CannaBusTeD
CannaBusTeD — writer at a worn desk in red glasses, lighthouse and harbor receding behind him
Musician · Writer · Storyteller · Truth Digger

a new album

My Fake Life

Twenty-three songs about the masks we wear, the rooms we leave, and the small honest sounds that escape anyway. Follow the thread. Find the truth. Write the next verse.

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My Fake Life album cover — two figures in a worn sepia-walled room
The Album

Every version of me, moving through the bruise.

My Fake Life is a record about being caught — by mirrors, by memory, by the quieter things that watch when no one is supposed to be watching. It moves between the accusation and the apology, the laugh and the wound, the easy way and the hard way, until the mask slips and what is left is the song.

Recorded between rooms. Mixed by candle. Mastered for the late hour.

Tracks
23
Artist
CannaBusTeD
Era
2026
Signal Routing

The Tracklist

listen close, the room is listening back

My Fake Life cover art
Track 01 / 23 — Now Playing

My Fake Life

CannaBusTeD · My Fake Life

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  1. My Fake Life
    Track 01
  2. Where I Fit
    Track 02
  3. Break The Silence
    Track 03
  4. I Would Never Say That
    Track 04
  5. Quiet The Cruel
    Track 05
  6. Everyone Is A Critic
    Track 06
  7. Artificial Insignificance
    Track 07
  8. Am I The Problem
    Track 08
  9. Every Version Of Me
    Track 09
  10. Everybody Has Nobody
    Track 10
  11. My Fake Life II
    Track 11
  12. The Hard Way
    Track 12
  13. Hold Them Loose
    Track 13
  14. The Easy Way
    Track 14
  15. Too Many Times
    Track 15
  16. When Memories Break Your Heart
    Track 16
  17. Self Respect
    Track 17
  18. I'm Only A Song
    Track 18
  19. Strange Little Things
    Track 19
  20. My Light
    Track 20
  21. Here's The Joke
    Track 21
  22. Thoughtism
    Track 22
  23. The Legacy
    Track 23
CannaBusTeD inside a signal room of dials, lanterns, typewriters and maps
The Bus is now boarding

Songs, stories, signals.

CannaBusTeD writes from the edge of a room nobody else bothered to turn the lamp on in. The songs arrive the way weather does — late, certain, smelling of where they have been.

He has spent most of his life noticing what passes for ordinary, and refusing to let it. The songs on My Fake Life were written across nights, journeys, kitchens and corridors — wherever a small honest sentence could be coaxed into staying still long enough to be sung.

The Bus is a way of travelling between them. It carries the signal. It boards anyone who is listening.

From The Margins

Words From The Album

“The song disappears into what it disturbed, and the disturbance keeps singing.”
— liner notes
“I write to make sense of the noise.”
— CannaBusTeD
“Not just songs. Stories. Signals. Connection.”
— studio wall