Raf-Saperra isn't bending for the industry – the industry is bending for him

Raf-Saperra moves with a conviction that could come off as arrogance, if it weren’t so undeniably rooted in pure obsession with craft. His foundation is double-edged: years of classical Hindustani musical training, stretching his voice and ear through discipline, and his South London upbringing dominated by rap, grime, and garage. That tension runs through everything he does – whether shooting Sidhu Moose Wala videos or dragging Punjabi folk into conversation with Bhangra, hip-hop, qawwali, and grime. His catalogue doesn’t march forward neatly; it mutates, drifting into new shapes, each release arriving like a chapter he only writes when it feels necessary.

Renaissance is the newest chapter, and maybe his boldest – it’s his take on pop. Made with Ikky, it doesn’t abandon roots but reframes them, pushing Punjabi music into brighter, catchier spaces without smoothing away its grit. It makes sense for someone who’s never circled the same ground twice: for Saperra, heritage is alive and restless, and every project is a chance to prove that tradition and innovation are complementary forces.

Hi! How are you doing? How does it feel to come down after a period of touring?
Just making sure I’m not lost in all the movement. In 2023, we focused mainly on North America and the UK, and last year we went from New Zealand to Australia and the UAE, then to the UK, the US, and Canada. Given all this travelling, my main intention for this year was to be in one place. I’m still getting back into routines. I don’t think I saw the gym last year, so it’s nice to kind of get back, check up on my people, and most importantly, my friends. We’re planning a little camping trip.

Super nice, are you usually a fan of camping?
I’m not a fanatic about bees. I mean, I like bees, I like what they do, and how they contribute to society. But in general, miss me with all that buzzing and flying around stuff. Hopefully, I don’t get traumatised by that. The main point is being out in the wilderness with my friends, cooking, and working on survival skills, and these aspects all sound fun.

Always good to touch some grass, and I’m sure you’ll survive. Let’s take a step back from the wilderness and into the music studio. Can you tell me a bit more about the Renaissance EP? What inspired it, and what has the process been like for you?
It’s my first project that’s entirely produced by a single producer. Not only was this just one producer, but it’s probably one of the leading names of Punjabi music, Ikky. He has a phenomenal sound. You could say it’s a sonic rebirth of anything I’ve done before, which has been rooted in the more folk, traditional elements of Punjabi music, but also had a very gritty, underground swing of hip-hop. This EP presents you Raf Saperra diving into the world of Punjabi pop for the first time. It’s almost like a baby album. 

What can we expect to hear on it?
It has a lot of variety: one sad joint on there, one dance floor bhangra tune, and three other songs that are very radio-friendly, clean, and just very colourful. I think that was a nice touch to add to my discography, something very different. But it’s still unapologetically me. I do think my core audience enjoys it, and through such a global sound that the EP encapsulates, I really got to find a new audience as well. 

What inspired this sonic turn?
I’ve always treated my body of work as films because I come from a directing background. I kind of became a singer accidentally during COVID. But prior to that, a lot of my work was based in screenwriting, storytelling, and directing short films and music videos. That’s what really inspired me to make Renaissance. It’s not about me conforming to what pop should sound like, but rather having pop come to us. We still maintain all the elements that make me me, like the fashion in the lead music video “Step Out”. We had an editorial shoot that felt like it was on steroids – it genuinely felt like a fever dream. We also used this opportunity to challenge what existing beauty standards are currently in Punjabi music videos and show that world something very different. I’ve been a massive fan of genre film directors like Howard Hawks, Quentin Tarantino, Brian De Palma – they’ve all made movies in various genres, but it’s always so undeniably them. Looking back at my own works before the Renaissance, I dropped an EP which was very R&B, Sufi, and soul-oriented. Before that, I also dropped one that was very underground hip-hop-inspired. So with this current EP, I think it was the right flavour to the mix of the things I’ve dabbled in. I’ve been very fortunate that the audience liked it, and the risk paid off.

