Not even Big Brother could pin down who's behind M·OG. A pair of iridescent glasses, a neon silhouette, the grain of a collapsing world, that's all that's ever surfaced. The mystery runs deep: initials hiding in plain sight? A wink to shapeshifting emojis? A nod to the Moog and its analog pads? Mogging as a way of life or a tie to LA gangs? No one knows, and M·OG won't confirm or deny anything of it.
What we do know: he's from Paris, the City of Light tilting further into the dark. He started music at eight, with the violin. Today he works alone, weaving guitar, bass, synth, saxophone, harmonica and vocals into the machine.
1984, his debut album, is a total project: sonic, visual, embodied. Inspired by Orwell's timeless dystopia, it transposes our world into a near future, drifting between nostalgia and modernity, blending intimate feeling with social critique.
M·OG sings the end of a world with a crooked smile. This isn't science fiction. It's the near future, and it's coming