In 2019, Meaka Monroe walked into a music therapy session in London with more questions than confidence. Weighed down by trauma and a life-altering diagnosis, she didn’t come in as an artist—she came in seeking release. What she found wasn’t just catharsis; it was a starting point. Making music with others who carried their own scars, she discovered a way to speak without speaking. That was the beginning of Meaka Monroe, an artist who turns raw emotion into rhythm, pain into presence. Her forthcoming debut album, Algorhythm & Blues, isn’t just a collection of songs—it’s a declaration of survival.
Raised in the diverse soundscape of Leeds, Meaka soaked up everything from Northern Soul and Dub to UK Reggae, Hip Hop, and the underground rave scene. Those early influences run through her music, but they don’t define it. What sets her apart is the emotional clarity and unfiltered grit she brings to every track. “When I channel my emotions into lyrics and melodies, I find the message,” she says—and it shows. Her sound is fluid but fearless, drawing from personal truth rather than genre rules. The result: music that doesn’t just fill a room—it holds a mirror up to whoever’s listening.
The road hasn’t been smooth. Last year, Meaka hit a milestone with over half a million streams and a growing base of 35,000 monthly listeners. Then, without warning, two of her songs vanished from Spotify—along with tens of thousands of plays. “I’m still in the dark,” she says, her voice equal parts frustration and fire. But instead of spiralling, she got back to work. “It’s made me more determined to keep creating.” That grit—her refusal to let setbacks define her—is the same energy that runs through her music. She’s not here to chase trends; she’s here to carve space.
Completing Algorhythm & Blues was a turning point. More than just a debut, this album became a map of healing and self-definition. Writing and producing it forced Meaka to shape chaos into something deliberate. Tracks like “Backwards Forwards” and “Hide and Seek” stood out enough to catch the attention of BBC Introducing, a nod that she was onto something resonant. “That album shaped me as an artist,” she says. And when you listen, you hear the work—every beat carrying a sense of purpose, every lyric landing with lived-in weight.
Connection fuels everything she does. Without the safety net of a label or a PR machine, Meaka’s building something honest. She’s put together a band to take her songs from studio to stage, with live shows starting this July. “I’m excited to get out there and find my tribe,” she says, with the unmistakable energy of someone ready to meet the moment. You can find her online @meakamonroe, but she’s most alive in performance, where the space between artist and audience gets personal. No gimmicks, just real music, shared in real time.
She’s not slowing down. Between rehearsals, Meaka is putting the finishing touches on her second album while prepping to drop a new single, Sometimes People, this week. Her vision is clear: tour, grow, and keep telling stories that speak directly to those who need to hear them. “Everyone’s got an opinion, don’t let others define who you are,” she asserts, with the wisdom of an artist who understands the power of her own vision.
If Algorhythm & Blues is the introduction, what’s coming next promises even more depth and daring.
To her fans, Meaka offers simple gratitude: “Real ones, I love you all.” She credits her band with amplifying her voice and invites anyone listening to come see it live. “Don’t forget to come see us play,” she says. But even if you haven’t yet, you’ve probably felt her presence. Meaka Monroe doesn’t just make music—she makes space for honesty. And in a world full of noise, that’s a sound worth turning up.