That’s really important because there’s a lot of pressure for artists to be pigeonholed or fall under this representation wave, particularly non-white artists. It’s nice to see this bravery in exploring other genres and refusing to be put in a box.
That’s something I never wanted to be happening to me from the get-go. I have come up through the UK, mainly through my bhangra-oriented tracks, and that will always be the core ingredient of what I do. However, releasing singles and releasing bodies of work are two different disciplines. I don’t think I’ve allowed my audience to overindulge in one sound when I release a tape. That could be a risk, then you become known for one sound, and you’re pressured to keep releasing the same tracks. But, for example, when we see Johnny Depp as Edward Scissorhands, or Captain Jack Sparrow, or even John Dillinger, in Public Enemies, we don’t bat an eyelid. It’s the same, just a different story. And according to the story, he wears this suit. Similarly, the music I release is also a story, and according to that, we take on a suit as well. It might be something romantic, something commercial, it may be something dark and gritty – they all still come from the same vessel, which is me.

Have you ever experienced any challenges in merging your culture and upbringing?
I’ve grown up in South London, and there’s not a massive South Asian community over here. So I just naturally got used to what things were. A lot of my friends were from an African or Caribbean background. My home environment was very Punjabi, also because I’m a first-generation immigrant. Whether it was the food, the language, the media consumption, or the music ranging from Bollywood stuff to Punjabi stuff – it was all something I was taking on, I didn’t really have a choice. My schooling years were in the 2000s, so not only were we seeing what was going on in the US at the time with the G-Unit, 50 Cent, and Dipset, we also had the bubbling UK grime scene. Gangs were also releasing music, whether that was O.C. to Dipset, but you know, just seeing all of these things in the early 2000s undeniably shaped me. My music draws from so many influences because I’m a product of so many influences and cultures.

Has it ever felt scary releasing something that never existed before?
Yes, I guess it can be. I was quite apprehensive about this EP I released now. I know it sounds cliché to say that I make this music for myself, but I am. At the same time, I understand that there’s a commerce aspect to it. There are critics and people who will question if I lost track of who I am. But now I’m also four projects deep, and I’ve built this reputation in the industry that I’m a rule-breaker. I performed at the Jazz Cafe Festival last Sunday, and I was the only non-English performing artist over there, as far as I know. I was on before Benny the Butcher was gonna headline, and I swear to you, I was a bit cautious. I did make it a more hip-hop-oriented set, but I was singing in a different language. And it went off completely. I was walking around in London a few days after that, and I had people who are not Punjabi recognise me. I think that was just a really rewarding part of this risk, seeing how it transcends outside of the parameters of South Asian music. 

As much as the South Asian scene has been booming in London, especially through dance and electronic music, I also feel like there’s this notorious ceiling of breaking through to non-Asian audiences. What’s your experience been like?
I agree, but I think one thing people do understand is aura. At the end of the day, besides the Punjabi aspects, I’m a South London kid through and through, man. And my people and I carry ourselves with that sense of morality as well. And I think when you’re consciously and tastefully contributing to that culture, people understand where you’re coming from. For example, hip-hop is an undeniably global sound at this point. But it’s undeniably Black music. I feel like when you keep knowledge of the history, and the intention of where this thing came from and what it looks like now, I think people also get real insight into you. And they feel like we can actually connect on another plane. I’m a massive fan of Griselda, and I’ve worked with Conway the Machine. We’ve got something locked in with Benny the Butcher as well. These connections aren’t being made because I want someone to acknowledge that I’m making more non-Punjabi collabs. But it also shows me as part of the audience. For me, it’s like getting all the infinity stones. And if people fuck with it or don’t, that’s cool – these are just the things I want to do. I’m not going out there for the obvious feature, just to draw in some more streams and revenue, even if I maybe should. I’m leaning more towards whoever my kind of heroes and inspirations are on my playlist. And when a collaboration like that happens – between an artist I really love – it’s like wow. I think that’s the biggest thing I can take away from all of this.

I’m also curious about your relationship to classical Punjabi music – you’re still pursuing classical training, right? How does that tie into your artistry?
Yes, that’s something I never left, man. When people see my stuff, it’s not like I trained up to a certain point. I’m still a student. I’ve been formally learning since 2012. I can’t ever stop learning to the point where I’m ready to release music; I don’t think I’ll ever fully learn. So it’s quite vulnerable in the sense that I want my audience to see my growth. From my debut tape to now, I want them to see the difference vocally, to hear an improvement. Behind the scenes, there’s vigorous training taking place, and it’s deeply rooted in classical music. And one thing I think helps is truly knowing your craft, commanding it, and carrying it with confidence. For example, like Rosalia, who’s classically trained in flamenco. And it’s interesting because we might not know what she’s saying, but we know everything she’s saying. Most importantly, we feel what she’s saying. But when you don’t have that control over your craft, people won’t be as susceptible to you or your sound. So that’s what I’ve been trying to maintain. As much as I break new borders and find new lands, I’m also preserving an ancient tradition in this world of South Asian music. But we’re doing it in a fly way, so you can’t be mad at it. 

