Photo Courtesy of Lara Martin
Written By: Oliver Heffron
Some artists arrive in a whirlwind of branding, spectacle, and soundbites. Geo Baddoo is not one of them. The Somerset-born, London-based singer-songwriter doesn’t announce herself so much as settle in. Her music moves slowly, but precisely—soulful, textured, and quietly magnetic. She isn’t trying to outrun the noise; she’s carving space outside it.
Catching up with Nuance, Geo Baddoo discusses her new single “Look at Me,” her approach to songwriting, and staying grounded in the music industry.
Raised in the English countryside by a producer father and a dancer mother, Baddoo grew up surrounded by music and movement. But it wasn’t until she started writing her own songs at fifteen that she knew she’d found her direction. “From then,” she says, “it was very much tunnel vision.”
Geo’s sound doesn’t fit neatly into a genre box, which is exactly the point. “I don’t really like set out and say, ‘Oh, I’m making a song that sounds like this.’ That’ll never really happen,” she explains.
She describes her songwriting as intuitive, led by feeling rather than formula. “Each song is different, and the sonic decisions I make are to serve the feeling or purpose of the song,” she says. “I pull from the palette I’ve curated out of the musical influences I’ve talked about—R&B, hip-hop, country, folk, reggae, African... but the common thread is always a soulful feeling.”
Her latest single “Look at Me” is a sharp turn—and a quiet leap. A collaboration with LA-based producer Titanium, it trades the live instrumentation of her past work for a more electronic, beat-forward sound. But the shift doesn’t feel jarring. Instead, it feels like the same voice in a new room, trying on a different kind of strength.
The song was born during a trip to Los Angeles—a city where every sidewalk seems like a stage, and everyone has a pitch. Geo went for networking, but what she found was something far more interior. “I was in a high-pressure situation with a lot of distractions, egos, performance,” she says. “And just kind of holding on to my own and feeling proud that I was doing that.”
That sense of self, holding its shape amid all the shimmer and posturing, became the center of “Look at Me.” But it didn’t stop with LA. “That environment I was describing—where everyone is kind of doing a performance, presenting a version of themselves—could also be compared to other environments like social media or the industry as a whole,” she adds. “So I think it’s quite a relatable dynamic.”
Rather than answer performance with more performance, the track sidesteps the game entirely. The production is smooth but uncluttered, the energy confident without leaning too hard. And her voice? Still, centered, unshaken.
The creative process itself mirrored this self-assurance. Geo took Titanium’s beat back to the UK, cut and reordered it to fit the shape she was hearing, then recorded vocals and sent back a new version. It was her first time working this way, fully remote, more structured by exchange than studio time. “There’s lots of collaboration happening at the moment,” she says. “And that’s a new thing for me, for sure.”
Still, even in a more electronic register, “Look at Me” doesn’t abandon her core. It builds on it. You can hear the restraint—the decision to let the groove breathe, to hold a moment without filling every second. It’s self-possessed without being showy. Strong without being loud.
When she performed the track live for the first time earlier this year at an intimate, invite-only show in East London, the reaction said it all. “That was the one where everyone was dancing,” she says. “It had the most impact. It just makes people move. It just feels uplifting.”
That balance—between introspection and movement, presence and privacy—is the thread running through Geo’s work. She isn’t interested in proving herself. She’s interested in staying rooted while still evolving.
“I want to stay grounded,” she says, “and not stray too far from myself, so I can move with change in an authentic way.”
With “Look at Me,” she’s done just that. No performance. Just presence.