Christopher Claxton
There’s more than one way to be Momo Boyd. Like most people she’s a complex human who contains multitudes. She’s the naturally shy singer who can command a stage, the songwriter and producer helping shape Infinity Song’s sound, a solo artist discovering just how much of herself she can put into her own music, and when all of that is said and done she’s simply a girl with an infectious smile. Rather than choosing which version deserves the spotlight, Boyd is making room for all of them.
With her debut EP Miss Michigan, released in April, Boyd stepped into the spotlight as a solo artist, to continue to ride the wave of her scene-stealing appearance on Baby Keem and Kendrick Lamar’s “Good Flirts” earlier in the year. Momo had so many eyes on her, and used the attention as an opportunity to embrace and explore different sounds, perspectives and sides of herself. From the introspective songwriting of “American Love Song” to her fan favorite R&B track “Oops,” Boyd has consistently shown an ability to move between musical worlds without feeling confined to one.
What makes Boyd’s journey particularly compelling is not only is it just getting started but she’s never viewed her solo career as a departure from Infinity Song. Instead, both are essential to the artist she wants to become. While many musicians pursue solo careers after leaving their groups, Boyd is determined to build both identities simultaneously, finding fulfillment in the freedom of standing on her own and the familiarity of creating alongside her family.
We don’t see duality like this too often from artists — so I tasked myself with finding out just who Momo Boyd is when she’s alone, and when she’s in a group. In her conversation with Billboard, she discusses her complicated relationship with how people perceive her, working with Kendrick Lamar and Baby Keem, redefining what success looks like and her newfound family dynamics.
For Boyd, it’s not about choosing between two versions of herself. It’s about making room for both and she explores that sentiment with Billboard below.
I want to talk about two versions of Momo Boyd: the solo artist and the Momo we know as a member of Infinity Song. If I put those two versions of yourself in a room together, what would their biggest differences be?
I think the solo Momo would be 10 times more nervous. That is the defining emotion that I feel 99% of the time when I’m doing stuff by myself versus with my siblings because that’s something that I’ve known all my life. I feel such confidence, and there’s kind of a safety blanket with arriving and doing things with people that you have that sort of comfort with versus showing up alone.
Everything is on you. The way that you dress, your hair and all that different stuff, and the words that you say, that’s it. Every note that you sing, you’re the only thing that people are looking at. There’s not three other people to hide behind.
It’s been a little bit of a challenge. Obviously, I love attention, so there’s good, of course. But I’m also very sensitive, and I’ve been really shy all my life and a bit introverted, so having to step up in that way has maybe been a bit more of a challenge than I expected.
Do you think you’re naturally shy or you’re shy because of your homeschooling background?
I would say I’m naturally shy, I can’t really control it. It’s just genuinely natural, but if I sense a good vibe from somebody or if I feel comfortable with a group of people, then okay, the shyness goes out the window. But always, always shy first. it’s always been like that.
When you’re making music for yourself versus making music with your siblings, what changes first — your mindset, your writing or the way you use your voice?
I would say it’s the mindset. When you’re writing for a group of people, you have to be a little more cognizant of everyone, what everyone is willing to say and what resonates with everybody.
But when you’re literally doing only what you want to do, it’s two completely different mindsets. I think that mindset informs everything else, from how I sing to the lyrics I write. That’s the first thing I would say.
Is there a side of your personality that comes out more naturally when you’re making solo music than when you’re working with Infinity Song?
Yeah, I think I’m a bit more playful with my own stuff. I’m just like, “Who cares?” I can literally say whatever I feel like saying.
Do you feel like your solo music allows you to be more vulnerable, more experimental or maybe even a little more selfish creatively?
Definitely, a bit more selfish. there’s a little bit more responsibility when you’re writing for other people. When you’re a songwriter who’s writing for other people, you always have to put somebody else first or have them in the back of your brain. Not having to do that and being able to just hone in on literally what I’m feeling that day and that being it.