In a way, you’re also redefining what traditional South Asian music is, adding to the stack of what it can be.
Thank you. There are other noteworthy giants to be mentioned, for example, one of the titans of the music genre called Qawwali, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, a massive name in the world of classical music and Qawwali music. His experimentation in the 90s had such a traditional Sufi sound while working with the likes of Michael Brooks and Peter Gabriel. These guys were our forefathers and really set the pace. They weren’t born and raised in the UK; they were from Faisalabad, Punjab, in Pakistan, and still had such a forward-thinking attitude. I champion that kind of mind state. And even more so as we are diasporic individuals. We’ve been marinated in the West, maybe a little more than our ancestors, and maybe we understand certain things that they won’t, but we also have to comprehend that we might not understand certain things they do. And I think finding that bridge between the older generation and the younger generation, and really listening and communicating with each other, is through culture.

Absolutely! On a similar note, one lyric in Ni Billo really stood out to me – ‘I’ll buy you bangles from London.’ I thought that was such an interesting line, because it captures how London has become this intercultural and intergenerational hub. What struck me even more was your choice of bangles instead of Western brands or something. It feels like you’re saying the most meaningful gift isn’t a designer label but something rooted in your culture – but also something that reflects where you are now, not just a distant place of origin.
Yeah, it’s almost like loosely double entendred, not in the meaning, but me as a London boy flexing on whoever my love interest is in the song’s subject matter, like “yo, listen, from my part of town, I’m gonna get you some fly shit.” On the flip side, it’s also highlighting the more rural village side of things, given that a lot of my immediate family is still based in Punjab. And it’s a massive dream for these people to move to the West, regardless of what our living situation is in the West. It’s such a big thing to say you’re staying in the UK, while they’ve only heard about the place. We’ve grown up seeing, in a sense, this romantic melancholy, in that a lot of our women in traditional Punjabi culture are holding the fort down at home, whilst their husbands have probably gone abroad. So now there is the melancholy of being away from your loved ones for so long. And now he’s probably writing back to her and letting her know that when I come back from London, I’m going to buy you some bangles, I’m gonna spoil you. It’s a line that works for the streets and for the distant lovers who are just living a real reality, but it’s also about London.

And can you tell me a bit more about the music video for Ni Billo?
“Ni Billo” was actually really difficult. In my head, I wanted to make the kind of visuals I grew up on, so very early 2000s heavy commercial MTV look, stuff that Ludacris or Usher was doing. At the same time, this didn’t feel authentic to me. So the result was ensuring that we’re not necessarily deviating too far away from the sound of the song. I wanted to show choreography that I haven’t shown in previous videos. And obviously, as I say in the track, shout out to all my melanin queens. And I want to ensure that something not only is being seen, but felt in my visuals – the rest was just figured out around that. It’s trusting the process of the video team and the directors that we’ve got on board. It also allowed me to draw in the community as well. I basically did a free show. I put up this post, and 700 people ended up reaching out, which was nuts. Shoutout to our manager, who had to read through every single email. But I think that for me was the real highlight of that video. So the music video is actual live footage of me performing. I don’t like calling people fans, you are my supporters. There’s a reason I’m doing this, and it’s undeniably through your support.

Moving on to the final question, is there anything that you’re manifesting or focusing your energy on in the second half of the year now?
There’s a lot of personal manifestations, things that I want in my personal life – certain milestones I’ve set for myself as a man, as a son, as a sibling, as a friend, and who knows, maybe even as a lover. That also goes hand in hand with what I’m creating as an artist. What I was manifesting previously was to give people something unfamiliar, whether that was through a heartfelt body of work or a commercial one. And now I’ve done all that shit.  I like releasing seasonally, and now that winter’s approaching, I want to go a bit more underground, to a more grimier sound – basically show them why I even got popular in the first place. Just as I say to everyone, man, and what we say in Punjabi – keep me in your prayers. There’s morality attached to everything, and all of this fly shit comes to an end eventually. But I hope that the decline is elongated, and that I build a lot of beautiful relationships on the way. Most importantly, I hope to keep my intentions and my morals clean. Amen.