New Rock Single “Fucked Up Trance” Captures the Night the Good Time Curdled

Some nights don’t go the way you plan. Some nights go sideways in ways that become the story you tell for years. “Fucked Up Trance” is one of those stories.

It started in Paris. Underground club. Grotto-style walls, dim light, the kind of place that feels like it exists outside of time. I was running on jet lag and bad French and the specific reckless energy that comes from being alone in a foreign city at 3am. I was having a genuinely good time, attempting conversation, attempting charm, attempting to connect with a woman from Sweden who seemed amused by my effort.

Then someone else entered the frame. A drunk woman who had decided, for her own reasons, that I was the focus of her evening. She wasn’t leaving. The good time curdled. The night ended differently than it started.

You know this feeling. Maybe you’ve been on the receiving end. Maybe, if you’re being honest, you’ve been the one who didn’t read the room. Most of us have been both at some point. That’s the uncomfortable truth sitting at the center of this song. It doesn’t point fingers without first turning inward.

“Fucked Up Trance” isn’t a bitter song. It’s a song about the friction of being human in public. About desire and bad timing and the small ways a night can fall apart. It has weight, but it doesn’t take itself too seriously. The music holds both things, the wildness of the night and the clarity you find in the morning after.

That tension is what makes it feel real.

There’s something else happening right now that’s worth knowing about, because it’s directly about you.

For the last year, while the music was releasing week after week, something else was being built underneath all of it. A way to actually stay connected, not through an algorithm that decides whether you see this post, not through a platform that could disappear or change the rules tomorrow, but directly. Your email. Your streaming preferences. And soon, if you want, your phone.

The weekly releases weren’t just about momentum. They were a stress test. A way to make sure the whole system actually worked before I told anyone it existed.

It works.

What that means practically: when I start booking shows, the cities won’t be guessed. They’ll be shaped by where you are and what you’ve requested. Tools like BandsInTown are now connected to the fan list, which means your voice has a direct line into where this music shows up live.

That’s not a small thing. Most independent artists are still waiting for someone to hand them that map. This one is being drawn from the ground up, by the people who are actually listening.

There’s something more personal underneath all of this that I want to say plainly.

I burned out. I stepped back from social media years ago not because I was strategic about it, but because I lost the thread. Lost the desire. Lost, honestly, a part of myself I didn’t know how to get back.

The process of rebuilding all of this, the infrastructure, the releases, the connections, ended up being about more than music. Somewhere in the middle of putting it all back together, I found my way back to myself. The creative instinct didn’t just return. It came back sharper.

Around March 1st, the social side of this starts back up in full. New content. Regular presence. The version of this that I always meant it to be.

“Fucked Up Trance” lands in the middle of all of that. A song about a night that went wrong, releasing at a moment when everything is finally starting to go right.

Here’s to bad nights that make good stories. To learning when to walk away. To still being here, still wanting it, still showing up.