Hermidgets — “Like moths”

There is a particular kind of romance that only dark synthpop still admits in public: the kind that asks to be chosen, used, and discarded, then calls the ash a sacrament. Hermidgets’ “Like moths” walks straight into that fire and keeps dancing.

The opening is all low-end gravity — a bass that feels like a room dimming — before the buzzing synths arrive with that wiry, almost eight-bit gleam Post-Punk caught so well. The baritone sits low and assured, Fad Gadget’s theatre in the electronics, a Brendan Perry weight in the throat, and somehow the whole thing still moves like a late-eighties floor filler you should not trust with your heart.

When the chorus lands on “She grants me a loaded gun,” the lyric stops pretending surrender is soft. Devotion here is an erasure ritual; the moths are not a metaphor so much as a destination. The clay-face video (Sagazan’s lineage, Tovey’s grotesque play) makes the disappearance literal, and it fits the song’s awful clarity.

This is literary dark pop wearing a club dress — album-preview heat for a third LP due early 2027, and one of the cleanest moth-to-flame singles of the season. 8.2/10 — stack it where Soft Menace meets the darker dancefloor.

The groove works. Bass hits first. Synths buzz. You can dance to it without reading the manifesto.

The baritone sells the doom. Short lines about praying for nothing and taking the loaded gun do the job. No filler metaphors. Good.

Where it slips: the second half mostly restates the first. Same fire. Same moth. Same invitation to be discarded. Strong single geometry. Thin development once the hook owns the room.

Video is striking. Song does not need the clay face to land, which is a compliment. 7.2/10. Credible darkwave-adjacent dance single. Replay the chorus. Skip the thesis paper.