CARTHAGE Mastermind Damian B
"Sometimes, tracks don't work out, and changing course is good"
Following my recent review of "Duskdawn", I had the opportunity to sit down with the mind behind CARTHAGE—Damian B—for a deeper dive into the making of this haunting and hypnotic record. The Birmingham-based artist opened up about his late-night sessions, fragmented inspirations, and the personal circumstances that shaped his third full-length release under the CARTHAGE moniker.
If you thought the album was intense, wait until you hear the stories behind it. From hospital stays to surreal-seeming writing spells, "Duskdawn" emerges as more than just a collection of tracks—it's a foggy journey through shadowy memories and liminal spaces. Read on for an intimate look behind the curtain.
Anne: Thanks very much for taking the time! How are you doing?
Damian: Very well, Anne. I hope you are, too. It's great to speak to you.
Anne: Congrats on your new album, "Duskdawn"! Are you happy with the outcome of your work?
Damian: It was a few years in the making, and I was constantly revisiting the songs, over and over and over, some more than others. It could be a case where I was out skating, or it was the middle of the night, and I'd think of something and then write or record my voice notes about tracks. Sometimes quite heated in tone to myself... I would question things like: "Why is that in there? Change that!" (laughs)
I was adding to it until the very end. It's not every track, but just parts of tracks, usually.
Anne: "Duskdawn" stands out due to its intense atmosphere, seamlessly blending elements from several genres. What inspired you to take this experimental approach? Which particular moments or experiences guided you to push the sound in this direction?
"The unexpected situations inspire me"
Damian: Sometimes it's a situation where something unexpected happens; you hear some music from a totally detached genre you didn't know about or music that happens in a part of a film or a play; a sound from a street, the music from a passing car…
Or something you once heard somewhere—like a gallery or something—not associated with rock music at all, and think: "I'd love to do that but in a big rock venue."
I also sometimes wonder, "What if the current live set had a song that sounded like '... '?" and then try to make that song.
I like to evaluate things and also bite the bullet if a song isn't on track.
I have a story: There was a song I had many years ago that was really annoying me in part. I didn't actually realise it for ages, but it had been bugging me. So I researched a way to make the sound change at the annoying part, and it all started slowing down noticeably. It was me saying F*ck off to the song (laughs). Even though I wrote it.
The song would hit that part, start slowing down—like there was a fault in it—then hit a slower-but-steady tempo, then stay there. It changed the dynamic entirely and became something totally new. It re-routed and remained on the new plane.
Sometimes, tracks don't work out, and changing course is good.
By the way, that's the sort of situation where it helps if you create the music yourself, not in an external studio (laughs). Imagine trying to explain it to an engineer you just met.
When writing, I would start on some tracks with maybe an influence or two in mind but, in no time, the track would go its own course, and I do believe in letting those tangents go or proceed on their own momentum.
But also, sometimes some parts, some tracks just evolved very quickly, regardless of anything. This was the case with "wholivesinsideofyou" and "Jet Fuel".
And "Jet Fuel" was a mistake: I was looking at a certain tract of guitar and had looped it, so I got the sense of it as it played over and over, with a view to developing it for something. Then, I decided that the loop itself was a "thing". I wrote a note to myself about it... i.e. "Go back and listen to that loop".
"Field of Blue" started with a simple notion. It started as an extension of the final song of the previous album, "Midnight White", which is called "Next To You". I liked the fact that different tangents could be at play, namely, different times/years and going between them.
When I started, the atmosphere seemed to be "of" the same fabric as that song. I wanted to get something else—something new—into existence, and so I started with the synth line. I then got the piano happening and imagined two pianos facing each other in a room. And what would the sound be like? What are the players doing when they play? It built up.
Anne: How did your personal experience with your accident and the hospital stay influence the album's themes and sound? Were there any specific moments or experiences that influenced the songs?
"I enjoy writing in sections"
Damian: "Rain Indoors" definitely was such a moment, as the song—at that stage—was in fragments, and so were parts of me.
After the hospital, I got so sick of looking at this partially written track on the desk that I pushed hard to get it into shape, which was, at times, quite unpleasant as I was in a plaster cast.
I could sort of play guitar if I bent my "cast" hand for short periods.
The vocals on that track are all one take, mostly on painkillers. One bit was so arduous to do, and there's this sharp intake of breath... That's near the end of the song. I left it in.
The riffs had this sort of disorder about them, and I left them that way and made the beats fit them.
On a separate note, I really like writing that way. I mean, I like writing/recording sections of guitar, piano, or bass and leaving them as unrefined as possible—as first takes, no changes—then writing the beats to fit them.
