ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: Ni Maxine

With her new single Time, Ni Maxine turns introspection into liberation. Blending soul, jazz, and storytelling, she unpacks what it means to be called “strong” while feeling vulnerable, exploring the shared exhaustion of Black womanhood and the power in slowing down. From her church beginnings in Bristol to headlining stages across the UK, Ni has carved out a space that’s honest, timeless, and fiercely her own. We caught up with the Jazz FM Breakthrough Act to talk about the making of Time, the evolution of her artistry, and how she’s redefining strength on her own terms.

Your new single Time is described as both personal and socially charged. What was the first spark that inspired it?

I was called ‘strong’ during a moment of vulnerability, that is the moment where the seed was sown for this song because it made me start to examine what it meant to be strong and then what it meant to be a Black woman and a strong Black woman.

"And then I started to really examine what the Black woman's existence is. And one of the themes that kept coming up was of constantly having to work and running out of time. And so there was this element of exploring my history and my mum's history and my grandma's history and my great auntie's history, but also exploring this concept of being a strong Black woman. All from a moment when I was called strong when I was being vulnerable"

The track began as a confrontation with the Strong Black Woman archetype and grew into a reflection on collective exhaustion. How did that evolution feel?

It was deeply personal and uncomfortable at times. Writing it made me look at things I hadn’t fully faced -  like how my mum was always working and what that cost us as a family. That evolution turned the song into something bigger than me; it became about our shared exhaustion, our need to rest, and the idea that vulnerability is a form of resistance.

You’ve been crowned Breakthrough Act of the Year at the Jazz FM Awards alongside artists like Ezra Collective and Jalen N'Gonda. What was that moment like?

I just remember giggling because I was quite overwhelmed by it! I wasn't expecting to win that award and it really pushed me to continue pursuing this career because it's not easy. Everyone always looks at what you're doing on social media and says, “oh, it's going so well” and they don't really see what happens behind the scenes and how many late nights you have and what you have to put into it. But, little bits of recognition like that along the way really helped me in terms of giving me a confidence boost. It's just nice to kind of be celebrated in the same breath as other artists that I really admire. It’s really special to be part of the rising UK jazz and soul community.

Your vocals have been compared to the late Minnie Riperton. How do you balance vulnerability with fierce determination on stage and in the studio?

I think when I'm on stage, I'm channeling the emotions that I'm experiencing and, for me, there isn't much of a focus on a perfect sound because ultimately it exists in that moment and it's real and it's a human connection in the room. And then there is a really different thing that happens in the studio. When you're in that live setting with all of those instruments and you've got a live mix, your voice is allowed to be, to exist! Ofcourse,  It's allowed to be whatever it is in any setting, but essentially you end up pushing yourself more vocally when you're in a live setting because there are lots of different factors to compete with. Whereas in a studio setting, certainly when I was making this project, I was recording my voice in an isolated environment and I was able to precisely control the levels of all of the other instrumentation. So it meant that I didn't have to push my voice in the same way. I was able to tap into delicate tones and softer delivery, which translates my emotions in a different way, say, in someone's headphones than it would if I was singing live.

From church beginnings in Liverpool to headline shows in London, how has your journey shaped your sound?

My church beginning was actually in Bristol, where I was raised. And, really, church was a training ground for me in terms of learning how to sing, learning about music in a informal way, but getting to understand melody and harmony and learning by ear. That really set me up for having a career in music. The next step for me was in school, joining the choir, chamber choir, and also having some singing lessons, which my godmother very kindly supported me with. On the weekends, I was lucky enough to go to acting, singing and dancing classes. Stagecoach, The Big Act, and Pop Academy, and Bristol School of Performing Arts. I really tried all of them! It was great to be able to explore performance skills and how we express character and emotion on stage. All of these little stepping stones throughout my childhood prepared me for the moments where I find myself on huge stages, performing for a huge crowd and needing to get a message across. I feel so lucky to have had that training in my formative years. And then later on my life, swaying away from Christianity and religion, I was singing at open mic nights in bars, and pubs with the local jazz band, and then after moving to London and singing for hours at Jazz After Dark in Soho. Again, it was on-the-ground training, singing to rooms with hardly any people in them, and learning, building resilience on stage. Those are the experiences that you'll never forget. And when you look back you think, “wow, now I'm selling out shows in my own name, and people are coming to hear me sing my songs.” It just feels like an amazing journey.

