Rewrite and translate this title Wonderland Meets: Babymorocco to Japanese between 50 and 60 characters. Do not include any introductory or extra text; return only the title in Japanese.

“My computer just fucking smashed,” Babymorocco, England’s chaotic party boy extraordinaire, exclaims over our Zoom call. Just moments earlier, the musician had connected on his iMac before disappearing. Following a minute’s pause, he returns through the loud speaker of his iPhone. “I pulled my screen forward, and then the whole computer just flew off the desk, and now it’s not turning on anymore”, he says laughing. I express my concerns–but he’s calm, collected and, just like his songs, positively oozing charisma. “It’s fine, it’s such a shit computer anyway. I need to get a new one but I’m just hoping I’ll leave it for 20 minutes and it will repair itself.” Could this be the same piece of technology that propelled his internet fame? Casablanca, Morocco–born Clayton Pettet could be found posing erotically for self-portraits, under the Babymorocco name, on 2016 Tumblr. Those around for the advent of his now–signature moniker perhaps couldn’t predict his rise to sun–and–sex pop stardom.

Pettet grew up in the coastal suburb of Boscombe, Bournemouth, navigating donk ragers and Mákina club nights in his preteen years. These formative influences, together with a general appreciation of 2000’s and 2010’s electro–Space Cowboy to Larry Tee–instilled a lease of life that would later translate into mid–COVID quarantine songwriting. A former Central Saint Martins student, one of Pettet’s earliest stints at performance art beheld the 2013 announcement of a project titled Art School Stole My Virginity. In the end there was no live sex, as a legion of media outlets anticipated. Instead, a defying reclamation of his own sexuality. “I don’t think I would do performance art again within that kind of context,” he recalls. “I really did like the concepts I was exploring then, but I think I was also trying to prove myself in a certain type of way as an art student.”

Following an initial string of moodier compositions, glitch synths and a boastful cadence would become trademark to the Babymorocco formulae–in large part due to the traction gained of his debut EP, 2023’s “The Sound”. Capturing a global appetite for island anthems and filthy beats, namely egotistical earworm “Everyone”, Babymorocco quickly attached himself to the playlists of young fans and hedonists alike–the majority of whom reside in America. His permeating electro reinventions –often fusing elements of hyperpop, nightcore and gabber–have yielded a Pop Crypt booking from PC Music’s A.G. Cook, UK and European tours with The Dare and Dorian Electra, and a feature set at Frost Children’s Brooklyn Frost Fest. “I’ve been to Magaluf so much, Ayia Napa. You know, weirdly I’ve never been to Zante, even though I have a song about it, but I would love to perform there,” he teases. “I just got back from LA, I think I’m really wired.”

It’s a wintry afternoon in London at the time of this call, contrary to the climate in the sunny City of Angels. Talk of across the pond activities imbues excitement: “I DJed which was cool. I filmed my music video for the next single with Charlotte Rutherford and it’s so sick. I’m actually doing, for the first time, choreo.” Referring to the raucous “Body Organic Disco Electronic” off his debut album Amour–out today–Babymorocco deconstructs a running theme in his latest video productions. For “Babestation”, the first single–“the girls are ripping me apart, taking my clothes off.” The second, call–and–response banger “Bikinis and Trackies”, features a cameo from iKeda–she’s actually signed to Babymorocco’s PhatBoy Records. “Eventually I would like to run my own label. PhatBoy is the groundwork and foundation of that, at the moment it’s kind of like a collective. We’ve been approached now by getting it maybe imprinted under this other label, so it can become a real thing”, he explains. Describing the concept for the video: “iKeda, wanting her profits from the songs, shoots me and runs me over with a car.” Finally, there’s “Body Organic Disco Electronic” which now covers all bases–“it’s the boys killing me.” It comes as no surprise to see a figure like Babymorocco, ever–so polarizing for his hyperbolic brand of self–absorption, attacked in all directions through a classic case of art imitating life. He’s able to chuckle when clarifying under the circumstances: “I feel like everyone is out to get me a little bit, and that’s not just paranoia. I do feel like I have a reputation of being a dickhead. I’m trying to give people a cathartic release by killing me through my music videos.”

