LOCK Magazine had the pleasure of catching up with UK-based singer-songwriter Heidi Boualili to discuss the deeply personal stories behind her latest project, the emotional conversations it holds between past and present selves, and the experiences that shaped her journey from writing songs in her bedroom to sharing them on stages across the UK.
Your album What I Didn’t Know Then feels like a conversation between past and present you. If you could sit down with your younger self, what would you say to her now?
WAGWAN Heid,
I know you probably wouldn’t wanna hear any of this but I’m sorry.
I’m sorry you had to hear things that no kid should hear. I’m sorry you had to work twice as hard to get your voice heard. For people to take you seriously. I hate that there were moments you felt like you had nowhere to turn. I know you won’t wanna hear it because the reality is, you just wanna keep moving 10000 miles an hour, and if you sit still to think about those things, you’re worried what it might do to you. That’s okay though. Because I know when you get home and you sit at the piano it’ll all come out then.
Keep writing. Never stop. Write fast, write messy and be honest. Keep telling your silly stories. Keep busking, keep playing in empty bars. Keep doing those park resort talent shows. Say yes to every opportunity. There may be times that you feel like giving up. You might feel lost, but don’t search for your spark in other people and other things, because the truth is, it’s inside you and has been all along.
You’re gonna do things that you have dreamed of. Do you know your song has been played on Radio 1?! You have played shows up and down the UK. You’ve done your first tour. Oh and in the summer, you’re playing the same festival as Tinnie Tempah and Professor Green. I still remember word for word the rap you wrote to Read All About It when you were 9/10.
Your mum is your best friend so maybe help her out a bit more with the washing up. Don’t argue with your little sister because she’ll be your best friend one day. Don’t worry about your dad finding out you have a girlfriend. Don’t worry about his religion. He doesn’t hate you, in fact he comes to pride every year to watch you perform.
I must admit I’m a little jealous of how little you care about what people think because truthfully, as we get older, that does get a bit harder and that’s okay. Maybe I can learn a little from myself. You sorted out your little anger issues for the most part. You actually got diagnosed with ADHD, but I know you’d be fuming at that because for little you thought that being diagnosed meant there was something wrong with you. There isn’t. You’re fine just the way you are.
I know you’re so determined. I know you wanna work, but don’t forget to have fun and make memories. Go out with your friends. Fall in love. Get your heartbroken. Cry. Laugh. Go clubbing. Travel. Speak to everyone. You’ll finally learn to play the guitar and you’re gonna finally work on your health. You’ll lose 14 stone after years of struggling to shift any weight but please dont think that makes you invincible and don’t go buy at skateboard cus you fall and cut your hand 🥲. I know you’ll do it anyway because you never listen if you’ve already made up your mind.
But hey, try to listen, breathe, and I would say keep your mouth shut, but we both know that won’t happen. Yeah you are kinda riddled in anxiety and it does get better, but some things have to get worse before they start to get better. Never let that stop you from doing what you love, because doing what you love makes the bad days a little easier. Don’t let your thoughts consume you. It’s okay. You’re not alone. You might feel like you’re misunderstood but I understand and that’s enough. Love you Little McCoy (My 12 year old rap name 🤪) but I’m glad you finally embraced your real name. Heidi Boualili. Having an Arabic surname isn’t too difficult. It’s cool and naming yourself after your local ‘McCoys’ Fish n Chip Shop wasn’t your strongest idea. Never stop being you.
I wish I could give you a hug and tell you everything will be okay. I hope you’re really proud of what you’ve done and I’m looking forward to seeing what more you can do.
You’re 24 now and things are just starting to move for you. Though this feels like such a long time in the making because it is. You’re just about to release your first album, so in many ways, this is just the beginning. I’m proud of you. For never letting any of those arseholes stop you, because from where I’m sitting, I have no idea how you got through some of that. I know you’re a cryer even if you pretend not to be. If I remember correctly, you used to cry probably 3x on average a day. Even if it was over nothing. So, if you get sad and you don’t feel like writing a song, just watch Gemma Collins funny moments compilations. Works every time.
