Cementing herself as an unwavering sex symbol, Shygirl is not slowing down anytime soon. Anticipated projects and live performances have made the London artist a figure to watch. Informing a new age of dance music fusing hyper-pop, house, and hip-hop, Shygirl stands at the helm. While “CLEO” curves our collective hunger, keep your eyes on Shygirl.
Watch the music video for “CLEO” below.
Coat and jacket by KIDSUPER, top by ZEGNA, pants by BURBERRY, sunglasses by GENTLE MONSTER, jewelry is BOJ’s own.
Gianni Lee— What do people call you? What do the fans call you?
BOJ— My fans call me Bolaji, some people call me BOJ.
Do you like one better?
Bolaji or BOJ. I don't mind.
Can you explain your heritage and your tribe?
I'm Yoruba; that's my tribe. I live in Lagos, but my family comes from Ogun State, from a place called Sagamu.
How did that impact your music and your growth in music?
So I grew up in Lagos, which is like fast life. It’s very, very chaotic — almost like New York. I was born in London, which is another chaotic place. I feel like that blend of Nigerian tradition and the Western influence of London just comes together. I feel like it has an impact on my sound, and I feel like it has an impact on my fashion as well.
Do you feel that your Nigerian upbringing keeps you centered?
So when you're Nigerian, it's like you're born with a sense of pride already. Wherever you go in the world, you know where you're from, and you hold onto that.
Coat by LOEWE, sweater and cardigan by PAUL SMITH, sunglasses by GENTLE MONSTER, jewelry is BOJ’s own.
How do you feel about New York City?
I fuck with New York. I fuck with it!
How does it make you feel when you are here?
If I’m being honest, like in America in general, I'm always on edge. You see so many things on TV, you hear about so many things that happen here, so I just feel on edge. But I would say there’s a lot of culture here. It’s multicultural, and I vibe with that. That’s one of the reasons I like London as well.
What I like about London is people are going to tell you what it is. I see people always debating, having arguments outside.
You know what's crazy? I feel like in America, people are more straightforward and blunt, whereas in the UK, it’s more polite.
Polite, like political almost?
Yeah, like, “I'm afraid I can't let you in.” Like, what do you mean you're afraid? So I get to the club and they’re like, “I’m afraid…” you know? Whereas in America, it’s more like, “Get the fuck out of here!”
What's your favorite dish in New York?
To be honest it's African food, man. I like Chick-fil-A too… It's not bad!
Chick-fil-A is good. The chicken has a lot of flavor in it. Have you ever had some Southern fried chicken, like soul food?
Not yet.
You need a good Southern Black restaurant and get some good hearty soul food! If you could bring anything from London or Nigeria to get a good American twist what would it be?
Just food, just food! If Nigerian food was accessible, this place would be perfect. You know about this restaurant called Lagos? That's the only one I know about.
Top by OFF-WHITE, shorts by KENZO, boots by DIESEL, socks by CALVIN KLEIN, sunglasses by A BETTER FEELING, jewelry is BOJ’s own.
Who are some of your musical idols?
So, my musical idols were all discovered when I was younger, like way younger. When I used to move around with my parents — I was an only child for 9 years — I just listened. I used to like Wyclef, Sean Paul, Tracy Chapman, Toni Braxton... all these people. That's who my parents used to listen to, so naturally, I got influenced by that.
I love Toni Braxton. Why her in particular? Did you find her interesting as a kid, or was it just because your parents were playing her?
It’s both. It was my mom listening to her, and me thinking she was a dude. Her voice was so strong. I remember this argument with my mom when I was a kid in the car. I was arguing with her, saying, "This is a guy singing," and she was telling me, "No, it’s not, it’s Toni Braxton." And I was like, "Her name is Toni Braxton — that's a guy's name!" Her voice was so strong! Then, a couple of years ago, maybe like three years ago, she came to Lagos, and out of nowhere bro she just goes on Instagram to make a video and she's singing my song. Imagine that! That's crazy, that's crazy! She's there singing my song, and then she's like, “This is one of my favorite artists from Africa.” I was like, "what the fuck?"
You grew up on her!
