“FEM.” by Me & Melancholy Is a Raw Journey Through Love, Loss and Identity

Some albums are easy to put into a mood. You listen to them when you’re happy, sad, angry, heartbroken whatever the case may be.

"FEM." the fifth album from Stockholm-based artist Peter Ehrling’s Me & Melancholy project, is harder to pin down. It can be bright and energetic one moment and dark and uncomfortable the next. Across synthpop, electronic music, post-punk, industrial beats and ambient sounds, Ehrling spends the album looking at love, loss, identity and what happens when other people’s opinions start becoming the way you see yourself.

“Dance With Me” is a pretty interesting way to begin. It is one of the album’s livelier tracks, with bright synths and a beat that almost makes you forget about everything else for a few minutes. But there is still a sense that the happiness is partly an escape.

"Sometimes you dance because you are having a great time, and sometimes you dance because you really, really do not want to think."

“Lost In You” brings the darker side of the album forward. The bass is heavier, the drums feel almost mechanical, and the song feels much more closed in. It looks at what happens when you become so attached to someone that you start losing your own sense of where you end and they begin. It is a familiar feeling, but Ehrling gives it enough space to feel uncomfortable rather than romanticising it.

“Broken Souls” slows things down emotionally. There is a tenderness in the way it looks at people hiding their pain, almost as if putting a tiny Band-Aid over something much bigger. “All Of You” turns inward, while “Reputation” looks at something we have all seen in one way or another: people deciding who you are and then treating their version of you as fact.

That idea becomes especially interesting because "FEM." keeps coming back to identity. Anger, openness, being different, being misunderstood these things can become labels very quickly. Once someone has decided what kind of person you are, it can be surprisingly difficult to convince them otherwise. Ehrling seems more interested in asking what happens when you stop trying to convince them. “Squidso” is probably one of the album’s strangest moments. It feels eerie and slightly unsettling, with low vocals and sounds that seem deliberately out of place. Then “The One I Am” comes in with a much stronger sense of defiance. It feels like someone finally saying, “This is who I am, and I’m not going to disappear just because you don’t understand me.”

The album continues moving between these extremes. “All Love Is Gone” sits with the aftermath of a relationship ending, while “Just Like The Sun” brings in something softer and warmer. Then there is “No Permission,” which is almost impossible to miss because of its directness. You do not need permission to speak, dream, write, or love. It is a simple idea, but sometimes simple is exactly what you need to hear. By the time “Ghosts In The Mirror” arrives, the album turns completely back towards the self. There is memory, regret, and a feeling of looking at everything that cannot be changed.

Knowing that the album is dedicated to Ehrling’s father, who died in 2026, also changes the way some of these songs land. The darker moments feel heavier, but Ehrling never tries to turn the album into a straightforward grief record. Instead, grief becomes one part of a much bigger picture. Love, anger, confusion, loneliness, and even moments of joy can all sit next to each other.

FEM is probably best suited to listeners who like their electronic and synth-driven music with a little more going on underneath. Put it on during a late-night walk, a long drive, or when you are alone with your thoughts and do not mind the music asking a few questions back. It is not always an easy listen, but it is an honest one. Sometimes an album doesn't need to tell you how to feel. It can just sit with you while you figure it out.