- Words Notion Staff
Following the release of her radiant new single 'Look At Me', British soul-R&B artist Geo Baddoo reflects on finding calm amid chaos, confronting performative culture, and how self-acceptance has become her most radical act.
Fresh from the release of her soul-stirring new single ‘Look At Me’, British singer-songwriter Geo Baddoo is stepping into her next chapter with quiet conviction. The track, produced in collaboration with Germany-based producer Tytanium, is a warm yet clear-eyed declaration of self-acceptance in an age of ego, illusion, and endless performance. It was born in the wake of a reflective solo trip to Los Angeles, where Geo observed the pressures of hyper-curated living up close and translated that discomfort into something fluid, fierce, and deeply personal. With featherlight harmonies wrapped around bold, grounding truths, ‘Look At Me’ doubles down on the inward-facing ethos that’s always underscored her work, capturing the tension between wanting to be seen and refusing to be defined by other people’s projections.
In conversation, Geo speaks with the same calm clarity that defines her music. There’s a weight to her words, not in heaviness, but in intention. Whether she’s unpacking the confessional phrasing behind a vocal take, reflecting on growing up around her father’s home studio in rural Somerset, or discussing the daily rituals that help her stay centred in a hyper-competitive industry, Geo’s perspective feels refreshingly unforced. As she opens up about the emotional roots of ‘Look At Me’, and the evolving artistry behind it, what emerges is a portrait of an artist unafraid to bloom in her own time, on her own terms.
‘Look At Me’ was born after a trip to Los Angeles, where you noticed how everyone seemed to be “performing a version of themselves.” What was the moment in that trip when the song’s concept crystallised, and how did you translate that realisation into lyrics and melody?
I’ve spent a bit of time in LA and have always found it interesting to observe how people show up in those industry environments. Naturally, there’s a lot of performance, sometimes subtle, sometimes not. The more I grow, the more I can pick up on certain things in others and in myself. On my most recent trip, something had definitely shifted in me. I just felt truly rooted in myself and confident that I didn’t need to shout to be heard. I heard the original version of the instrumental at just the right moment, then the melody and lyrics flowed naturally.
You describe the track as a declaration of self-acceptance amid ‘ego and distraction.’ What daily practices or boundaries help you protect that authenticity when social media and the music industry often reward the opposite?
Honestly, I’m working on recognising when to lock my phone and step away. It’s so easy to spiral if I narrow my perspective to a screen. I’m getting good at noticing that clogged up feeling, it gives me self-doubt, is usually the red flag. In those moments, I have to stay tapped into real life and tuned into my own rhythm and purpose. Practices to maintain this for me are journaling, reading, exercise, being in nature, and spending time with the right people.
Singing and writing are crucial too, of course. With my personality and lifestyle, I definitely have to push to make time for these things amongst my work. I have to see self-care as essential to the progression of my career. I truly believe my success is within me, so taking the time to rest and check in with myself is serving the greater good, haha. I definitely go periods without enough self-care, but that’s life.
Tytanium’s production fuses deep-house bounce with soul and jazz undertones. How did your trans-European collaboration unfold—were you trading stems online, or did you carve out studio time together to chase a specific sonic warmth?
It was all remote! I was in LA when I first heard the instrumental and just started freestyling ideas straight away. I ended up rearranging the structure a bit to match what I was hearing in my head, then recorded the vocals with some production ideas and sent it back to Tytanium. He really brought it all together. We didn’t overthink it, and it was an easy and natural process.
Your vocal phrasing often feels conversational, almost confessional. Do you fine-tune those melodic choices in the booth, or are they usually captured in the first instinctive take?
Definitely instinctive. Generally, with me, if I overthink and overdo, I’ve missed it. Sometimes I do hear the playback and immediately identify what I need to change. But sometimes I do take after take trying to achieve something, then listen to the first couple of takes again and realise it had the right feeling.
From Mary J. Blige to David Bowie, your reference points span genres and eras. Which influence surprised even you by sneaking into the final mix of ‘Look At Me’, and where can attentive listeners hear it?
This is a unique song for me in that I heard the music then it all flowed from me without too much deliberation. Someone said there’s a little touch of a Southern (US) accent in the song, which is quite funny. If it’s there, it’s probably picked up from my cousins, who are from Atlanta, Georgia. I was named after the state, and visited them a few times as a child, but I have returned more recently. Their accents are strong, but I love it, maybe it’s fresh in my head!
Growing up with a home studio in rural Somerset gave you early creative freedom. How does that DIY foundation continue to shape the way you approach bigger, more professional sessions today?
I was lucky to grow up around music in a big way. My dad’s a professional musician and producer, so our home studio wasn’t a hobby setup. I saw a lot of different people come through as a kid, so that environment was definitely a foundation for me. I found my love for songwriting and music there, and I’ve learnt so much from my dad, and I still am. We still work together. That said, the tools and styles he works with are rooted in older traditions, and I’m now also collaborating with producers who bring a different, more modern approach. As an artist, I really don’t intend to be boxed in. My favourite music eras are the ’70s and ’90s, and I love finding ways to fuse retro textures with the sound of today. It’s a collaboration across generations in a way, and I think that’s a big part of who I am.
You’ve played intimate rooms like Genghis Cohen and larger halls such as Union Chapel. When you imagine performing ‘Look At Me’ live, what visual or emotional experience do you hope the audience walks away with?
I’d love to play ‘Look At Me’ at a festival. I definitely see the sun and warm, open air. I hope the audience would leave with an uplifting, empowering feeling – just an all-around positive vibe. It’s perfect for that setting because it’s a rhythm you want to move to, but it also has this easy energy that doesn’t demand too much. That said, I do think the song has the power to transform any space, big or small, into that same kind of expansive, illuminated feeling. I’ll take some fireworks on the line ‘Look At Me’ if it’s going through!
Your earlier single ‘My Turn’ spoke to taking up space; ‘Look At Me’ doubles down on that confidence. What have you learned between those releases about claiming visibility without compromising vulnerability?
Between those two songs, I’ve learnt that vulnerability isn’t separate from confidence. For me, it’s actually part of it. ‘My Turn’ was me choosing to step into the light and take my place, and ‘Look At Me’ is more about being in that light and rooting myself. I’m learning that I don’t have to constantly explain or justify myself, and that visibility doesn’t have to mean having all the answers. I think it’s about trusting myself, staying resilient, and giving myself grace so I can bounce back from setbacks.
Beyond music, you’ve cited a desire to embody both empathy and strength. Are there community projects, mental-health initiatives, or mentorship roles you’re exploring that echo the song’s message of grounded resilience?
Right now, I’m pouring my energy into music. I know how much impact art has. I believe an artist’s job is to hold up a mirror, to make room for reflection by capturing the range of our experiences as humans. That said, I care about a number of causes, and I do have ambitions for things I’d like to do in the future. Before I left Somerset, I helped to set up a weekly arts and wellbeing workshop for disadvantaged youth in the area, which is still running, so that’s nice to see.
Finally, ‘Look At Me’ feels like a sonic bloom, ‘just in time for summer.’ What seeds are you planting next – an EP, a collab project, or perhaps a shift in sound—that listeners can look forward to as the seasons change?
There are a lot of seeds being planted at the moment. I’m definitely exploring sonically, and I’m definitely in an era of collaboration. I’ve been tapping into different sides of myself, and there are some really interesting things unfolding. I’m looking forward to sharing more of my versatility as an artist and a writer, and can’t wait to introduce the collaborators! Stay tuned.