Still Water, Heavy Songs: In Conversation with mercury

Photo by Elizabeth Marsh

mercury is the indie rock project of Maddie Kerr, a Tennessee-based songwriter from the rural outskirts of Franklin whose music is built on emotional honesty and quiet intensity. Formed in 2022, the project quickly found its footing through songs written during a period of personal hardship, with tracks like ‘Born in Early May,’ ‘Special,’ and ‘Crick’ capturing moments of uncertainty, vulnerability, and self-reckoning. For Kerr, songwriting has always been a way of making sense of her inner world, a process of learning to sit with her feelings and allow herself the space to speak them aloud.

Raised far from the ocean but deeply drawn to it, Kerr’s imagination has long been shaped by water, distance, and longing. That sense of suspended emotion runs through mercury’s music, which balances softness with weight, blending indie rock with dreamlike textures and heavier undercurrents. Her influences stretch from the hazy melancholy of Mazzy Star to the intensity of Deftones, a range that mirrors the emotional push and pull in her songwriting. It’s a connection that feels almost mythic. When Kerr was born, ‘Fade Into You’ by Mazzy Star was playing, a detail her parents still joke was the moment the spell was cast.

Kerr picked up a guitar at seven years old, instinctively knowing she needed to learn it to be happy. Years later, that instinct remains at the heart of mercury. Her first-ever single ‘I Don’t Know You Like I Used To,’ arrived in 2022 and has surpassed 4.5 million streams, introducing listeners to a voice unafraid of discomfort or introspection. Songs like ‘Woolgathering’ lean further into that honesty, exploring the paralysis of waiting, spiralling thoughts, and the dread of imagining worst-case scenarios.

Now with nearly 500,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, mercury continues to evolve while staying rooted in emotional truth. The latest single, ‘Heaven’ released on 12th November, signals another step forward, arriving ahead of major touring milestones, including a US and Canada run with Arcy Drive and an upcoming US tour supporting Colony House. Still, at its core, mercury remains a project about feeling deeply, writing through it, and allowing music to hold the things that are hardest to say.  We sat down with Maddie to talk about the release of 'Heaven,' the progression of her sound and her deep affinity for the ocean.

You’re originally from the rural outskirts of Franklin, Tennessee. How did growing up in that environment shape the way you see music and storytelling?

Nobody around me or in my family did music. I just always loved it from a young age. I remember being in high school and deciding where to go next, and I didn't feel pulled anywhere because music had already been my whole life. I don’t think where I grew up influenced whether I wanted to do music. I feel like I would’ve done this no matter where I was born.

I’m actually grateful that nobody in my family did music, because it never felt like something I had to do. It was just something I genuinely loved. I wanted to learn guitar, write songs, and spill emotions in the way I was hearing them in music. My family is spread across Tennessee, and we have the Great Smoky Mountains, which are beautiful, but the drive to make music was always internal. 

Photo by Elizabeth Marsh

You picked up a guitar at seven years old and felt that learning it was essential to your happiness. What do you remember about that moment, and how did it set the course for mercury?

I always talk about this because it’s one of my most vivid early memories of music and identity. My dad had this learner Fender guitar and all the CD’s that came with it. I remember him sitting on the couch playing, and I just thought, I want to do that. Before that, I was constantly listening to CDs, dancing around my room with my iPod Nano. He pressed my fingers down on the strings and it hurt so badly that I started crying. I remember thinking, this sucks, but I still need to be able to do this. I went upstairs, stared at the wall, and decided I had to figure it out. I was way too young to be having those thoughts, but I remember crying because I couldn’t play yet, and it felt essential to me for some reason I couldn’t explain. My parents signed me up for guitar lessons, but I only went for two weeks before deciding I wanted to teach myself. I think that instinct has stayed with me. 

mercury began in 2022, and so much of the early music came out of a difficult period for you. What did writing songs like ‘Special’ and ‘Born in Early May’ help you understand about yourself?

The very first iteration of mercury was actually recorded to eight-track tape and uploaded to Bandcamp. That was the real beginning. It used to be on streaming, but I took it down because so much changed and I wanted to move forward differently. Since then, it’s gone through a lot of growth – different people playing, different periods of my life, even though I still mostly write alone. 

