Raised in a deeply musical and spiritual household, Tone Stith’s journey began behind the drum kit in church at age three and expanded to include keys, production, and guitar by the time he reached adulthood. “Music really chose me,” he told EBONY. Yet, even with years of experience and acclaim, his album The Edge marks the first time he feels he has a complete message that goes beyond love songs and traditional R&B themes. Anchored by his single “Fly,” the album chronicles his decision to let go of a label, of personal losses, of fear—and step fully into his calling as an artist with something urgent to say.

He weaves in upbeat melodies through songs like the title track “The Edge,” and other tracks such as “Shut Up,” and “I Quit,” which also incorporate vulnerable themes of navigating the music industry and trying to juggle so many voices when the only one he now seeks is from a higher power. Over the last two years, the 30-year-old has been pushed through self-discovery and uncomfortable honesty.

The result is a refined version of himself: a grown man rooted in faith, clear about his purpose and unafraid to be vulnerable. Ahead of The Edge‘s release as he prepared to share the album with the world and bring it to the stage with a full band and renewed energy, he caught up with EBONY to discuss this album’s energy, his focus on legacy and what it means to be in the moment.

EBONY: When it comes to your sound, how would you say your upbringing influenced how you found your signature sound?

Tone Stith: Music really chose me. I grew up in church in a musical household—my dad’s a drummer, my mom’s a singer who did theater and sang in church. I was at church every weekend. As a kid, sitting through rehearsals was supposed to be my punishment, but I was subconsciously studying the choir, the band, the instruments. I fell in love with drums around three years old, played them through high school, jazz band, everything. By 10 or 11, I picked up keys and started producing, sampling and putting things together. Around 18 or 19, I picked up guitar and made myself a full band so I wouldn’t have to depend on anyone else to get the music done.

With this new album, what creative space would you say you are tapping into this era?

I’ve been saying [The Edge] is the sound of freedom. Creatively, I’m walking in that—just living in it and letting God work through me. I’m in a space of serving: myself, the fans, other artists and other producers. It’s the most free I’ve ever felt.

When you think about this era, what was the creative process like for this album and telling the story of this new version of yourself?

It started with letting go. I lost some very close people—one was my manager, one was a production partner I’d known since my teens, and my grandpa passed in the same year. I left RCA and some other situations too. It felt like God was telling me, “Let it go, let Me do what I do.” Once I stepped back, the story revealed itself: this is your truth, this is where you are in life, and these are the things you need to talk about because other people are going through it too.

“Fly” came from that real place—I needed to break free, take a leap of faith. That resonated with so many people and set up the whole album’s message. For the first time, I feel like I have a complete message beyond love and traditional R&B. As a Black man in America, I feel like people need to hear this from me.

As you were recording songs like “Fly,” how did you mentally prepare to shed so much and be that vulnerable?

The last few years were really about growing into that vulnerability and stepping into it with confidence. Over the past two years making this album, I’ve gotten to a place where I feel fully transparent in my music. My brain works differently now when I think about writing—what I’m saying and how I’m saying it. It took growth, pain, and just going through life. Now I feel like a more refined version of myself. I understand my power, my talents, my gifts in a new way.

How would you say you challenged yourself creatively in this era?

I went back to my roots. A lot of my music has been traditional R&B, trap-soul influenced and Chris Brown influenced. But growing up, my biggest influences were Michael [Jackson], Prince and Stevie [Wonder]. I wanted to create something that could live in the same world as them.

I had this Mount Rushmore of artists in my head, and I was aiming for that level. I’ve never put out a body of work like this, but I’ve wanted to since I was a kid. Now I’m finally letting the world in on my real roots and who I am. I don’t think people are going to expect what’s on this album—but I think it’s going to take off.

What did you learn about yourself while making this album and building this new world?

I learned how strong I am when I let God be God. I realized how much confidence I actually have when I stop masking things. Being an artist is already a vulnerable place, and over the years, I got good at hiding what I really felt.

This time, I had to embrace the uncomfortable—asking, “Why are these flaws here? Why do I feel like this?” I had to dissect where things came from and meet it all head-on. That helped me relearn myself and step out with the confidence that I’m supposed to be here. It’s not luck. I was given this gift and this duty to serve. So every room I walk into now, it’s not to compete, but just to be me.

From a mental health perspective, this industry has a lot of ups and downs. What advice would you give new artists on how to maintain their mental health?

For me, it’s Jesus, that’s my Lord and Savior. That’s where I pull from and how I stay grounded. But I know people have different religions and beliefs, so I think it comes down to: where do you feel the most grounded? You need a space that no one else is allowed to enter, where your spiritual connection and inspiration live. Guard that space. This industry can throw you off your game with a lot of mind games, and that can turn into self-infliction, self-sabotage and imposter syndrome. I’ve been there.

The key is staying true to what inspires you and remembering who you’re talking to with your music. If you were sitting down with that person, how would you tell them the story? How would you encourage them? What’s the message? Music is powerful—it can influence generations. So you hold that gift high. And you have to move like there’s only a plan A. For me, there was never a plan B—I’m doing this until the wheels fall off.

As you step into this new chapter, what do you hope fans—both day ones and new listeners—take away from the album?

I want people to experience the fully refined, developed Tone Stith. I’m 30 now—and I don’t say that a lot—but I’m in a place where you can hear me as a grown man with something to say and something to stand for. I hope this is where legacy building really starts. When I’m no longer here, I want people to look back and say, “I remember when he did that complete switch and everything just connected.”

This conversation is edited for clarity and brevity.