From capturing the crown on the debut season of The Rapper to crafting hit tracks like “Baddie” and defining his sound on PARTYNARY, Thai hip-hop powerhouse IRONBOY has continuously pushed the boundaries of his art. Seamlessly blending sharp freestyle lyricism, high-energy stage craft, and deep storytelling, he has established himself as one of Southeast Asia’s most compelling urban music exports.

As he prepares to take the stage at THE A FESTIVAL in Paris, bringing Thailand’s modern hip-hop culture to an international audience, we sat down with the artist to talk about what keeps him grounded. In this candid interview, IRONBOY opens up about his home studio environment, the influence of traditional Thai folk forms like Pleng Choi, his dream session with Michael Jackson, and why authentic living will always beat literary fiction when writing a hit.

Your journey has taken you from winning The Rapper to evolving your sound across albums like City Boy and PARTYNARY. Beyond a physical location, what emotional or geographical space do you truly consider “home” today—and how does that sense of groundedness surface in your music once the stage lights turn off?

For me, home and work are the same place. My studio is inside my house, so home is where my family lives and where my friends and collaborators come together to create. Some days it’s dinner and conversation, other days it’s a session that runs until morning. That’s what keeps me grounded. When the stage lights go off, I come back to the people who knew me before any of this. That warmth and trust are in the music too. You can hear when a song was made among people who care about each other.

If the abstract concept of home were actually a rapper with its own voice, attitude, and flow, how would that artist sound? What stories would they tell on a track, and what energy would they bring into a collaboration with you?

Home would be a rapper with two sides. On one side, fun, joyful, and full of excitement: the kind of energy that makes everyone in the room want to move. On the other, cozy and completely chill, like you can finally breathe out. That balance is what I’d want in a collaboration. Someone who can hype the track up, then bring it back down and make you feel safe. Those are the best feelings home gives you, and I think they’d make a great song.

Is there a specific book, a hidden literary gem, or a piece of storytelling discovered in a quiet corner of a library that left a lasting imprint on you? Something that may never be directly sampled or quoted, but subtly drives the narrative DNA of your lyrics and visual style?

Honestly, my stories didn’t come from a library. They came from living. The people I grew up with, the nights out, the ups and downs: that’s where the narrative DNA of my lyrics comes from. I write what I’ve been through, and I think that’s why people connect with it.

If you could travel back in time to sit in the studio with any deceased musical legend—regardless of genre or background, whether an iconic Thai artist or an international pioneer—who would you choose, and what unexpected chemistry do you think would unfold between your two worlds?

Michael Jackson. To me, he was a complete artist. He didn’t just make songs; he built whole worlds around his albums, from the visuals and the image to the culture around the music. That’s what I’d want to learn from him: how to make every part of a project speak the same language. I think the chemistry would come from movement. He changed what a performer could be on stage, and dance has been part of me since I was a kid. I’d love to see what happens when his sense of rhythm meets Thai hip-hop.

If you were given total creative freedom to completely rewrite and re-imagine a masterpiece entirely outside the hip-hop genre—perhaps a piece of classical music, traditional Thai heritage sounds, or a legendary rock anthem—into an IRONBOY rap track, which piece would you claim and how would you translate its core emotion into your signature sound?

I’d choose Pleng Choi, a traditional Thai folk singing style that’s more than a hundred years old. Singers tell stories on the spot, trading improvised lines back and forth, almost like a freestyle battle. In a way, it’s the Thai ancestor of what I do today. I’d keep its core: the wit, the storytelling, and that playful back-and-forth energy. Then I’d bring it into my world with modern beats and flow, so a new generation can hear that rap has roots in Thailand too.

Elisa Cutullè

FOTO: (C): IRONBOY