Over the past decade, Grammy-nominated and Mercury Prize-winning musician Michael Kiwanuka has established himself as one of the most distinctive voices of our time. Known for his timeless, soulful vocals, often compared to Sam Cooke or Bill Withers, Kiwanuka’s lyrics explore the complexities of today’s world. He addresses themes like race, polarisation and spirituality, amplified by moving guitar riffs.

Released when he was just 24 years old, his 2012 debut album Home Again achieved platinum status, and his subsequent albums solidified his position as a critical favourite. Following a five-year hiatus, his latest release, the 2024 album Small Changes, has been hailed by The Guardian as “an exquisite return.”

In this interview, Michael reflects on the transformative power of creativity – not just in making music but as a universal force for reimagining the way we see the world, face challenges, and grow. His insights into embracing uncertainty, fostering collaboration and finding joy in the process offer valuable lessons for artists, writers, business leaders and anyone looking to bring a fresh perspective to their work and life.

This article first appeared in Issue 05 of The Beautiful Truth magazine. Get your copy here.

Think beyond yourself

HF: You’ve been making albums for over a decade, being a professional creative since 2012. How do you see creativity shaping society, particularly in times of change or struggle?

MK: I like the famous Nina Simone quote, “An artist’s duty is to reflect the times in which we live.” Creativity – or art – has this unique ability to phrase or explain things that are hard to say out loud. It captures emotions or moments that feel so big you can’t quite describe them. Sometimes, when something major happens, you try to tell a friend about it, and you’re like, “You just had to be there.” Art does that extra bit – it says, “This is what it felt like,” in a way that words alone can’t manage.

It’s like a mirror. When you hear a song or see a painting that really connects, it’s like sitting with a friend who truly understands. You think, You felt that too? I’m not crazy; I’m not alone. Art can make you feel seen and understood – it becomes a companion in tricky moments. That’s why it’s so powerful; it goes beyond explanation and taps into something deeper.

Stay curious

HF: I love that image of art being a mirror. How has your view of creativity evolved throughout your career, especially as you’ve gained more experience and perspective?

MK: When I started, it was just songwriting – fun, no pressure, and if people liked it, I thought, “I’m just lucky.” But over time, as I met fans and heard how my music helped them through their own struggles, I realised it had a deeper impact than I first thought. Creativity became not just a way to express myself but a tool for navigating life.

I think creativity is about learning a craft within boundaries so you can break them. The more you learn, the more you realise the magic happens when you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s about being okay with being lost, with not having the answers, and letting creativity take over. In everyday life, I used to be embarrassed by not knowing things – I grew up in London so for a long time I didn’t know how to drive – but in creativity, not knowing is often better. That’s when you create something special.

It’s about staying in the moment and letting your imagination flow. I’ve learned not to be afraid of asking questions or being wrong. It’s also made me relate better to kids – they’re not embarrassed by not knowing; they just ask. That’s been a big shift for me. I enjoy my creativity more now because I’m not focused on trying to be good anymore. It’s just fun.

Don’t get stuck in the setbacks 

HF: I think it’s interesting that for creativity to flow, you first have to master your craft, then you can be free to break the rules. I’ve heard you talk about your label rejecting your second album and making you start again. How did you do it?

MK: That was a really hard time. My first album, Home Again, was a lot of work, but I was really happy with how it turned out. The second album was tough though. I worked on it with the same producer as the first, recorded 15 or 16 songs, and delivered it to the label. Their response was, “It’s not good enough,” which was gutting.

Looking back, I see it as part of a larger journey. At the time, I felt completely lost, and then I met the producer Danger Mouse. He wasn’t supposed to help me make an album; we were just working on some random songs for a project he was doing. But during those sessions, he asked about my second album, and I admitted I didn’t know how to make one anymore. On a whim, I asked him if he’d help me, and to my surprise, he said yes. That moment took courage, but honestly, I didn’t have many options left.

Danger Mouse brought a lot of experience – he’d had both commercial success and made obscure, artsy records. Working with him was a masterclass in navigating the fine line between artistry and marketability. He was tough, though. He’d tell me, “That’s not quite it. You can do better.” At first, I hated it. I’d get moody, thinking he was just like ‘the men in suits’. But then I realised he cared deeply about the music and wanted it to be the best it could be.

That experience taught me a lot about humility and trust. Sometimes, you need someone to challenge you, but it has to be someone who truly understands and respects your vision. The goal isn’t to compromise your authenticity but to push you to create something extraordinary. It’s hard work – scrapping songs, redrafting, trying again. But it’s worth it.

All the greats have gone through this. The Beatles had George Martin pushing them, sharpening their craft. They spent years playing covers in Hamburg, learning song structures and understanding how music connects with people. That foundation allowed them to innovate and create timeless songs.

The same goes for modern icons. Kendrick Lamar studied poetry and lyricism meticulously before becoming an icon. Artists like Radiohead, André 3000 and Danger Mouse himself all put in the work, constantly refining their craft.