You’ve performed at We Out Here, Africa Oyé, and supported Corinne Bailey Rae. Is there a standout live memory that still gives you goosebumps?

Gosh, it's really hard to think of a standout moment, but it probably would have been Africa Oye, in Liverpool, when I played it for the second time. My mum and sister were there with me backstage, and some of my family who were visiting from overseas were also there with my Great auntie Margaret, who was having her first ever festival experience! I just feel like the fact that me doing my performance brought my family together in that way was so special because we're all so scattered across the globe, but that was a real moment of unity, and that's always my intention with music is to bring people together. Bringing my family together is such like a big thing, it's something that I would love to do more, but it's challenging in more ways than one! I'll never forget that day. Being backstage with my mum and sister, like I said, if I could have them with me for every show I would be so happy and relaxed, I think… Also Sean Kuti was there, and it was just so cool to meet him before his set, and to be sharing a line-up with him."

The video for Time is visually stunning. How do you approach translating emotion into a visual story?

I really lean into my community in the process of translating my music into a visual space. There's a real collaborative process that happens. For ‘Time’, it started with a conversation about the world that we build around this song and we wanted it to feel a little bit surreal. We wanted people to be able to watch the video and step into an alternative world, a parallel universe where they were surrounded by a community of people who were walking the same path as them, moving towards a life where we can take control of our lives and our time. We felt like the red tights were a strong symbol of movement, forward motion and stepping together towards something better. For me, so much of capturing the essence of the song is around how I deliver the performance and that the emotion that I feel that comes across in my facial expressions. I really have to find that in me on the day and that's sometimes challenging. We shot the video at The Olympia in Liverpool. I wanted a space that felt elegant and grand, but also a bit rough around the edges - something that really represented me. The Olympia was perfect; it felt real, familiar, and close to where I live, yet in its own way, it also carried a sense of aspiration. That’s a whole other story in itself.

You often record family conversations for inspiration. What’s the most surprising wisdom you’ve captured?

Gosh, I honestly couldn't tell you right now. There's so much and I really need to go through my voice notes, so you'll have to keep an eye on my website, on my blog, and all my upcoming releases, because I think I'll be exploring those conversations in my art for years to come. For me, the most inspiring and empowering thing when I'm speaking with my family is to uncover history. My family history. I ask questions and learn about my great-grandparents and my mum - their journeys to the UK and everything they went through. It helps me understand the traumas my family have experienced, and how those experiences might still be affecting me, even after generations. So much of my art and my intention with my art is to break generational trauma, and I hope that I can do that not only for myself and my family, but for the wider Black community globally. I feel like we're so often trapped in cycles that we're sometimes not even aware of, and I think through my art I want to shine a light on those things, and do what I can to improve things for the next generation, and that's the reason, isn't it? It's sometimes easy to forget why we do all of this stuff, but that is the reason.

Your music tackles themes of identity, home, and self worth. Which of these themes is closest to your heart right now?

‘Home, Identity and Self-worth… which of these is closest to my heart right now? I think they all are in equal measure. But let's say, for now, ‘home’. I really love being at home here in Liverpool. And the more I am here, the more comfortable and supported I feel. I find it challenging because there are often things, work-wise, that pull me away from being at home. I was away for like nearly a month over September and October, and I was having a wonderful time in moments, but all I could think was, ‘I'm looking forward to going home’. When you're working as an artist, people think it's so glamorous, but I think the most glamorous thing about it is being at home. 

For so much of my life, like when I was raised in Bristol and when I lived in London, I didn't ever feel at home. I didn't ever have an environment that I felt reflected who I am and like made me feel held and safe and inspired. And that's something I always really struggled with. And it's only since moving to Liverpool, and moving close to where my mum was raised, that I was able to find a place that actually felt like home and was sustainable for me. I think it’s really important for everyone, at some point, to uproot themselves from what they’ve always known as home in order to find their own version of paradise, the place where they truly feel they belong. It’s a scary thing to do, but I feel privileged to even have the chance to explore it.

How has recognition from Rolling Stone, NME, VEVO, Jazz FM, and the MOBO Organisation influenced your creative process?

