Danny Singh: Becoming Man of the Year

Fashion: Chris Sandford

Photography: Harvey Jackson

Photography Assistance: Samuel Chance

Grooming: Annette Bragas

The Barclays Center was burning with strobe lights during The Brat tour when Danny Sing saw his future. Charlie XCX stood alone, no DJ, no dancers, no net, only her, commanding the stage with nothing but presence. For Singh, it wasn't just a concert; it was a revelation, a blueprint for what music could be when stripped of excess and driven only by connection.

Denim Jacket & Jeans: Purple Brand

"It was just her wilding the whole time, and not once was I bored," Singh remembers. That moment lit a fuse: performance, at its core, isn't about spectacle or ego, it's about the people.

Man of the Year, Singh's latest and boldest project, carries that same voltage. It's a departure from his Punk&B roots, a leap toward something more mainstream, not to conform but to challenge himself and spin alt-synthy pop into his own language.

For Singh, this record isn't just an album. It's a reminder of what music becomes when an artist dares to step out, chase energy, and claim his place as Man of the Year.

Before the lights of Barclays and the roar of the crowd, Danny Singh's inspiration was his neighborhood, Ozone Park, the West Indian community alive with rhythm, color, and a pulse that shaped the way he heard everything around him. Music filled every corner of his world, from the local streets to the inner workings of his home, where piano, bass, and saxophone became second nature before he was 10. By 13, he was producing his own tracks, using sound as a language to communicate with his brothers and navigate a world that demanded creativity, focus, and imagination.

Fur Coat: Larucci

Shirt & Shorts: A. Potts

Sneakers: Taft

The pulse of Ozone Park seeped into him from every corner. Reggae thumped from parked cars, bachata swirled through the air, and the streets carried their own rhythm, far removed from the pop charts.

"We're not really listening to Katy Perry around here," Singh laughs, "but you'd hear a lot of Drake and Lil Wayne."

That rhythm flowed into a house rooted in church and music: his grandfather pastoring at Calvary Assembly of God, his mother leading vocals, and his father playing multiple instruments. The church became his first stage, a place to stumble and grow. "I would just be on stage playing the bass, getting my chops," Singh admits. "I was pretty ass at the time, but I'm happy they let me mess up back then. Now it's like second nature."

Even his sanctuaries held lessons. 102 Park, known as Precinct Park because of its proximity to the local police station, became his observation post and his laboratory. Hoops, JBL speakers, and kids cutting class became a collage of sounds and stories.

Shirt & Pants: Hive & Colony

Cape: Larucci

Sneakers: Gola

"There's always a kid playing mad shit, and I'm always paying attention," Singh tells Bleu. Every beat, every rhyme, and every riff is transformed into the DNA of his own sound.

By his teenage years, Singh had formed a band that would take him to AfroPunk's "Battle of the Bands," channeling the vibrant, eclectic sounds of his neighborhood into something bigger than himself. His journey had started in basements, church stages, and local parks, but it was these streets, alive with energy and community, that gave him the foundation to shape his identity and claim his spotlight.

That spotlight finally found him in the whirlwind of producing for New Lane, PNB Rock's label. For Singh, it was his first true "I made it" moment.​​ The instant when all the hours put in suddenly translated into something undeniable.

"I was always trying to be an artist, but what really started it was producing for New Lane," Singh recalls. "One day I'm in the studio, the next I'm driving 95 miles per hour with a guy I just met going to Yams Day, and then I'm on stage watching Tekashi 69, all in the span of two days. That's when it hit me. This shit was real. I knew it was real, but seeing it for yourself is different."

If Danny Singh's upbringing was a blueprint, Man of the Year is the architectural marvel built on it. The project opens like a film: "It's a Wolf of Wall Street and Back to the Future hybrid," Singh says, setting the tone. "You gotta get this money, you gotta step on necks, but I also got the Air Maxes on, and I'm riding in the current DeLorean of 2050."

