In a world saturated with sounds and stories, Jeffrey Benson stands out—not because he’s loud,
but because he’s honest. Born in Nigeria and now creating from the heart of Toronto, Jeffrey isn’t
just a singer; he’s a storyteller, a genre-fusing experimentalist, and a creative force who refuses
to be boxed in. His music carries the echoes of home, layered with the rhythm of the diaspora,
and laced with the sharp self-awareness of someone who’s lived, listened, and learned across
cultures.
In this intimate and unfiltered conversation, Jeffrey opens up about everything—his songwriting
rituals, the weight of grief, the bittersweet hustle of independence, and why success is more than
just charts and streams. Whether he’s merging Afrobeats with R&B or reflecting on his younger
self’s dreams, one thing is clear: Jeffrey Benson is in relentless pursuit of authenticity.
If you’re curious about the kind of artist who still gets emotional watching his mom share his
music—or the kind who’ll take himself on artist dates to fight creative blocks—this interview is
your perfect entry point.
Avola: How does your Nigerian heritage influence your music while you live and create in
Toronto?
Jeffrey Benson: That’s an incredible question. My Nigerian heritage makes up almost
everything in my music because that’s what I’ve always known. I didn’t really spend long periods
abroad until after secondary school. I went to university in Cyprus, spent time in Turkey, and the
UK too, so I’ve been all over. But one thing that’s been constant is the music.
Every generation of artists that has popped up — I know their stories. I’ve always been locked
into interviews, media, Twitter, social media, and just listening to the songs. My playlists are
filled with African music, even the throwbacks. No matter where I am or what lifestyle I’m
experiencing here in Toronto, hearing those sounds from home makes me feel grounded. It
keeps me inspired. Even the little things — Nigerian podcasts, creators — I stay tapped in.
Avola: Was there a specific moment you knew music was your calling?
Jeffrey Benson: I wouldn’t say it hit me as a “calling” at first. That word feels strong. In Nigeria,
the “calling” usually only makes sense when you’re successful — until then, it feels more like a
gamble. So instead of calling, I’d say I recognized music as a strong passion I just couldn’t run
away from.
There were expectations — to be a lawyer, doctor — especially when you’ve got good grades.
Music was seen as wayward, a backup plan if school didn’t work. So I stayed behind the scenes:
writing for others, producing, giving feedback, analyzing careers. I couldn’t stay away from it.
Even during my master’s, I’d hear a beat and instantly want to create.
I think I knew deep down since I was 15. In high school, I freestyled a lot. By university, I was
always in music circles — sending ideas, predicting who’d blow up. I was always involved,
always listening, always feeling. I believe music is tied to my calling — but I’m still on that
journey.
Avola: Toronto is a melting pot of cultures — how has the city shaped or challenged your
sound?
Jeffrey Benson: Toronto is incredibly inspiring, especially living downtown. Every day, I look
out my window and see the CN Tower, and it reminds me: someone like Drake came from here.
That’s powerful. The city’s filled with artists. Fashion, pop-ups, performances — it’s so artistic. I
see people making sounds I know Africans can vibe to. And because there are no restrictions, I
can pick from anything. Toronto has pushed me to think outside the box — to drop the
boundaries and just create. Music is universal. It’s taught me not to worry about whether
something is “too complicated” or “too simple” — just make what feels real.
Avola: What’s your songwriting process like — are you a late-night thinker or a
spontaneous creator?
Jeffrey Benson: It depends on the song. Some come from pain. Others are characters I imagine,
chaotic but rooted in vibes. Typically, I start with a beat or a voice note. I note the ideas down
and decode the emotions I feel from them.
At first, I thought I was weird for working that way — until I started watching artist interviews
and realized I’m not alone. Sometimes the melodies I lay down sound off to others, but I hear
what I’m trying to say — it’s like a coded language for artists. I used to be a night owl, but now I
focus more on habits than moods. I stick to a weekly schedule. I record a minimum of three to
five songs a week. I don’t wait for the perfect moment — I show up, even when the inspiration
doesn’t. And I prioritize rest too.
Avola: Do you start with lyrics, melody, or a mood when creating a new song?
Jeffrey Benson: I start with emotion. When I hear a beat, it’s like therapy. Some beats
immediately tell me, “This is sad,” even if I don’t yet know why. Others make me want to flex.
Once the emotion is clear, I freestyle melodies. I have hundreds of voice notes — some I’ve
deleted, others I still revisit. I’ll walk around listening to them and match the vibe with the lyrics
later. The emotion always leads.
