Witness The Evolution Of British Indie R&B Singer Mercy's Cartel

Witness The Evolution Of British Indie R&B Singer Mercy's Cartel

This year we are witnessing the evolution of Mercy’s Cartel. The Bristol-based “indie R&B” singer is a novice to the industry, crafting a unique sound that outshines her contemporaries. Known for her distinctive approach to lyricism; every song that she writes has poetic undertones, of an R&B, gospel and afrobeats flair ever-present. Her belting harmonies converge with the funk-based rhythm and African beat, resulting in music that highlights Mercy’s role as a singer, rapper and storyteller. 2020: everything changes for Mercy, the world is hers for the taking.

I catch up with Mercy in her flat, and the conversation is flowing, yet suddenly reaches a halt when I ask her to describe her sound. After pausing, Mercy’s answer begins with multiple false starts, and she says in a questioning tone, “I don’t think I have a particular sound?” I want my sound to change over time. I want you to listen to my sound, and for it to create a picture for you.” Laughing, she continues, “even though I know music is sonic, it doesn’t make sense!” It actually makes perfect sense, and just proves that Mercy is a true lyricist, recognising the power that words have in encapsulating one’s thoughts, “it’s whatever I’m feeling at the time”.

“I want my sound to change over time. I want you to listen to my sound, and for it to create a picture for you.”
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Mercy’s desire to have her story heard stems from being raised in Essex, where she felt like she couldn’t be her authentic self. “At the time, I just wanted to fit in, because I was the only black girl in the year. You definitely felt the difference”. Whilst Mercy tells me this, she giggles, trying to make light of the matter, “it wasn’t cute. People let you know that you were different”. This sense of isolation led Mercy to find solace in music, playing the double bass in her local orchestra, singing in her school choir, and getting involved in church music.

In spite of these activities, pursuing a music career was never on Mercy’s radar. If anything, the opposite was the case, “I’ve been trying not to do music my whole life. I’ve basically just given into music, I’ve been trying not to do it for so long”. Mercy goes on to say, “growing up in a Nigerian household when you’re smart, there're so many other things you’re pushed towards”. With a sense of sadness, she mutters, “it made me feel like shit.” I got the impression that Mercy sees her inquisitive nature as a vice, believing it to be why she was discouraged from pursuing music, “because I was good in school, music was never given to me in a way that would be commercially viable in my life.” Being pushed into a box, with no freedom to pursue her passion was hard for Mercy, “it has done a lot of damage to my mental health”.

“because I was good in school, music was never given to me in a way that would be commercially viable in my life.”
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“growing up in a Nigerian household when you’re smart, there so many other things you’re pushed towards”.
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Mercy has no trouble talking about her upbringing and how it has impacted her mentally. Her 2017 mixtape, Vibes Cartel, was written whilst Mercy was hospitalised after being the victim of a racial hate crime that led to her experiencing suicidal depression and anxiety. It was released at a pivotal moment in her life, where the racist incident had reached national news, and she had decided to drop out of Bristol University in order to pursue music full time. Vibes Cartel discusses personal issues, such as substance abuse, vulnerability, and heartbreak.

But her newest release, Sleep, marks a stark departure from the darker themes of her earlier songs. The music video is set in a brightly lit studio, and Mercy is dancing around cotton clouds, having fun and not taking herself seriously. The track feels lighthearted, with a vibe that is genre-fluid and guaranteed to get your feet moving. After asking her why this track is so different to her previous releases, Mercy tells me, “I worry that, sometimes, my music can feel disconnected. It serves me to make some ‘fast food’ music, something that has a bit of depth, but not too much depth to it that you don’t know what i’m saying”. I was shocked by Mercy’s reply, it isn’t ordinary for artists to go out of their way to not be experimental. She continued, “It’s the first song I’ve done where I haven't been emotionally invested. It was a laugh. And it’s the best one i’ve done so far. It’s taught me to take things less seriously.”

For Mercy, discussing her mental health in her music was draining her to the point where her love for the art was wavering. “Talking about your mental health all the time is really overrated. There’s a time and place for everything”. Her voice increases as she says, “I don’t want mental health to be my brand”, as if she is ensuring that it’s the one thing I take away from the interview.

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The music video of Sleep cuts to shots of Mercy lying on a bed of clouds, in red lingerie, seductively looking directly into the camera, This is a change from Mercy’s typical, androgenous style, with the release of this video dropping in tandem with a shift in direction of Mercy’s approach to social media. I asked her about what motivated her to be more in tune with her sexuality in the public sphere, and she replied defiantly, “It’s been a bit Machiavellian, as in the end justifies the means”. After asking her to elaborate, this defiance wavers, as she solemnly admits, “the other day, people wanted me for an event, but then saw my Instagram and changed their mind because my followers aren’t up. It’s not fair that I should not be getting events because of my photos”. I can tell that this experience has negatively affected her.

“I really wish I was not in an environment that was based on what I look like. I wish it was based on what i have to say! After all, It’s music that I’m making.”

Nevertheless, Mercy is trying to stay strong, “it’s hard, but I’ve realised there’s no way I can do music without social media”. This is a hard conclusion for her to reach, so I asked Mercy how she is handling this new approach, and she shrugged saying, “I’m just trying to be sarcastic and fun about it. It’s all I can really do.”

For Mercy’s Cartel, now is the time to move to London, and continue her journey there. “Bristol’s good to get your name out, but it’s not good if you want to make money!”. Mercy doesn’t feel too nervous about the move though, she is confident about what’s in store, “I feel like I'm sitting on stuff that no one can really predict for me”. In London, she hopes to continue being open in a way that doesn’t focus on the negatives, “even if I’m feeling sad, I want to create music that uplifts people”. Mercy stops and thinks for a second, then says to me, “I’m learning that you can be transparent whilst emitting positive energy”. Let’s hope that these positive vibes never end for Mercy, as she continues to find success in her promising career.

Follow Mercy on Instagram on @mercycartel

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