Executive produced by his longtime collaborator LUNAS!, Man of the Year is a 14-track journey through soundscapes both familiar and uncharted. From synth-driven anthems to Caribbean-infused dance vibes, every song is carefully crafted to create a character, a persona, or a world, rather than just a collection of tracks.

Jewelry: Larucci

Jeans: Heike

Boots: The Confessional Showroom NYC

Singh's approach to creating Man of the Year was intentional, balancing personal storytelling with a pulse that keeps listeners moving. "I wanna make sure people are dancing," he says. "If the fans can't sing along or dance to it, then I can't drop."

The project's visual storytelling carries as much weight as the sound. Singh has always approached albums as worlds unto themselves. "With my last project, F3V3RDR3AM, it was on some angels and demons type of thing," Singh explains. With Man of the Year, he explores what it means to be a man in full, mature perspective.

"When you're a kid, you're only thinking about right now. You're not thinking about the whole picture," Singh tells Bleu. "You have to be a man and think about, is this gonna affect me in 20 years? Am I gonna be with this person for the rest of my life? That's the type of thing I'm trying to touch on this album."

Singh's collaborators help bring this world to life in unexpected ways. RRoxket, discovered by Singh through TikTok (yes, even from a dog meme), flexes his Atlanta rap prowess over the waltzing 3/4 time of "XXXSTACY," a beat unlike anything he's attempted before. The result is thrillingly unpredictable, a collision of style and skill that embodies Singh's vision of pushing boundaries.

Jewelry: Larucci

Coat :Jevon Terance

Shirt: Heike

Jeans :Purple Brand

Sneakers: Taft

BABYKIRA, another key collaborator, introduces Moogs and analog synthesizers that Singh had never worked with before, allowing him to experiment with textures and tones in real time. "We made like three songs in the first session," Singh says. "The toughest one was 'Super Lightskin.' It was like, let's just go crazy and see what happens."

Danny Singh also stays closely connected to his audience while crafting these sounds. He regularly talks to fans on live streams, gauging reactions and feedback without turning it into inauthentic marketing.

"I just wanna know, are you having a good time? Was this cool? Or straight up, how do you feel about this?"

Singh's process is a world unto itself: white claw in one hand, Celsius in the other, six hours disappearing in freestyles and laughter, friends dropping in and out, and energy building like the swell before a storm. It's here, in the chaos of creation, that Man of the Year takes shape, a record alive with the electricity of risk, curiosity, and unabashed joy.

Jewelry: Larucci

Pants: Heike

"Whatever they thought the box was," Singh says, "the box just got bigger." Every beat, every lyric, and every synth line pushes that box further, challenging listeners to step past expectation and into possibility.

Even as Singh dreams beyond the studio, his vision remains rooted in home. In five to 10 years, he envisions tours spanning oceans and continents, but he also imagines reshaping Ozone Park through real estate development, utilizing his recently earned real estate license to create innovative spaces, music studios, and community hubs.

"I just wanna make the area's fire, make it lit … even put in some cool studios. We don't have that in this neighborhood," Singh tells Bleu. The same streets that gave him rhythm, lessons, and pulse now form the foundation for what comes next, proof that ambition and community can grow together and that home is both the starting line and the ultimate destination.

Onstage or in the studio, Singh carries that same restless ambition. He's not afraid to fail and not afraid to chase the ideas that scare him most because to him, risk is the only path forward. "If you feel fearful of something, maybe that's the direction you move in. Don't be scared. Just do it."

Shirt, Suite & Belt: Hive & Colony

Shoes: Taft

Coat: Jevon Terance

Danny Singh is not simply chasing a sound. He is shaping a life, a legacy, and a future that reaches from the stage to the streets that raised him. No box can contain that kind of ambition. The horizon expands with every step he takes. He carries it all: the music, the neighborhood, and the possibilities. In doing so, he does more than arrive. He leaves an imprint, a force strong enough to endure, proving without question that he is truly Man of the Year.