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.
Christopher Claxton
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.