Malik English on Building a World
- 3 days ago
- 6 min read
The Brooklyn artist and producer on identity, intention, and thinking ten years ahead.
Interviewed & Written by Bridget Plate
Brooklyn-based artist and producer Malik English is building something bigger than a discography. With “Ariya,” the latest single from his upcoming EP For Di Gyal Dem, he’s crafting a sonic space where amapiano grooves meet Yoruba lyrics, where global influences feel intimate and alive. Coming off the momentum of “Solo,” which recently earned coverage from Ones To Watch and Audiomack, Malik is moving with intention: opening for artists like Anayka She and Scorey, preparing for festival appearances at Chreece and Summer Haus, and thinking ten years ahead.
Malik talks about identity, the live experience, and the version of himself he’s building toward.

You’ve got the EP coming, festival dates lined up, momentum building. How are you feeling about where you are right now as an artist?
Honestly, it’s an exciting place to be. It feels like I’m finally starting to see the results of a lot of years of work and consistency. At the same time, I don’t feel like I’ve arrived yet. My focus right now is building a stronger ecosystem around the music, growing the audience & community. Creating systems that make every release bigger and more impactful than the last.There’s still a lot I want to accomplish, but for the first time I feel like I can actually see the path ahead. The goals feel tangible now. That makes me even more motivated to keep pushing.
Your sound pulls from the global Black diaspora (amapiano, R&B, New York energy). How did you arrive at that as your creative foundation, and did it feel intentional or did it just happen?
Definitely intentional. I grew up connected to a lot of different cultures I’m Nigerian, Trinidadian, Canadian, and I was raised in New York so I’ve always been surrounded by different sounds and perspectives.I went back to Trinidad a few years ago and being out there, hearing what people were actually playing at parties, bars, and on the street made me want to create music that felt connected to those real-life moments. When I came back to New York, I felt the same thing. I wanted to make records that could live in the clubs, at the pregame, in the car, backyard bashment music people enjoy together.That’s where the blend of amapiano, R&B, dancehall, Afrobeats, and New York energy comes from. I wanted to create music that feels human and communal, something that brings people together and becomes part of a summer day.
“Ariya” weaves Yoruba throughout the lyrics and “Solo” built its own kind of world. How important is cultural specificity to you? Do you feel a responsibility to it, or is it more personal than that?
I think it’s more personal and self-focused. My music has been a tool for me to explore my identity, what I can and can’t do, and what sounds make me feel joy. With these songs, digging deeper into my identity has allowed me to connect with other people who have similar cultural backgrounds and upbringings.I think the responsibility has been making it a point to carry the culture and keep it at the forefront of everything I do.

You produce your own music and handle creative direction on the visual side too. How do those two roles inform each other? Do you think like a producer when you’re directing, or do you have to switch modes?
I love this question actually haha. It’s definitely the same thought process for both. I usually have an initial idea of what I want the song or video to look and feel like. I try not to be too rigid or overly attached to that first vision, though.As I’m creating, I might get new ideas or find better ways to do something. It’s like building a bridge while walking across it. I try to keep the process freeform and focus on making the coolest product possible.Especially with visuals, once you’re actually in the space, you start recontextualizing everything. You think about different angles, different shot ideas, and moments you couldn’t have planned beforehand. It’s really about keeping your mind open, experimenting, and being willing to try things.
When you’re building a track, are you chasing a feeling, a sound, or something else entirely?
All of the above! When I’m building a track, I’m thinking about the feeling, the sound, and the environment it’s meant to live in. I’m thinking about where I want the song to play and how I want people to react when they hear it.I’m thinking about the locations, how a DJ would mix it, what songs it would sit next to on a playlist, and the moments it could soundtrack. Whether it’s for a club, a bedroom, a pregame, or blasting in the car, I usually have a pretty clear idea of where the song should live before it’s finished.
You’ve been opening for Anayka She and Scorey, and Chreece is coming up alongside Rico Nasty. What have those live moments taught you about your music that the studio can’t?
The live versions of my songs are almost completely different from the studio versions. As I’ve played bigger and bigger shows and studied some of my favorite live artists, like Childish Gambino, Dominic Fike, and Travis Scott, I’ve become really intentional about making sure the energy is on point from start to finish.A lot of that comes down to curating the setlist so there aren’t any lull moments. If the energy comes down, it’s intentional. I’m trying to create a rollercoaster of emotions where we move through all kinds of different vibes throughout the set.I think interaction is important too. Whether it’s 50 people or 500 people, I try to make the show feel like we’re all in a group chat together just having fun, vibing, and carving out a moment in time that only exists right then and there.

Brooklyn is central to your identity but the music clearly reaches beyond it. How do you think about where you’re making music from versus who you’re making it for?
It’s probably the biggest part of everything. Brooklyn is the capital of Mamdanistan. Whether it’s Labor Day on Eastern Parkway, growing up going to backyard parties in Canarsie, block parties throughout the city, or beach days in Brighton, everything about Brooklyn inspires me.With such a dense population of Caribbean people, you get to experience the culture at such a high level. Brooklyn is my favorite pocket of it, but there are similar places around the world, Toronto, London, Port of Spain, Lagos. Knowing I have fans in places like that, and that they share a lot of the same energy and experiences as people in New York, makes it easier to know what kind of music I want to make.It feels like I’m making the world smaller through music.
What do you want people to walk away feeling after a full listen to your body of work? Not just a single, but everything you’ve put out.
It’s funny, I’ve actually been doing that more often lately. One of the first things it reminds me of is that I need to release more music. There still isn’t enough volume in the catalog for someone to sit with it for hours, and I want to change that.When I do listen back to everything, though, it makes me think about what these songs could feel like in an arena setting. It makes me want to keep building out the story of Malik English and think about how the catalog will sound ten years from now.More than anything, I want people to walk away feeling joy, energy, and connection. I want the music to feel like the soundtrack to real moments in their lives. If someone can hear the growth, the influences, and the world I’m building and feel like they want to be a part of it, then I’ve done my job.
Where do you think you’re headed? Is there a version of Malik English five years from now that you’re actively working toward?
Of course! That’s honestly what I’m thinking about all the time. I’m constantly thinking about the future and what I want to make happen.I have big performance goals. I want to headline festivals like Coachella and Afro Nation, and I want to sell out places like Barclays Center and Madison Square Garden. Winning a Grammy Awards, a MTV Video Music Awards, and a BMI Award are all on the table too.The main focus right now is figuring out the steps I need to take to get there.
For Di Gyal Dem arrives this summer. Listen wherever you stream music.
Follow Malik English on Instagram.



