Hope’s self-released EP Burn the Boats is framed as a moment of full commitment and creative courage. Named after the old military metaphor for cutting off one’s escape route, Burn the Boats is literally a “mission statement” of confidence and honesty. Across six brief tracks (just under 18 minutes), the EP traces a journey of radical self-belief. The sparse title track opens with soft piano and strings, setting a bare, reflective mood for the moment of no return. Hope himself says the title phrase “means cutting off all routes of escape.” He’s determined to abandon any backup plans and “dive in head first,” making this EP his point of no return.
Sonically, Burn the Boats moves through shadows and light. The production is often minimal—for example, the piano-led opener lets Hope’s words breathe with cinematic restraint. By mid-EP, the tone shifts: “Tinker Bell” introduces glistening synths and light percussion, evoking a fleeting warmth even as the lyrics wrestle with love versus ambition. Two collaborations with Nigerian-British singer Ebubé add gospel inflections and tension. “We’ll Rise” leans on hopeful gospel chords of resilience, while the moody “Never Be” (already released as a single) layers atmospheric production under still, searching vocals. The record closes on “Char’s Interlude,” a raw, voicemail-like four-minute monologue. Unpolished and intense, it touches on politics and pain before resolving with Char’s own voice—a full-circle return home that hints this isn’t the end of the story.
Hope (born Hope Ikpoku Jnr) is an East London actor-turned-musician whose breakout role on Top Boy (and a recent turn in The Kitchen) introduced him as a storyteller on screen. In parallel, he’s quietly built a music career: his 2022 debut single “Stop the Rain” has over 2.8M streams, and he now boasts millions more across a handful of releases. Burn the Boats arrives after a brief hiatus as what the press calls “his most personal and focused project” yet.
So we’re gonna begin with the title. Burn the Boats is a bold title. The phrase means eliminating any way to turn back; the title track even urges listeners to fully commit to their purpose despite uncertainty. What does that “no turning back” mentality mean to you personally? Were you taking a big risk with this EP, and why is it so important to dive in with that all-or-nothing mindset?
I think it came from when I originally first started making music. I was really apprehensive and sort of overthinking going into music, kind of coming from an acting background. I was thinking that if I’m doing that, then everything has to be more perfect. I was just scrutinising everything I was doing to the point where I was procrastinating and not dropping anything. Because I was doing that, I was just dipping my toes into my music and not committing to it. And it just got to a stage where I realised doing that doesn’t serve me or serve the art at all. So I just needed to forget about any Plan Bs and just focus straight on the art. That’s where the project came from.
Okay, so how did you come up with the title?
I saw the quote somewhere—it’s an actual quote. I don’t remember who said it exactly. I think it’s some Spanish naval commander or something like that. He actually did burn the boats during a battle, either while attacking or defending—I can’t remember which way around. But the point is, they were in a fight, and it looked like they were going to lose. So to motivate his troops, he burned all of their boats so they couldn’t run anywhere. They had to focus on the fight. There was no Plan B or escaping. It’s a metaphor—instead of literally fighting, it’s about committing to whatever your ambition is.
So this project has been described as your most personal yet, exploring introspection and identity. Do the six tracks together tell a story of personal transformation for you? How would you describe the emotional or narrative arc of the EP from start to finish, and what message or feeling do you hope listeners walk away with?
I’d say it starts off more upbeat—songs like “What’s Next” and “Burn the Boats” are high-energy. I mean, the first track still tries to get the ethos of the project across. Then there’s “Think About It,” which ties into the project too, but not really in a deeply introspective way. As the project progresses, it becomes more and more vulnerable and introspective, which is what I tried to do with the track order. “Never Be” and “Char Interlude” are the most vulnerable and introspective. I wanted to show that to be ambitious and self-aware, you have to be introspective. You have to know yourself, know why you want to do what you’re doing, and serve the art form. You can’t do that without looking within. So it starts upbeat and gets deeper—and only when I become, not fully broken down, but fully explored, is the resolution reached with the last track.
The EP closes on “Char Interlude,” which is an unusual, open-ended finale. It’s raw, emotional, and purposely left unresolved. Who is Char, if you don’t mind sharing, and why did you end the project with an interlude instead of a typical conclusion? What’s the significance of that closing moment in the context of the whole project?
I wanted it to be a paradox. An interlude is usually in the middle of a project and signals a continuation. I wanted this to be the beginning—the point where I actually come to the conclusion that I need to burn my boats. This project is the interlude for the projects to come. That’s why I say at the end, “Mirror Man is coming soon.” That’s another project I’m working on. So this track is like the glue between the two.
As for Char, she’s essentially my sister, not by blood, but she was the first person I sent my music to when I started. We worked together on a short film ages ago. She’s also a director and has always been there. When I first went to the studio, I sent her my music. I told her I didn’t think I’d take it seriously, but she encouraged me to. She’s one of the main reasons I started making music seriously. All the hardships I’ve faced, she’s been there. That’s why she’s integral to Burn the Boats—she’s the one who told me I had to fully commit. So it felt right for the most introspective song to be with Charlene. She doesn’t drive my introspection, but she was the catalyst for that moment.