Getting recognition from those publications and organisations really helps me feel like I’m on the right track. There will always be different opinions and ways to be more successful in certain spaces, but I try not to let that influence the art too much. For me, it’s all about the feeling the art creates. Ultimately, I do believe that if I share, if I continue to share my art and my story, that people who are supposed to find my music will find it. It's a long process. It's not full of quick and easy wins, but I do believe that music has the power to save people's lives because it saved my life. I hope that in the same way music reached me in my darkest times, that my music will reach people who need to hear it. And I suppose that’s what’s inspiring me most right now - to stay authentic, to keep sharing my story and my reasons for doing this, and to trust that the music will find the people who need it.

You’ve gained significant radio support from BBC Radio 1, Jamz Supernova on 6 Music, and Selector Radio. How important has radio been in sharing your sound?

Radio has always been a great place to figure out where your music sits amongst other music that's out there in the world. Early on, when I discovered the BBC Uploader. I didn't really understand the whole process around making a record, having it mixed and mastered and everything. I just was writing this music with some musicians and put it on the Uploader. It was very political, and it was picked up by Victoria Jane at the time, who was sitting in on BBC introducing Radio 1, and she chose it as the tip of the week. This was a song called Justice, which was written about what was going on in 2020, and she played it on Radio 1! It was played across the country, and I remember feeling completely blown away, like, “wow, our song is on the radio!” I never thought that would happen, let alone so easily. Looking back, I realise it happened because we created something meaningful and timely, something that truly resonated with people.

Maybe people just passively listened, but I hope it affected them positively in some way, and I think it laid the foundation for me to have a career where my music is played on radio. I don’t even question whether it will be played now. Different people will connect with it in different ways, but I know there will always be someone who loves the music enough to play it on the radio. That’s a real privilege, one I should never take for granted.

Your single Time is described as an act of defiance. What do you hope listeners take away from it?

I want people to really listen to the lyrics of this song. I hope that it sparks realisations around, how they, I say ‘they’, but how ‘we’ choose to live our lives. For me, this song has been a journey, and it's really evolved with me over the years as my life has changed. The version that exists now in the world came off the back of having worked in quite a toxic environment, which made me feel like my work, ideas and contributions were never enough and that I needed to work over time to achieve something that was completely unattainable. I think we’re so often put in that position, especially during times of financial crisis, when employers are making cuts, letting people go, and the pressure on workers is heavier than ever. 

I think it's so important for us to not get caught up in that, because we'll kill ourselves working to build someone else's dream. And then we forget about ourselves and our own aspirations and dreams and our healing and our families and the people we love. 

What I am saying with ‘Time’ is, don't forget about all those  important things because you're focusing on work. Work is not the be all and end all. Take back your time. That is the defiance. It's saying, no, I'm not. I'm not subscribing to this thing which expects me to give my life away for small change where I still struggle to find joy in daily life. I'm rejecting that. And I hope that other people will hear it and feel inspired to prioritise the things that are important in their life before it's too late.

You’ve been called a Black woman at the forefront of the UK scene. How do you embrace that role in your music and messaging?

I embrace that role by being authentic about my own experience as a Black British woman and using my music to spark conversations and leave a legacy. It’s about lifting others up, just like those who came before me inspired me — people like Sheila Maurice-Grey, Corinne Bailey Rae, and Laura Mvula. It’s about creating pathways and a culture of support.

Soul, jazz, and storytelling all blend in your music. Are there any new genres or sounds you’re excited to explore next?

When I performed at the Royal Albert Hall, one of my close friends joked that I was in my “rock star era,” which really made me laugh. But maybe there’s some truth in that. Lately, I’ve been drawn to exploring my West African roots, the rhythms, sounds and energy, and finding ways to weave those influences into my music while staying true to the jazz and soul I grew up with. I’d love to visit Nigeria one day to connect with the music of my motherland and let it inform and enrich my sound even more.

If Time could start a movement, what would that movement look like and how would people join in?

Everyone would be wearing red tights and stepping together! Haha! But on a more serious note, that movement would be about people realising that our time on this earth is limited and that we have to choose how we spend it. We have to value our time, value ourselves, know our worth, and take back our time. It would look like more people saying, “I’ve finished for the day, I’m going to down tools and focus on my wellbeing. I’m going to go to therapy, exercise, spend time with loved ones, eat well, and prepare for the week ahead.” These are the small, intentional acts that make up a life of purpose—things we lose sight of when we’re consumed by work, money, and survival. I want this movement to inspire people to create space in their lives to thrive, not just survive.