BRANBAV ART

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.