“City You Took From Me” carries a strong sense of loss and identity. What does that “city” represent to you emotionally?
For me, London is a lot more than just a place. It represents a version of myself that I fought really hard to become. Growing up, I struggled to come out, even though deep down I knew who I was. I didn’t really see people like me around, so it took me a lot of time to feel comfortable in that identity.
Around the time of getting my first girlfriend I ended up dropping out of sixth form to go follow my dreams and study music. It was when I was in London that everything shifted. There were so many gay people, they didn’t even care that they were holding hands walking in class. They didn’t hide. I felt like I didn’t have to worry that my dad or someone who I didn’t want to know might see me. I was surrounded by people who were openly themselves, and it gave me the space to do the same. So London became tied to both my freedom and that relationship: our first date, our memories, all of it lived there.
After the breakup, going back to London felt completely different. It wasn’t just about missing a person, it was about trying to reconnect with a version of myself in a place that now held so many reminders of them. The “city” became symbolic of that loss not just of love, but identity, comfort, and a sense of belonging.
So the song is really about re-discovery. Learning who you are on your own. Rebuilding and growth. Those quiet, difficult moments, where you have to reclaim spaces, memories, and even parts of you that feel like they were taken by someone else. For me, that just happened to be London.
You’ve spoken about songwriting saving your life. Do you remember the first time you realised music was more than just an outlet for you?
I think I always knew music was my outlet. I wrote my first song when I was six, called ‘The brightest shining star’ after my grandad passed. From then on, every big emotion became a song.
But the moment it really hit me was after I had surgery. I woke up to an email saying I’d been selected as a Radio 1 ‘Next Wave’ Featured artist and they wanted to interview me. I’d gone from writing songs in my bedroom to suddenly having people actually listen. I had literally just come round from the surgery and this was all happening. It felt like I was in a movie. But it was all real.
That’s when it shifted. It stopped being just something I did for myself and became something bigger. Still personal, still my way of processing things but now other people were finding themselves in it too.
It’s like handing over your diary. It’s terrifying, but it’s also the most rewarding thing. Because those moments where someone says “I feel that too”, they make you realise you’re not alone. And neither are they. That’s why I have decided to let my music exist outside of my bedroom. I have spent my whole life feeling like an outcast. Not only for my looks and my bold personality, but because of my thoughts and feelings. I write when I’m sad, when I’m feeling crazy, when I’m falling in love or out of it. One of the worst things you can feel is to feel alone. Those moments when people connect with what I’m saying give writing a whole new meaning. For me, songwriting started as survival, everything else came after.
Your journey includes a lot of resilience, especially during your school years. How do those experiences shape the way you write and perform today?
Everything I went through growing up shaped how I write and perform now. When people tried to tear me down, I just pushed harder. I refused to let it stop me, and I’ve carried that resilience with me.
As a 24 year old now, I still struggle with so many things but one thing I have carried with me is that same resilience. No matter how anxious, how worried, no matter what is going on in my life. I will keep going. I’ll always write because it quite literally keeps me going, and those things I experienced taught me that honesty always comes out on top. I don’t want to be told what to say or how to be, I just want to tell my story as it is. I’ve always said I’m a bit like marmite. You either like me or you don’t, and if you don’t I’m totally cool with that cus i dont like marmite either ahaha. You get what I mean.
Performing is where everything clicks. No matter what’s going on in my life, the second I step on stage, I feel like myself again. All the doubt disappears. There were moments in my teenage years where I felt low, like I had lost my spark. I was scared I’d never find it again. I wasn’t sure of myself anymore. That was the worst part because I was always so sure of myself.
Performing is like my outlet. As soon as I step on a stage. Everything makes sense. I feel seen.
