Review: Carrion Spring, Those We've Lost and Continue to Lose
Carrion Spring's long-awaited full length is melodic, angry and ridiculously well made. Our honest review of the Zegema Beach record, track by track.
I have listened to this record three times this week. Once on the bus. Once with headphones in the dark. Once on speakers while doing the dishes. That is my review rule, and Carrion Spring earned all three listens without a single skip.
That last part matters more than it sounds. Emotional hardcore is a crowded lane. Most of it does not survive the second listen. This record does.
What Carrion Spring actually are
Carrion Spring are from Portland. They formed in 2008, right after the wave they sound like peaked (source). The band plays melodic, aggressive emotional hardcore. Think At The Drive-In’s tension, American Football’s guitar interplay, and vocals with a bit of Guy Picciotto in them.
The lineup is Adam Brock Ciresi on vocals. Ciresi and Stevie Son share the guitars. Gareth Welker plays bass, and Ben Scott plays drums. The whole record was recorded by Kurt Ballou of Converge at GodCity. That name tells you the bar they were aiming at.
Carrion Spring have been called emotional hardcore veterans, and the description fits. They have been releasing music on small labels for long enough that the underground knows the name. What they had not done, until now, was put out a full length that captures the whole band.
“Those We’ve Lost and Continue to Lose” fixes that. It is twelve songs and just over forty minutes. It came out on March 6, 2026. The label is Zegema Beach Records (Bandcamp).
Why the label matters
Zegema Beach is the label that kept this corner of the scene alive for two decades. Run by one person out of Ontario, it releases skramz and emotional hardcore that bigger labels would never touch. It also runs the Zampler compilation series. That is how most of us first heard half the bands we now love.
A release on ZBR arrives with real expectations attached. The label does not put out filler. Carrion Spring met those expectations, which is the first thing to say about this record.
Where this sits in 2026
Emotional hardcore is having a moment again. The current wave is younger, more global, and more bedroom-produced than anything from the genre’s first run. Labels like Zegema Beach sit at the center of it. They release records and run festivals like ZBR Fest in Vancouver and New Friends Fest.
Carrion Spring are not part of that wave. They are the older generation that the wave keeps rediscovering. The band formed in 2008 and stayed underground while the trends moved on. This record is the payoff for that patience.
It also works as a bridge. Someone who found screamo through TikTok last year can start here and hear where the sound comes from. Someone who was at the first wave of shows hears a band that never sold out and never quit. Both listeners get the same forty minutes, and both will find something in it.
That is a rare trick. Records that serve two generations at once usually fail one of them. This one does not.
NoteThis record was recorded at GodCity by Kurt Ballou. If the drums sound enormous and the guitars sound surgical, that is why. Ballou only seems to make good records.
The tracks that matter
Twelve songs, just over forty minutes. The sequencing is the quiet hero here, so here is the map.
| Track | Time | What it does |
|---|---|---|
| Abject Disaster | 4:00 | Rumbling bass, snappy drums, ever-morphing riffs. Sets the mood instantly. |
| Pocket Full of Poseurs | 3:14 | The vocalist lets go and the guitars lock into counter-melodies. |
| Carrion Phase Springs Eternal | 3:22 | Starts delicate, shifts into dense post-hardcore. The band’s range in one song. |
| The World Is No Longer a Beautiful Place and I’m Afraid to Die | 3:07 | A noise-rock detour with sludge bass and a build that begs to be played live. |
| Those We’ve Lost and Continue to Lose | 1:59 | A short closer that lands the title and then stops. Correct instinct. |
The opener sets the mood in four minutes. “Abject Disaster” starts with low, rumbling bass and drums that move like water. The guitars keep shifting underneath, so the song never settles into a groove you can predict.
“Pocket Full of Poseurs” is the moment the record clicks. It ends with a run of shouted lines that gets more desperate with every syllable. The vocalist names a great catastrophe and sounds like he has watched it happen. You cannot fake that delivery.
“Carrion Phase Springs Eternal” shows the band’s whole range. It opens with delicate counter-melodies, then builds into dense post-hardcore territory. The dynamics are the point, and the band handles them perfectly.
The title track closes the record in under two minutes. It lands the title and stops. In an era of ten-minute closers, that restraint is a feature, not a flaw.
What works
The guitar interplay is the main event. Ciresi and Son write counter-melodies that would sit comfortably on a Midwest emo record. Then they hit them with distortion. The result is a sound that is both pretty and mean. Holding that balance for forty minutes is genuinely hard.
The vocals carry the record further than the guitars. There is a mid-register intensity to them that recalls early At The Drive-In without copying it. The performance is the difference between a good record and a great one.
The lyrics aim outward, not inward. A lot of this record is about the systems that make us lose people. Grief is treated as a political fact, not a personal one. That framing keeps the record from feeling like a nostalgia trip, which is a real risk for this genre.
The production deserves its own paragraph. Kurt Ballou has a signature: drums that hit like a truck and guitars that are surgical without losing heat. He applied it here, and the band was smart enough to let him.
Where it stumbles
The mid-paced lane is well trodden. Two or three songs in the middle sit close enough that they blur on first listen. You notice it on listen one and stop noticing it by listen three, but it is there.
Forty minutes is also long for this genre. The band earns most of it through sequencing. A couple of tracks could still be trimmed without losing anything.
Neither complaint changes the verdict. This is a record that rewards attention. That is exactly what the scene needs more of.
Who this is for
If the description so far sounds familiar, that is the point. This record is for people who miss 2002 emotional hardcore but do not want a tribute act. It is also for people who never lived through 2002 and want to hear what the fuss was about.
For fans of the older school, the reference points are the right ones. At The Drive-In’s “Acrobatic Tenement” era, early Thursday, and pre-emo AFI all live somewhere in this record. It never copies any of them, but it speaks their language.
The vinyl is a proper 12-inch pressing through Zegema Beach. The label has been doing this long enough to get the packaging right. The digital version is up on Bandcamp if you want to hear it before you commit.
Who should buy this:
- You miss 2002 emotional hardcore that still sounds alive
- You own more Zegema Beach releases than you can count
- You like records that reward the third listen
- You can handle forty minutes of catharsis
If four boxes are ticked, buy it now. It is still available on Bandcamp.
The score
I score records on one question. Will I still be playing this in a year? For Carrion Spring, the answer is yes.
8/10. Melodic, angry, and ridiculously well made. Hardcore with emo leanings that feels like 2002 without sounding like a tribute act.
The Bottom Line
- Carrion Spring’s “Those We’ve Lost and Continue to Lose” is melodic, aggressive emotional hardcore at its best.
- The Ballou production, the guitar interplay, and the outward-facing lyrics carry it.
- A few mid-record tracks blur together, and forty minutes is a long listen.
- 8/10: it will still be in rotation in a year.
More record reviews live in the Reviews category. For the screamo and skramz side of the scene, head to Skramz & Screamo. All posts are on the blog index, and the reviewer’s rules are on the About page.