Anne: You told me you wrote the songs in late-night sessions. Would you recommend working late at night, and would you say that it stimulates creativity?
Damian: It has always been this way for me: the best energy at night and the time when things seem clearest. Maybe it's from going and seeing gigs in my early years and missing the last train home, too, so I was often just left wandering around (laughs).
But let's face it: nights are when the planet is most peaceful and away from the diurnal factors—mainly the nine-to-five people, of which I am not a fan. I also got used to it from being out at many very late D&B nights, which generally wouldn't get going until 1 or 2 am at least.
Generally, nighttime is also a big factor in how I got to know about music: it was from listening to very late-night radio. Though I loved daytime radio too, of course, I'm conscious of sounding all introverted and insular! I'm not.
I never stopped listening to the radio, and in fact, one of the most important shows I ever listened to was broadcast from 2 to 4 am. That was on BBC Radio 1. That's another story. Late-night radio is awesome.
Anne: Are you planning to record your next record like that, and have you done it this way before?
"I've already started to write my next record!"
Damian: Yes, and I have started. I think I always have, really, in terms of writing late... but sometimes writing super early too is really interesting as later on in the day, the material that you wrote earlier feels really detached, like: from a different person.
I'll listen back and think, "Where did that come from?" As, by later on, I will have completely forgotten the original idea for it.
Anne: With the songs on "Duskdawn", you blended shoegaze, noise rock, and industrial elements. What led you to fuse these genres in such a unique way?
Damian: I love the counterpoint between the "hardness" of whatever "industrial" suggests and, with the quietest, silent thing I can think of.
But usually, it's the overarching impulse that seems to be driving the day, which initiates a track into being.
Some tracks may start with guitar latched to some BPM, some with just beats or a loop, or an idea I wrote down.
And about the guitar: it was actually difficult to understand how to bring guitars in, let alone bass. I struggled with it for years. It felt odd and a bit depressing. So, in the past, the guitar was mainly used as details, not a primary thing.
Aesthetically, I just couldn't get it. But I gradually did it both live and in recording and started to get a feeling for the sort of sound it would be and how it could be arranged.
As time went on, I really wanted elements that were super repetitive, and parts that were grouped together, massed together, similar to Glen Branca. There are elements of that sort of sound in "Duskdawn" too, such as in "Rain Indoors" and "wholivesinsideofyou".
Also, on "Intertrans", there are many, many guitar tracks stacked up together as I wanted that massed effect. But on some tracks, the guitars all play different roles, influenced directly by the early new wave, postpunk, sometimes by screamo, and hardcore.
Time plays a part: equipment changes, too, which affects the sound. There are things from the past which I miss a bit. For example, I had an old guitar that had an awesome sound, but I don't have it now. But it changes all the time; there are things I did this week that I didn't do last week.
I find it interesting when it comes to older gear: I know of producers—could be beats, could be electronica—who worked with gear in the 90s and 00s, which was really "limited" in some ways, but they swear that the sounds they got were the best. You find that in old hip hop, too: the sounds came from certain equipment, and it's of the moment. Some albums which came out of these eras couldn't sound any other way.
J Dilla's art form is an example. And the great D&B producer Paradox uses what could be considered "old" equipment—live, too—as it is part of his DNA. The Paradox is incredible.
I wanted to say that, on the shoegaze front, I am so into the current wave of shoegaze bands. My personal favourite is when it's shoegaze and hardcore fusing. I won't go into details about all the bands, but I listen to them so much every day.
Anne: Your music often combines deep, dark tones with subtle electronics. How do you approach balancing heaviness and subtlety in your compositions?
"I wanted to play a quiet live show"
Damian: A few years ago. I wanted to see how quiet things could go, rather than heavy, and I really wanted to try it live, too. That quiet approach can be quite a tricky process, as some sounds run the risk of disappearing or sounding pointless. But it can be good in some ways too, as the quiet material can sound really good through a big gig PA.
I tend to get little feelings or intuitions about certain parts of songs during writing, and then it can be a case of "there's a part that must go here", which could be a heavy interlude. But it will depend.
I also take the instruments and vocals into the sampler and have always loved doing that. That's the best. Sometimes, the sampler can reveal certain idiosyncrasies, too, when you listen back. Anomalies. There are lots of guitars-as-samples in "Intertrans".
Anne: Daniela VK's vocal contributions are prominent on the album. How did the collaboration come together, and how did her voice shape the album's atmosphere?
Damian: We worked together significantly on the previous album, "Midnight White", and the process continued seamlessly on to "Duskdawn". Over time, we worked organically on the vocals of the tracks.
