Interview by Liesje Verhave | Photography by nothing_._yetTYSON has always existed in a musical space of her own, one where alternative textures meet an R&B sensibility, and where collaboration feels as instinctive as solitude. We connect with her to discuss her featuring on Sam Akpro’s new single “Wayside”, The release follows a steady run of celebrated work, from her 2024 CHOAS EP to collaborations with artists such as Leon Vynehall, Dean Blunt and Coby Sey, as well as her recent appearance on Yazmin Lacey’s “Water.” Alongside her music, TYSON continues to build community through Ladies Music Pub, the London-based collective she co-founded to support women and gender-nonconforming people in the industry.In this conversation, TYSON reflects on the making of “Wayside”, the evolving nature of collaboration, and how her creative process is shifting, shaped by new environments, new experiences, and the realities of motherhood.We wanted to connect with you because of the release of the new single by Sam Akpro “Wayside” that you featured on. How was it working on that tune, and what was the process like when he first shared it with you?For me, it wasn’t an unusual process, but it was a different one. He had already started the song, not in its finished form, but enough to have an early version - and then he thought of me to feature on it. A lot of the features I’ve done have either been someone featuring on my work or us starting something from scratch together. So it was really nice that he had already begun something and thought I could add to it.I came down to the studio, heard the early version, and we just started trying things out. It ended up being quite an eventful day. I had sketched out some ideas and was about to record when the fire alarm went off. At first, there were sirens and lots of people everywhere, but both Sam and I were very chill and didn’t think it was serious. Then his friend, who was helping produce, was like, “No guys, I think something’s actually happening.” It turned out the building next door was really on fire. Everyone was okay, but we had to run down the stairs. I even had my coffee with me because I really thought it wasn’t a big deal. Then I looked over and saw flames coming out of the side of the building. So for quite a calm song, it was definitely a dramatic afternoon.Did the eventful afternoon influence how the song ended up? Definitely, it added to the energy, and it’s a good story. It’s funny because the song itself is so calm, but the day we made it was the complete opposite.You mentioned that Sam picked you for the tune and that this collaborative process was a bit different from how you usually work. Can you talk about how your collaborations usually come about, and what made this one unique?A lot of the people I’ve collaborated with are friends. I didn’t know Sam Akpro before we met to do this. Someone like Coby Sey is a long-term, consistent collaborator, and because we’re friends, the process usually starts there and then we make something from scratch. Working with Leon Vynehall was similar, we knew each other, but became closer while working together, and we made something from scratch for his project.Most of the people I’ve worked with, especially in London, I’ve met through music scenes, partying, and mutual friends. I like that process, because you get to feel someone’s vibe first. Usually, by the time we make something, there’s a sense of how it’s going to go because you’ve met each other beforehand.Since having my daughter in 2024, though, I’ve done more sessions that have been set up through my publisher and management. That means I’m often meeting people for the first time in the studio, which is very different. This song is part of that era, but it felt aligned with the way I’ve worked before because Sam and I come from a similar world, and our music fits well together. If we hadn’t met through the song, I think we would have met very soon anyway.How has meeting people for the first time in the studio and immediately working on a song influenced you as an artist?I’ve learned a lot from those sessions. I really wanted to write more for other artists, and it lets me use my creativity in a different way. I love lots of different styles of music, but I don’t necessarily want to perform all of them myself, so it’s a nice way to experiment with different genres and writing styles.I haven’t done many writing camps, but I did one in Sweden for women and non-binary artists, producers, and writers. I was there as a writer, and I think those spaces are a good exercise in just going into a room and making things. It’s less about ego and more about being open. Quite a lot of what we made had a bunch of people on it, and only later did you start thinking about who it was for.I think those sessions are a bit like blind dates. It’s always good to start by talking for a bit and listening to some music together if you’ve never met. Sometimes it’s nice to just see what happens, but sometimes it also helps if there’s some intention from the start — whether that’s for someone’s album, or for your own project — so you don’t get to the end and think, “I’m not actually sure I’d put this out.”How was your experience participating in the writing camp in Sweden, especially since you grew up there for part of your life? Do these different cultural experiences inform your work?Definitely. It was actually really interesting to go back there in that context. I lived in Sweden from age 15 to 20, and also spent quite a lot of time there in my early 20s. The last time I properly lived there, I was around 26, and I remember thinking, “That’s it — I know I don’t want to live here again.” I knew I wanted to spend time there, but I also knew my soul didn’t really belong there.So I stopped going as much, and a lot of my experiences there are rooted in youth. But in recent years, I’ve gone back more for work, and that’s been really interesting. There are so many amazing and inspiring artists there. I met people at the camp and then returned for more writing trips. I think the alternative music scenes in Stockholm and in Sweden generally are really exciting.It feels a bit like going home, but in a strange way. People often assume I’m just fully from London, but culturally a lot of my references are also Swedish, even if they’re not very current because I haven’t lived there since I was a teenager. So it still feels like home. I really admire the way writers and producers in Sweden approach music.What do you love about Sweden?I actually had an amazing time in Stockholm, and it was really important for me. I moved there when I was 15, which is kind of