The road to Ruff Majik’s new album Moth Eater has been full of ups and downs. The band were dubbed a cult and kicked off social media during their promotion, yet they still managed to spark nostalgia amongst fans, pulling on our heart strings in true Ruff Majik fashion.
Now, Moth Eater sees the band give of themselves unlike ever before, and the result is brilliantly compelling.
It goes without saying that concept albums are nothing new, but they’re a rarity locally. That Ruff Majik have released three in succession is impressive. “We’re a lot more organised than people think,” Johni jokes. “For Moth Eater, we had a clear vision of the sound we wanted, making our collaboration feel both organic and effortless.”
The project completes a trilogy that began with 2020’s The Devil’s Cattle (symbolising life) and 2023’s Elektrik Ram (symbolising death), with Moth Eater exploring rebirth. When asked about the album’s theme, Johni quips, “We f*cked around, found out, and now we’re learning from it.”
Written, recorded and produced by the band themselves, Moth Eater remains true to Ruff Majik’s core stoner-rock sound, whilst also pushing into new territory, showcasing their immense versatility.
Opener “What A Time to Be a Knife” is a scathing declaration of non-conformity. Featuring Reegan du Buisson (of Facing The Gallows), the track pulses with the “righteous rage” characteristic of his band’s sound, fuelling a slightly heavier side than we’re used to from Ruff Majik (if you can even imagine that).
“Dirt and Deer Blood” and “Baby’s First Guillotine” both dive into the band’s garage- stoner roots, with voice note samples and tones of midwest-emo adding a distinctly intricate layer to these tracks. It’s all in the detail for Ruff Majik, and there’s a method to their madness.
Between tales of tour misadventure and social critique on “Cult Eyes”, Johni’s confidence only heightens, expressing himself “warts and all“.
“Ingozi” featuring Lefokolodi vocalist Lerato blends jazz-rock with tribal influences to reflect on the warding off of daily dangers. “Ingozi, I know it’s trying to get me” Johni laments, and it’s undeniably visceral.
“Wasted Youth” is arguably the strongest track off the record—a swan song for the difficult turbulence of youth, showcasing the best of what the band has to offer.
As a child, Johni swallowed a moth and survived. Much like then, he has endured the things that tried to consume him. “I found my peace—well, almost. I feel I spoke too soon,” he croons, bidding farewell to his demons while acknowledging that the journey isn’t over.
With an experimental approach akin to Mars Volta, Ruff Majik are unashamedly vulnerable on Moth Eater, such that it feels like we’re meeting them for the first time. The inclusion of Johni’s literal blood on the album cover—a result of a wicked paper cut during its creation—proves that Moth Eater is not just an album; it’s a personal invitation to witness the most intimate parts of Ruff Majik. It’s evolution.
