Where garage punk meets emotional fallout.

Bones Shredder, the solo venture of multi-instrumentalist Randy Moore, crashes onto the scene with Morbid Little Thing, a debut that marries garage-punk grit with a surprising emotional intelligence. Fueled by grunge textures, pop-punk melodies and the kind of early 2000s angst that feels both nostalgic and newly relevant, this record is as much about catharsis as it is about craftsmanship. Moore handles vocals, guitar and bass himself, joined by Dylan Moore on drums and a handful of guest musicians on keys. The result is a tightly-wound exploration of self-doubt, heartbreak and identity, delivered with hook-heavy energy and lo-fi charm.

Moore’s influences are easy to spot: early Green Day, the moodier corners of Weezer, the emotional grit of The Get Up Kids and even the detached cool of The Strokes. But he filters these through his own lens, adding just enough personal texture to avoid sounding derivative. The album never feels like cosplay — it feels like confession.

Ahead of the album’s release, standout singles like “Daylight,” “Pulling Teeth,” and “Sky is Falling” offered a preview of the record’s mix of melodic clarity and raw vulnerability. But it’s in the full tracklist where Moore’s songwriting fully blooms.

From the opening notes of “There You Are,” Moore sets the tone: distorted guitars swirl around melodies that lean pop without going soft, while his vocals offer a calm, almost soothing counterpoint to the chaos. It’s grunge filtered through a pop-punk lens but delivered with the restraint of someone who’s felt the edge and stepped back. There’s no snarl, just a voice that sounds like it’s been thinking too much.

Then comes “Who Cares,” a slow-burn acoustic track that quietly steals the spotlight. With flashes of Latin-influenced guitar and the kind of weary introspection you’d expect from a songwriter twice his age, it’s a subtle standout. Moore turns apathy into a question rather than a statement, and the result feels less like giving up and more like coming to terms with the void.

By the time “Stay Away” hits, Moore is in full punk mode. The track rips through its runtime with driving chords and a sense of urgency straight out of the American Idiot playbook. But where that album was bombastic and theatrical, this is grounded and personal. The lyrics—“I should have stayed away… how could I?”— reveal a cycle of emotional return that feels as much about personal failure as it does about toxic relationships.

Musically, Morbid Little Thing walks a fine line between garage rock spontaneity and pop-punk polish. Lyrically, the album circles around themes of disconnection, longing and inner fragmentation. While the band name Bones Shredder hints at horror imagery, the real horror here is emotional — pulling yourself apart to understand what’s broken and what might still be worth salvaging.

Morbid Little Thing is a strikingly self-assured debut from an artist who clearly understands both the genre he’s playing in and the emotions he’s trying to excavate. Randy Moore, as Bones Shredder, proves that you don’t need a massive production budget or a full band to make something powerful — you just need a clear voice, a few great hooks and the guts to be honest.

Whether you grew up on burned CDs and basement shows, or you’re just discovering the emotional range of punk, Morbid Little Thing is worth your time. It hits hard, but it hits real — and that’s something a lot of debuts can’t claim.