the worst age to move from London to a much smaller, colder, less diverse city, especially right when all your friends back home are discovering raves and nightlife. At the time, it felt terrible, but in many ways, it was the best thing my parents could have done for me.I made amazing friends there who became like family. But it’s not an easy place to live if you’re not white and Swedish. When you’re a teenager, I think you mould yourself in order to fit in and survive, and that’s what I did. I found ways to kind of “Swedify” myself to make it work. Now that I’m older, when I go back, I feel more friction because there are parts of me that aren’t really accepted there, and I’m less willing to adapt those parts of myself now.At the same time, I am also Swedish, so it’s not as simple as being a foreigner there. That’s why it’s complicated. But having a child has made me want to reconnect with that part of myself and share it with her, because she’s also Swedish. That’s made me find a new love for being there again. Going back there with purpose - going there to work, to connect with people, to make new memories — has been really helpful. And beyond that, I love the countryside. I could stay forever in our family house in the south of Sweden. The house my grandparents built feels like its own universe. So I think it’s really Stockholm that I’m still finding my place in — and music has helped with that.You also mentioned that the camp was for women and non-binary people, and of course you co-founded Ladies Music Pub, which focuses on diversity and supporting women and FLINTA people in the music industry. What inspired you to start that initiative?It was purely experience-based. I started it with my friend Hannah TW. At the moment, there are three of us involved. Hannah was on the label side of the industry, and I was on the artist side, and we realised we had a lot of the same frustrations. We’d go to the pub and talk about them, and then we started inviting more people. “Ladies Music Pub” was literally the title of Hannah’s first email inviting people. The word “ladies” is said with our eyes rolling, and people often misunderstand that.At its core, it’s about bringing people together to share experiences and learn from each other in a space that feels safe. For me, it was one of the first times in music that I felt I could ask any question freely. In male-dominated spaces, a lot of questions are treated as silly, but if knowledge isn’t shared, how are you meant to learn?Now we have meetings every month where around 20 to 30 people come together to talk, ask questions, and connect. People get jobs through it, and some attend because they want to get into music but haven’t started yet. Around 2019, when Nelly and Marina GB joined us, we also became a record label and released my first EP and other projects. Hannah and Marina also manage me now, so it grew into much more than just a meetup.It feels like you created a safe space for yourself, but also opened it up for others.Exactly. A lot of people say it feels unique because it’s not corporate. It’s very DIY, but it’s still serious. It’s not networking in suits. It’s people who genuinely want to work on their stuff and support each other.You mentioned that at one point, you had actually quit music. Did Ladies Music Pub help bring you back to it?Yeah, definitely. Both Hannah and I were at a point where we felt like we couldn’t go on in the way the industry was structured. I had quit music completely because of some of my experiences, as well as other personal things going on. I still loved making music, but I didn’t know if I could keep doing that job in that industry.So when I decided to make solo music and really commit to releasing it, I realised I needed LMP around me to survive in that space. It became essential - not just as a community, but as a record label and management structure too.You’ve released collaborations over the last few years, but you also mentioned that you’re starting to record your own music again. How has that been, and what are you working on currently?It’s been terrifying. I basically go to the studio, panic, and then go home. But I’m starting to feel more settled in it now.I went to New York in October to work with my friend Oscar Scheller, and Yazmin Lacy was there as well, which was so nice. We’d already released “Water” together, but we hadn’t had much time to make more music. We ended up in this amazing studio on our own for two days. I’d travelled there with my toddler on my own, and Yazmin was also there for sessions and a gig. So we just thought, let’s play around and see what happens.We were both joking that we don’t really play instruments, but then I came back from taking my daughter out for a nap and Yazmin had made a bassline and was playing drums. I was like, “You’ve literally produced a whole song — what do you mean you don’t do anything?” That kind of playful experimentation is really important for me right now. I need that to figure out what I want to do, without too much pressure.I’ve put a lot of pressure on making an album, like it has to be this elevated, separate thing from everything else I’ve done. So those playful sessions were beautiful because they helped me remember how to just make things.It sounds like you’re balancing playfulness with a more intentional approach now.Yeah, that’s true actually. I hadn’t thought about it like that. I keep saying this is the most intentional I’ve ever been, but then at the same time, Yazmin and I were just playing drums even though we don’t play drums. There are different types of intentions. It can also be intentional to be playful.You mentioned your daughter being around during these sessions. Has parenthood changed the way you approach music?That’s kind of what this whole process has been about since I started doing sessions for myself again in October. New York made me realise how much I’m still figuring that out. I structured that whole trip the way I would have worked before having a child, and it just didn’t work for me. She wasn’t even one and a half at that point, and I was working in a busy city for seven or eight days straight. At the beginning, I was on my own with her, so there was no break at all.Now I’m starting to feel some creativity come back, but I still need to work out how that fits with childcare and the way my life works now. Some people talk about having this huge creative surge after having a baby, but I haven’t really had that. Things in music are also often very last-minute — someone will ask if you can do a session tomorrow — and that kind of lack of structure is hard when you have a child. Children need