BRANBAV ART

I’m sure that’s the first questioned asked when I released the title for this new EP. I asked myself that same question.

Unfortunately, its happened more than once. Sometimes from laughter or joy, others from drama due to the soap opera I call my life. That’s the duality of the underground. There’s a beauty in that. The contrast of having the time of your life, to feeling everything crumble in the blink of an eye.

If you’ve been in Philly’s art/punk/rap/rave or art scene, more than likely you’ve had a drink or smoked with me. Basement shows. Raves in the forest. Anywhere with a stage, I was there. I’ve experienced everything possible in the scene from finding love and feeling invincible to SA from women I’ve trusted, and much more.

“I STILL CRY IN THE CLUB” explores my ego and vulnerability through night life. The dichotomy of being somewhere I enjoy and the things that trouble my real life still loom over me.

Side A:

-She Aint Real & De Rio-

A two part story revolving around misogyny and lust. Being present for one woman while her friend shows more interest. *Based On A True Story*

“She Aint Real” focuses on me knowing her friend is interested and using that to “inspire” the woman I’m really here for. Diminishing the fact that she invited me and that we have an actual relationship with each other. Dealing with the mental gymnastics of condescending demoralization and ego driven nonsense is a state of mind I'm more comfortable with than I'd care to admit. 

“De Rio” speaks on the aftermath. Her thinking that me seeing her with another man will get me to feel the same hurt she has. All it does is put us in a stalemate in a game of toxicity. A part of why this project has this title, is because of the countless drunken nights yelling and being yelled at by beautiful women. I never felt proud even if I won the argument, and the feelings of those memories weighed heavier than any victory.

Side B:

-Interlude & A Crime-

The second half of this project delves deeper into my insecurities and vulnerability. “Interlude” specifically, is me taking a break away too be sad in a corner. Remembering the feelings of fragility, fear, and more than anything guilt. Guilty of not being able to to confront uncomfortable situations. A coward. Until writing this, I never realized what I was really embodying. But it’s how I justify my vices and behaviors. Un-ironically, I was drowning my guilty conscience. Trying to silence my moral compass and dim the lights of judgement I personally choose to stand under.

It's been 4 years since the release of my last album, Nights In the City 2. To this day, I still love that project. As a concept, it captured who I was and where I was in life in a way that I didn't think I was capable of. It was honest. Fun. Toxic. Arrogant. What else could you ask for from a Branbav album?

I don't know anymore.

As I put in the last blog post, life has been kicking my ass. In ways I never thought I'd experience. But I never stopped working.

I've been sitting on this project for a couple of years now. I was hesitant with my work. I felt myself crumbling under the weight of pressures I’d never heard. No one told me “Bran! You gotta drop now!”. There was no “We need something new from you!”.

It was all in my head. I told myself I had to keep up the momentum and rushed into projects that didn't fit my vision. Why? To be seen by people who aren't checking for me? Fucking ridiculous. I know the eyes will open when the timing is right. But that doesn't mean I have to sit and wait.

I'm proud to announce my next project “I Still Cry In The Club”.  This will be a 4 track EP that is a departure from previous sounds you might have heard from me before. Each song is different in sound and feel, but they're all cut from the same cloth. Detailing a story that I'm proud to display, a short, cohesive collection of songs I wrote during heartbreak, depression, and a young life crisis.

PS. You know this means the shows are officially coming back right? I'll have announcements on that soon..

It’s been a long time since I released a complete project—March 15, 2021, to be exact. That date feels like a lifetime ago, back when I still felt connected to my true self before the world started demanding I be an exaggerated version of who I thought I "should" be. Since then, I’ve stumbled. I’ve faced curveballs that made me feel lost, and more times than I care to admit, I’ve wrestled with feelings of worthlessness.

The only thing that ever offered me real solace was art. But for a while, even that became complicated. I retreated into a fragile universe ruled by my own ego, losing myself in stories I hadn't yet lived, feeling envious of techniques I hadn't mastered, and constantly measuring my worth against others. I was chasing validation, pushing out work just to meet a deadline, forgetting that art isn’t a race—it’s a conversation.

During this absence, I’ve spent countless, restless hours reflecting. I’ve picked apart my identity, my fears, and my place in this world. And in all that silence, I realized something vital: I don’t want to just "be an artist" anymore. I want to build a space where we can actually connect.

This is why I’ve been gone. I haven't just been hiding; I’ve been on a quest to remember how to believe in myself so that I could offer you something real.

I am finally ready to share what I’ve been holding onto. My new project, I Still Cry In The Club, is the culmination of these last four years—the heartaches, the failures, the lessons, and the quiet moments of inspiration. It is my most authentic work to date, and it was born out of a simple, grounding realization: I don’t want to create in a vacuum anymore. I want to create to bring us together.

Art has always been my language, but for too long, I let my own inconsistency hold me back from sharing it properly. I’m done with that cycle. I want I Still Cry In The Club to be a place where you feel seen, where you feel invited, and where we can celebrate the messy, beautiful reality of being human together.

This isn't just a release; it’s an invitation. In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing more about the project, the stories behind the tracks, and the live shows I’m planning. I’m also committed to using this moment to shine a light on the incredible talent I’ve encountered in our scene. If you’re a creator, keep an eye out—I’m opening up ways for us to collaborate, share space, and grow together.

Though I’ve been away, this return is for keeps. Thank you for staying by my side while I found my way back to the music, and thank you for being the reason I keep creating.

Let’s bridge the gap. I’ll see you there.