Like Pettet, the subject of sexuality is integral to navigating Babymorocco territory–it’s as much a part of the image as the jargon, though controversial to some. “I’m obsessed with my fans, I love them. But I get as much vitriol as I get love. I can deal with all the personality shit, and it’s important to have that, but I want people to focus also on the music” he stresses. Indeed, it’s not uncommon to come across unapologetically raunchy lyrics about sweat and skinny jeans. How swaggy he is and how sexy he looks on the dancefloor in “Really Hot”, “SXC” or “Automatic”, for instance. Even on social media–“no one should watch porn, just watch me, I am sexy enough,” he brags in one tweet. Albeit, image does not manifest on our call.

“By the way, I would turn my camera on but I look like shit, so I can’t let you see me like this,” Babymorocco says over the speaker. It’s difficult to believe this. With a hypermasculine beefcake build straight out of Physique Pictorial, so prominent in Diesel’s XXXmas campaign, to imagine anything other than the tight tank, “trackie suit” and Converse–wearing profile we’re used to on cover art and promo shots is inconceivable. His Instagram, a curated elevation of his Tumblr days. Displays of half–naked muscle flexing and tongue swapping with girls and boys– the pièce de résistance of Amour’s creative rollout–are central to the playful aesthetic of Babymorocco. He is transparent about his sexuality, coming out and coming clean about the conversation of queerbaiting in a recent interview with Gay Times. And yet, the label continues to be thrown around. “People still were dragging me on Twitter. I’ve tried to make it more apparent, but if people aren’t getting it, then I’m just going to say whatever”.

As of late, Babymorocco couldn’t be more transparent. He’s proudly in love with Jean Paul, the latest in a long line of “sub–characters” and the bisexual proto–protagonist to Amour, at heart, a fun concept album about distance and transformation. A British exchange student and aspiring dancer, “Jean Paul is, in my body, my more effeminate, more gay side of me. Which is actually gay, I’m properly gay, it’s letting that happen,” he says. “From a kid until now, I’m always playing parts of me. But they’re not random characters, they’re just exaggerated through these characters. Big Rocco for a while was like a separate character. Jean Paul. Clayton, who I am. Babymorocco. And then I’ve also got my original birth name, which no one really knows.”

Executive produced by performer pals Frost Children, with assists from the likes of dear cupid., who used to Tecktonik dance in Paris, Amour is an accented amalgamation of French Electro, 2–step, happy hardcore and proto–EDM world–building. Among standouts “Rocco” and “Ear Acherrr”, the affecting ballad “No Cameo”–written by pop royalty Miranda Cooper–harkens back to early Babymorocco drops like “California”. “There’s a few really early ones which are proper emotional, but I need to get broken up with again to go back to that vibe”, he giggles. “I’m very much in touch with who I am as a musician, and I hope Amour gives people time to explore that properly. If they don’t take anything away from it, that’s fine, but I want them to see the effort that I put into it.” Frost Children, who also feature on a number of drops, are like his “music parents. If I could marry both of them and they could be mine forever, I would let them. This album consists of quite a lot of producers, but then everyone handed their stuff in to Frost who made it really cohesive.”

Elaborating on the French thread that runs throughout his new era, Babymorocco cites his love for Sexy Sushi, Justice, Yelle, SebastiAn and Daft Punk. “European dance music, but specifically French, has always made me feel really good. French is beautiful, also, great language. I should be able to speak it because I’m Moroccan, but I can’t, so I’ve tried to learn some for this record.” When I probe him for names of favourite music contemporaries, he replies: “making electronic shit quite manic, I’m really a big fan of at the moment. Suzy Sheer. In Madrid there’s these boys called Rusia–IDK, and its mori, Ralphie Choo and TRISTÁN!, who produced Crazy Cheap.”

