Last updated: 15 hours ago
MALLIKA XIII, is singer-songwriter born and brought-up in London.
Maybe it was her Indian heritage and some kind of blood-deep Stockholm syndrome that led her to music of the British Invasion (kidding) but from an early age she found herself drawn to the Britpop music of a yonder time. Growing-up she was raised on a medley of Beatles and Stones that ignited a curiosity in music and the Magical Mystery of songwriting. The excavation didn’t stop there: star-crossed Buckingham and Nicks, Joni, Bowie etc. It was mystical levels of coolness. Buying her first guitar as a teenager with money she won at a tennis tournament (!) she started putting pen to paper, cobbling together chords and writing her own songs.
Her debut EP, Something Blue, is a four-track chronicle of the rollercoaster years of her 20s— it is the best of times, it is the worst of times, and some of the time it’s bottling one of those breakdowns into a jaunty tune. These songs feel like those 3am convos with Me, Myself and I, or a long walk in the park, headphones on, when you realise you will probably (but not definitely) survive.
Maybe it was her Indian heritage and some kind of blood-deep Stockholm syndrome that led her to music of the British Invasion (kidding) but from an early age she found herself drawn to the Britpop music of a yonder time. Growing-up she was raised on a medley of Beatles and Stones that ignited a curiosity in music and the Magical Mystery of songwriting. The excavation didn’t stop there: star-crossed Buckingham and Nicks, Joni, Bowie etc. It was mystical levels of coolness. Buying her first guitar as a teenager with money she won at a tennis tournament (!) she started putting pen to paper, cobbling together chords and writing her own songs.
Her debut EP, Something Blue, is a four-track chronicle of the rollercoaster years of her 20s— it is the best of times, it is the worst of times, and some of the time it’s bottling one of those breakdowns into a jaunty tune. These songs feel like those 3am convos with Me, Myself and I, or a long walk in the park, headphones on, when you realise you will probably (but not definitely) survive.
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