When you released Miss Michigan, what did you learn about yourself that you hadn’t fully realized while working within Infinity Song?
I feel like I was thinking, but I also wasn’t thinking, which was good. It’s why I was able to get so much done. I was just like, “I don’t really have time to be anxious, nervous or scared. I have deliverables. I want to get this music out. I want to ride this wave and give people an answer to the question, ‘Who is Momo Boyd?’”
There was a lot less back and forth, a lot less indecision, like, “Oh, I’m not sure about this.” Maybe that’s what I learned. I realized how ambitious I truly am. I was like, “Wait, I’m low-key scaring myself with how badly I want this.”
Which version of Momo do you think people would be more surprised to meet in real life?
Probably the shy version. I think people might have the impression that I’m super outgoing, self-confident and smiley — which I am, but the vibes have to be right.
Can you think of a specific song where that difference really shows up?
I think this was kind of funny, too, because of the way I present myself outwardly. I look super confident, which I am in certain ways, and I look like a star or whatever. I have that kind of look people look for in a hero-type person… But then some of the lyrics to my songs are super sad, so it’s less of a hero and more of a victim.
I saw some people saying, “I feel like I like ‘Oops’ a lot because Momo is typically more smiley and happy, and the song is smiley and happy….” And I’m like, “Well, you don’t really know me.” I feel like pretty much all of the songs touch on different sides of me. “Second Best” is from the perspective of feeling less than or not chosen or feeling like you have to change yourself to fit what somebody wants from you.
Even “Strong,” “American Love Song” and “Cold Hands,” I wouldn’t say these songs necessarily point to me being shy, but they speak to deep sensitivity, deep emotion, a lot of overthinking and anxiety… I think there’s been a bit of cognitive dissonance because people expect someone who writes songs like that to be super mousy. But it’s like, I actually contain multitudes.
We often see artists go solo after leaving a group, but you’re building your solo career while remaining an active member of Infinity Song. Why was it important to you to pursue both at the same time?
I want to continue. I feel invincible standing on stage with them, and I don’t want to give that up. I want to express myself in as many ways as I can without burning myself out or having to sacrifice one mode of expression for the other. I think both are equally important to me as a human being.
The same way I can be super loud, smiley and confident, but also sad, I can make a project like Miss Michigan and contribute to a soft rock project like Infinity Song. I always want to be able to do everything.
I also have a very specific dream for myself. There are some things I’m not going to do because they were never part of the ultimate dream. Some people have their own metrics for success and what success looks like for an artist, a singer, a woman or whoever, and that’s good for them. But my only metric is the dream I’ve had since I was a teenager. If it doesn’t feel like that or things start to fall away, then I have to reevaluate.
That’s always been the dream: to be able to stand on stage with my family, then stand on stage alone and kind of switch back and forth.
So what happens when you reach that dream? What do you do next?
That’s a wonderful question, because I feel like you always have to reevaluate your dreams. In a certain way, I’ve reached that dream this year. Obviously, it’s not the fullest interpretation of what that dream could look like — but if we want to be technical, I’ve been doing both at a high level, and getting recognized in both capacities.
So, I have to constantly go inward and ask myself, “Do I like how this feels? Do I want to take it to the absolute highest level of that representation?” And that’s been a little difficult to think about, because there’s more pressure than ever to deliver flawlessly. That’s something I’ve been thinking about lately, so I don’t really know if I have an answer.
And even beyond my own experience, I think this applies to everybody. Once you reach that proverbial finish line, life still goes on. You don’t die just because you’ve accomplished your goal. I think that’s always been something that’s difficult to reckon with throughout the history of artists and people in general.
I remember watching Bohemian Rhapsody and hearing Freddie Mercury’s character say something along the lines of, “It’s the lows. I don’t know what to do with the lows.” The highs make you feel invincible, but the lows remind you that life still goes on. You don’t just reach that high and that’s it.
