Strandz, the Renaissance Man

For Strandz, everything changed with Us Against the World.

Earlier videos posted to TikTok showed off his production skills, or took viewers along on weekend baecations with his girlfriend and “muse” Lola, steadily nudging his like count into the millions. Then, a snippet of what would become his breakout single landed, and his world shifted.

Strandz was propelled into the Top 10 of the UK singles chart in March, with the track taking up residency in the Top 40 for nine weeks. While social media co-signs from homegrown heavyweights such as Skepta, Tion Wayne and Digga D – who jumped on the remix – certainly didn’t harm the buzz building around the 22-year-old, it was the track that struck a chord. Showcasing Strandz’s everyman charm, ear for melody (it opens with a sample of Smokey Robinson & The Miracles’ Who’s Gonna Take the Blame), 90s-referencing production (courtesy of longtime friend and producer Blueboy), and an affinity for wrapping vulnerable lyricism in a languid, diamond-clear flow, Us Against the World made it clear: Strandz had arrived.

Today, though, there’s little clue that Strandz is feeling the kind of pressure that often shadows such an arrival. It’s just after noon on an early September weekday, and he arrives with Lola – no entourage – for the Crack Magazine shoot in a north London industrial estate. He’s dressed for the weather in a white vest, and initially keeps his sunglasses on. As stylists and photographers scurry around, getting the space ready for his moment in front of the lens, Strandz sits in a quiet corner with me. It’s a rare moment outside of the studio. Since he released single J’Adore in April, he’s been hunkered down in the booth. “I’ve been experimenting,” he says, by way of explanation. “I promised myself that this year was about challenging myself as a musician and carving out the direction I want to take.”

The south Londoner, who was born in Germany and lived in Nigeria until the age of eight, has always harboured big ambitions. In person, he radiates a positive demeanour and a clarity of vision that is striking. The big brother to one younger sibling, he shoulders the responsibility that so many do: “I’ve gone so hard because I can change the way my little brother grows up.” He wants to keep going, too – already a multifaceted artist who can produce and engineer, his aim is to become a mastermind producer like Pharrell or Timbaland. “I’m all about refinement and bringing together the different elements like an executive producer,” he says, assuredly.

For now, though, Strandz has a fresh, forward-thinking vision for UK rap that draws on his intercontinental upbringing and deeply held love of noughties rap and R&B. Where his peers find commercial success as drill stars, he shares TikTok videos about defying his A&R’s wishes to go down that path. Instead, his music might transport you to the peak of the Murder Inc. era, his smooth, almost lovelorn flow recalling 50 Cent, Cam’ron, Juelz Santana, or a still very much single Jay-Z. He is comfortable both narrating the realities of life in “the gritty, grimy, south of London” – as he raps on J’Adore – and bolstering his ‘sweet boy’ image with abundant proclamations of love.

As a child raised across three countries and two continents, music was something of a constant. “Hip-hop felt like a reflection of my life growing up so it’s what I related to the most, but my ear has always been open,” he says, referring to the sociopolitical commentary of lyricists like Nas and A Tribe Called Quest, which resonated deeply with Strandz’s own journey navigating south London at the height of anti-drill propaganda in the 2010s. He also grew up listening to the floaty, multifaceted R&B of Jhené Aiko and Feist’s folky art-pop, the latter he credits his German mum for introducing him to. The rest of his inspiration came straight from his Nigerian dad’s CD collection: seminal New Yorkers like Mobb Deep, 50 Cent (of course) and Fat Joe. “The spirit of independence my parents have instilled in me is more important than any money or material things they could’ve given me,” he reflects. “The hunger to go and get it myself, to make the life I want.”

It took a while before Strandz seriously considered music as a viable career. After moving over from Nigeria with his family, the struggles of real life took precedence. “We had to start from scratch because we had nothing and were in a tough place. I felt it was an all-hands-on-deck situation that made me grow up a bit quicker,” he says, with a matter-of-fact shrug. Whether it was buying multipacks of cookies from the supermarket and reselling them for 50p each with a friend, or some other schoolboy scheme to make quick money, he was determined to lighten his parents’ load however he could. That meant he wasn’t afforded the luxury of dabbling in hobbies that wouldn’t lead to paid work. “I had to figure out what I wanted to do, fast – most people don’t have to worry about that until they’re about to leave college and need to decide whether they’re going to uni, or straight to work.”

Aged 14 and eager to get in the studio, Strandz had to work his own route in. Without any connections in the music industry, he worked off his own initiative, researching local studios and putting in the hours learning the role of audio engineer on the job. With his foot in the door, he started trying his luck on the mic. Around the same time, he won a place at the BRIT School after teaching himself piano for the entrance exam. Once in, he kept up his gruelling routine: “It was school, studio to work on other people’s music, then spend all night working on mine. Repeat. For years!” he laughs, shaking his head.

These days, Strandz is basking in the afterglow of his hard graft. Coming full circle, he won’t just be rapping on his upcoming project – he’ll be producing and engineering it himself, too. “I’m a perfectionist,” he winks. Although details are shrouded in mystery, Strandz is open about one particular influence: Fela Kuti. “The most important part of my music is being myself, breaking the rules and trying to make something new,” Strandz explains. “Music is medicinal and a form of escapism, so I’m conscious of not being preachy. But there are gems I need to leave in music that open people’s eyes and educate them.” After spending his formative years in Nigeria, it was only natural that he would turn to the Afrobeat pioneer for guidance – not just as a sonic innovator, but as a galvanising – and controversial – figure who used his music to narrate the political and social landscape of his surroundings, and always led with love for his country.

It’s undeniable that romance has also been a fountain of inspiration for the young rapper. Strandz’s bars and social media presence often put his relationship front and centre, free of fronting or fear of being seen as ‘soft’. “It’s nice to find somebody to do life with and grow with,” he says of Lola, who he met online. He smiles wryly as the conversation turns to his relationship. Although he appreciates questions about his girlfriend’s instrumental role in his creative life, it’s clear that he’s still private about his personal life. “She’s helped me navigate and adapt to the music industry and vice versa. Even if I didn’t do music, we would’ve done whatever I ended up doing together, supporting each other.” And they already do: Lola features in his music videos and works in music, DJing alongside her role at a major label.

Throughout the hour we spend together, I’m struck by Strandz’s openness and down-to-earth outlook. “I’m representing the normal guy in the group,” he jokes at one point. He has another personal mantra – being “fully lidge”, a shortening of ‘fully legitimate’ – a kind of awareness of being true to yourself rather than being shaped by your environment. “I’m not speaking down on the guys that are on road, or the music they make – I used to engineer their tracks!” he clarifies. Rather, it’s the self-knowledge that he can collaborate with artists who had different experiences to him without trying to be something he’s not. It’s a message he hopes his fans will take to heart. “I wish I had somebody telling me that I didn’t need to fit in to be respected. It’s cool to do your own thing, and your friends will respect you more.”

Strandz is still getting used to his new life and is wary of growing complacent or being distracted by the glitz of fashion shows and parties. “I’m a creative at the end of the day, so I see myself exploring other outlets like fashion. But right now I need to focus on being the best musician I can – I’m still at the beginning!” he laughs, keen not to box himself in. “I can’t define my direction right now, even though I’m finding it. I just know that I’m getting better at translating what’s in my head into music.”

He knows viral TikTok smashes come and go, but armed with the resilience of his childhood, his technical skills, and his ever-evolving flair on the mic, Strandz is here to make his mark. With an unflinchingly confident smirk, he lets me know: “I want to take this worldwide.”

J’adore is out now via Relentless Records