Million Moths’ “Inner Piece” is a profound work of dark art-pop catharsis

Metamorphosis is at the heart of von Trapp’s Million Moths project. Every song is sonically expansive, a collision of acoustic instruments and experimental electronics, with nods to Eartheater and FKA Twigs. Her wisplike vocals vulnerably convey rage, desire, and deep love. Early in spun’s tracklist is the emotionally bare “Inner Piece”, evocative of EMA’s intimate lo-fi folk. “It’s a little pun with inner peace missing, that inner piece,” von Trapp explains. “It ties into a lot of formative trauma and not having been allowed to feel feelings growing up in certain ways. I’ve done a lot of good work on fixing that, but I don’t know what it’s like not to be yearning for something.” Its lyrics, which “subconsciously fell out”, made sense to her after finishing the album. Written in 2022 as its first demo, self-described as a “Frankenstein of old ideas”, it lightly readied von Trapp to begin constructing the transformative Million Moths.

This time, von Trapp gave herself unequivocal freedom. She has made music for over a decade, but Million Moths is the first project made entirely on her own. She previously wrote sparkly synth-pop as Jane Machine with her ex, whom she met in Paris, auditioning to be his singer without knowing how to produce music. While she’s quick to disown that material, calling it “so heartbroken”, she’s grateful that it spurred her love for the studio. “While the music isn’t the same, I did get so comfortable in the DAW,” von Trapp says. “It also showed me what I didn’t want to do.”

During her musical journey, von Trapp honed her musicality in Paris, Los Angeles, the Joshua Tree desert, and now in her own Portland studio, Sapphire Jaguar. Her move to Portland in 2020 was fraught with a dilemma, too: “It’s a rainy place, and people are really introverted here, which I relate to, but it was really fucking hard to meet people during a pandemic.” Also, as a Los Angeles native, the city’s “performative nature” left scars: “It’s my trauma place, so it’s just toxic for me.” Being in solitude meant von Trapp could rediscover herself and take the time she needed before releasing anything. So, it was years before anyone, even her lovely partner today, heard anything connected to Million Moths. “When you travel, there’s this anonymity which allows you to explore different versions of yourself,” she says. “I could explore that here because I was also alone, and I didn’t want to make that synth-pop stuff anymore. It was depressing me.”

Broken free from her past creative limitations, von Trapp dismissed accessibility and unearthed a palette that spoke to her. The moth motif came while visiting Joshua Tree with her partner, witnessing a swarm of a million moths covering a super-bloom of yellow flowers at sunset. That insect’s duality of dark and light deeply resonated. “They represent two things: They’re viewed as an infestation or shadow in the Jungian sense, like the darkness you don’t really want. I’ve been through a lot of trauma, and I draw from that whether or not I want to for my music,” von Trapp eagerly explains with a laugh. “But moths are also fascinating, and they’re gorgeous. The colours, people are weirdly obsessed with them. They have to go through a metamorphosis to exist. As an adult, I was a late bloomer, and I can relate to that.”

Her metamorphosis even surprised her – lead single “Ride or Die” is a diss track aimed at an ex-friend who had no respect for her boundaries. She first wrote its demonic, perturbing synth beat in 2023 or 2024, but von Trapp fervently laid down the lyrics all at once after the friendship split happened. “After making ‘Ride or Die’, it became the architecture of the rest of the record,” she recalls. Interestingly, that anger she poured into the song is foreign to her. “I’m not that kind of person,” von Trapp admits. “It’s not like I’m seeking out those things, but it’s like, ‘Okay, well, I’m processing it,’ and it’s amazing what can happen from that sometimes. Isn’t that an incredible experience?”

Also of note is von Trapp’s daily practice as a stylist. She didn’t expect improving that skill to enhance her broad musicianship at all. She fully harnessed that multifaceted nature in the “Ride or Die” music video, completely taking on the styling, directing, and editing. “Practising that attention to detail, the big overarching concept, does trickle down into the tiniest little details of colour in sound, or in what we’re wearing.” She particularly praises mary in the junkyard, whose latest album, “from an aesthetic standpoint, feels so authentic. I admire artists who do that; it helps guide a light.”

The key takeaway of von Trapp’s growth into Million Moths is that it’s been incredibly healing. “And fun,” she adds. “Sadness can be enjoyable, and that’s kind of a fucked up thing, but it’s true. Not trying to play the tiny violin and wallow, but there’s something cathartic about that, and catharsis does feel good.” It’s fulfilling to be spiritually true to yourself, and von Trapp’s story, with all its turmoil, attests to the resilience needed to get there. Hers is nothing short of inspiring.