I think that’s something you always have to find an answer for: finding a reason to reach that next high, or maybe deciding you don’t need to. Maybe you’re good with the one or two highs you’ve had. Right now, I just want to furnish my apartment.
Did you ever worry that stepping out on your own might change the dynamic with your siblings or the way people perceive Infinity Song?
I don’t know. I’m not too worried. All of my siblings are very supportive. Obviously, I have some diva moments, but I don’t really have those moments in the context of the band.
I’m super grounded. We know each other so well that there’s not really much to worry about. Of course, anything can change and anything is possible. With further developments, who knows? I can’t predict the future. But internally, I feel like we’re good on my front.
I’ve never really been a super high-maintenance person, to be honest. I just want to do the thing. Make the music, show up, be responsible, do a good job and make the art. So personally, I feel like I’m good.
In terms of public perception, I’m not worried about that either. I feel like I don’t really care. Maybe for a second I did, at the beginning of the year, when my visibility was higher than I was used to. But I realized that I actually kind of don’t care… Life really goes on. I’m still in the studio, I’m still doing these shows and I’m still waking up every day. I can just turn off my phone and it doesn’t exist.
Christopher Claxton
How have your siblings responded to seeing you step into your own spotlight? Has their support surprised you in any way?
They’re not super-involved in what I’m doing, because that was kind of the point I wanted to make from the beginning. I was seeking a level of individuality and independence, so I’ve been pretty hands-off about sharing a lot of what I’m doing. Surprisingly, people don’t expect that, but I tend to keep a lot of it to myself.
They’re always there with a cheering spirit, though, and I think that’s what’s most important. It’s not necessarily outward gestures, like, “We’re going to throw you a surprise party” — but the vibes are always right, if that makes any sense. It genuinely makes a world of difference. If the vibes were negative, I wouldn’t be able to live.
Anytime something comes up, they’re consistently like, “We’re rooting for you,” or “You got this.” There’s always a word of encouragement. There’s never an air of jealousy or anything like that. And that stuff is super easy to pick up on, so I would know. It would affect me greatly. I feel like that’s the most important thing, and they’ve been so good about always offering encouragement and positivity and never wanting me to hold myself back from anything.
Sometimes I’m the first one to say, “Wait, I don’t want to do something because I don’t want to step on anybody’s toes or make it about me.” And they’re like, “Shut up. Literally, just do it.”
You’re someone who has helped shape Infinity Song’s sound as a songwriter and producer. Does being a solo artist change the way you understand your role within the group?
I think my role remains the same. Sometimes it’s harder to operate at the capacity I used to because I’m so split between different things, both in terms of time and attention. But I feel like I’m maintaining the same role.
I don’t want to say I’m the rock. I wouldn’t put it that way. That’s actually one thing I might not be as much as I used to be. I used to be a rock in the group — not to toot my own horn — I was unmovable, always there. Anything that needed to happen, I would take it upon myself to make sure it got done.
These days, I’m so sorry, I can’t be a rock. I can’t even be a rock for myself. So that’s one thing I’d say has changed. Other people have had to step into that role.
When you’re producing for Infinity Song, how much of the final sound reflects your individual taste? And how does that change when you’re the artist making the final decisions?
It really varies. Sometimes it’s perfectly aligned with my taste, and other times I’m like, “I don’t really like this that much,” but everybody else is going crazy about it. So, I guess I’ve stumbled into something I’m not fully sold on, but everybody else likes it. It really just depends.
Growing up in a household where music was such a central part of your education, did you always see yourself as someone who would eventually have her own artistic identity?
Yeah, I did. I think all of us have always felt that way. Even though I’m doing solo stuff right now and the rest of my siblings in the band aren’t, we’ve always fully expected each other to pursue side projects or solo work at some point.
I’ve always thought that. It’s just a matter of when, where, what, how, why and who.
If someone listened to Miss Michigan and an Infinity Song record back-to-back without knowing you were involved in both, what would you want them to recognize as your creative fingerprint?
