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By Devin Robertson
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Before Infinity Song had a name, a catalog, or an audience, the Boyd siblings shared a language. Music coursed through their Detroit home, where their father directed choirs and faith provided another connection, so singing together felt less like a career decision and more like an extension of family life.
“We’ve been singing together since we were really, really young,” Infinity Song member Abraham Boyd told Newsweek. “Music is our family. It’s a language in our family. Faith and music [are] the two common denominators.”
Their father’s choirs gave the siblings an early education in blend and discipline, while the home itself turned music into “something we find joy and safety in.”
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The foundation was exacting and expansive. Abraham described “the trifecta: classical, jazz and gospel,” with soul following close behind; because those traditions shaped the siblings’ instincts early, their layered harmonies carry both technical precision and the ease of people who have spent a lifetime listening to one another.
Israel Boyd compared the connection to the memories any siblings accumulate—“a childhood home” or “a route they took to school every day”—although music became one of Infinity Song’s deepest points of reference.
“That’s a part of how we navigate our lives together,” he said.
Understanding Over Agreement
Shared history does not erase individual taste, and the band’s creative process depends on making room for conversation without allowing it to halt the work. Abraham said their father, who also manages the group, helped them recognize a crucial distinction: “Agreement is not the goal. Understanding is the goal.”
“Everybody has their own perspective, worldview and their own way they would like to do things,” Abraham said, adding that each sibling must operate with the assumption the others know what they are doing. Since Momo, Angel, Israel and Abraham each encounter life differently, the group seeks a workable understanding, even when consensus remains out of reach.
Deadlines sometimes break the tie, yet craft remains the collective standard. “Sometimes it comes down to, like, the timeline for a deliverable,” Angel Boyd said, while external pressure—a team decision, a stage call, the simple need to move—can force a song across the finish line.
When time permits, however, the siblings keep refining because, as Angel put it, “We all want to make good music, the best music we possibly can.”
Conviction also carries weight, and each member can defend an idea while remaining open to improvement. Sometimes debate stretches on; sometimes everyone hears the same finished song at once.
“There are moments where it’s just unanimously like, ‘That’s good. It doesn’t need to change,’” Angel said.
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A Self-Titled Statement
Following a season of discovery, Infinity Song chose its own name for its fourth album, released June 12, because the title could hold both certainty and continued evolution. The record arrived after the singles “One Foot Out” and “Hurricane,” extending the group’s blend of choral harmonies, soft-rock warmth and rhythmic polish.
“I don’t think you’ve ever arrived,” Israel said. “We have more evolution to do. We have more growing to do.”
Even so, the title announces confidence: “It’s a statement. It’s not a question.”
For a band still widening its sound, the words Infinity Song function as a declaration of presence: “We’re not asking if we belong. We’re not asking if there’s space for us.”
No single track carries the entire thesis, Israel said, because confidence lives as much in the process as in the finished recording. “It’s much deeper than just the product, the end product,” he said. “It’s the whole process and the whole season.”
The group also approached the album with mainstream ambition, and Abraham said the siblings learned how to adapt their process to recognizable pop hallmarks while preserving their identity.
“In the next few months to 12 months, I expect some hits because we learned how to make hits through this album,” he said.
Their previous project, Metamorphosis, found its audience gradually before carrying them around the world, so he expects another “slow burn,” a phrase he delivered with an audible appreciation for the pun.
Angel described the sonic shift in direct terms: “We definitely just wanted to push our sound forward,” while making the songs easier for an average listener to absorb. The goal touched every layer—“the songwriting, the vocal performance, the listenability, the character, the emotion”—and, as those elements tightened, the band’s soft-rock vocabulary opened toward a broader audience.
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The Show as an Escape
For all the care invested in the studio, Abraham said the stage reveals the group most fully.
“Infinity Song is a live show band,” he said. “We love performing for our fans. We love performing for people who are not fans because, by the end of our time together, we will have done a lot of work to move you over to the fan column.”
The pitch is playful, though the purpose runs deeper. Since the siblings face the same pressures as anyone in the crowd, they want the concert to suspend those pressures for everyone at once. “Escapism is a big part of our show and our music,” Abraham said. “The world is crazy, [so] when you come to an Infinity Song [show], hopefully you leave all that craziness outside the doors.”
Such escape requires participation, and the band treats performance as “a communal experience between artist and audience,” where listeners and musicians can process life together. The record may document a season, yet the show gives the songs a living context, which shifts nightly as a new room joins the family conversation.
From the Street to the World
Long before international tours, Infinity Song performed in public in Detroit and New York, where indifference could be immediate, and attention had to be earned. Israel compared the transfer from street performance to a concert stage with moving from rollerblades to ice skates: “They’re different, but once you get one or the other, there’s enough similar mechanics [so] you can kind of get the gist of it.”
The most durable lessons were psychological. “Perseverance and attitude and grit and belief—self-belief,” Israel said. “Those are the biggest transfers, probably over anything skill- or talent-related.”
Abraham agreed, explaining public performance gave the family confidence, while their father’s training kept routine from replacing excellence.
“Mindset matters most when doing anything,” Abraham said.
Whether someone is waiting tables, rehearsing, singing for three people or facing thousands, he argued, the internal standard precedes public recognition. “Infinity Song is a story of a family who believed in themselves before it was manifested in the public sphere," he said.
That belief remains deliberately ahead of the evidence. “Today, we’re not superstars,” Abraham said. “We believe we’re superstars, and so it will be [so].”
Stardom, in his telling, begins as “a state of being,” then becomes visible through discipline, repetition and a refusal to shrink.
Showing Up Whole
Confidence also shapes how Infinity Song approaches expectations surrounding Black artists and rock music. Abraham resisted letting stereotypes set the terms of the conversation.
“If people think we’re too Black, OK,” he said, while stressing the group has no interest in perpetuating negativity and no fear of showing its full range.
“We’re just a family of siblings from the west side of Detroit who moved to New York to follow their God-given potential,” Abraham said.
Their confidence accommodates contradiction and curiosity: “We also don’t have a problem being nerds, or book smart, or business smart, or techie. It’s a spectrum, and we show up unapologetically in every facet.”
Angel’s interests in fashion, styling and design feed the band’s visual conversations, while every sibling brings a separate field of attention into the room. “There’s no limit on our individuality and our own interests [or what] we can bring to the stuff we create,” she said.
Their distinct perspectives do not fracture Infinity Song’s identity; when each voice enters freely, and the others listen closely, the differences give the family sound more dimension.
As the band continues their forward-thinking motion, Infinity Song strives to leave an imprint on the listeners without compromising their collective vision.
“We want them to get a good experience from what we offer to the world,” Israel said, because an album can meet people across many moments and carry different meanings from song to song.
“We want the music to speak to you, and we want it to be something you can lean on throughout your day, throughout your life—music that’s there for you.”
Listen to Infinity Song here.
Contact Newsweek editors on this story: Mark Muir and Sam Wilson.
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