With ‘Sweetface Killah,’ Infinite Coles Steps Out of Father Ghostface’s Shadow & Into a Kaleidoscope of Queer Light: ‘I Was the Underdog, and I Was Sick of It’ 

Wu-Tang may be for the children, but Infinite Coles is for the gworls. 

Hailing from Staten Island, Infinite Coles represents the convergence between two of New York City’s most hallowed and dynamic cultural scenes: ballroom and hip-hop. The sounds of both worlds are inescapable across Sweetface Killah, Coles’ thrilling debut album, which recounts the enrapturing story of one of the most sidelined children of hip-hop royalty. 

A vocalist and rapper, Coles is the estranged son of Wu-Tang Clan legend Ghostface Killah. His uncle also happens to be RZA — who he says has “always been a big supporter” — which means the blood of indisputable hip-hop icons courses through his veins. Growing up in a house exclusively soundtracked by hardcore hip-hop and classic R&B and soul, Coles gravitated towards women like Brandy, Whitney Houston and Toni Braxton.  

“I didn’t resonate with the men,” he recalls. “And there was a lot of “[F-slur]” talk in Wu-Tang, so I felt uncomfortable. I knew who I was from the beginning of time, and my family threw it out there early in my life that being gay was bad.” 

As Coles grew into himself and his sexuality, he connected with Mela Murder, a former Major Lazer back-up dancer, who got him off Staten Island and introduced him to the euphoric worlds of ballroom and house music. Coles and his father have been estranged for well over a decade now, but, in that distance, the rising star followed the music. Aly-Us’ classic 1992 house hit “Follow Me” served as Coles’ entry point into the genre, setting the scene for the splashes of ballroom-steeped house elements that appear across Sweetface Killah on songs like “Boots” and “DMs.” 

An untraditional “nepo baby,” given his fractured relationship with his father, Coles has been making industry inroads for a decade. “My brothers had all of that,” he says of the opportunity to work with his superstar father in the recording studio. “I didn’t get invited to sessions or anything like that at all.” (Ghostface Killah declined comment for this article.)

In 2015, Coles starred in Clayton Vomero’s Gang short film, and by 2018, he featured on three songs on Everything Is Recorded, the debut studio album from XL Recordings co-founder Richard Russell. It was during the pandemic, however, that Coles zeroed in on the concept of Sweetface Killah, alongside close friend and executive producer Zach Witness. Together, the duo blended Coles’ idiosyncratic swagger, musical fearlessness and sharp storytelling skills into a resoundingly confident debut album. 

Ahead of the London launch performance for Sweetface Killah (Dec. 5), Infinite Coles stepped out of the steam room to chat with Billboard about coming into his artistry, hopping in the booth with Ferg and challenging antiquated hip-hop norms.

How has ballroom influenced your approach to music, particularly the hip hop space? 

I now understand that I have my community, who will understand my story. Before, I would try to write for everybody, like, “Oh, I want straight men to listen to my music.” But I’ve realized not everybody’s gonna like me — and that’s okay. I know where I’ll be liked for sure, and that’s my community. 

From a musical standpoint, what do you bring from the ballroom world into your own music? 

There’s the “hitika, hitika, hitika” sound that I like to add, as well as the dip beats. You’ll hear those in “DMs,” “Sweetface Killah,” “Thankful” and “Boots.” I also pull from commentary from people like Kevin Jz Prodigy and Snookie Lanore. There’s also other girls coming out and giving vocals while they’re commentating. I feel like everyone is taking our lingo already, so they might as well listen to the music, too. I’m so inspired by the strength of my people and my community. It’s not easy at all, especially dealing with family that don’t want you or disown you. 

DJs are also my inspiration now. I love going to a function and the DJ is mixing Aretha Franklin’s vocals with some bad Afro-house beat. I’m like, “Oh s—t, I could pull that off — and no one’s gonna know because you only did it here!” [Laughs.] 

When did you first start to feel a project coming together? When did you know that Sweetface Killah was finished? 

I knew it was coming together when I finally felt my writing getting better. I lived in a shelter for a year during COVID. I released an EP around that time [2021’s Destiny], but it was just scraps I put together to get some quick coin. After that, I finally got my own place, and it felt so different. I could say whatever I wanted to say, I could scream without my mom or sister telling me to shut the f—k up, and I could blast my music and really get into myself. And that’s when “Boots” came. 

My friend Zach Witness was staying with me for a few weeks, and while he was making the beat for “Boots,” I was like, “I want to be animated on some Nicki [Minaj] s—t.” I demoed it for him, and he was like, “Keep going, that’s the vibe!” Being in my own house in my own space and creating my own energy allowed me to tap into different characters. Now, I’m rapping, which I always wanted to do but never even gave it a try. 

I knew the project was finished when I started comparing my friends’ reactions to my first EP versus the new music. They love my first EP, and they’re not going to tell me nothing bad, but I can feel when they’re like, “Oh, you ate that.” They be begging me to play new music at parties! [Laughs.] 

Are you nervous about sharing this project with the world? 

The nerves come from an expectation. I’m the only gay one out of my family. My brothers had a chance to be in the studio with my dad and be on an album. I was always the one who was not invited.  

