The lyrics came quickly—10, maybe 15 minutes tops. Ben Denny Mo already had a guitar riff in mind. The idea wasn’t planned. It just arrived.

“Gozo definitely shaped the song,” he said. “The island moves from having a very hot summer feel to winter, which is much colder and wetter, very quickly. It’s not like the UK where you have more of a slow progression through the seasons. I likened this to falling in love with someone you meet over the summer months, only for them to suddenly depart back home when September comes.”

His new single, “September,” captures that end-of-summer ache with warmth and clarity. It’s groove-led and gently melancholic, with the soft pulse of folk, soul and storytelling. For Denny Mo, who is based on the Maltese island of Gozo, it’s less a breakup anthem than a memory folded into melody.

“There is reference in the song to past memories of life growing up on the island. It has always held happy memories for me,” he said. “We were always an outdoor family and even now, I like to start the day swimming in the sea.”

That sense of rhythm—of mornings in the water and songs shaped by environment—runs through all of Denny Mo’s music. His upcoming EP, The Norfkl Tapes, is no exception. The project is more than a snapshot of his recent songwriting. It’s a personal archive. One that revisits his childhood, confronts his experience with dyslexia and explores the relationships that have shaped him.

“As a child, dyslexia was not recognised by my school, so I would be sent off to the library, rather than be allowed to join in lessons,” he said. “Discovering the guitar and singing was a break-out moment for me. I found that I could play the guitar pretty well, and singing words was a lot easier than having to read and write them.”

That challenge transformed into a skill. Songwriting became not just a creative outlet, but a different kind of literacy. One that made sense.

“I am more of a visual person, so I see ideas for songs as a story being played out in a movie, rather than being written down on a page,” he said. “This can make the lyrics quite deep and cryptic at times.”

He cites the track “Purple Face” as an example, where the color represents envy. His writing often begins with a riff, not a lyric. The emotion comes from the music first. That process, paired with his unique guitar style, creates a sound that feels distinct—personal, but accessible.

Denny Mo is known for his unconventional “2 capo” technique. It started by chance, after he found a small capo at a festival.

“Up until then, I had usually tuned in DADGAD, but realised by applying the smaller capo, it meant I could alter independently tuning on one or two strings,” he said. “It gave me greater creative control on the acoustic guitar. I later saw Ben Howard using 2 capos and realised I was not unique.”

These days, he sometimes plays with three capos. It lets him shift tunings without losing momentum, especially during live shows.

And there have been many. Denny Mo has played Glastonbury and Cambridge Folk Festival, as well as Secret Garden Party. He’s earned airplay from BBC 6 Music and shared stages with emerging and established artists. But at heart, he’s still grounded in island life.

“Gozo is surprisingly lively, especially in the summer where it bursts into life,” he said. “Since being back on Gozo, I have formed a band called Barefoot Lions. Its music is reggae based, and we are possibly the main reggae band on the island at the moment.”

The group has been playing at bars, restaurants and summer festivals, building a profile within the local music scene. Still, Gozo slows down in winter. That contrast—between the stage and the stillness—is something Denny Mo has learned to navigate.

“The best time to escape everything in summer is probably after midnight when the temperature has dropped and paying a visit to the coastline,” he said.

He also finds grounding in the kitchen. Outside of music, Denny Mo works as a chef, another discipline that blends routine with creativity.

“I’ve been asking myself this question for a long time,” he said, when asked if songwriting and cooking overlap. “Food can be art. The creation of a new dish or idea is similar to songwriting. Working in a kitchen is very hot and sweaty, a bit like performing under burning lights in a venue with no air conditioning.”

Denny Mo’s lyrics are often built around observation. Not every song begins with a feeling. Sometimes it’s a person. A moment. A stranger in a pub. One track, “What a Banana,” was written about someone he knows who’s done “crazy things.” The subject’s mother likes it, he said.

Another song, “Silver Plane,” was inspired by people wasting time in bars and losing money on slot machines. He doesn’t romanticize the subject matter. He just records what he sees.

“I’d say most of my songs are based on observations or personal experiences, usually relationships,” he said.

That honesty extends to collaborations. On The Norfkl Tapes, Denny Mo worked with Rhys Downing, a producer who has handled projects with artists like Mark Ronson. The experience was rigorous.

“Rhys would have in his head how a line could be sung, and we would often do multiple takes to achieve this,” he said. “Probably more traditional style of producing.”

Downing also brought in session musicians, layering arrangements with strings and brass. Every part was charted. Every line, measured.

“It’s a great experience, but also hard work having to do so many takes,” Denny Mo said. “You really have to think hard about how you are going to sing each line in the song.”

He also records with producer Jack Murphy. That process is more fluid. Just the two of them. Faster, looser, with fewer rules.

“I love both approaches,” he said.

Musically, Denny Mo draws comparisons to John Martyn and Jonah Kagen, though his earliest influence was John Butler. He recalls watching Butler perform “Ocean” and mimicking his nail style for fingerpicking.

Later came Martyn, who introduced him to songwriting through guitar. He also credits Bon Iver for inspiring “You and I,” a breakup song that’s difficult for him to perform even now.

“When I first sung ‘You and I,’ having written it after a difficult break-up, it was pretty emotional playing it,” he said. “Some of the songs I have written that bring out raw emotion when singing are those based on wider observations.”

One of those is “Burn,” which deals with environmental destruction. Another is “Love Song for Aleppo,” about war and displacement. These aren’t protest songs, exactly. They’re reflections. Denny Mo doesn’t try to solve anything. He just names what he sees.

Looking ahead to the full release of The Norfkl Tapes, he hopes people take away something simple, but real.

“Hopefully, listeners will resonate with that feeling of love and loss, and being able to come out the other side with a sense of hope,” he said. “Most of the songs are like seasons in my life, going through stages of heartache and pain, but also discovering what makes me happy.”

“September” is the first glimpse of that season shift. There’s longing in the song, but also light. The summer doesn’t last. But sometimes, if you catch it just right, it leaves a melody behind.