
From making snow angels in Malda to lighting up Live At Leeds: In The City, Moonchild Sanelly is leaving her mark wherever she lands.

From making snow angels in Malda to lighting up Live At Leeds: In The City, Moonchild Sanelly is leaving her mark wherever she lands.

From making snow angels in Malda to lighting up Live At Leeds: In The City, Moonchild Sanelly is leaving her mark wherever she lands.
Words: Stephen Ackroyd.
Photos: Grace Pickering, ChantelleKP.
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In a snow-dusted corner of Malda, Moonchild Sanelly is sat in her PJs, contemplating making snow angels and casually plotting a musical revolution. It's a perfectly on-brand setting for an artist who's turned artistic defiance into a specialist subject – imagine Grace Jones gate-crashing a parliament session or Madonna deciding to become a quantum physicist just for the giggles. Her third album, 'Full Moon' (out 10th January via Transgressive) feels like a coup d'état orchestrated by someone who learned military strategy from disco balls.

Between snowy adventures, she's reflecting on a year that's seen her trajectory shift from steady ascent to sudden supernova. Festival crowds aren't just getting bigger – they're getting broader. "My highlight this year has been seeing grandparents and their children follow me in festivals and singing along to the songs that are not out in the album yet," she says. "That is super trippy; it's been super wild and humbling."
The impact of this cross-generational connection clearly means something special. "Watching the brand grow as well and seeing how the new music is also connecting with more people around the world. It feels next level to me." The reality of it all still seems to surprise her. "I've had moments where I'm looking at these people sing my songs, and I'm just like, I have the mic, but they all know the words; it's crazy."
It's not just a nice happenstance, though – it's what happens when an artist treats 'the rules' like outdated fashion trends, meant to be broken, reworked and smashed together with a sense of razor-sharp style. Her self-coined "future ghetto funk" isn't so much a genre as it is a declaration of independence, a musical philosophy that says conforming is for people who can't dance. "My storytelling is not limited to one genre," she explains, discussing 'Full Moon''s expansive sound palette. "In 'Full Moon', one thing we were definitely intentional about was having cohesion, hence why we got Johan Hugo to play around, but I can't even tell the difference because it's one body of work."