I grew up listening to her, and then she was right there. The show she came for, I actually went with a friend. She’s an artist as well, Tiwa Savage. She was performing at the same event, so I went there to meet her. I saw Toni Braxton perform, and then the next day, that whole thing happened on Instagram. Our teams linked up, and now we’re trying to make music.
Do you ever think about the impact of your music when people listen to it?
I really don't care to know what people think about it or what they don't think about it. That's the truth. I don't care to know their opinions; this is just my way of expressing myself. What I want people to take away is that, as a human being, you can express yourself freely without boundaries, no matter what it is. That's what I want people to feel when they see me. I come from a place where I was expected to be a doctor or accountant or something like that, but that's just not me, you know? I followed what I wanted to do, and I feel like everyone should be confident enough to do the same, whether you're scared, have doubts, or whatever. If you have a passion or love for something, try to make that your bread and butter.
Coat by CASABLANCA, top by PAUL SMITH, pants by ZEGNA, jewelry is BOJ’s own.
What does brotherhood mean to you?
Brotherhood, to me, just means loyalty. It means love. Unconditional love.
I ask that because you were part of a group.
I still am!
How do you pronounce it? DRB? What's the full name?
Double R Boys. Before I joined, before it was anything, it was two of my boys, Benzo and Fresho. They were rappers at the time, so it was like ‘Rap Royals’. The first ‘R’ is from ‘Rap’ and the second ‘R’ is from ‘Royals’. That's ‘Double R’, so that's what it is; Double R Boys.
How did you get your first big break? What got you guys to your audience? Were you doing this on your own?
Still doing it on my own... But yeah, we were doing it ourselves back in school, sending it via email to our friends. Remember when MSN was popping? That's how we used to share the music. I was just recording, and we'd send it out to our friends. There were a bunch of high schools that were all kind of interconnected, and suddenly the music started spreading between schools.
They would just play the songs on their phones?
Yeah, played on their phones, you know. Play it at parties. Send it to their friends like, “look at these guys that we know doing music.” That kind of shit.
So when did you first realize that this is really going to hit? Was it one certain song that you sent and it spread to the schools faster?
So yeah, it was one song we did. It used to be mostly remixes of songs we did, like "Bedrock" and "Champion". Then we made an original song, and it was an Afrobeat song. Most of the people who connected with it were Nigerians or Africans in general. So that particular song had everyone going, “What the fuck?!” And this was at a time when it wasn't even cool to listen to Afrobeats or be an Afrobeat artist.
Why?
Because it just wasn't cool. We didn’t identify with it. A lot had been stripped away from us, and you weren't that proud to be African before. I'm talking about around 2009. It was like, you were proud, but you kind of suppressed it when you were in the Western world. So at that point, doing that was kind of crazy — like, wow! Everyone actually connected with it, so we just kept it going.
So what happened from there? When did you get signed?
Nah, I’m not signed at all.
Oh, all independent?
Yeah! I have distribution, but yeah.
Jacket, top and pants by HERMES, sunglasses by CELINE, jewelry is BOJ’s own.
How instrumental do you think YouTube was to your rise? Through the group and as a solo artist?
I feel like with the group, we started calling each other ‘Alté guys’, which means you're left of center. It was like saying you're doing things differently. So we started saying, "I'm Alté, I'm Alté." Next thing you know, it's now a subgenre in the African music space, in the Afrobeat space in general — something that has been recognized worldwide.
You coined this phrase?
Yeah, we coined that term. My guy Teezee, my boy, one of my closest friends — he's also in DRB – he's always making up slang. He was the one who just started saying, "Alté." It was him, TK, and FJ. When you see someone dressed extra extravagantly, you know, it's like, "That guy's Alté."
How do you feel about being called the Godfather of Alté?
Eh. It's cool, it's cool. I don't really…..It’s whatever, man. It is what it is.
How do you feel about people that might get inspired by the sound or copy it?
I feel like that's why we're here. That's the one new thing that we brought, and it gives me pride when I see people trying to imitate something that I'm doing. It just means I'm doing something cool. A lot of people get pissed off when others imitate them, but I feel like imitation is the best! It's like a form of flattery, right? It's a compliment.