It’s funny, being bullied almost felt like being on stage in a weird way. Everyone was watching, just not for the right reasons. But I think that’s where the performer in me came from. I learned to own that space. I’d post my videos because I know people will watch. Yes they’re watching to take the mick but they’re still watching. When people actually started to listen, when people actually decided to have a conversation with me. Most people decided that they actually liked me and did want to be my friend. I shouldn’t have felt like I needed to be given a chance in order for people to like me.
I think after years of feeling misunderstood, being on a real stage, this time singing my songs, I don’t feel like I have to prove anything, people were already listening. Now with every show I play, I perform with my whole heart and passion, whether there are 3 people in the room, or 3000. I’m treating it like it’s Wembley.
You grew up on artists like Biggie, Lauryn Hill, and Stevie Wonder. How do those influences still show up in your sound now?
Eminem was literally my idol. I have watched 8 Mile more times than I can count. I grew up on a lot of hip-hop, and that’s where I learned the importance of storytelling. I connected to songs that lyrically told stories because they made me feel seen. Eminem made me realise I could be honest in my music, that real stories matter, and people connect to that. It made me want to tell my story. It showed me that I didn’t need money and fancy things. I didn’t need to look a certain type of way, I just needed a notepad and my truth.
Biggie gave me a sense of energy. I remember my mum blasting his music in the car and just vibing to it, and I’ve always wanted my songs to have that feeling too, something you can connect to emotionally but also absolutely jam to. I cared about the lyrics massively, and feeling seen, but being able to just vibe out to a song gives you a different feeling. Especially if you’re in a bad mood. Having a song that just makes everything feel better is unmatched.
Lauryn Hill was a huge one for me because she was a girl and she did both – she sang and she rapped. That gave me permission to do the same. I didn’t feel like I had to choose. I was a terrible singer and I didn’t think I’d be able to sing but I wanted to. I tried. Took me a hot minute to get where I am today. I loved singing and rapping so much I literally sang every day. I’d come straight home from school and straight into my bedroom and stick on youtube and sing until my parents told me to stop because it was too late.
Even now, my music is built on that foundation of strong lyrics, honest storytelling, and rhythm that comes from those early influences. I’m glad I eventually dropped the American accent when I was rapping. I literally didn’t even know of any British rappers or listen to many so in my head – the American accent just came naturally. But as a girl from Essex riding on authenticity, accidentally stealing the accent wasn’t the one.
This debut album feels very honest and exposed. Was there a moment during the process where you thought, “this might be too personal to share”?
Yes. But then it was too late ahah….
If I sat and thought about how other people might listen to this song and what they might think. I think I’d be TERRIFIED to write anything ever again.
With this album, I actually didn’t think about how personal these songs are until I was staring at the pre-save on spotify with people already pre-saving and pre-ordering. One of the songs on this project was written about falling in love. My story of falling in love for the first time, after my first heartbreak. It was scary, confusing and amazing at the same time. Very few of my friends are musicians. So it’s not until I kind of speak to them that I’m reminded that sharing all these thoughts and feelings with everyone is actually really insane and kind of personal, especially when I’m not just talking about me in the songs.
As silly as it sounds, those around me know that I don’t write these songs for any other reason than to genuinely understand my own thoughts. Sharing them is another thing. Songs are like photos of memories. Some photos will be beautiful memories you’ll cherish forever and then other times you might have a snap shot of a moment of your life you’d rather forget but is now there forever. For me, I don’t tend to look at it in a negative way because good or bad, those moments shaped me. They happened regardless. But yeah, deep down, part of me is screaming because it’s like giving you my diary and saying ‘here ya go have a read’ but truthfully the songs that you’re worried about putting out are probably the songs you should put out. They’re the ones that mean the most, hold the most value and truth.
We worry because we care. We get nervous about the things that mean the most to us. So yeah i absolutely have thought these songs may be too personal to share but that’s exciting. Scary yet exciting and just because something is scary it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.