continuity and routine, and both my partner and I have lives that are all over the place. So it’s definitely something I’m still learning.Is that also a topic discussed at Ladies Music Pub?Yes, definitely. We’ve even done a whole meeting focused on maternity and parenthood in music. A friend of ours helped restructure the maternity package at her record label, and we wanted to help because that’s exactly the kind of thing organisations can change. There were lots of parents there, and I think it’s something we’ll keep talking about as our lives evolve.I’m very lucky because my parents are amazing role models. They both do the same job, and I’ve moved into their house, so they help a lot. My mum said something really helpful to me: your schedule is always going to be the way it is, so you should still take the opportunities you want, but your daughter needs a constant point. So by living with them, she always has home as a stable base, even when I have to come and go. That’s been beautiful. I also grew up seeing my mum do this kind of thing, so it makes me feel like I can survive it too.That support network sounds incredibly important.It really is! A lot of people don’t grow up with parents who work in music, so for me, having seen this way of life since I was a child has made me feel like it would be possible to have kids and still do this. Just yesterday, my mum had been looking after my daughter a lot, and then I spent the whole afternoon with her and took her to the park. When I got back, my mum said, “Oh, that was nice, I got a break and wrote a song.” I was like, wow, we really are in this together. It was actually really cute.Your mother was a musician, and now you’re a musician too. Would you want the next generation in your family to become musicians as well?I want any of my children to do whatever they want to do. I’m kind of assuming she’ll do music because it seems to get everybody in my family. I definitely resisted it for a long time, but it catches up with you. She may be young, but she can already sing things back to me in tune, so I’m like, okay, she definitely has it. But honestly, I just want her to do whatever makes her happy. If she does go into music, I’d support her, but I’d probably also be like, “Are you sure?” It’s a wild ride.You’ve been remixed by people like Karen Nyame KG and James Massiah, and you’ve worked with a lot of artists from London’s underground music community. How do you stay so tapped into that world?It’s all just my peers, really. It all comes from friendships and from going out dancing for years and years. There’s something really beautiful about London and the way different people from different places come together in spaces and share music. When I moved back here at 20, that’s basically how I met everyone I know, through parties.Of course, part of it was about partying, but a lot of it was really about the music. Karen Nyame KG, for example, I didn’t know personally at first, but we had loads of mutual friends, so when we met up to work together, it felt very natural. James, I’ve known for years from going out and from nights like Work It. It’s all been very organic.I don’t go out as much now, but that’s definitely how those relationships started. And with anyone I didn’t know directly, a lot of those connections also came through Hannah and Marina from Ladies Music Pub. Hannah, especially, is really active in the club scene through Local Action and other things. Between the three of us, we’ve ended up connected to a lot of people. Being around your own people lets you really become yourself. I think that’s a big part of why I’ve flourished in London.Are there any new sounds you’re experimenting with for your new music?Yeah, I think so. Josette Joseph and I — who’s an amazing producer and engineer — have been talking a lot before the sessions about what I want to do. It’s been really helpful to work with more people alongside my longtime collaborator, Oscar Scheller, and invite different people into the process.Josette Joseph is also an engineer and mixer, so it’s been interesting to talk to her about vocal sound as well as production influences. I’ve joked about wanting this project to feel more “elevated,” but I do actually mean that in a positive way. I want it to feel like a step up from the things I’ve made before.One thing a lot of my music hasn’t had much of is live instrumentation, so I think that’s going to be a strong element this time. A lot of my work has been very program-based, and I’d like to bring instrumentalists into that world and add a different texture. Genre-wise, I don’t know exactly yet. I want to play with different sounds and see where it goes. But I think what stays consistent is my voice.Are you already doing sessions with live musicians in the room?That’s definitely something I want to do. A few of those sessions couldn’t happen in this first run, but they will soon. I feel inspired by Yazmin Lacey in that way too; she writes instrumentally, even if she doesn’t always literally play everything. I’m also learning over time that some melodies I write are actually instrumental parts in disguise. I’ll sing something and then realise maybe that’s actually a synth line, or a bass part. So I’d love to sit in a room with musicians and say, “What happens if you play this little thing I’m singing?”In 2025, you released a charity single with your family. Can you talk a bit about your activism and why it felt important to do that?It felt crucial. I don’t think there was any part of me that felt like not doing something was an option. I think you have to do what you can do. The concert and the single were really our way as musicians of trying to do something meaningful.Everyone was talking about trying to get it to number one, but for me, whether it did or didn’t was never really the point. It was still beautiful, meaningful, and important. Originally, it wasn’t even meant to be a recorded track; that only happened because there wasn’t enough time at the concert for us to perform it. In the end, I actually think that was a good thing.I think it reached people in this country who maybe hadn’t been engaged before, and that matters. Some people were upset it didn’t hit number one, but I think it still did what it was supposed to do. For me, speaking about what’s happening in the world is vital. I’ve actually been shocked by how many people with platforms aren’t talking about these things. Some people I’m not surprised by, but some really do surprise me. I just feel like I have to talk about it.While waiting patiently for new TYSON music, listen to the new single “Wayside” by Sam Akpro featuring TYSON.