I’m very analytical and self-critical, so letting people into my writing world is hard. I’ve been able to do that with a small handful of people. I went to music college at Lipscomb University, and for a final project we were allowed to record at Sound Emporium. That’s where we recorded ‘I Don’t Know You Like I Used To.’ I went home afterward, retracted vocals, and added more production. That song came from a university project, but it was the first thing I wrote entirely on my own that really felt like me. After that, I went through a long period of darkness and depression where I couldn’t write at all. ‘Born in Early May’ was the first song I wrote after that, and I remember crying while writing it, thinking, finally. It felt like I’d unlocked a way of writing poetry that I could turn into music. ‘Crick’ and ‘Special’ came right after that, from the same emotional place. They poured out so quickly and purely. It was the most honest I’d ever seen. 

Do you still struggle from those emotional blocks in your writing?

Yes. I went through it again recently. It comes in waves. I get overwhelmed, and when that happens, I actually can’t listen to much music. Radiohead are my favourite band of all time, and they’re the only thing I can always listen to and feel inspired and calm. My listening minutes were insanely low for two years because I barely listened to anything else. 

It’s weird, but I feel like in order to be inspired, I sometimes have to stop consuming music entirely. Recently, I really struggled to sit down and write. I knew I needed some kind of creative reset, a renaissance moment, to break through it. 

Your music sits somewhere between indie rock, dreaminess, and heaviness, with your influences stretching from Mazzy Star to Deftones. How do those sounds come together when you’re writing?

It changes with every song. Sometimes I pick up an acoustic guitar and think, this feels very Elliott Smith. Other times I grab an electric and lean into something heavier. I think it’s less about genre and more about asking myself what I want to express that day. 

Do I want something heavy and raw where I’m screaming, or something soft and let-down? It always starts with emotion. Interestingly, a lot of my heavier songs begin on acoustic guitar. The sound comes later. 

Photo by Elizabeth Marsh

You’ve spoken about being drawn to the ocean, even though you grew up landlocked. How does that sense of longing or imagination show up in your songwriting?

I love the ocean deeply. My entire arm is covered in sea tattoos. There’s always ocean imagery in my writing, whether consciously or not. To me, water can be peaceful, but the deep sea is also dark, looming and scary. That contrast mirrors how I feel when life feels heavy.

It’s like being suspended in the middle of the ocean, unsure of what’s going to happen. There’s fear and paranoia, but also a strange calm. Being near the sea makes me introspective. I’ve always felt better there. Even as a kid, I was obsessed with ocean animals, checking out books from the library, going to aquariums for my birthday.

I think that’s why I love Radiohead too. Their music feels like it was born out of the ocean. I can’t fully explain it. 

Your latest single ‘Heaven’ comes after a run of very personal songs. What does this new chapter feel like for you musically and emotionally?

I love heavy, emotional music, both lyrically and sonically. Grunge, 90s alternative, what people might call indie now. That’s the space I want to live in, and it’s where I was with ‘Together We Are One, You and I.’

I always look back at ‘Crick’ and ‘Born in Early May’ as the emotional benchmark. Those songs still feel fresh to me, even years later, which is rare. ‘Heaven’ passed that same test. If it could live alongside those songs, I knew it belonged. 

You’ve already toured across the US and Canada, with more dates coming up next year. As a relatively new band, what’s been the most surprising or grounding part of being on the road? 

I love touring. I’m a homebody and introverted, but being on the road feels meditative. Everything moves so fast that you become a leaf in the wind. Your only job is to show up, play, and exist.

I try to document as much as I can, but journaling on tour is hard. I’ve never completed a tour where I journaled every day, but even reflecting later matters to me. I wish I’d documented my first tour more. That first tour is the most special one of your life. I hold those memories really close. 

Are there any artists you dream of collaborating with?

I have big, unrealistic dreams. Obviously Radiohead. Being anywhere near their world already feels like enough. I don’t think about collaborations too much, though. I love when things happen naturally, like when Flipturn reached out.

Right now, I love Dove Ellis. I read someone say he sounds like Thom Yorke and Jeff Buckley’s child, which feels accurate. I record in Asheville where bands like MJ Lenderman, and Indigo De Souza work, so honestly, I’m open. Anyone who wants to make something together should just contact me. I just love music!  Listen to mercury on Spotify, Apple Music, and SoundCloud and keep up to date with them on Instagram.