When My Life as A Moth forced herself to sit down at her piano in her pajamas, determined to create in defiance of a global pandemic that narrowed her world to four walls, as she rested her fingers on the keys, she discovered a dead moth. “I looked at it,” the Swedish singer-songwriter says, “and I realised I felt quite the same.” When the only place she could mine inspiration from was the confines of her East London apartment, the dead moth wasn’t swept away, but became an unlikely muse. It was then that she began – and became – My Life as A Moth. Her approach to music has an almost child-like quality, delving into the possibility of sound. Bringing not only trumpets, the harp – which she plays casually – violins, cellos, and a range of percussion, she also explored recording the sounds of stomping feet, the crunch of gravel, and the sounds of the natural world around her.
Since then, My Life As A Moth has released a string of singles, crafting an intricate sound that can’t be taken away from her, like eerie grooves of 2025’s “Hyenas” or the psych-pop undertones of 2024’s “Heated Heart.” 2026, though, is proving to be the year of the Moth with the release of her second single of the year, the hauntingly beautiful and nuanced “Maybe.” The jittery, awkward yet inviting new tune effectively showcases the artist’s individuality, wrapped in a pulsating post-punk performance. The industrial-style arrangement leans toward the side of simplicity, using the neon-tinted beeps to push the immersive percussion forward, creating a rather ambient performance that never loses My Life As A Moth’s signature attitude. Despite the simplicity that flows through “Maybe,” the artist manages to pack a world of emotions into this song, navigating the off-kilter arrangement to deliver an emotionally palpable performance. 2026 is just getting started for My Life As A Moth, and “Maybe” is hinting at a creative renaissance for the young project.
