ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: Matreya

With over 280 million people affected by depression worldwide, Matreya's new single I Saw the Light hits deep. Blending ancestral chants shimmering synths and raw truth, the rising artist turns pain into power. From Reiki to rollercoaster beats she’s not just making music he’s sparking healing one track at a time.

Your new single *I Saw the Light* is so raw and powerful. Was there a lightbulb moment when you just knew you had to write it?

 

I wanted to create something that was both dark and uplifting—it was a little challenge I set for myself, to bring that kind of contrast to life. While I was producing the music for the track, I heard the chorus, “I saw the light,” and ironically, that was the lightbulb moment—quite literally!

You sing about something inside you having to “die” so healing could start. No big deal, right? What does that lyric mean to you these days?

 

A monk called Mingyur Rinpoche once said, *we are dying every day.*
Meaning every time you go to sleep and wake up, you have the opportunity to change and evolve. Actually, we have this opportunity in every moment. You cannot have rebirth without death; they are two sides of the same coin. If you really want to change who you are, the old you must literally die to make way for the seeds of the new person you want to become.

Your first single *Eagles* felt like flying, but *I Saw the Light* goes deep into the heart. How did your sound — and you — evolve between these songs?

 

*Eagles* needed to feel like flight; this needed to sound like a rollercoaster into the deep. The common thread was the ancestral chants that wanted to be expressed throughout both records. For me, the bodily feeling you get when listening to the music alone needs to tell the same story as the written lyrics.

 

You chose Reiki, meditation, and Qi Gong instead of medication. What was it like jumping into those practices for the first time? Did it feel weird, exciting, or both?

 

It felt like being plucked out of an ocean I never realised I was submerged in.
That gasp when you break through the water’s surface, and the realisation that there is a world beyond what you’ve known.

According to the World Health Organization, depression affects more than 280 million people worldwide. How did it feel knowing your own story might resonate with so many?

 

I have a lot of compassion for people who suffer with depression. I don’t think this is an easy planet to exist on. There have been many songs written about dark times that have resonated with so many — and this is my contribution, one that offers the idea of a way out.

How has diving into spirituality changed the way you make music or even just see the world?

 

You realise that who you are as a person directly affects the vibration of the music you create. Therefore, the higher you vibrate, the higher your music vibrates. Bob Marley is a great example: he didn’t try to change the frequency of his music — he was loving, and the music carried an energy of love because of it.

As for spirituality changing my perception of reality, it’s almost indescribable because it’s so far beyond our current ability to language concepts. We see the world through a very small bandwidth — like a low‑quality VR headset, if you like. But as you expand your awareness, the headset becomes vivid and dynamic — and also peaceful. This is the paradox of awakening.

In your #FromDarknessToLight series, you’ve chatted with amazing healers like yoga teachers, spiritual leaders, and mindfulness experts. Which conversation totally blew your mind?

 

All the conversations gave me different realisations, but Ana Forrest was particularly evocative. She has an incredible story, and her philosophy cuts straight to the root of the matter. One of her baselines is *“evolve or die.”* It made me think of the record and how synchronistic this had all become.

 

You’ve mentioned exploring Native American ceremonies, Buddhist mindfulness, and Aboriginal wisdom. Was there a particular tradition or ritual that really connected with you?

 

I regularly burn herbs like sage and rosemary, and use oils and incense to cleanse and re‑energise my spaces. I have an altar with trinkets and idols that hold symbolic meaning for me, which I decorate and light candles for.

I first learned the meaning behind these rituals as they’re traditionally taught, and now I allow my intuition to guide me in what I need. The key lies in intention — then you can apply the tools and practices you’ve picked up along the way.

 

Why do you think it’s so important for artists to open up about mental health instead of keeping it hush‑hush, especially when 1 in 4 people experience mental health issues at some point in their lives?

 

I have an issue with the term *mental health* because it gives the impression our mental health is separate from our emotional or physical health. It isn’t; they’re inextricably intertwined.

To me, when the mind believes itself to be a separate entity living on a planet it’s separate from — that is, by definition, unhealthy.

I don’t so much worry about artists opening up, as we already have an outlet for expression. I worry more for people who don’t have a way to creatively express themselves. That’s surely a road to misery. To open up is just the first step; then we must transform by finding the root.

 

The beat on *I Saw the Light* is so intense, and those synths shimmer like crazy. How did you and your team cook up that haunting yet hopeful vibe?

 

It’s interesting you use the words *intense* and *shimmer* because that was exactly the idea. The rhythm section was meant to almost growl at you; the chants added warp and power. And that allowed the rest of the production to become lighter and more iridescent.

Thinking back to your *X Factor* days, if you could time‑travel, what advice would you give your younger, rising‑star self?

 

Don’t quit. And don’t let breaks in creativity create self‑doubt — it’s just your creativity redefining itself.

 

So many artists like Demi Lovato and Kendrick Lamar have shared their own mental health battles. Do you feel inspired or encouraged by seeing other musicians speak out?

 

It makes me inspired to find the solution that deracinates this from human society. I no longer want to talk about mental health as this thing we can’t grasp. I want to target it with deliberate effect.

 

Was there a moment while making *I Saw the Light* when you thought, “Whoa, this is it, this is the song”?

 

I experience a lot of self‑doubt around my music if I’m totally honest. I sometimes don’t allow myself to feel that *“this is it”* moment — maybe it’s a fear of becoming too solidified in my own ego to see the truth of it.

The way I measure a song is: if I can loop four bars of the instrumental and it doesn’t get boring to me.

What’s next on your creative horizon? More music, videos, world tours, or maybe a meditation retreat we can all crash?

 

More music, more visuals, and more storytelling. There will be some shows in the UK, keep an eye on my socials for more details to come soon.

As for a meditation retreat, I can most definitely do that — and you won’t need to crash; you’ll be invited.

For anyone going through a dark time, what’s one piece of encouragement you wish you’d heard when you were struggling — and what message do you hope *I Saw the Light* sends them?

 

It’s hard to tell someone the anguish will eventually pass when they’re in the thick of it — although it will.

What I think is more helpful is to realise there is a silent, peaceful witness to your suffering: universal consciousness. And you have the free will to choose which one you identify as. It doesn’t mean you won’t feel pain, but it means you will simultaneously be at peace.

A paradox, I know — but it’s a more accurate understanding of reality.