Avola: Which emotion do you find hardest to express through music — and how do you
tackle it?
Jeffrey Benson: Grief. I lost my grandmother recently, and though I want to express that pain
musically, it’s hard. I don’t have a fully in-house production setup yet, and sometimes, the beats I
receive don’t match the depth of what I’m trying to say. You can’t force vibes with grief. The
emotion is too real, too personal. I’m still figuring out how to express it properly.
Another tough one is political tension — speaking about Nigeria’s situation. I’ve been waiting for
the right moment and production to channel that. It can’t sound like a rant or a news report. It
has to feel. Those topics — grief and politics — have to be done right. No shortcuts.
Avola: What’s been your proudest moment as an artist?
Jeffrey Benson: It was when my mom played my song for her coworkers. They didn’t
understand a word — but they all danced. Not because she was watching, just because the music
hit. When she told them I was her son, they were stunned. That reaction made her proud, which
in turn made me proud. I’m big on family. This industry can be superficial, but when my nieces
sing my songs or people close to me are touched by the music — that’s what keeps me going.
Avola: If someone only had 3 minutes to listen to Jeffrey Benson, what song would you
play?
Jeffrey Benson: There’s a song called “Original” — it’s not out yet, but it represents a new
chapter for me. It’s different. It’s bold. I think if someone heard that first, they’d be curious about
the rest. But if I had to pick one that’s already out, I’d go with “Living My Life”. It’s authentic,
universally relatable, and has a sound that resonates beyond cultural borders. It’s chill, soulful,
and speaks truth.
Avola: What’s something people often misunderstand about being an independent artist?
Jeffrey Benson: People think it’s just about freedom. But being independent means wearing
every hat. You’re the artist, the marketer, the manager, the strategist. It drains your time and
energy. When I say I’m independent, I mean no manager, no marketing team — just me. Not by
choice, but because I’m still building. It limits how much I can put out. I know I could do more
with better support. Also, it’s expensive. You’re funding everything from your own pocket while
competing with industry machines. The creativity is there, but the system can hold you back.
Avola: What does success look like to you — and has that vision changed over time?
Jeffrey Benson: Absolutely. When I was 15, success was just getting my songs played in school
or shared with friends. I didn’t dream big. Now, success means being true to myself. In 20 years, I
want to look back and feel proud of my choices — even the failures, as long as I stayed authentic.
Success isn’t just being big — it’s being real. Staying rooted while becoming a light to others.
Avola: How do you deal with creative blocks or self-doubt?
Jeffrey Benson: Imposter syndrome is real. But what helps me is habit. I sit at my desk daily.
Maybe nothing happens on day one. But by day five, something always comes. I also take myself
on “artist dates.” I’ll go to a park, a museum, just to be around creativity. I write my doubts down,
then write affirmations that challenge them. Sometimes, I just revisit my old songs — to remind
myself why I started. I picture that younger me, the kid who stayed up all night dreaming. I can’t
fail him. That’s what keeps me pushing forward.
Avola: If you could collaborate with your younger self, what kind of track would you both
create?
Jeffrey Benson: Definitely a fusion of rap, afrobeats, and R&B. When I was younger, I was
experimenting with everything. Now I don’t even listen to Western music much, but combining
the old me and current me would create something crazy. That’s the concept behind my
upcoming project After Six — merging the Lagos and Toronto influences into a sound that
resonates globally and back home.
Avola: What’s one guilty pleasure song you secretly vibe to?
Jeffrey Benson: There’s this South African song — “On My Knees” by Lily Faith or something
similar. I play it back-to-back, even though it’s completely outside my usual style. I’d never make
a song like that, but I love it.
Avola: In an alternate universe where you couldn’t do music, what would you be doing?
Jeffrey Benson: Something creative, for sure. Maybe app development — tools that help artists
or entrepreneurs. Or acting, even. I don’t know if I’d be good at it, but I’d give it a shot. I know I
need to create. I’d suffocate if I couldn’t. I think I’d still be storytelling in some way — maybe
through film or dance. Something that lets me express emotion and connect with people, even
without words. Creativity is the heartbeat, whether it’s music or not.
Avola: Complete the sentence: “Jeffrey Benson is not just a singer, he’s…”
Jeffrey Benson: An overall creative.…a storyteller and a student of sound. And I’d add —
someone who’s just getting started.
