Digital Pollution by Bruxism

Digital Pollution is the residue of years of work, the grind crystallized, the fragments that survived the purge. Tracks born, tracks erased, echoes of everything that didn’t stick. Sharp. Fractured. Persistent. Noise pressed into form. Something coherent, if coherence is a lie you choose to believe.

What emerged was never one album, but two gestating forms. One punk, raw and serrated, teeth bared to the sky; one rap, fluid, fractured, a pulse looping through circuits of thought.

The vision, unstable and electric, suddenly became for us the violent algebra of collision: two sonic organisms smashed together, fused, fractured, reborn. This is not a merger, not a compromise, it is experiment, collision, entropy harnessed, a cross-species mutation of noise and rhythm. Punk bleeds into rap, rap gnaws at punk, everything oscillating, folding, snapping back on itself, a feedback loop of aggression, cadence, and pulse. The album is the experiment made manifest, a collision zone you inhabit, ride, survive.

The end result? It’s a Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater soundtrack compressed into one album. Energy ricochets, corners clipped, rails smashed, crashes into walls of sound, collisions of adrenaline and distortion. Unpredictable, alive, chaotic but curated, somehow. You ride it. It rides you.

The architecture is ritualistic. It begins in rap, erupts into rock, then spirals everywhere in between, oscillating, fracturing, bending, folding back on itself. Sub-songs sample one another, trap metal siphoning the pulse of hardcore punk, bending it, twisting it, rebirthing it. Punk collides with metal, hip-hop stretches beyond its limbs, everything bleeding into everything else. A spectrum, a feedback loop, a glitch in continuity that refuses to settle.

Digital Pollution comes straight from the crippled mind of Bruxism, who shapes the lyrics, sculpts the production, orchestrates the chaos of everything else, and SK3RED, whose crushing guitar riffs and ferocious bass lines carve structure from noise, pulse through distortion, and give the chaos a spine. The music surges and fractures, bending punk aggression into new forms, threading a needle of raw voltage through the sonic whirlwind.

Bruxism’s lyrics gnaw at decay, map the brain rot, and fold political unease into rhythm and rhyme, guiding the listener through the hollow, recycled landscapes of the digital wasteland. The distorted rhythms combined with the high speed vocals coforges a feedback loop of sound and thought, chaos and structure, pulse and decay, an organism that is only one thing. Digital Pollution.

Digital Pollution swims through the cesspool. It's not afraid to get dirty. Observe the ever present culture-war through the hollow, recycled landscape of the Internet. Every post, every meme, every echo of thought devoured and reborn hollow. Beneath it, unrest simmers. not a rallying cry, but a reflection of systems crumbling while you scroll, the undertones pulsing between nihilism and faint resistance. The decay is tangible. You ride it. You feel it. But now, as you listen to what we have created, you will come to understand.

Digital Pollution exists online now. Noise, clarity, fragments, collisions, pulses, loops. Immerse. Let it grind. Let it linger. Let it gnaw at the edges of your mind.

Bruxism grinds teeth into sound. half post-punk half experimental trap, Bruxism cooks Distorted bass, jagged beats and raw lyricism that make you want to bang your head against a wall repeatedly to forget what you heard. Bruxism is here to build bruised hymns for sleepless nights. It’s noise, it’s rhythm. it’s civil disobedience turned violent, the result of a failed system. Listen to it die.