Shirt, pants and tank top by DSQUARED2, boots by DIESEL, sunglasses by A BETTER FEELING, jewelry and hat are BOJ’s own.
It was announced on June 12th, 2023, that the Recording Academy added a new category called ‘Best African Music Performance’. It states that Alté is eligible to be included, which means nominees will no longer be limited to genres such as Afrobeats. How do you feel about this?
I think that's good! I think it's great to get recognized on a global scale because that's like the most popular platform for world music. I think that's dope, man. Shout out to them for being more inclusive and all that.
I think fashion is a key staple in African culture, definitely in Nigeria. Where do you see Nigerian fashion going in the next five to ten years and are you gonna be a part of it?
I'm one hundred percent going to be a part of it. I can only see it getting better, bigger. Yeah, there's a whole bunch of African and Nigerian designers that are doing crazy things right now, like worldwide you know. I think it's fucking dope.
What's a typical day like for you in Nigeria?
Mostly, I'm at home recording music. I go to the beach a lot. Every weekend I go to the beach. But during the week, if I don't have any meetings or shows, I'm at home in the studio. Every once in a while, I do go out, but not too much.
Coat and jacket by KIDSUPER, top by ZEGNA, pants by BURBERRY, shoes by CAMPERLAB, sunglasses by GENTLE MONSTER, jewelry is BOJ’s own.
Tell me more about your new project, 12 Summers.
I've been in the game for twelve years. I've been doing music professionally for twelve years, and it's like a celebratory album, basically. I'm just happy with where I am in life andI'm looking forward. This is the twelfth summer, and I was about to drop it in the summer. It’s like a summer-y album.
Do you feel like it's a culmination of everything you’ve done thus far, or do you feel like it's a rebirth?
I always feel like every time I drop something, it’s a reintroduction. I’m always trying to elevate each time, so yeah, you could say that.
You have thirteen tracks on the album. Was that intentional?
It was meant to be twelve. I wanted it to be twelve. But then I did one more song with a guy called Blanco from the UK, who I recently found out about. I was such a big fan that I tried to get him on a song. I reached out kind of late, but he sent his verse back in time. There was another song on the album that I was planning to replace if Blanco's verse came back, but I still loved the other song so much that I was like, ‘no, thirteen is fine.’
What's your favorite song off the album?
Right now? Today, it's "Borderline" featuring Cruel Santino. It's just the one I've been vibing with the most lately. I've been around America, doing a lot of listening and launch events, and hearing everything loud — that’s the one that's always [my favorite.]
Tell me how Shirt came together after All Day Gentle Hold!? It’s hitting for me right now because it sounds like you’re returning to your childhood and there are these very funny lyrics, like this blend of innocent schoolyard talk and heavier, real-world contemplations.
Porches— I started a couple of songs while I was waiting for All Day to come out, but most of it was written right after the tour we did with All Day Gentle Hold!. On that tour, we turned everything up. It was the first tour post-COVID, so everything about it felt miraculous and crazy. The live energy from that is what became Shirt. I was screaming and the audience seemed to respond to the more dissonant or heavier parts, which I was surprised by because most of the Porches’ stuff is vibier — at least the last three or four records have been pretty smooth. After the tour, I was less afraid to have it feel more unhinged and boiling over, tapping into these darker, creepier thoughts, sounds, and melodies.
I had to remind myself to stick to the plot — it was a weird place to inhabit for that long. Sometimes I’d listen back and be like, “Oh this is kind of a lot, am I really making this record right now?” But at the same time, I think it’s good to feel uncomfortable and to take a risk. To me it was important to not dilute it — I didn’t want to fuck it up.
It felt like a coming-of-age album, in a sense. Even listening to you now. There’s one song on the album, “Precious”, that I like a lot. You sing about the sky, which is so unpredictable. There can be a really clear sky and all of a sudden a storm and lightning will barge in, or fuck, a hurricane. The whole album feels eerily reflective of growing up and learning to accept the freakish nature of every day.
