Bukola Soars on The Confessions of an Antisocial Butterfly

Every week after school when Bukola was a teenager, she’d go to the open mic night at the Gallagher’s Cafe in Port Moody. She listened to artists performing the music of Frank Ocean, Daniel Caesar, and SZA, and then went home to learn how to play those songs, some she’d just heard for the first time. She taught herself how to play the guitar in middle school—right handed, even though she’s a leftie like Jimi Hendrix, one of her all-time favourites—and she’d been writing long before that, dreaming of becoming a singer. But those open mic nights opened her mind up in a way that nothing else had before—it set Bukola on a new path of musical discovery and, in turn, self-discovery that would shape her artistry for years to come.

Now, on Bukola’s newly released sophomore EP, The Confessions of an Antisocial Butterfly, the rising musician, singer, and songwriter tells a coming-of-age story through her perspective as a Nigerian Canadian girl who grew up in the suburbs. The album follows the format of a fictitious radio show, 101.6 Hogan’s Alley FM, guided by DJ 604, voiced by Angeline Tetteh-Wayoe, host of CBC Radio’s The Block, who takes calls from 20-somethings sharing their own growing pains in between Bukola’s beautifully insightful songs.

“I knew that I wanted to be super honest and vulnerable with this project, and so, as a result, a lot of the songs are about my coming-of-age insecurities,” Bukola, herself in her early 20s, tells NUVO. She has always sought to build connection through her art, and so the radio concept, she explains, was a way of supporting that as a platform for sharing. “That’s where it came from—trying to create a sense of community.”

It was also important for her to ground the album in Vancouver, proudly representing the city from its area code to Hogan’s Alley, in tribute to the city’s historic Black neighbourhood. A few years ago, Bukola found herself fixated on Toronto—that it was where she needed to be if she wanted to become a musician in Canada, if she wanted to become an R&B artist, in particular, in Canada. She found herself almost resenting her hometown.

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“I didn’t really like that,” Bukola admits. “I had to take some time and learn and grow and realize Vancouver is incredible. Jimi Hendrix’s grandmother had roots here, which is so cool—I think it’s something not a lot of people know about,” she adds, noting that she hopes referencing Hogan’s Alley inspires people to learn more about its rich history.

 

Bukola grew up in Coquitlam. Before music, her first love was writing stories. When her elementary school classmates went out for recess, she would stay inside, writing furiously, creativity flowing. The music part came shortly after, at nine, when she came across Willow Smith’s music video for “Whip My Hair.” Bukola says, “It was life-changing for me.” She knew then that she wanted to be a singer and that, to do so, her stories needed to be turned into songs.

“Over time, it’s evolved into a medium for expressing my feelings and turning emotions, that may not be the best at the time, into something beautiful,” Bukola says about her writing process. “And it’s a way to connect with other people, as well. I tend to stumble over my words a lot in conversation, but then writing gives me a chance to be eloquent and to share my story in such a way that empowers me and makes me feel confident. I’m really grateful for songwriting—and writing in general.”

It wouldn’t take too long for her musical dreams to start coming true. In 2018, at just 16, she won the grand prize at Battle of the Bands (a prestigious competition from the Juno Host Committee and Nimbus School of Recording Arts). Performances at showcases like Honey Jam and features on soundtracks of shows like Ginny & Georgia followed, as well as the release of her debut EP, 2021’s The Chronicles of a Teenage Mind.

On The Confessions of an Antisocial Butterfly, which features songs co-written with Desirée Dawson and Hope Tala, as well as spoken word poetry by Desiree Mckenzie, Bukola navigates universally relatable themes like the pressure of expectations (“Could’ve Been a Doctor”) and the rush of experiencing independence for the first time (“Taste of Freedom”), while also speaking directly to her personal experiences. “There aren’t a lot of Black people where I live, and so a lot of the songs kind of talk about that, like ‘Sidelines,’ for example,” she says, referring to the album’s piano- and groove-driven ballad. “This idea of just never having been in love before and how that feels, as a Black woman.”

Bukola channels influences like India Arie, Amy Winehouse, and Corrine Bailey Rae especially through her voice, which is gorgeously warm, brimming with emotion, and powerful with soul. The musical arrangements are just enough—finger-picked guitar, feel-good beats, arrangements of strings and horns—to complement Bukola’s smooth delivery of heartfelt lyrics.

“Go easy on me, I just learned how to fly,” her voice soars on the title track, over gentle strums. “I’ve been falling and fighting, growing and hiding, but I’m still finding my way.”

Bukola notes that “no one really tells you when you’re 19, 20, that this is a time in your life where everyone’s paths really diverge in very stark ways.” On “Girls Like You,” she tenderly expresses the self-doubt that inevitably comes with comparing yourself to others, especially when it appears as though everyone else has it all figured out.

“A lot of these decisions are super huge—I had friends that were going to the States for school or starting their residencies for med school. And then I was here, writing songs, recording, and going to school at the same time, but not seeing the same results as someone who is taking a more traditional path. And so that was really hard for me.”

In DJ 604’s sign-off, she says she hopes listeners feel seen and heard. It’s a sentiment echoed by Bukola, too, in what she hopes people take away from The Confessions of an Antisocial Butterfly.

“I think a lot of these experiences when I was going through them at the time—and sometimes I still do—it can feel really isolating, especially with comparing yourself to others,” she says. “It can feel like you’re the only one that’s unsure about things, that you’re behind and everyone else is ahead. But everyone is feeling the same way, or has felt that way at some point.”

Trust yourself and your intuition, she adds. “You’re not alone, and it’s okay.”

Photographs by Brandon William Fletcher.

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