That it’s versatile. Even on Miss Michigan, there are a lot of different genres: country, folk, Americana, R&B, pop, indie and a little bit of rock. So even within that project, there’s a lot of versatility. The same goes for Infinity Song’s projects.
Versatility is the name of the game, at least for me and for us. It’s about being able to dip into anything you enjoy without limitations or feeling like you have to stick to one thing.
Miss Michigan arrived in April, and you’ve since reached new audiences through “Good Flirts” with Baby Keem and Kendrick Lamar. How has the response to your solo music changed your understanding of what this career could look like?
It’s so interesting. I feel like I’m always confused. I don’t know what anybody thinks about me. I mean, I know what people on the internet say, but in real life, I think it’s been interesting trying to measure the difference between real life and the internet because they’re not the same.
The internet informs so much of our lives, though, that it can feel like they’re the same. But I feel like I’ve been in a psyop. Even sitting here with you, I’ve been wondering, “What’s his perception of me?”
That’s what I’ve been contending with: the whole thing of it all. What’s going on? Why do so many people have so many different thoughts about me? Why will somebody say something negative about me online, then speak to me with such kindness in real life?
Best Part of this whole thing?
It was doing live shows solo for the first time. It was such a scary thing, but that experience showed me, maybe more than anything, how big I could be.
I think because so much of the process of releasing music, putting out content and doing a rollout happens online, it was hard for me to quantify exactly what was happening. But when I went on my first tour back in August, that was the first time I thought, “Oh, okay. I can see it. It’s right in front of me.”
These people are being impacted. They’re singing every song word for word. They’re fully engaged. The whole room is right there with me, rooting for me and walking alongside me. People are telling me how much “American Love Song” changed them and sharing all these other experiences.
That was the first time I could see the other side of all the work that goes into the internet, social media, being in the studio and putting together rollouts. I could see where it takes you: to those live shows and that direct interaction with people. And I realized I can really do this on a much bigger scale. I also learned a lot more about what I need to do to connect with people even further.
I feel like touring changed everything for me. I’m excited for whatever comes next because I have that knowledge now, and I didn’t necessarily have it before.
On a record with two artists as recognizable as Baby Keem and Kendrick Lamar, your vocal contribution became a defining part of the song. How did you approach finding your place on a record like that?
Honestly, when I recorded this almost a year ago, I was on tour with my siblings for our North American tour. I recorded it in Texas before one of our shows, and I was nervous out of my mind. I just wanted to do a good job.
Obviously, I was working with heavy hitters, some of the best people in their craft, so I was just trying to hit the target. I wasn’t trying to do too much. Whatever they wanted and whatever notes they gave me, I was going to take them humbly and implement them to the best of my ability. That was my entire mindset.
I wasn’t trying to pop my stuff, no. I was sitting in that chair like, “Oh, okay, got it. Let me write that down.” That was really where my head was at.
Did you know it was going to be a hit?
It’s a perfect song in many ways. It’s simple, but it’s relatable. It has this undeniable swag and flyness to it that’s not overbearing. It’s not trying too hard. I think it’s understated in a way that is very cool. It fits in so many different pockets of life as well. You could play it in a club, at a party, getting ready for anything, in a car.
It’s also kind of a love song a little bit. It’s not really a love song, but you can interpret it as one if you feel like it.
With “Oops” reaching the Top 15 on Billboard‘s Rhythmic Airplay chart, what has it meant to see your solo music connect with audiences in its own right?
Oh, that was really cool. I’m not gonna lie. I was so gagged. I was like, “What?” Because that’s not a given. Obviously, nothing’s a given, especially in the music industry. You’re on a song and it does well, but it could be a one-week moment, a two-week moment, and then that’s it. People forget about you.
And I was like, “I will do anything for that not to be the case,” which is why I was an extreme workaholic, and I was fighting to get that project out with every cell in my body. But to see the song rising, because I think it first entered at number 36 or something, 35, and then it was climbing. Then it was number 20, and then it was 15.