Anne: How did this collaboration enhance the overall atmosphere of the album?
Damian: I feel that it touches a different place that is both familiar and unfamiliar.
"Dialtone" is a very "visual" song, and I think Daniela's vocals, when it comes, shifts it all into another dimension. That is one of my favourite parts of the album.
Similar to the end of "Intertrans" and the mood there, with Daniela's voice, which is a whole shifting vista in itself, and one which was so fun when it all came together, writing it. I almost damaged my hearing on that part as I pushed it very hard.
Anne: The album's title evokes a sense of duality. Can you tell me more about the idea of "Duskdawn" and how it connects to the album's narrative?
"Tapestries of people you meet"
Damian: Some parts are metaphysical, but some are not so much; they are stark. So those states mesh together a lot—both in sound and in lyrics. Particularly in "Field of Blue".
After "Midnight White", I got immersed in the elements of "Duskdawn" as quick as I could and in ways and working late at night, too, made things more vivid…. daytime is full of distractions, after all.
I started to refer to it as "day blurring": tapestries of people you meet, people that now exist in memory, people you may see daily, places you know, places you imagine, places that you did know but changed over time, waking dreams, conversations you had or thought you had… almost like counterpoints of different images of life, eras; juxtaposed on each other, phasing in and out.
Like holding two transparencies against each other and looking at the result; one state could be at 2 am, the other in the midday sun.
I wanted the tracks to be quite vivid in some parts... but without going into too much detail, I didn't want it all to be simply track/track/track/track etc.
Aside from this, I also liked the thought of the phrase "Duskdawn" as it sounded like it could be a codeword for some secret operation, that sounded a bit detached and impassive, like something on grey sheet metal.
Anne: How do the distorted and dreamlike qualities of "Duskdawn" represent your personal experiences during its creation?
Damian: There was a lot of reflection, mainly when I wasn't near any recording equipment, and I especially was thinking about what it would sound like after "Midnight White", but I mainly just wanted to play/write as fast as possible.
At the start of "Unattainable"—before the track comes in with the main riff and drums—there is another piece which had evolved in maybe 2022. It comes back near the end. It bookends the main track and offsets it, giving a shift.
I just wanted the atmosphere of "Unattainable" to reflect shifting realities that you can't quite grasp, and also to show calm contrasted with chaos. But also, the recording of the album wasn't all introspective, and in this track, I wanted to play fast, too, as I like doing that.
In "Just Like Glass", there's also an edge of shifting realities, but more subdued: someone is "there" but as if behind an opaque barrier.
The "someone" may be from decades ago, but in the mind, they are really there, tangible.
Anne: You're also involved with KHOST and other projects. How does CARTHAGE differ in terms of sound and creative freedom? Do your bands complement each other well?
"I'd love to know more about how the bands wrote their songs in the 70s!"
Damian: Both use atmospheres both on record and live, with KHOST occupying a very different and unique sphere.
Anne: Justin K. Broadrick mastered the album. How did his involvement influence the final sound of "Duskdawn"?
Damian: We would chat about certain things, both related and unrelated, over time, but the bottom line is that it was great to hear the final mastered versions. To be honest, I had lived very close to all the tracks for ages, and I couldn't decipher certain things any more—I couldn't be objective about them. I listened to Justin's final versions and thought, "I can't do any more". I knew it was time to shut down.
On a separate point about mastering, I really think about a lot of the bands of the 70s and how they worked: many dislocated sessions in studios, sometimes multiple studios, all the recordings on tapes, sometimes tapes that were physically spliced with physical tape... my gosh. And with the bands all leading insanely chaotic lives.
So the final mastering stage, where all of this physical material was collated, transported and then ultimately readied for pressing, is a real mystery to me. I'd love to know more about how it was all done.
Anne: Are you going on tour with "Duskdawn"?
Damian: I have the tracks in a state that they have been readied for live work, which I really enjoy doing, and a big—immense—part is the visual and immersive lighting side of things, which has been really expanded upon!
Anne: What do your future plans look like? How are you spending your days right now? Are there current projects or new music you're focusing on following the release of "Duskdawn"? You said you're already working on a new record?
Damian: I'm writing a lot as we speak, and much has been written from the course of late last year into 2025. Winter's awesome for writing, and the transition to spring is something I think about a lot, especially the phases of the year and particularly how animals adapt to the seasons.
Animals are so inconceivably strong to contend with, not just winter but man-made factors.
Anne: That's so true. We should definitely take up this topic in our next conversation! Thanks very much for answering my questions! It's been a pleasure talking with you! I wish you all the best with your plans and the album!
Damian: Thank you, Anne.
