MAX MARYOT

MAX MARYOTT knows California can look like paradise from the outside, but his new music understands what happens when the sunshine stops working as a disguise. In his first stretch of releases, from “Summer Thing” and “Don’t Let Me Go” to “Nothing Good Will Last Forever” and now “Cold In California,” the San Juan Capistrano-raised singer is building a world where pop, R&B, desire, doubt, and movement all blur into something intimate, sensual, and quietly self-aware.

There is a charm to Maryott’s honesty because he does not try to over-polish the mess of becoming. He talks about leaving the “traditional” path, returning to performance, learning that Los Angeles can feel emotionally cold, and finding language for the ache of ambition before it hardens into ego. His songs move through love, lust, self-discovery, and survival with the kind of confidence that still leaves room for confession. As he puts it, “you will lose yourself if you don’t stay true to who you are.”

You come from San Juan Capistrano, a place people often see as beautiful, coastal, and calm, but “Cold In California” suggests that even dreamlike places can turn lonely. How did growing up in Southern California shape your ideas of beauty, ambition, desire, and distance?

Yeah, my hometown was all those things and more. I had a pretty cool childhood in this little city, which is also known for being an equestrian destination. We have one horse that’s been with us for twelve or thirteen years now! But I think, like any kid anywhere, I had my share of highs and lows, which great weather can only help with so much. So maybe in a strange way, it helped prepare me for Los Angeles, where I am now transitioning to.

I think it’s common for people to think the LA setting and lifestyle can camouflage a lot of inner anxiety or turmoil, but I know better. Emotionally speaking, I think LA can be as cold as anywhere else in the world, and you have to find your true peace of mind from within.

My arrival back after four years in college was a reminder of that. For a while, I found myself disappointed that my music career wasn’t falling into place right away, and I struggled with wondering if I’d made the right decision to take the chance. Writing this song has helped that doubt start to fade, and I’m grateful for that.

You discovered performing when you were around six, but you did not begin recording music until 2024. How did all those years of dancing, listening, watching, and quietly becoming prepare you for the moment when you finally started putting your own voice on record?

Unfortunately, I drifted away from theater and performing when I was entering middle school, but it has always been a love of mine. Aside from my own aspirations in the industry, I am a huge fan of music, as you might expect. There were years and years of my life when I was purely consuming other music by my favorite artists across a wide range of genres, and ultimately, that has prepared me well to craft my own art. Witnessing how some of the legends do it brought back my confidence to put my talents on display again, and it felt like the right time to get back into it. I had gone down the “traditional” path and decided corporate life wasn’t for me. I wouldn’t change anything about my story and how I got here.

Your music lives in a sensual space, but it does not feel empty or purely aesthetic. It moves through dance, pop, R&B, love, lust, and self-discovery. How do you know when a song needs to be felt in the body first, and when it needs to confess something before it moves?

I think a truly great song should always be felt in the body. I guess as we start a song, we either feel it or not, and if we don’t, it’s hard to keep going with it – music should never fail you, no matter how many times you’ve heard the song. Six months down the road, when I come back to a song I love, it still hits the same, and to me, that makes it great. Sometimes the raw emotion of the lyrics requires less feeling in the body and more stimulation of the mind, but I think the best is when you find the sweet spot between the two.

In your first stretch of releases, from “Summer Thing” and “Don’t Let Me Go” to “Nothing Good Will Last Forever” and now “Cold In California,” you seem to be building a world around tension: wanting closeness, wanting freedom, wanting the future, and sometimes losing the present. How has your understanding of love changed since you started writing songs instead of just living through the feelings?

My understanding has pretty much remained consistent: love is fucking confusing, and that’s all I have to say. “Cold In California” is such a sharp idea because California is supposed to represent warmth, escape, reinvention, and possibility.

How did you arrive at the image of coldness as the emotional truth of a relationship falling apart in a place that is supposed to feel like paradise?

California has always represented warmth for me, warmth from family, home, and community. However, the idea of cold stems from my naivety upon returning home, thinking that I would have a quick and easy road to stardom. Something about being in Los Angeles makes it feel more real... you’d think the doors would open more easily, but in reality, that just isn’t how it works. This song is me grappling with my inner thoughts about my artistry and this path I’ve committed myself to, and processing these thoughts and turning it into this art has made a vast impact on my overall well-being.

There is a quiet ache in the song about ambition and connection pulling against each other. How do you personally wrestle with the cost of chasing a future when that same chase can create distance from the people, places, or versions of yourself that once made you feel grounded?

I know that no matter what, in order to battle through hard times or sustain any level of success I might achieve, I am going to need to stay positive and grounded. This will ultimately help me maintain both professional and personal relationships in a tumultuous, cutthroat industry. Along this journey, it is my personal goal not to lose sight of what really matters in life, which is easier said than done, especially for creative people who are driven in their endeavors.

For an emerging artist, ego can be both armor and danger. It can help you survive the spotlight, but it can also distort the reason you wanted the spotlight in the first place. How are you learning to protect your ambition without letting it harden you?

That’s a great point – ego can keep you standing, but it can also be the thing that knocks you down. In my case, I’m a bit of a realist, and I need to remain that way. Just treating every disappointment as an opportunity and part of the journey has allowed me to roll with the punches and protect myself in the process. With that said, I think daily affirmations are important to remind myself why I’m doing what I’m doing, and I urge anyone reading this to join me in telling themselves the same: “I am kind and confident. I am strong, brave, and sexy. I am talented. And I am here for a reason.”

Your work touches on love, lust, movement, vulnerability, and becoming yourself in public. Beyond the music industry part of it, what kind of conversation do you hope your songs give people permission to have about desire, honesty, identity, or emotional survival?

I hope that my storytelling inspires people to be comfortable and confident about what they desire. You have to be open and honest with yourself before you can share that effectively with someone else. It may take time for you to fully come into your being, but once you do, it’ll all make sense. I also hope that people are inspired to remain true to themselves instead of putting on a facade for virality and popularity. I’m especially guilty of this myself because sometimes I’ll write what I think people want to hear, instead of what means the most to me. As a new artist I think people appreciate authenticity, so my final message would just be reiterating that you will lose yourself if you don’t stay true to who you are.

If you were a book, what book would you be and why? 

In a way, this journey I’m embarking on is a book within itself. I just haven’t decided who’s writing the biography yet ;) Maybe you guys could?