Mahalia On Writing Relatable, Make-You-Think Music
With playful lyrics, soulful texture and a lot of empathy, MAHALIA has established herself as a distinctive, universal talent since her teenage breakthrough. Here, she speaks to NATTY KASAMBALA about using writing as an outlet, overcoming feelings of being an outsider, and the optimism she hopes fans will take away from her songs
It’s fair, if a little cliché, to say that music is in Mahalia’s blood. While growing up in Leicester, her parents were in their own band, and she spent her childhood watching them perform at live-music nights. “Music was around [in my house] all the time; there’s always been music coming out of every single room,” she recalls. Her parents showed her the ropes with soulful classics – “Mahalia Jackson, Ella Fitzgerald, Aretha Franklin, Billie Holiday, Norah Jones” – while her two older brothers introduced her to US hip-hop, The Kooks and JoJo, rounding out the hyper-eclectic family taste that still informs her music today. It was no surprise when she tried her hand at songwriting aged just seven – and discovered that she had a knack for it. By the time she was 12, Mahalia was “really writing”, and, as an introverted teen, the practice became an invaluable outlet.
Mahalia stood out in other ways, too: outside her family, there weren’t many people in Leicester who looked like her, and, despite being a self-dubbed ‘extroverted introvert’ these days, she recalls struggling a lot with confidence and feeling different when she was younger. “I had an Afro, I had a mole, I had darker skin than all the other girls, big boobs. I just looked different,” she says. Music allowed her to express all the things she was harboring inside. “The songs I was writing were about love and all the feelings I was too scared to share because I was scared of getting rejected.” And when her talent became apparent, that means of expression morphed into a superpower for young Mahalia; a marker of ‘difference’ that made her feel special in a way she hadn’t felt before. “I think music was my shining moment… kind of my way of asserting myself in my peer group as special, which is sad when I think about it.”
However, when she was approached by Asylum Records and signed her first contract at the age of 13, it became clear that her talent wasn’t fiction or a crutch – it was indisputable. And rather than becoming a cautionary tale of the often-maligned ‘major-label machine’, Mahalia was able to patiently shape and nurture a blooming career – as well as a life outside it. “[Signing] was huge… it massively helped with my development as a songwriter because it was almost validation; that I knew I was good, that I shouldn’t be afraid to continue with it,” she says.
“Last year felt like an experimental year; I wanted to put out some music that didn’t necessarily feel like old Mahalia. I had a lot of fun and made a lot of music I was proud of, but I also felt like I roamed quite far away from the place I wanted to be
”Mahalia
She released her first EP at 14, then took a break to focus on finishing school. “I quickly realized being a signed artist and going to school was like having two full-time jobs,” the now-23-year-old laughs. She went on to release another EP while studying dance at A level, though she stayed in school more for the social gains than anything else: “I wanted to live out my sixth-form life and not have any regrets as an adult.” But it wasn’t until making the move to London in 2017 to be closer to the action that she started to feel herself cutting through with the release of her breakthrough single, Sober. She performed the track on the iconic Berlin-based, live-session platform Colors – and it spread like wildfire.
Five years on, Mahalia’s songwriting continues to go from strength to strength, chronicling and subverting the nuances of everyday life into modern, make-you-think melodies that offer a fresh perspective on relatable situations (and situationships). From I Wish I Missed My Ex, a defiant anthem for post-breakup glow-ups, to Do Not Disturb, which places a toxic partner on silent mode in URL and IRL. Touring the world and collaborating with the likes of AJ Tracey, Pa Salieu, Burna Boy and Rico Nasty, Mahalia has carved out a lane for herself, detailing her wide-ranging meditations with rich, soulful texture and distinctly British flair.
“Last year felt like an experimental year; I wanted to put out some music that didn’t necessarily feel like old Mahalia. I had a lot of fun and made a lot of music I was proud of, but I also felt like I roamed quite far away from the place I wanted to be,” she explains.
Now, with her upcoming EP, Letter To Ur Ex, she’s returned to her beloved modus operandi, with the project featuring a cyclical narrative that links the opening and closing tracks as two sides of the same romantic coin. On the title track, Mahalia pleads with the ex-girlfriend of her current beau to leave them alone. To the melody of fluid, acoustic guitars and ascending strings, she asks for space to grow in her new relationship, explaining, ‘You’ve never been me, but I’ve been you, girl; I’ve had my heart broken too, girl, many times before, yeah.’ By the end of the five tracks, we loop back to the love triangle – except this time from a different perspective. Accompanied by solemn keys, Letter To Your N(ex)t conjures up a hypothetical response to the first letter in a woman-to-woman warning. She riffs in the first verse, ‘When he told you ’bout the break-up, did he blame me? Hmm, did he tell you I was crazy?’
“I just wanted it to be this conversation between two women where they share their experience, and it’s not as clear as you might think it is,” she says. It’s like a 21st-century, emotionally stable reinterpretation of the ’90s classic The Boy Is Mine by Brandy and Monica. “Each song feels like a letter to a different person,” she adds.
“It sounds quite cliché, but I’ve always wanted people to come away from [my music] being hopeful in all realms of life, whether that be love or friendships; that things get better
”Mahalia
Meanwhile, in Whatever Simon Says, Mahalia wrestles with the unwelcome way men often tell women how to live their lives, singing, ‘Wear your makeup, make it look casual, wear your hair straight, actually natural. That don’t make no sense, I don’t need saving, I am not a damsel.’ Again, it’s that carefully considered blend of empowering and endearing that the singer strikes so well. The title is taken from the childhood game ‘Simon Says’ and she laughingly rants about the fact that we’re conditioned to be obedient to this proverbial Simon from such an early age.
Yet, despite the deep subject matters, her music never feels bleak or self-indulgent. Instead, it’s a playful collection of empathetic musings coming from a better place – one that’s seeking growth and mutual understanding. “It sounds quite cliché, but I think I’ve always wanted people to come away from [my music] being hopeful in all realms of life, whether that be love or friendships; that things get better,” she explains. “I always try to write in a way that tells people that I’m going to be okay regardless… things and feelings don’t last forever. You're going to get over it one day.”
Mahalia’s Letter To Ur Ex is out now