I don’t make music to chase trends or views: Raghu Dixit

He is the man who made folk music feel like a festival, raw and rooted. Raghu Dixit, the Bengaluru-born singer-songwriter whose soulful compositions have resonated across living rooms and concert stages alike, has spent decades carving out a sound that is unmistakably his own. From the soaring romanticism of Banjara to the wistful wanderlust of Ambar, from the playful irreverence of Shugal Laga Le to the breezy charm of Bewakoofiyaan, his music has a way of making you feel at home in your own skin. Trained in Bharatanatyam, schooled in microbiology, and shaped by the rich oral traditions of Indian folk, Raghu Dixit defies easy categorisation, and that, perhaps, is precisely his power. We sat down with the artist to talk about music, marriage, mental health, and his deeply moving new release, Amma. Excerpts...Before music became your full-time identity, you studied microbiology. Was there a defining moment when you realised science was no longer enough and music was where you truly belonged? I don’t think there was one dramatic turning point. Music was always present in my life, even while I was studying microbiology. Over time, I realised that whenever I was creating or performing music, I felt completely alive. Alive in a way nothing else made me feel. Eventually, that feeling got the better of me (smiles). You trained in Bharatanatyam for nearly 18 years. How has that discipline shaped the way you compose, perform, and even understand rhythm and storytelling today?Bharatanatyam gave me discipline long before music became my profession. When you train in classical dance for that many years, you develop a deep respect for rhythm, structure, discipline, practice. Even today, I think a lot of that you see and hear on my stage comes from dance. Bharatanatyam teaches you that emotion is not just expressed through words, it actually lives in the space between them. That understanding continues to shape everything I create. You’ve created a distinct space for yourself in independent music, while also working in film and Bollywood. How differently do you approach composing for cinema versus creating music purely as Raghu Dixit?In films, you are telling someone else's story. Which in turn is a sum total in a way of their life experiences. The song has to serve the story, the character, the emotion of that particular moment on screen. Whereas independent music is your own, its you, its your story. It comes directly from your own experiences, questions, and emotions. I enjoy both because they challenge different parts of me creatively. One teaches collaboration and restraint, the other allows complete honesty and freedom. In good measure they are both incredibly satisfying pursuits.Over the years, you’ve spoken openly about dealing with creative blocks and mental health struggles. How has that journey evolved for you, and what has it taught you about sustaining creativity without losing yourself in the process?For a long time, I thought creativity had to come from constantly pushing yourself. But eventually I realised that if you don’t take care of yourself emotionally and mentally, the creativity also suffers. That difficult phase taught me the importance of slowing down, being kinder to myself. Staying content is an incredibly hard thing to do. It just doesn't happen. You must make it happen. And when you do, art flows effortlessly; it’s no longer a task. Today, I think the music that comes from me is far more honest because of that.In an age of viral trends and fast music consumption, you’ve continued to stay rooted in folk influences and live instrumentation. Do you ever feel pressure to reinvent yourself for newer audiences, or has authenticity always been your biggest compass?I think evolution is important, but it has to happen naturally. Not to satisfy a trend or chase hapless views. That’s not my jam. Folk music and live instrumentation are not aesthetic choices for me, they are deeply connected to who I am and where I come from. Audiences may change, platforms may change, but honesty in music always finds its audience eventually. I make music to satisfy myself, my own creative itch, if people like it too, its a welcome bonus.You married Grammy-nominated singer and flautist Varijashree Venugopal last October. How has sharing life with someone who deeply understands music and artistry influenced you personally and creatively?Vari is of course a great artist but she is the greatest companion. Ever. Period. Her work reflects in her life, her being. And its an honor indeed to be a part of that. Vari is an extraordinary human being with immense depth, and being around that kind of artistry is always inspiring. Her world is very different from mine and I think it’s that juxtaposition that makes things so much interesting and ceaselessly inspiring for both of us. Your newest release ‘Amma’ - what was the emotional or musical starting point behind the song, and what part of it feels most personal to you?The song began from a very quiet but deeply painful realization - that I had forgotten to acknowledge my mother while speaking about the people who shaped my life. That moment stayed with me for a long time. Musically, I wanted ‘Amma’ to feel intimate and unguarded, almost like a conversation, and admission of sorts rather than a performance. The most personal part of it is probably its honesty. It comes from a very real place. Over the last few days we have played it to all kinds of people young and old across the world across cultures and languages and tastes in music. One thing that ran cohesively across all was that they had a tear. It's not because of the song alone, it's the emotion. Mother means the same to us all and somewhere deep down and the things I said in the song are the things we all want to say to our mothers. It is the most personal and the most universal at the same time.