In a summer of new–school recession pop hits, “Crazy Cheap” was inescapable. Hearing the surprise needle drop, during a Virus secret show set at Ormside Projects, was my lightbulb moment. Babymorocco does not navigate the plights of fame like your average pop star, in “Crazy Cheap”, he makes mention of Universal Credit and champagne from Tesco. He’s certainly aspirational, but honest and straightforward, nonetheless, about life as a struggling artist. A “penniless decadence”, he calls his approach. “I think mostly people realise it’s pretty true to form, they can say whatever they want, but this is my life. All the things I talk about is real shit, I’ve been broke, it’s kind of hard to ignore within my music. I genuinely live off my music when and where I can. Even if I make quite a lot of money for shows, that money’s going on rent.” As for how, you may wonder, he entertains the notion of wealth excess? “In London, there’s no house parties or clubs turning it out. You go to nights in London, you don’t go to clubs. New York definitely has way more going on constantly. LA, you end up in some beautiful house in the hills and its fun as fuck. I need to buy a club and own one, I’d call it Rocco’s, it would be sexy.”

Gearing up for Amour release day, Babymorocco already sets his sights on new horizons. “I don’t know if I’m going to continue Babymorocco after this album is out,” he remarks. “This record is Babymorocco versus Jean Paul going back–to–back. Who am I trying to be? How am I going to end up? There’s this idea, this destruction of Babymorocco through the videos even within the record itself.” He discloses details, our call drawing to a close, of an unreleased 12–track LP with slow–sounding dream pop, lo–fi and trip–hop ingredients. “I’m a writer first and foremost, before I did music, I was in LA writing a TV show that I was working on for ages. I would love to just write again.” In his belief, the missing link to complete happiness and prosperity is: “Success to the point of comfortability. Money to live, to exist as a musician. Notoriety, because I love attention. Ultimate notoriety. I don’t care about doing a big fat sexy song that everyone in the UK can hear because I’m not trying to stay on the internet, I’m trying to be out and about. If I did a song with Joel Corry, it would end the fucking UK. I need to do a song with Joel Corry, I need to just wait for it.”

Listen to Amour…

“My computer just fucking smashed,” Babymorocco, England’s chaotic party boy extraordinaire, exclaims over our Zoom call. Just moments earlier, the musician had connected on his iMac before disappearing. Following a minute’s pause, he returns through the loud speaker of his iPhone. “I pulled my screen forward, and then the whole computer just flew off the desk, and now it’s not turning on anymore”, he says laughing. I express my concerns–but he’s calm, collected and, just like his songs, positively oozing charisma. “It’s fine, it’s such a shit computer anyway. I need to get a new one but I’m just hoping I’ll leave it for 20 minutes and it will repair itself.” Could this be the same piece of technology that propelled his internet fame? Casablanca, Morocco–born Clayton Pettet could be found posing erotically for self-portraits, under the Babymorocco name, on 2016 Tumblr. Those around for the advent of his now–signature moniker perhaps couldn’t predict his rise to sun–and–sex pop stardom.

Pettet grew up in the coastal suburb of Boscombe, Bournemouth, navigating donk ragers and Mákina club nights in his preteen years. These formative influences, together with a general appreciation of 2000’s and 2010’s electro–Space Cowboy to Larry Tee–instilled a lease of life that would later translate into mid–COVID quarantine songwriting. A former Central Saint Martins student, one of Pettet’s earliest stints at performance art beheld the 2013 announcement of a project titled Art School Stole My Virginity. In the end there was no live sex, as a legion of media outlets anticipated. Instead, a defying reclamation of his own sexuality. “I don’t think I would do performance art again within that kind of context,” he recalls. “I really did like the concepts I was exploring then, but I think I was also trying to prove myself in a certain type of way as an art student.”

