Stone speaks to us, sometimes. It did to John Dyer Baizley, almost on the daily in early 2020 as he found himself wandering with his dog amongst the marble, granite, limestone and wrought iron of West Laurel Hill Cemetery near his home in northwestern Philadelphia. Largely devoid of Christian iconography, this quiet collection of grand mausoleums and looming obelisks, polished markers and weatherbeaten sarcophagi touched the Baroness frontman. Too often, his dreams had turned to nightmares in the depths of lockdown, but the seriousness and serenity here settled him. “Stone is eternal,” he reasons today, over three years since those strolls. “It’s timeless, ageless, inexorable. It can be a memorial; a reminder; something that will last beyond us. Walking through that beautif...