Let’s start at the beginning – who was Big Brains, and how did he evolve into Gbono?

Big Brains was the fire of youth – raw ambition, unfiltered energy. I got the name around 2004/2005. I was young, hungry and daring. But life humbled me. Chasing dreams is overwhelmingly expensive, especially without a silver spoon. Your emotions, money and time all get depleted.

Gbono is what happens when the fire doesn’t die… it just matures.

Back in school, I had a clothing line called Gbono Clothing (Gbono means “hot” in Yoruba) and people started calling me that. The name stuck… it was catchy, memorable. So when it was time to rebrand, it felt natural. Same fire. Same grit. Just renewed purpose.

What moment made you feel ready to return to music and release this project now?

I don’t think there was a single moment… it was more like a slow ache. The lines and melodies kept writing themselves.

Being a dreamchaser; especially in Nigeria, comes with a whole lot of arcs: highs, lows, laughs, tears. The journey itself just kept calling me back.

I knew I wasn’t done. And once I had too much to say –  not just to make music, but to mean something – I knew I couldn’t keep shying away anymore.

How has your personal journey shaped the sound and stories we hear on Maybe A Little Longer?

Every line on this EP came from real places – homelessness, hustle, hope, heartbreak and healing. I’ve slept on floors, missed meals, chased dreams with nothing but faith.

Between 2015 and 2020, I was terribly depressed. I hit one of my lowest points. I questioned everything – my choices, my future, my worth. I had nothing but the dream… and even that felt bleak.

This tape isn’t fiction. It’s a diary wrapped in rhythm.

Maybe A Little Longer isn’t your typical debut title. What’s the story behind it?

The title speaks to the wait. I’ve been trying to get here for nearly two decades.

But instead of seeing delay as denial, I embraced it.

Instead of giving up… maybe just hang on a little?

Maybe A Little Longer became both a prayer and a promise – that when it’s time, it’ll be worth it.

Each track on the EP feels intentional. How did you decide which songs made the cut?

I’m a very intentional person; I’ve never been a fan of fillers, so I didn’t want any. Every track had to feel necessary.

I chose songs that represented different parts of my story:

6,6 is the cry; so it had to open the journey.

Far & Wide is the faith.

Nigerian is the fight.

Mezebu is the release.

Tonight is the calm after the storm.

Nigerian stands out as a powerful critique — what inspired you to include such a politically charged track on a debut?

Because silence is complicity. If you’ve followed me on X since before 2015 (before my account got hacked recently), you’d know I’ve always been vocal about the need for a better Nigeria.

I wrote the first verse of Nigerian on a bus – heading to where I was squatting at the time. I was broke, homeless, and tired… just watching how hard it is to simply survive here.

Nigerian is a cry for better leadership, but also a challenge to us,  the people – to care louder.

Your music blends raw storytelling with spiritual undertones — how do you balance vulnerability and rhythm?

I actually don’t see them as opposites; vulnerability is rhythm.

It’s what gives the music weight. It’s the core.

I want people to vibe and still feel seen, heard and understood.

That’s the goal: groove with truth.

You’ve spoken about leading with stillness and purpose. How do those values translate into your sound and visuals?

Stillness reminds me not to chase trends.

Purpose reminds me who I am and who I need to speak to.

My visuals aren’t just aesthetics – they’re extensions of the message.

Whether it’s cover art or a live set, it has to say something beyond “look at me.”

What does faith mean to you — and how does it show up in your lyrics and life?

You hear it in Far & Wide, you feel it in 6, even in Tonight.

Right now, faith is the only thing keeping me going because this journey often feels like a tunnel without an end or even light at the end.

So, even when the path doesn’t make sense, you hold on to God.

Many times, that’s all you’ve got.

What kind of legacy are you hoping to build with Headline Music and this debut?

I want Headline Music to stand for entertainment, quality, and depth;  music that speaks to both soul and street.

The legacy starts with honesty. If I stay true to that, the movement will grow.

And I want it to outlive me.

This debut reflects exactly where I am right now – what I’m trying to express, and what I’m building toward.

I want Maybe A Little Longer to be referenced decades from now; for its quality, sonic diversity, storytelling, truth, and audacity.

If someone listens to Maybe A Little Longer five years from now, what do you hope they take away from it?

That I was real. That I spoke my truth.

That this wasn’t just instruments and vocals on mp3 files… it was someone telling raw stories, speaking from the heart, sharing his life.

If five years from now, even one person hears their story in mine… then I did what I came here to do.