There are some very naive, awe-inspiring things about the sky, and I feel like it inspires the same awe in adults — maybe just in a different way. On the album, there’s this push and pull with innocence, embodying these more childlike emotions but also being aware that it gets lost in some way, or not what one thought it was — wishing that I could see the world in the same way and struggling with the fact that I can’t. The more I talk about the album, the more I notice all these things at odds with each other, even sounds and genres that contradict each other.
What were you listening to while making the album?
I mean I was listening to Nine Inch Nails and Nirvana like I did as a teenager. I was trying to make essentially a rock album, but that sounds enough where it felt really familiar with some breaks that create this tension. I feel like it started with "Rag," "Sally," and "Precious" being sort of the heavier songs. At a certain point, I was so tweaked out that I was living in the world of Shirt and I made "Voices In My Head," which is sort of like a pop-punk anthem thing. I sort of imagined that song existing in this world, characters in the world of “Shirt” would listen to that song on the radio. Even though it was a little different than the other thing.
Tell me about this world you envisioned. Where did you record it, and did that help you escape into it?
Well, I think I got really caught up in this record. I've been renting a studio in Soho and it’s the first time I ever had a space outside of my apartment. It's in the basement beneath this cobblestone street, with no windows, underground. I honestly think that location had a huge effect on the themes and just being underground, stuff sounds different down there, like the bass. I could turn it up loud down there.
You could probably scream a lot.
I could scream. Yeah, I didn’t have to worry about the neighbors.
That probably felt good. I haven’t heard you scream like that on your past couple of records.
Not in a long time. Once I moved to New York, I ended my screaming career, which was cool, it made room for a lot of softer stuff. But yeah, I was closed off from the world down there, I had the space to dig deeper, to not see my bed or my mail or my taxes or the street or anything. I was crazily left to my own devices — it felt like a demented playground or something.
I like to obsess over stuff and being in this space I got to spiral and get lost, so I guess that’s what I mean by inhabiting this “world” I was making… it’s not a concept album, but I feel like it has traces of that sort of feeling. That’s how I listen to it at least, it feels like a very different world than my day-to-day.
Yeah, it's really experimental, but I don't think it sounds like another world. It doesn't throw me off that you move between genres and sounds. I want to say it's sassy, bringing all of these elements together that come with growing up, how things change, and how the way you look at things changes. Those core feelings are there and you capture that well, but there’s also this reluctance to be as emotive with age.
Yeah. It's less appropriate to act out or do something.
On my first listen, I imagined you performing “Rag”, I feel like that’d be fun to experience in a crowd. What do you think the energy will be like for your upcoming tour in October?
I'm super excited. I mean I was also thinking about how it’ll sound live, the strobe lights hitting, being full of teenage energy and lost in the music. Again, it’s weirdly this post-COVID thing, to never be taken for granted again, how special it is to play live music. For a while, it was easy to get super lost and not think about the live show, which required more attention to the audience. I felt a return to that raw, tongue-in-cheek, snarky, and grabby energy, which felt good. I do think it’s what you were saying… what was it? Sassy?
Another thing you do really beautifully across all of your albums is your songwriting. It’s like liner after liner, and in this album, it's cool because you're still really vulnerable, pushing back in a different way sonically.
I think it had to do with feeling more confident as a songwriter. A big part of it is accepting that I have all of these emotions. I felt allergic to watering stuff down, the uglier, weirder things most people feel from time to time. I try to learn about them by singing and presenting it in a cheekier way. I feel like that's where it grew with the lyrics. They had always been abstract and not meant to be taken literally. I feel like that goes for this one too. There’s still not one story or one thing I'm trying to say, but I do feel more honest with myself. I’m not omitting the darker side of things or trying to keep it all inside. Truly feeling like a maniac sometimes, I’m not just plugging my ears and telling myself that I don’t have these weird demented thoughts.
We all have the weird uglies, and part of growing up is — hopefully — releasing the fear of judgment. It sucks to feel suffocated, because the feelings always finds a way out, and if you’re not committed to it, when they do, you’re stuck watching this weird half-living creature breathe.
Yeah, one hundred percent. That's sort of the goal with each record, to be a little more honest with myself or share as much as I can with the next, even if it feels over the top, or borderline inappropriate. Something felt necessary. Even to make a sixth album, when in reality it’s the 20th album that I’ve made. I know that I have to keep finding new ways to excite myself, and there were moments where I would surprise myself with what came out of my mouth, or what my voice was doing. Those were the moments that drove record. It felt good to keep myself on my toes.
