Some artists discover music. Others seem to orbit around it for years before finally stepping into the centre of their own story.
For RenzNiro, the journey began long before he ever recorded a verse.
Growing up, he was always creatively inclined. Music was present from an early age, with various instruments filling his primary school years. But by secondary school, academics took priority. Music became something that existed around him rather than something he actively pursued.
That changed in college.
Studying photography, he found himself immersed in a community of musicians, producers and creatives. While others were making records, he was often behind the camera, documenting studio sessions, designing artwork and helping build visual identities. It was an education that couldn’t be taught in a classroom.
“I spent so much time around studios, sessions and gigs that I eventually understood how everything worked,” he explains. “I wasn’t making music myself. I was just observing.”
The turning point came almost accidentally.
A friend posted a beat snippet online. Half-jokingly, he asked if he could record a verse over it. The challenge was accepted, a studio session was arranged, and before long he was standing in front of a microphone for the first time.
He hated it.
“I thought everyone was going to laugh at me,” he recalls. “I recorded it and immediately thought, ‘This is awful.'”
But when he shared it with people, the reaction couldn’t have been more different.
The encouragement he received became the first domino in a chain reaction that would eventually lead him to where he is today.
Like many artists, self-doubt arrived before confidence.
Listening back to his own unprocessed voice felt uncomfortable. Hearing yourself recorded for the first time can be a shock, and he admits much of his early uncertainty came from simply not knowing what “good” sounded like yet.
Once the track was mixed and polished, things began to click into place. More importantly, he realised people were genuinely connecting with what he was creating.
The real confirmation came after lockdown.
Performing for an audience that wasn’t made up entirely of friends gave him a new perspective. Watching strangers react to his music showed him that the connection was real.
“That was when I realised this actually means something.”
Ask most artists who inspires them and you’ll usually hear a list of household names.
While he openly credits artists like Lancey and Lucki as major influences during his early years, his greatest inspiration comes from much closer to home.
The artists he collaborates with daily are the ones pushing him forward creatively.
Names like GRIM, Dunamis, Lenacha, Wudini, 00ab, Ceesho, amil raja and prettyboyface aren’t just collaborators; they’re part of a creative ecosystem that constantly challenges him to improve
“The people around me inspire me the most,” he says. “They’re the ones pushing boundaries.”
It’s a refreshing answer in an industry often obsessed with celebrity collaborations. For him, the most exciting music is being made by people still building their own lanes.
His upcoming project, No Weapon Shall Prosper, wasn’t built overnight.
In fact, its roots stretch back to 2023, when he first began teaching himself production.
What started as experimental beat-making soon evolved into something much larger. One of his earliest productions carried the title No Weapon Shall Prosper, eventually becoming the track “SILVERSPOON” after a collaboration with AB.
But the project itself took years to fully reveal its identity.
Along the way came other releases, including KWE! and Laissez-Faire, each serving as stepping stones toward a bigger artistic vision.
“I didn’t know where some of those songs belonged yet,” he says. “I knew they were important, but I hadn’t figured out the bigger picture.”
The breakthrough came from an unlikely source: a Timbaland CD.
After repeatedly listening to Shock Value II in the car, he became fascinated by Timbaland’s ability to create wildly diverse sounds while maintaining a distinct artistic identity.
Everything still felt unmistakably Timbaland.
That lesson became a blueprint.