And not to toot my own horn, but I’m the best one out of all of us. My brothers love me, but I feel like they never stepped up like, “We should bring Inf around.” They didn’t have to, but it would have been nice. They all knew that I could sing, but “Sweetface Killah” came out as a rap song, and they were gagged. I’ve surpassed a couple of levels when it comes to them, and it’s no shade at all. I was the underdog, and I was sick of it.  

I’m also nervous because of my dad still — especially because the blogs love to make “Sweetface Killah” seem like a diss record, or that I’m being disrespectful. 

Walk me through writing and recording “Dad & I.” 

It took me two or three years to finish writing “Dad and I.” I wrote the first half when Zach was at my house, and the other half got finished a year later because I needed to complete this project. Sometimes I have to step away from things to really get out what I’m trying to say. 

In 2023, I aired my father out — I don’t like saying it that way because that wasn’t my intention, but I guess that’s what the hell I did. I had to tell my truth because I was going through something very deep and crazy with my family, and I felt like he was the only one who could save us. He has the resources and the money to help not even me, but my sister and her daughter. It gave he really don’t care about anything, not even the women in his family. It’s not just about me being gay, he doesn’t know how to be a father. I did all of that, and nothing happened, so I wrote a song about it. 

I’m not a disrespectful person, unless I feel disrespected. But I will always speak my truth and my mind. “Dad & I” is really one of my best-written songs and some of the best storytelling I’ve ever done. Luther Vandross’ “Dance with My Father” was a big inspiration. I actually showed my Uncle RZA from Wu-Tang that song a while ago, and he had me replay it three times. And that was before the second verse was done.

Did you get a chance to play the full project for him at all? 

I did send him the full project, but in person, I played a couple of songs. I didn’t show him “Sweetface Killah” or “DMs” because I thought he’d be like, “Oh, you’re too feminine.” I still have my insecurities. But apparently, he loves “Boots” and plays it all the time in the house, so I’m like, “I should’ve just shown you ‘DMs’ then!” [Laughs.] I love my Uncle RZA so much, he’s f—king amazing. My first studio session was with him. 

What was that like? 

We was living in [New] Jersey at the Wu-Tang House, which has been there since 1994. He still has that house. It was just the family house at the time; we had [spent the holidays] there. Uncle RZA used to call us downstairs to watch him make beats or give him vocals. At the time, he was working on [2000’s] Afro Samurai Resurrection soundtrack, and he wanted me on it. I had to do a song with him called “Brother’s Keeper”; I was around 12-13. He also wrote a song called “Student of Love” for me, but it didn’t go anywhere.  

“Brother’s Keeper” did end up being on the soundtrack, and I appreciated him so much after that. I was still very insecure, and in the closet, so after I sung my bit, I probably went upstairs with cousins like, “Alright girl, I’m glad I left because I was nervous!” 

Who do you consider your musical peers? 

I don’t feel like anyone is going to be able to do what I’m doing or give what I’m about to give and going to give in the future. I don’t really listen to a lot of people because I feel like everyone talks about the same thing. No one makes me feel anything. 

I love Doechii; [she and I] would be a great collaboration. I love Chika. I love Tierra Whack and Destin Conrad. Everybody’s feening to be fab and a bad b—h, and they’re forgetting to tap into real life and real emotions and tell a story. I think that’s what’s missing from music in my community. 

Since you started rolling out the project, has your father reached out at all? 

No. And he doesn’t have to. I didn’t do any of this for him to reach out. I am ready for my time to shine. I am ready for my light to beam. I’m ready for the world to see me for my authentic self. I’m not trying to hide who I am. Dumbing myself down and dimming my light for everybody else to live is done; it’s done no good for me at all besides making me depressed and left behind. 

He doesn’t have to hit me up. It would be nice if he did, and in that case, I would totally be receptive and would love to have a conversation. I wish he would realize that if he did hit me up, it would change a lot. Three straight boys came up to me in the city the other day, and they recognized me and said, “If you and your dad did a conversation together, it’ll change the way hip-hop is for real; he is part of your key to help you open that door for everybody to have a moment to shine.” It don’t matter if you’re red, blue, white, black, gay, straight, trans — it’s hip-hop. Let’s accept everybody because that’s the only way it’s gonna change. Things need to elevate. 

But I’m just excited to celebrate. I know that I can have that No. 1 song on Billboard. I know that I can win that Grammy at some point. And I’m so excited for my next album, it’s going to be even better. I was just in the studio with [A$AP] Ferg.  

Wait what? 

I’m still trying to get this verse together! I told him I had to take the beat home because I’m nervous and new to this. I went home, had my lil blunt, and felt like Eminem and Busta Rhymes. Ferg told me he wanted that “Sweetface Killah” energy, so I had to tap into a certain space, which meant leaving his studio for a bit. I was really with Ferg — and it’s possible with me being this feminine entity! He didn’t give a f—k about nothing, he just wanted to work with me because he loved my visuals and my sound and what I’m doing. 

I say thank you to God every single day. It’s crazy when you want something, and you dream about it, and then you really feel and see it happening. And I just knew it was going to happen with this album.