New music video from Bunnies

Coming out of the creative crucible of Western Massachusetts, Bunnies is a long-running collective that’s spent over two decades crafting a sound that feels at once alien and truly human. Their music exists in a world entirely of their own design; freeform, fuzzy and gloriously untethered to any one genre or style, always filtered through a lens of experimentation, spinning it into something hypnotic and strangely beautiful.

Formed by Jeremy Macomber-Dubs on guitar, Jack Science on synth, Matthew Newman on drums and Rebecca “Becca” Macomber-Dubs on bass and trumpet, Bunnies is less a traditional band and more a shared consciousness. Each member contributes their voices and Bunnies merges into a single creative organism that seems to breathe, twitch and shake in real time. Over the course of four studio albums, they’ve built a catalogue defined by curiosity, frequently leaping into new sonic areas, fusing art rock vibes with post punk grit, psychedelic sprawl and an experimental edge.

That energy resulted in their latest LP, Horror Spectrum, a record nearly five years in the making and perhaps their most ambitious thus dar. True to its title, it’s an eerie, kaleidoscopic journey through the darker corners of the human psyche that explores morality, depravity and modern life with intensity. Bunnies has always delighted in the strange and surreal, but Horror Spectrum ventures further, turning the mirror toward evil itself, both the systemic and the personal and daring listeners to stare back.

At the crux of this exploration lies “Homunculus,” one of the album’s most haunting and conceptually adventurous tracks; conceived long before reports surfaced of a real-life “homunculus,” a man found captive for over twenty years in Connecticut, the song now feels almost prophetic in its disturbing relevance. But for Bunnies, this is no coincidence, it’s a reflection of how modern life itself can feel like captivity, where moral corruption festers in plain sight and everyone plays a part, whether as victim, voyeur or accomplice.

Across six tense minutes, Bunnies constructs a soundscape that feels claustrophobic yet alive, part noise-rock, part post-punk, part abstract theatre. The track pulses with dark rock aesthetic, the band’s layering of jagged synths, lively percussion and theatrical vocals evoking a sense of technological dread. It’s unsettling by design, as if surveillance itself had a sound, resulting in an experience that’s as philosophical as it is visceral, a sonic interrogation of complicity in a culture built on consumption, spectacle and control.

Accompanying the track is a gripping visual directed by Piper Preston, a fellow visionary from the Western Mass scene which pairs surrealism and horror in equal measure. The band appears cloaked in face paint and shadow, performing amidst red-and-black backdrops that oscillate between ritual and revolt, presenting a disorienting barrage of collage-like edits, cryptic symbols, and cinematic tension that pushes the viewer into discomfort. It’s grotesque yet utterly magnetic, much like the music itself, impossible to look away from even as it crawls under your skin and after twenty years, Bunnies remains one of the few acts capable of reinventing themselves without losing their distinct musical identity.

Watch the music video for Homunculus below

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