Artist Spotlight: Raquel Martins

Raquel Martins is a master of quiet devastation. Whether caught in love’s anguish on ‘Fragile Eyes’ or battling self acceptance on ‘Mountains’, her power at rendering emotion shines through, succumbing to her feelings at their rawest.

A Portuguese native now based in London, Raquel has been impressing across the live circuit for a while now as a session player. In 2021, she stepped further into the limelight, showcasing her songwriting nuance in a gently grandiose manner on her debut EP The Way. Continuing to develop her craft and rise in acclaim amongst the burgeoning UK R&B and soul scene, we’ve been blessed with two singles from Raquel in the run up to her sophomore EP, Empty Flower, set for release on 17th February. 

‘Fragile Eyes’, a late ’22 cut, embraces her Latin roots, combining sun-kissed soul with themes of toxic masculinity and jealously to concoct a thought-provoking yet undeniably groovy number. Recent follow up ‘Mountains’ leans even further into heartache; within the conceptual lyricism and cinematic instrumentation, we find Raquel at a peak of emotional resonance, searching for answers to ambiguous questions. 

In the run up to her new EP, The Pit speak to Raquel about moving to London to pursue her dream, expressing herself through her art, and the meaning behind her music.

Who and what influences you?

I grew up listening to a lot of Portuguese music, a lot of music from Cape Verde and Cuba. My family loves music. It’s interesting because everybody in Portugal makes music in a boxy way - there wasn’t much crossover and blending of music genres. When I moved over here, then I was like oh my god. I remember discovering all these artists on a playlist and realising you guys were mixing every genre possible. It was sick, and I remember thinking I could do this too. I love listening to music, it’s crazy and it just surprises you.

Especially considering how rigid music was for you back home, how did you start writing music yourself? 

My grandpa played guitar and piano, he did music as a hobby. He had this old guitar lying around the house and I used to play with it as a kid, so through him I felt the urge to learn how to play. My family does love music, there is a music scene in Portugal. 

You mentioned discovering this new music, did you find your sound now through your influences or was it the natural sound for you? 

It was just a click in my brain. I always loved Brazilian music, jazz and hip-hop and discovering those new artists made me realise I could mix them. It opened my mind to the possibility of being able to do it. When I moved to London, I felt like I got even more in touch with Brazilian music and music that just reminded me of home. I think it’s quite common when you move away from home to a big city, and I thought I might as well be myself. You start to try and find comfort in things that feel familiar to you, and for me that was Brazilian music. I still do it now when I’m feeling a bit down, listening to Brazilian music is like home. I just started exploring more and studying a lot more Brazilian music and then it just naturally became an influence. 

Why did you move over? Was it to pursue music, or just something separate?

I think that at that time, it felt kind of impossible to pursue music in Portugal. I didn’t overthink this decision at all, it felt obvious if I wanted to pursue music. It was either Berkley or London, but London is cheaper and closer to home. It seemed like the only way possible to do music, so I came over straight from high school to study guitar. The whole thing was a cultural shock, at first I was really mesmerised by everything. It’s a constant thing when you’re away from home, but then London slowly became my home. I started disconnecting from Portugal a little bit. I love London, I feel very much at home now.

The London alt-R&B and soul scene here is crazy, there’s a lot of talent. What was it like trying to integrate yourself into a scene that was already established, and that you were joining from the outside? 

I think it was never conscious, I just wanted to make the music I wanted to make. I played guitar, so I used to play for a lot of artists – that gave me an in to meet loads of artists I love. It didn’t feel like I was trying to fit in, it was just the mentality of ‘I just moved to London, everyone is so good’ and I just never thought about it too much. I was studying a lot, and I just kind of ignored trying to fit in the scene and just wanted to play my own stuff instead. My own identity, that’s always been my priority. 

Do you ever worry about standing out in a congested scene? Does that change the way you make music? 

There’s so much music out there nowadays, but that means that people kind of care more about connecting with the artist. Music has to be great, but people will like you because you’re you. People will like the music too, but there’s so much music in the market that it’s almost become less relevant. If I can make somebody feel something, that’s all that matters. Connection is an important thing. 

Being able to connect with an artist deeply, whatever particular feeling that is, it’s an all-consuming sense of understanding between you and the artist. With your early releases you had a strong Latin undertone. Why did you feel like it was so important to stick with that Latin element? 

It’s not conscious, it’s just me. It’s what appeals to me when I listen to music – I love percussion. I try to have a layer or percussion in all of my music, it’s how I start most of my music. With my first EP, I was studying Brazilian music a lot but now I’m trying to explore other elements. 

It’s nice that you don’t seem to overthink when it comes to your music. 

I overthink everything else in my life, so I need something where I don’t. I do overthink my music sometimes, I’ve got to be honest. I just feel like I’m not in control with the music, it just naturally comes out. 

You’ve toured and played with some crazy artists. How was that experience of performing with that calibre of artist, and has it made you reconsider yourself as a performer? 

Definitely, you learn a lot. You have a way into certain rooms and places that I, at my level now, wouldn’t usually get into. You get to see things also go wrong with things. Even on a pop level, it’s just interesting to see how people connect to artists in a live setting. It’s so different from my studio, you know, but I’m very thankful because I’ve learnt so much. It’s tough to balance as well, it’s like having a double life. My music will always be where my heart is, but it’s fun to perform for other artists. It’s very intense and tiring travelling all the time – I’m the least rock n roll person ever. 

What are you trying to say with your new track ‘Mountains’? 

What am I trying to say? Firstly, I was just trying to figure out where the fuck home is. Sometimes music is such a selfish thing, I’m just out here trying to figure out who I am in my music. That’s why I love it. It’s just so funny that people come along to be part of the journey. That’s why I do it in the first place. If I’m feeling a certain emotion I can’t understand, I can find the truth of it and the way to articulate that feeling through my music. It’s the same feeling as you get from therapy. I’m playing music, and words come out and I start crying. There’s a lot of tunes on the EP where I was going through a situation, and I didn’t know how I was feeling about it, and I wrote the music as the situation was developing and it helped me figure out how I was feeling. I think that’s why people love listening to music. The more honest and vulnerable you are with your music, the more people will listen and relate. It's all about your unique experience as a person.  

What about the video, it’s very striking. What was the thought behind that?

With the video, you see two versions of me. It’s about learning to co-exist with all your sides, just accepting yourself. I wrote it about another person, but in the video, I wanted to make it about me. I wanted to write it for somebody very close to me, someone whose sense of self-love was very distorted. They couldn’t see things clearly, and they weren’t dealing with things they needed to and it all kept coming back. If you repress stuff and don’t deal with it, it’s always going to manifest itself in your relationship with people. In the video there’s a rope that represents that evil side, the side holding you back and that represents your lack of self-love and how it affects you. There’s also the theme of running away and feelings haunting you, but at the end I remove that ‘jacket’ of self-doubt.

What do you want a listener to take from the song? 

Deal with your shit, man. It’s not worth it. You need to take action and deal with stuff, I’m very into self-development so I’m very into working on myself. If we understand all of these sides of ourselves that we don’t like, if we understand where they come from we can begin to sort ourselves out. There’s beauty in that process; coming to terms with yourself. 

Where do you want to take your artistry? What do you want to do with your music?

I want to make sure it reaches as many people as possible. The more people that connect with it, the better. I also want to stay in a place where I can write whatever music I want, because it means I’ll express myself as genuinely as possible. My music is reaching more people now than it was last year, and if that keeps happening I’ll be happy.