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Maryam Qudus, under the name Spacemoth, follows the hook-forward "Do We Exist?" with "Internet Fantasy": a krautrock-leaning drone that pairs soothing melody with abrasive textures, probing digital distraction and attention in a more meditative register.

When “Do We Exist?” arrived earlier this year it felt like a door opening: brisk, funky, concise, the kind of single that announces an artist is thinking in hooks and angles. Today Maryam Qudus — recording as Spacemoth out of Oakland — pushed through that door and into someplace noisier. The new single “Internet Fantasy” is the second advance from her forthcoming LP Inward Eye, and it deliberately trades the first single’s pep for a slow, droning insistence.
Where “Do We Exist?” moved like a conversation, “Internet Fantasy” stretches like a thought. The track settles into a krautrock pulse: repetitive, motorik-leaning rhythms under a bed of shimmering noise that recalls Kraftwerk’s rigidity and Cluster’s more amorphous textures. Qudus’s vocal sits on top in a surprisingly calm register — a quiet melody that softens the mechanical undercurrent, as if trying to stay lucid while the machinery whirrs around her.
There’s a thematic clarity to the production choice. The lyrics and the presentation circle a familiar contemporary anxiety: attention tugged outward by screens, presence eroded by constant connectivity. The music amplifies that sensation rather than resolving it. Guitar textures fray into feedback; synth tones flatten into long, neighborly drones. It feels intentionally stuck in the middle — not an escape into analog nostalgia, nor an embrace of clean digital polish. That tension is the song’s point.
Jordan Macapagal directed the video for “Internet Fantasy.” Instead of unfolding like a narrative, the visuals accentuate the song’s push-and-pull: recurring shots of instruments and amplifiers, shifts between tight close-ups and more oblique, almost clinical frames, and edits that let distortion bloom before snapping back to the human face at the center. The director doesn’t clarify the song so much as underline its sensory architecture — noise and calm in alternation.
For Qudus this pair of singles functions as a kind of resume: one track shows her capacity for immediacy and melody, the other her willingness to inhabit longer grooves and atmospheres. That range matters in 2026’s fragmented music landscape, where a single sonic identity can be both an asset and a limitation. Releasing this on Greenway and sequencing these two songs as pre-release statements suggests she wants listeners to know she isn’t settling into a single lane.
Inward Eye arrives 6/26. Whether the full record will reconcile the poles of Qudus’s songwriting or keep them in deliberate friction remains to be heard. For now these singles feel like two acts from the same mind: one that remembers pop craft, and another that is willing to let discomfort and static be part of the story.