The last song, “Music”, is such a beautiful end to the album. It folds into itself and expands. You can hear yourself soften and explore, and it makes me feel like I’m in the room with you. You let yourself play and this lyric “let the music take control” — It feels like it took control of you, vessel-style.
Yeah, I felt that way with that song too. I weirdly cried when I wrote it. I had the first verse, and I was playing piano slowly, and it slowly came into place and I was like, “Oh… this is insane.” It’s definitely an emotional song, and I felt like it could only be the last song — like the first song, “Twisted World” kind of set the opposite tone.
For me, the whole record feels like a fever dream, a fantasy. You’re not sure what’s real or fake the entire time until the music crashes down. It’s obviously a very personal song, but I feel like if you didn't know me or Porches, in the context of Shirt, it works in a different way. Maybe you’re not a rock star, but a fireman, an astronaut, or a baseball player — some really cliche American dream thing. I see the smoking ashtrays and empties around [laughs], which to me felt like a nice way to ground it at the very end. Something really personal at the end of a manic episode of a record.
Real, and that translates. I cried. The album’s length feels perfect too. I’ve listened to it in full each time. I take it on walks.
That’s awesome, I’m excited. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever. The single release has been the longest rollout we’ve ever done. I can’t wait for it to speak for itself, because I feel like the people that I’ve talked to all get it in different ways. But yeah, it’s meant to be digested together, it’s like 23 minutes — I’m glad that it's not just another stinking Porches album.
Is that how you were feeling?
No, but I feel like there's a point in the cycle where I question everything, where I’m like, This never needs to be heard by a soul. I almost pulled the plug. It was mixed and mastered, and I didn’t talk to my label — I was talking to my girlfriend, I was like I don’t know if this can come out, which I feel like always happens in some capacity when I realize that I'm going to share something with people. You’d think I’d be prepared to make music for so many years, but there’s still no preparation for the moment it goes on Spotify. I wasn't worried that I made just another Porches record, I was worried that I made some sort of monstrosity, but I think that's part of what the album is. It’s ear candy in a different way. It's like you can’t sit back and relax.
No, it’s an album that makes me feel like I want to run and thrash around. A lot of my favorite music makes me feel like I'm in transit, spiritually or physically. These songs do that.
It’s like anti-stagnancy or something, that’s what I’m trying to stay as far away from as possible. Sleepy, bummed out, or in your head; I wanted this to be more physical.
Embodied.
I think the words help awaken your body and your brain. I wanted to get twisted too. I wanted to do all these house shows, and it ended up boiling down to this one show in Jersey last week. It's this 4-year-old DIY space with a one-inch stage. Playing the new songs in there was the best feeling I've had in so long. Finally, all the yelling and imagining people in a room, a band playing these crazy songs. It was a time capsule, from like 2013 or something. I’ve kind of been longing for that, whatever that restlessness is.
Like a rawness. I feel like for a while I’d be in these spaces where I’m like, "Why is nobody moving?" There's this weird lack of environment, I’m not sure, sometimes I just want to be sweat on.
With the first record, Pool, I really wanted people to move, and then I did all the slower, less energetic stuff. Now, it’s weird, but I had the same thought, I wanted people to feel the energy of sweating and bumping into each other, squeezing into a space. It feels more resonant now because it is raw. It’s just a different time. It made sense then and makes less sense now. Too much shit is going on.
Well, as we move through the world, we become increasingly exposed to all these shifting contexts. Even when we’re influenced by these worldly experiences, you’re still, as an artist, ultimately weaving together your individual experiences and way of interpreting it all. It moves through you and out. You’re always you. Just different times.
Right. I've been lucky that I haven't been typecast into one sound relentlessly, and made something significantly different than the thing before. It's nice to express myself and get to explore different sounds and ideas nonstop while making music. Commercially, it would be in my best interest to pick a lane and stay in it or something, but no. It’s fulfilling creatively. I feel really lucky.
