Keoni Usi on Becoming, Unlearning, and Letting the Music Lead
By. Alicia Zamora
In an exclusive interview conducted by Alicia’s Studio, I had the privilege of sitting down with rising artist Keoni Usi—an artist whose approach to music feels as instinctive as it is intentional. What started as a spontaneous conversation quickly unfolded into something more personal: a reflection on identity, self-doubt, and the quiet process of becoming.
From the moment he began speaking, Keoni didn’t try to present himself as someone who had it all figured out. Instead, he leaned into uncertainty.
“I never thought I’d do music… it just kind of happened,” he admits. “It’s only been three months, but a lot has happened.”
That honesty becomes the foundation of everything he creates.
Finding Music by Accident—and Staying for the Feeling
Keoni’s entry into music wasn’t planned—it was pushed into motion by the people around him. From being encouraged into an open mic by his younger brother to a chance encounter with his now-manager, his journey feels less like a decision and more like a series of moments he chose to follow.
“I just liked performing,” he says simply. “And then everything started happening really fast.”
Despite the speed of his growth, there’s a sense that Keoni is still processing it in real time—learning how to exist inside something that’s moving quicker than expected.
What stands out most in conversation is how Keoni describes music—not just as something he creates, but as something he uses to understand himself.
“I’m naturally an unserious person,” he explains. “The more jokes I make in person, the more I’m probably not that happy in my head.”
That contrast—between who he appears to be and what he actually feels—becomes a driving force in his music. It’s where the vulnerability comes from.
“I don’t have to drag that into real life,” he says. “But through music, I can let people know how I actually feel.”
That openness doesn’t just stay one-sided. When listeners respond, it shifts something for him too.
“I’ve had people send me paragraphs about how they interpret my songs… and I’m like, that’s not even what I wrote it about,” he laughs. “But seeing them get vulnerable with me—it makes me realize I’m not the only one going through things.”
The Balance Between Meaning and Play
Keoni doesn’t treat every song the same—and he doesn’t think he should. Some songs are deeply personal, almost therapeutic, while others are created purely out of joy.
“Some projects are like therapy for me,” he explains. “And then other songs… we’re just having fun and something good comes out of it.”
That duality shows up clearly in his work. Tracks like “Convenience” carry emotional weight, rooted in feelings of being a burden to others.
“A lot of people can relate to feeling like they’re too much,” he says. “Like no matter what you do, it’s not right for the people around you.”
But then there are songs like “Air It Out,” born from late-night conversations and a desire to keep things light—even when relationships get complicated.
“It’s kind of like… can we just not argue?” he says. “Like, I know you’re mad, but can we just enjoy what we’re doing?”
That contrast—depth and ease, heaviness and humor—is what makes his artistry feel real rather than constructed.
Learning to Slow Down in a Fast-Moving World
Despite his early momentum, one of Keoni’s biggest challenges has been internal rather than external.
“I compare myself a lot,” he admits. “I look at artists I admire and think I should be there already… but I’ve only been doing this for three months.”
It’s a mindset he’s actively trying to unlearn.
“I have to remind myself—just let the journey happen. Don’t rush it.”
That idea—letting things unfold naturally—comes up repeatedly in his perspective on both music and life.
“Nobody knows what they’re doing,” he says, almost laughing. “Everyone’s just hoping things work out.”
At its core, Keoni’s goal isn’t centered around numbers, status, or even success in the traditional sense. It’s about connection—real, human connection.
“All I want is for people to feel comfortable talking to me,” he says. “Like they hear my music and feel like they can call me.”
That intention extends beyond just listeners. He speaks often about wanting to uplift others—especially within his own community.
“I want to be a gateway,” he explains. “There are so many talented Filipino artists… I just want to help bring them through, too.”
Looking Ahead Without Forcing What’s Next
Even with an album already finished—just months into his career—Keoni isn’t rushing to release it. For him, the project is bigger than the music itself.
“It was a film first, then an album,” he says. “I want to build the world around it properly.”
That patience reflects a deeper understanding: that timing matters just as much as creation.
At the end of it all, Keoni doesn’t want to be seen as untouchable or larger than life. If anything, he wants the opposite.
“I’m just a normal dude,” he says. “Just be a good person… have good intentions. That’s really it.”
And maybe that’s what makes his music resonate so quickly—it doesn’t feel like it’s trying to be anything other than honest.
Because for Keoni, this isn’t about having all the answers.
It’s about being willing to figure it out out loud.