King Iced was just himself, David, before he was anything else: a producer and artist working out his own sound rather than copying anyone else’s. His first official single, “Uduak,” arrived in 2024 and gave him the first real sense of it. In 2025, he was told point-blank that the sound couldn’t be fit into a bracket, and he took that as his cue to build his own lane. Since then, he has moved between Afro-Fusion, Afrobeat, Pop and Afro-Rave, and produced “Magic Fufu,” a beat that, by his account, took off on TikTok and became the foundation for “Ewo” with Famous Pluto. Independence has been uneven. He talks openly about having no budget, struggling to collect royalties and moving his entire catalogue rather than accept terms he didn’t believe in. 

In this interview, he talks to us about writing “Lagos Teens” at 16, why he’s holding back the full picture of his sound, and what “made it” looks like a year from now.

Before “King Iced,” who were you, and what was the first sound you remember trying to copy?
Before King Iced, I was David Ikponmwosa Edobor. Honestly, I wasn’t trying to copy anyone. I was figuring out my own sound from the ground up. But if I had to name influences, it’s Rema, Bloody Civilian and Big Wiz. Those three shaped how I think about music, even if none of them sound like me.

What’s the actual moment you decided to build your own lane instead of waiting on a label? Was there a specific rejection or realization that triggered it?
That decision came in 2024, right after I dropped my first official single, “Uduak.” I felt like I’d finally found my sound. Then in 2025, I was told point-blank that the sound I’d built couldn’t be fit into a bracket. That was the moment. If it didn’t fit anyone else’s box, I’d have to build my own.

You move between Afrobeat, Pop, Afro-Fusion and Afro-Rave. Which of those did you start in, and which one still feels least natural to you?
I started in Afro-Fusion, but I also started listening to the legends of Afrobeats, from both the previous era and the modern era. It’s all about the emotion I’m trying to communicate to the people listening to my music.

You lean hard on “vocal identity” as your signature. How would you describe that voice to someone who’s never heard it, without using the word “unique”?
Healing.

“Lagos Teens” is called your anchor single. What’s the actual origin of that song, and what does the title mean to you beyond the obvious?
I wrote “Lagos Teens” when I was 16. At that point in my life, I felt left out, like I didn’t measure up to people who seemed to have it more figured out than I did. The song is me singing from the perspective of the other teenagers I wanted to be.

Is there a version of King Iced’s sound you’ve deliberately avoided because it’s expected of Afro-fusion artists right now?
Yeah, there is. I’ve dropped hints of it in songs I’ve already put out, but I’m holding back the full picture. I want to take listeners on a journey, unravelling layer by layer, showing the depths of music from Nigeria.

Walk me through how “Ewo” with Famous Pluto came together. Who brought the idea, and what did you specifically bring to it as producer versus artist?
“Ewo” started with the beat for “Magic Fufu.” I was bored one day and thought, “I haven’t actually tried proper Amapiano.” A friend of mine happened to know Famous Pluto, and by that point “Magic Fufu” had picked up traction on TikTok, with over 2 million streams on Spotify alone, so he put us in touch. As a producer, I brought an existing bounce and a sense of familiarity to the record. Listeners already knew the groove, and Pluto added a new dimension with his vocals on top of it.

Producing for other artists versus producing for yourself: does your process actually change, or is it the same instinct pointed at someone else’s voice?
It genuinely changes. I have to remind myself I’m producing for someone else, not myself, in that moment. I usually start with melodies or drums and build from there, shaped by how the artist is feeling at the time.

Is there an artist outside your circle right now whose sound you’d want to get into the room with?
There’s a long list, but a few stand out: Blazqbonez, Ojurere, Sewa, Anari (I think she’s really cool), Scotty Olorin and Tochi Bedford.

You’ve built this without label infrastructure. What’s one thing about that path that sounds better than it actually feels day to day?
Honestly, having people discover my music completely on their own and get genuinely hyped about it. That part is real.

What’s the hardest part of independence that people don’t ask about: distribution, funding, just staying consistent without a team pushing you?
No one really asks about having a song you know deserves to blow up, but having zero budget and no funding behind it. Even early on, I ran into distribution issues, from struggling to collect my own royalties to having to move my entire catalogue because I wasn’t willing to agree to terms I didn’t think I should have to accept. It’s been a wild ride.

Do you see the King Iced project eventually plugging into a label system, or is staying independent the whole point?
Right now, my goal is to get my music into the minds of as many people as possible. Whatever way is best for King Iced and aligns with the vision is what I’m looking out for.

“Honesty” as an opening title feels deliberate. What’s it honesty about?
“Honesty” is a conversation between a king and the woman he’s trying to make his queen. It’s a confession of how much he genuinely cares for her, and how much he’s willing to be there for her.

“TikTok Baddies” and “DLDD (Dance Like David Dance)” both sound built for movement and virality. Is that the intent, or is that reading too much into the titles?
“TikTok Baddies” was a result of scrolling through TikTok while listening to the beat. A video popped up and all I saw were baddies, baddies and more baddies, and the need for one gave me an idea. “DLDD” came from a vibe, an inside joke with myself. I grew up with people telling me I couldn’t dance, so the joke became: “she said she wants to dance like I do.”

“Rift Run” stands out as the odd one out on this tracklist tonally. What’s the story there?
“Rift Run” was initially made as a soundtrack for a film. Myself, my team and the director decided to put it out as a single before the film itself dropped.

If “Ewo” is what got you into rooms as a producer, what’s the record you want to be the one that gets you taken seriously as an artist?
I’d say “TikTok Baddies.”

A year from now, what does “made it” look like for you as a person?
A year from now, “made it” looks like having a stable structure, a real community behind me and consistent motion. No matter how little it is, consistent motion will always get to the destination.