Following an initial string of moodier compositions, glitch synths and a boastful cadence would become trademark to the Babymorocco formulae–in large part due to the traction gained of his debut EP, 2023’s “The Sound”. Capturing a global appetite for island anthems and filthy beats, namely egotistical earworm “Everyone”, Babymorocco quickly attached himself to the playlists of young fans and hedonists alike–the majority of whom reside in America. His permeating electro reinventions –often fusing elements of hyperpop, nightcore and gabber–have yielded a Pop Crypt booking from PC Music’s A.G. Cook, UK and European tours with The Dare and Dorian Electra, and a feature set at Frost Children’s Brooklyn Frost Fest. “I’ve been to Magaluf so much, Ayia Napa. You know, weirdly I’ve never been to Zante, even though I have a song about it, but I would love to perform there,” he teases. “I just got back from LA, I think I’m really wired.”

It’s a wintry afternoon in London at the time of this call, contrary to the climate in the sunny City of Angels. Talk of across the pond activities imbues excitement: “I DJed which was cool. I filmed my music video for the next single with Charlotte Rutherford and it’s so sick. I’m actually doing, for the first time, choreo.” Referring to the raucous “Body Organic Disco Electronic” off his debut album Amour–out today–Babymorocco deconstructs a running theme in his latest video productions. For “Babestation”, the first single–“the girls are ripping me apart, taking my clothes off.” The second, call–and–response banger “Bikinis and Trackies”, features a cameo from iKeda–she’s actually signed to Babymorocco’s PhatBoy Records. “Eventually I would like to run my own label. PhatBoy is the groundwork and foundation of that, at the moment it’s kind of like a collective. We’ve been approached now by getting it maybe imprinted under this other label, so it can become a real thing”, he explains. Describing the concept for the video: “iKeda, wanting her profits from the songs, shoots me and runs me over with a car.” Finally, there’s “Body Organic Disco Electronic” which now covers all bases–“it’s the boys killing me.” It comes as no surprise to see a figure like Babymorocco, ever–so polarizing for his hyperbolic brand of self–absorption, attacked in all directions through a classic case of art imitating life. He’s able to chuckle when clarifying under the circumstances: “I feel like everyone is out to get me a little bit, and that’s not just paranoia. I do feel like I have a reputation of being a dickhead. I’m trying to give people a cathartic release by killing me through my music videos.”

Like Pettet, the subject of sexuality is integral to navigating Babymorocco territory–it’s as much a part of the image as the jargon, though controversial to some. “I’m obsessed with my fans, I love them. But I get as much vitriol as I get love. I can deal with all the personality shit, and it’s important to have that, but I want people to focus also on the music” he stresses. Indeed, it’s not uncommon to come across unapologetically raunchy lyrics about sweat and skinny jeans. How swaggy he is and how sexy he looks on the dancefloor in “Really Hot”, “SXC” or “Automatic”, for instance. Even on social media–“no one should watch porn, just watch me, I am sexy enough,” he brags in one tweet. Albeit, image does not manifest on our call.

“By the way, I would turn my camera on but I look like shit, so I can’t let you see me like this,” Babymorocco says over the speaker. It’s difficult to believe this. With a hypermasculine beefcake build straight out of Physique Pictorial, so prominent in Diesel’s XXXmas campaign, to imagine anything other than the tight tank, “trackie suit” and Converse–wearing profile we’re used to on cover art and promo shots is inconceivable. His Instagram, a curated elevation of his Tumblr days. Displays of half–naked muscle flexing and tongue swapping with girls and boys– the pièce de résistance of Amour’s creative rollout–are central to the playful aesthetic of Babymorocco. He is transparent about his sexuality, coming out and coming clean about the conversation of queerbaiting in a recent interview with Gay Times. And yet, the label continues to be thrown around. “People still were dragging me on Twitter. I’ve tried to make it more apparent, but if people aren’t getting it, then I’m just going to say whatever”.

As of late, Babymorocco couldn’t be more transparent. He’s proudly in love with Jean Paul, the latest in a long line of “sub–characters” and the bisexual proto–protagonist to Amour, at heart, a fun concept album about distance and transformation. A British exchange student and aspiring dancer, “Jean Paul is, in my body, my more effeminate, more gay side of me. Which is actually gay, I’m properly gay, it’s letting that happen,” he says. “From a kid until now, I’m always playing parts of me. But they’re not random characters, they’re just exaggerated through these characters. Big Rocco for a while was like a separate character. Jean Paul. Clayton, who I am. Babymorocco. And then I’ve also got my original birth name, which no one really knows.”

