Maryland’s own BruceBAn$hee has never been one for half measures. Since exploding onto the scene in 2020, the self-made artist has carved out a corner of the underground where punk, rap, and emo pop smash together in glorious disarray. His music feels like a sonic riot—a deliberate mess of distortion, melody, and vulnerability that could only be the product of total creative freedom. On his latest EP, TEENAGEANGST, BruceBAn$hee channels that restless energy into an eight-track odyssey that thrums with frustration, heartbreak, and youthful euphoria. It’s loud, raw, and at times unexpectedly beautiful—a record that captures the turbulence of growing up with a scream and a shrug.
The opening track, “Finger Food”, doesn’t waste a second easing listeners in. It drops like a match into gasoline—buzzing guitars and clattering drums set the stage for BruceBAn$hee’s charismatic vocal barrage. There’s a wiry energy in his rapped delivery, a kind of manic precision that feels like he’s teetering right on the edge of collapse. The production hits with the bite of lo-fi punk while his flow nods toward early SoundCloud rap’s rebellious unpredictability. It’s the perfect tone-setter: fast, gritty, and unfiltered. He’s not trying to impress anyone, but getting it all out, as if the song itself were an emotional purge.
From there, “WooHoo!” bursts forth with the swagger of a basement mosh pit. Fuzzy basslines crawl underneath a dizzying swirl of shouted chants and melodic hooks. The track thrives on its contradictions—aggressive but danceable, chaotic yet strangely catchy. BruceBAn$hee doesn’t aim for polish; he aims for pulse. The chorus crashes like an adrenaline rush, and you can practically feel the sweat of a live show bleeding through the mix. It’s the kind of track that blurs the line between punk and rap so completely that genre becomes irrelevant—it’s just energy, distilled and detonated.
“Dark Woods” pulls the tempo back slightly, trading the earlier euphoria for something more atmospheric and introspective. Shuffling drum patterns weave through dark guitar textures, and BruceBAn$hee’s strained vocals carry the track’s emotional weight. There’s a loneliness hiding in his voice, the kind of quiet desperation that evokes a long night of bad thoughts and cigarette smoke. The way he stretches his vocals across the mix feels almost ghostlike, as if he’s dissolving into the sound. It’s moments like this where TEENAGEANGST transcends its fiery attitude to show its depth—the bruised emotions that come after the rebellion fades.
The EP’s midpoint, “Snow California,” brings a dreamlike haze to the project. It’s the sound of BruceBAn$hee letting his emo influences fully surface. The guitars glide and shimmer, his vocals float beneath a soft layer of distortion, and the beat unfolds with a woozy calm. The title itself feels ironic—snow in California, an image that shouldn’t exist, much like the contradictions he wrestles with in his music. It’s a standout moment of vulnerability, the kind that sneaks up between bouts of chaos. You sense a kid who’s worn out from the noise but too proud to admit it, so he sings instead.
“FML (Blunts & Gold)” returns to a more grounded, grungy groove, laying down a smoky rhythm section that channels early-2000s alternative rock. The track oozes late-night reflection—part confessional, part anthem. BruceBAn$hee’s lyrics tread the line between bravado and exhaustion; one moment he’s flexing, the next he’s admitting defeat. The balance of cool detachment and quiet despair makes this track one of the most human moments on TEENAGEANGST. It’s also where his production skills shine the most—layered yet loose, structured but still breathing. It proves that even in his DIY ethos, BruceBAn$hee knows exactly what he’s doing.
Then comes “StrawBerry Blues,” perhaps the most accessible song on the record. It’s playful but tinged with melancholy, bursting with pop-tinged punk vitality. The hook hits instantly, the kind that lingers long after the song ends. Beneath the sugar-rush melody, though, lies a wistful undercurrent—an acknowledgement that growing up often means watching your innocence slip away. The song slows down in its final stretch, fading into a reflective coda that feels like a sigh after a long run. It’s a masterstroke of pacing, showing how BruceBAn$hee can turn what might seem like a simple track into something layered and lasting.
As the title might suggest, “KIDS!” feels like a manifesto of youthful defiance. Bright, buzzy guitars and splashy drums explode into an infectious anthem that celebrates recklessness and belonging. There’s a touch of The All-American Rejects in its big, melodic choruses, but the attitude is pure BruceBAn$hee—unfiltered and electrified. The track embodies the EP’s central spirit: the chaos of adolescence, not as a phase to outgrow but as an energy to embrace. Listening to “KIDS!” feels like being thrown back into that moment where the world seemed huge and uncontainable, when every night could be the start of something unforgettable.
Closing track “Without You” wraps up the EP on a surprisingly uplifting note. It’s still punk, still fast, but there’s a sense of clarity here—a catharsis earned through the emotional rollercoaster of the previous seven songs. The guitars shimmer with optimism, the drums hit with purpose, and BruceBAn$hee’s vocals soar above it all with a touch of vulnerability. It’s a love song of sorts, but one that never loses its grit. Rather than ending in rage or sorrow, TEENAGEANGST fades out on something closer to acceptance. After all the noise and self-doubt, BruceBAn$hee leaves us with the sense that maybe chaos isn’t something to escape, but to understand.
Across its 25-minute runtime, TEENAGEANGST captures the unfiltered spirit of youth in all its contradictions—reckless yet thoughtful, loud yet intimate, confident yet uncertain. BruceBAn$hee’s commitment to independence bleeds through every note, from the distorted basslines to the DIY artwork that visually mirrors the music’s rawness. What makes this project shine is its genre-blending experimentation and emotional honesty. It’s not an album that tries to be perfect, but tries to be real. And in a landscape often obsessed with polish and perfection, that raw authenticity hits like a jolt of electricity. BruceBAn$hee’s TEENAGEANGST isn’t just a title, but a declaration, a state of mind, and a reminder that the most vital music often comes from those willing to embrace their chaos and make it sing.
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