The problem with shortcuts – whether it’s relying on trends or technology – is that they bypass the hard work that gives your art longevity. A strong melody, meaningful lyrics and understanding your craft – that’s the heartbeat of music. It’s what sustains you over time.

So, for me, it’s about balancing both worlds. If you want a long career, you have to put in the effort. That’s where the magic happens – in the work.

Master your craft, then break the rules

HF: Creative work requires a lot of headspace, which can be hard to get in a world increasingly consumed by our phones. How do you make that space?

MK: I think it starts with intentionally carving out those moments, even in small ways. It might sound a bit radical, but what if we built it into our day – structured times for creativity or just being bored? How cool would it be if schools incorporated these little pockets of ‘imagination time’ throughout the day? Not as a punishment or a chore, but as a chance to be screen-free for 5–10 minutes. It could be framed as playtime but more open-ended – no screens, no pressure. Kids could talk, draw, paint, build something or just daydream. I think that could be transformative, especially if it became part of the routine right up to GCSE age. It’s about creating a habit of valuing that unstructured time.

I also try to give myself permission to use my imagination without the expectation that it has to produce something – without needing to turn it into something profitable or post-worthy. That’s so important. We don’t need to commodify every creative moment. Sometimes, it’s just about messing around with ideas, letting your brain wander, and enjoying that process. It doesn’t need to fit a trend or be packaged for social media. It’s valuable simply because it exists.

Find inspiration everywhere

HF: I totally agree – creating for the sake of creating is so undervalued. How do you typically approach the start of a new creative project? What’s the initial spark that gets the process going for you?

MK: It always starts with a strong feeling about something. Whether it’s the excitement of playing a new instrument, like a guitar that I just can’t stop playing, or hearing a new sound in an album that really inspires me. It could even be something that happens in my life – happy or sad – that really makes me think differently. Something has to shift in my head or perspective for me to start creating, whether that’s songwriting or exploring a new aesthetic in a film or an album.

HF: Do you have any rituals or routines you turn to when you feel creatively blocked?

MK: Yes, I have a couple of things I do. For songwriting, I have this one specific trick I use. I challenge myself to write a song using only two chords, but it has to have a lift and a bow. It’s such a good way to break out of a rut.

Another thing I’ve been doing lately is coming up with lyrics while I’m walking. The movement distracts part of my brain, so the words come more easily. One time, I was chopping vegetables and I had music on in the background. I wasn’t even focused on writing, but suddenly, the lyrics and melody just clicked. Folding clothes or walking the dog works the same way – it’s like doing something mundane opens up your subconscious. For me, this is especially true for lyrics, which I’ve struggled with in the past. There were whole periods of time when I couldn’t write anything. Now, when I hit a block, I’ll deliberately go for a walk or do something else to reset, and it works almost every time.

Embrace collaboration 

HF: I’d love to talk a bit about collaboration. No matter what field you’re in, collaboration is essential to making a real impact. Are there any standout lessons you’ve learned from collaborating – particularly with other artists?

MK: Definitely. For a long time, I had this mindset – probably because I was so into Bob Dylan – that the true artist worked alone. You know, the lone genius with a guitar, crafting everything on their own. I thought collaborating was almost like cheating. But now I feel completely the opposite.

HF: What changed for you?

MK: I realised that collaboration lets you create something larger than the sum of its parts. Some of my favourite songs are ones I couldn’t have done on my own. And when I look back on those writing sessions, I remember the magic of the moment. You think, How did we even do that? It feels unexplainable, almost like something beyond yourself.

There’s this beautiful push-and-pull dynamic when you have two, three or four people bouncing ideas back and forth, filling in gaps, sparring creatively and inspiring each other. It’s this shared vision that evolves into something none of you could have achieved on your own. And that, to me, reflects something fundamental about being human. We thrive in community. We’re meant to work together, and when we do, the results feel almost otherworldly.

HF: That’s such a great perspective. Collaboration doesn’t take away from your talent; it amplifies it.

MK: Exactly. It’s freeing, too. It doesn’t make you less talented or less capable; it makes you better. I think that applies to so many fields, even writing. Writing is inherently collaborative – you have editors, feedback, people helping you refine your work. There’s this misconception that great things come fully formed from a single person, but that’s rarely true.

Even when you’ve honed your craft and can produce something good on your own, collaboration has this unique power. It’s also a much quicker way to innovate. I don’t think real innovation happens in isolation. It’s the result of two ideas, or two people, colliding – and that collision sparks something entirely new. That’s what makes collaboration so exciting. You’re not just creating; you’re building something fresh, innovative and deeply connective.

HF: So true – those collisions can lead to such unique and impactful work.

MK: Absolutely. It’s cool to create something solo, but the work that really resonates, that really connects with people, almost always comes from collaboration. It’s where you find something new, something bigger than you could ever achieve alone. That’s the magic of it.