Executive produced by performer pals Frost Children, with assists from the likes of dear cupid., who used to Tecktonik dance in Paris, Amour is an accented amalgamation of French Electro, 2–step, happy hardcore and proto–EDM world–building. Among standouts “Rocco” and “Ear Acherrr”, the affecting ballad “No Cameo”–written by pop royalty Miranda Cooper–harkens back to early Babymorocco drops like “California”. “There’s a few really early ones which are proper emotional, but I need to get broken up with again to go back to that vibe”, he giggles. “I’m very much in touch with who I am as a musician, and I hope Amour gives people time to explore that properly. If they don’t take anything away from it, that’s fine, but I want them to see the effort that I put into it.” Frost Children, who also feature on a number of drops, are like his “music parents. If I could marry both of them and they could be mine forever, I would let them. This album consists of quite a lot of producers, but then everyone handed their stuff in to Frost who made it really cohesive.”

Elaborating on the French thread that runs throughout his new era, Babymorocco cites his love for Sexy Sushi, Justice, Yelle, SebastiAn and Daft Punk. “European dance music, but specifically French, has always made me feel really good. French is beautiful, also, great language. I should be able to speak it because I’m Moroccan, but I can’t, so I’ve tried to learn some for this record.” When I probe him for names of favourite music contemporaries, he replies: “making electronic shit quite manic, I’m really a big fan of at the moment. Suzy Sheer. In Madrid there’s these boys called Rusia–IDK, and its mori, Ralphie Choo and TRISTÁN!, who produced Crazy Cheap.”

In a summer of new–school recession pop hits, “Crazy Cheap” was inescapable. Hearing the surprise needle drop, during a Virus secret show set at Ormside Projects, was my lightbulb moment. Babymorocco does not navigate the plights of fame like your average pop star, in “Crazy Cheap”, he makes mention of Universal Credit and champagne from Tesco. He’s certainly aspirational, but honest and straightforward, nonetheless, about life as a struggling artist. A “penniless decadence”, he calls his approach. “I think mostly people realise it’s pretty true to form, they can say whatever they want, but this is my life. All the things I talk about is real shit, I’ve been broke, it’s kind of hard to ignore within my music. I genuinely live off my music when and where I can. Even if I make quite a lot of money for shows, that money’s going on rent.” As for how, you may wonder, he entertains the notion of wealth excess? “In London, there’s no house parties or clubs turning it out. You go to nights in London, you don’t go to clubs. New York definitely has way more going on constantly. LA, you end up in some beautiful house in the hills and its fun as fuck. I need to buy a club and own one, I’d call it Rocco’s, it would be sexy.”

Gearing up for Amour release day, Babymorocco already sets his sights on new horizons. “I don’t know if I’m going to continue Babymorocco after this album is out,” he remarks. “This record is Babymorocco versus Jean Paul going back–to–back. Who am I trying to be? How am I going to end up? There’s this idea, this destruction of Babymorocco through the videos even within the record itself.” He discloses details, our call drawing to a close, of an unreleased 12–track LP with slow–sounding dream pop, lo–fi and trip–hop ingredients. “I’m a writer first and foremost, before I did music, I was in LA writing a TV show that I was working on for ages. I would love to just write again.” In his belief, the missing link to complete happiness and prosperity is: “Success to the point of comfortability. Money to live, to exist as a musician. Notoriety, because I love attention. Ultimate notoriety. I don’t care about doing a big fat sexy song that everyone in the UK can hear because I’m not trying to stay on the internet, I’m trying to be out and about. If I did a song with Joel Corry, it would end the fucking UK. I need to do a song with Joel Corry, I need to just wait for it.”

Listen to Amour…