I was like, “Are you sure this is real?” But I felt proud, and it made me wanna do it again, but go even further and get to the actual Hot 100. That’s my next goal. Fingers crossed.
The fact that it was a song with no other feature, nothing. It was just me. I was like, “Wait, somebody put some respect on my name really quickly.”
When you’re not performing, writing or producing, who is Momo when nobody needs anything from her creatively?
I am just imagining the day when that is a reality. Honestly, it really hasn’t been my reality since the beginning of the year, so it’s kind of hard to say. But I will say I am on Facebook Marketplace looking for furniture.
I am sleeping in until I literally feel like it. I am eating a lot of things that I shouldn’t necessarily be eating. And I’m with my friends, staying out until 4:00 a.m., just literally talking about Lord knows what and going to the movies in the middle of the day. Just all the stuff that I don’t necessarily have time for in the day-to-day. That’s what I’m doing.
But also, to be fair, I’m planning the next creative thing. And some of the workaholic tendencies, the burnout is really my fault because even if I have a day off, I’m like, “Why do I have a day off? I have to take advantage of this year. What am I doing? I need to be in the studio, next project, next single. I need to be shooting.”
So honestly, if I’m being super honest, I’ll only allow myself to indulge in the late nights and sleeping in for a couple of days before I’m like, “What’s next?”
What has this year taught you about the kind of artist you want to become over the next five years?
When you’re not as deep in it, it’s so easy to be like, “I wanna do this, this, this, this, that and the third.” Because you don’t really know the reality of what it takes, what it will take from you in your life and what it will cost.
This year was beautiful, but it was a humbling experience and very educational. It showed me the nuance of this lifestyle and this industry, and doing it for real, in a very genuine capacity. I feel like I am redefining some of my goals and some of my dreams. I know I’m gonna be working forever, which is a blessing in my eyes, to be able to work creatively for a really long time. It’s not a given because you can stop getting the funding, you can stop having the will, the drive, the ambition.
And now?
I wanna be a lot more intentional about how I’m working. Because I want it to continue to be enjoyable, and I wanna continue to have fun. I think last year I wasn’t concerned with that. Before any of this, I was just like, “I don’t care about fun. I just wanna be a star. And I just wanna be popular and famous and have everybody sing my song…” And now I’m like, “okay, well, those things happened, and you need to be able to enjoy it. Otherwise, you may as well live just a normal life.”
And when people say that, I think people smirk or scoff at that. Like, “That’s not true. Why would you give up being famous and having everything at your fingertips for a normal life?”
But for the first time ever, I’m understanding a lot of things about famous people. I’m like, y’all, I understand the addictions, no shade. I understand the anxiety. I understand being willing to give it up and walk away.
You really do have to be intentional if you want it to resemble anything that’s enjoyable and catered to yourself, your soul and your heart. You really do have to be intentional.
If this chapter of your career is about learning to hold space for both versions of yourself, what do you hope the next chapter allows you to do?
I don’t really wanna switch it up too much in its framework. I feel like in two years I’m gonna be a really big star.
And life is so funny because you would think, if I saw myself last year, looking at myself this year, I’d be like, “No, this is your year. You’re a star.” But there really are levels to it, and with anything, people have to get to know you. People have to learn to trust you in the public eye. People have to buy into what it is that you’re selling, and you have to consistently be feeding people work that matters to them. That takes time.
I mean, who knows? I could literally have a hit tomorrow if I put one of my snippets on TikTok. But even with that, it still takes time to permeate the general population. I don’t really wanna switch things up too much… I personally don’t really like when somebody is just getting introduced to the world, and then they think it’s time to switch things up and cut off all their hair or something.
I’m like, “No. Only a fraction of people, no matter how big it feels in my life, even know I exist.” I have two years of grueling hard work and foundation-laying before I will probably see the stardom really roll in… and that’s for me and for Infinity Song.
The next chapter is doing it again, but better. Doing it again, but with more information. Doing it again and reaching further and taking it further.
Christopher Claxton