You’ve mentioned that when working on a project, you often create more songs than you need—for example, writing maybe ten songs for a six-song project. What was your writing and recording process like for Burn the Boats? How did you narrow it down, and what were you looking for when selecting the final tracks?
This project probably changed about five times. There were probably even more than ten—maybe eight other songs aside from the six that were made in that era. I like to over-create, then weed out the ones I feel less connected to. It’s better than trying to build up from just a few.
I was at a studio in Stratford every single day, literally until 6 a.m., for like three months straight. No real days off. The main producer was F1, who did four of the tracks, and Tanks, the recording engineer, also did background vocals on two tracks. We were just present—no set target. Just made as many songs as we could in that time, then chose the ones that made the most sense.
Burn the Boats was always going to be on there—it’s the title and core theme. “Char Interlude” too, just because of how special it is and how it fits thematically. The rest were my favourites from that time and made the most sense for the journey.
So I heard you were basically living in the studio while making this EP. What does a typical day in the studio look like for you? Can you share any moments where a song evolved unexpectedly or a breakthrough happened during one of those late-night sessions?
We’d get into the studio around 2 or 3 p.m. and stay until 6 a.m. The first five hours were just us messing around, listening to what songs we liked at the time, who had dropped recently, what resonated. If most of us vibed with something, we’d build around that sound or feeling.
We bought an air fryer for the studio so we could eat without always getting takeout. After eating, we’d start writing late into the night. Some days we made three or four songs. Other days, just one. We’d bring different people in—it wasn’t always about writing for my songs; sometimes it was for others.
The best ideas came when we weren’t too focused or restrained. If I’m thinking too much, then I’m doing something wrong. At first, we weren’t even trying to make a project. We were just in the studio every day because we could be.
Each song on Burn the Boats has its own vibe, and you brought on talented producers to help craft those sounds. For example, Jay Prince gave the title track a minimalist, cinematic feel, while F1 brought a softer, melodic touch to “Tinker Bell.” How did these collaborations come about, and how did producers like Jay Prince and F1 shape the sound of the EP?
With F1, it was mostly references. For “Tinker Bell,” for example, there’s a Future song called “Cinderella” that I liked. I was listening to it a lot, and I said I wanted to make something Disney-themed. Also, I used to call Tinks “Tinker Bell” because I thought that was her full name—it’s just her surname. So that’s how the title came up.
With “Burn the Boats,” that was more Jay Prince. I told him the theme and what I wanted. He knew it had to be cinematic, and I wanted a voiceover at the beginning. He just got it. I didn’t have to give much input—he understood the assignment.
With F1, I had more involvement because I was in the room. “Char Interlude” was mostly myself. I had the song already written, and we just had to find the right music to fit the feeling. But generally, it’s beat first, lyrics after.
You’re not only a musician but also an actor, known for roles in Top Boy and The Kitchen. Do you find that your acting background influences your music—like when writing lyrics or performing a track? Do you approach it like preparing for a role?
Definitely in the performance aspect. You’re performing—it’s you, but it’s also a show. It’s almost like a role. I think the only reason I don’t get nervous before going on stage is because I see it as playing a role. If I thought of it as myself going on, I probably would get nervous. But I see it as “Hope the artist” performing.
When I learn the songs, it’s like learning lines. When I prepare how I’m going to move, it’s like how I’d prepare for a scene. So the performance side definitely overlaps. I don’t think the acting influences my writing as much though.
You’ve got your Burn the Boats EP listening party coming up June 17 at Covent Garden. You’ll be performing the whole project live with a band. What made you want to present the music this way, and how do you think the live experience will affect how people receive the songs?
Again, going all in. Burning the boats. I wanted to do it properly. A live show with a full band shows I’m serious. I’ve only ever done one or two songs with a band before, but I always preferred it to PA versions.
This project has a story and a journey, and I felt it would benefit from the cinematic feel that live instruments bring—drums, bass, everything. It just adds something different. Even during rehearsals, I’ve noticed the difference. We’ll see how it goes tomorrow.
And you announced on social media that the listening party is free for anyone who wants to come. That’s really welcoming. Why was it important to make this accessible for your supporters?
Right now, I’m not focused on making money from fans. I just want people to hear the art. If I can do the listening party for free, I will. I just want as many people as possible to hear it. It means more to me at this stage than making money. It’s a fair trade—if you get in for free and listen to good music. No brainer.
Your second track is literally called “What’s Next,” so I have to ask—what’s next for you? Are you already thinking about the next musical project? Maybe a full album? And how do you plan to balance that with acting?
I’m working on two projects at the same time. One’s called Mirror Man, which I’ve been working on since before Burn the Boats. That’s more of a full mixtape, probably 10 songs. I’ve got about four or five songs confirmed for that.
The other one is a shorter, summer-themed project. If it comes together, I might drop that in August. Acting-wise, I’m not filming anything right now, so it’s music, music, music. When I do start filming again, I might not be in the studio for three to six months. So right now, it’s just about balancing. When I’m not filming, I’m all in on music.
Burn the Boats marks a clear turning point for Hope, one where he fully commits to music with no fallback. It’s a focused, personal project that sets the stage for what’s ahead. With more music already in progress and acting temporarily on pause, he’s using this moment to build momentum and define his path as an artist on his own terms.
