with triumphant energy, while “Falling Leaves” offers a quiet reflection on the inevitability of change. “We’ve always wanted our music to be there for people when they’re ready to turn things around,” says Justin. “It’s not about wallowing in misery. It’s about taking control and building something your way.” Independence also defines Metro on a personal level. Written and recorded with longtime collaborator Paul Meany in an intimate, stripped-back environment, the album allowed the band to shed outside expectations. “It was just the three of us, working 12- to 14-hour days, cooking dinners together, and throwing ideas around without fear of judgment,” Justin recalls. Tarek agrees: “That freedom gave us room to breathe and explore ideas we wouldn’t have found if we’d been focused on writing hits.” With Metro, The Blue Stones dive headfirst into their most authentic work yet, embracing risks and defying genre lines along the way. “It’s liberating to write and release exactly what we want,” says Tarek. “This record is about reconnecting with your authentic self—the part of you you’ve buried under everyone else’s expectations.” This is The Blue Stones at their boldest, creating music that feels alive, raw, and unrelenting. Step aboard. The next stop is whatever you make it. You cautiously settle into your seat in the dingy subway car that’s seemingly just holding together, like a weathered canvas tent in a relentless storm. The abundant, sloppily drawn, low-effort graffiti provides stark contrast to the ads for the latest high-tech personal AI assistant devices, bionic enhancements, and synthetic implements in the poster panels. The lights flicker, the air hums with tension, and somewhere overhead, a mechanical voice whispers: “The next stop is your tiny, stupid little worthless life.” This is where Metro, the latest album from The Blue Stones, begins—a journey through rebellion, duality, and transformation, told through a series of sonic “stops.” Unlike traditional concept albums, Metro isn’t confined to its lyrical narrative. Instead, the concept seeps through the interludes and sonic aesthetics, while the songs themselves form emotional and thematic checkpoints. The result is an album that captures the feeling of being stuck in a loop—riding the same train, facing the same pressures—until something snaps. At the heart of Metro is a protagonist’s struggle with inner duality. On this ride, an escape of sorts, they meet a projection of the “devil on their shoulder” that tempts them to break free from societal constraints, abandon expectations, and embrace a life driven by pure instinct and selfish desire. It’s a conflict reminiscent of Fight Club, not just between rebellion and responsibility, but between authenticity and control. Each song represents a moment of tension or release, from fiery defiance to quiet introspection. This isn’t just a creative shift for The Blue Stones; it’s a personal one. Gone are the calculated attempts to craft singles or chase trends. Metro is a pure, unfiltered expression of their sound—a heavier, darker, and grittier record that feels truer to who they are. The album was co-written and produced by longtime collaborator Paul Meany, who helped the duo strip everything down to its rawest elements. Baritone guitars growl through tracks like “Don’t Feel Right” and “Come Apart,” lending a weight that’s as primal as it is groovy. The stops on Metro are as varied as the emotions they evoke. “Don’t Feel Right,” born during the sessions for Pretty Monster, became the blueprint for the album’s unapologetic swagger. It’s heavy, distorted, and dripping with a devil-may-care attitude. Second single “K*ll Box”, released in November of last year, follows suit, blending hip-hop beats with serrated riffs in a way that sets The Blue Stones apart from any comparisons to duos like The White Stripes or Royal Blood. The ride isn’t without its moments of vulnerability. “Happy Cry,” the album’s emotional centerpiece, is a decade-old idea finally brought to life during a writing session in Paul Meany’s New Orleans studio. Its explosive energy and “live-off-the-floor” feel make it a triumphant anthem of catharsis and renewal. Then there’s “New Immigrant,” a swaggering, feel-good track that channels optimism and reinvention, urging listeners to shed their old skin and embrace what’s next. Throughout the album, the protagonist wrestles with modern existentialism. Tracks like “Your Master” howl with rebellion, while “Come Apart” captures the suffocating disconnect of the digital age: “I can’t connect anymore, I don’t see the point.” By the time the album reaches its closing moments, songs like “Falling Leaves” provide a rare moment of quiet reflection—acknowledging the passage of time and the inevitability of change, while finding beauty in the cycle. Tying it all together are the interludes, where the eerie loudspeaker voice taunts the listener with existential musings and grim directives. It’s never clear if the voice belongs to the subway system, the protagonist’s mind, or something else entirely. What’s clear is that it pushes the story forward, adding tension to every stop. This record is a declaration of freedom. For the first time, The Blue Stones own their work entirely, and that independence has allowed them to take risks and defy expectations. The album’s themes of self-empowerment and rebellion feel personal to the band, who decided to stop chasing what they thought people wanted to hear and start making the music they’ve always wanted to make. Metro doesn’t ask for permission or validation. It’s a raw, uncompromising ride that challenges its listeners to question their own tracks in life. The Blue Stones invite you aboard—but they’re not slowing down for anyone.