Exploring the Radical Themes of Iniko’s ‘Armor_deconstructed’: A Viral Gender-Freedom Anthem.

On January 15th, a visually stunning YouTube short by self-described genderless musical artist Iniko (they/them), titled “Armor_deconstructed _audio,” was released to the public.

In just eight days, as of January 23rd, the video had amassed over 1.3 million views and 110K likes on YouTube alone. What’s more impressive is that this feat was accomplished despite the video being only 47 seconds long, focusing solely on Iniko, featuring just one prop — a misshapen and fragile piece of plastic playing the part of the titular “armor.

The lyrics, choreography, body language, and breathwork showcased in this short masterpiece have ignited a passionate response from countless Gender-divergent, Non-binary, and Agender individuals. How can such a brief music video elicit such fervor and make such a significant impact?

Let’s review the lyrics as a starting point. I’ve assigned syllable counts to each line. This will become important further into this analysis.

“I’ve been a little bit cold (7)

Been a little too bold (6)

They were telling me to slow down, (8)

slow down (2)

I’ve been in really deep holes (7)

Spinning out of control (6)

Now I gotta go to war now (8)

war now (2)

My mind is a weapon (6)

And my body is a battlefield (9)

And I know my soul’s intention (8)

To know what is (4)

To know what’s real (4)

Oh (1)

I don’t need armor (5)

I’m more than brave (4)

Gotta go harder (4)

I will not be a slave ah (7)

Head above water (5)

So many waves (4)

I am not son nor daughter (7)

No label, no name (5)

Inability to Catch one’s breath

The video begins with a frustrated exhale as if the artist conveys the exhausting challenge of navigating gendered expectations. In the first half of a 47-second video, Iniko sings 72 syllables, while the latter half, which is almost the same length, contains only 36 syllables. This drastic shift in pacing and breathing requirements allows Iniko’s voice to shine through with greater expression.

To experience the challenge for yourself, try singing along with the lyrics and notice how difficult it is to catch your breath. Alternatively, try tapping your heart once for every syllable in Iniko’s singing. After two or three replays, you’ll find it painful to keep up with the first half of the video, while the second half is less demanding.

Difficulty discerning internal/external voice

The latter section of the video features a single voice, a stark contrast to the first half, which includes background echoes and whispers. The listener hears background whispers increase in intensity as Iniko sings, “And I know my soul’s intention/ To know what is/To know what’s real,” almost as if the whispers are attempting to counter Iniko’s epiphany until they are drowned out by the video’s climax, an exuberant “OH.”

In the aftermath, the background echoes and whispers disappear, replaced by empowering background music. The fact that the background echoes and whispers originated from Iniko’s voice but referenced statements others made about them illustrates how external gender expectations can become internalized and even regulate our self-expression. Viewed in this way, it’s clear that the song's subtext implies that focusing on their intention and uncovering what is truly authentic helped the artist overcome their inner conflicts.

Body as Battle Between the Masculine and Feminine

The final third of the video shows Iniko’s arms stretched outwards as they sing, “I am not son nor daughter,” while glancing at the socially sanctioned, static representations of gender, which the video visualizes as the right arm to indicate traditional masculinity and the left arm denoting traditional femininity. Astute observers may have also noted that Iniko has a moon tattoo on the left and a sun on the right portion of their body between their ribs and shoulders. They also adorn an earring on their left ear while their right ear is bare.

These visual cues reinforce that, in this context, the left represents femininity, and the right embodies masculinity. Earlier in the video, Iniko glances at their left and right arm; this time, they are held close as though they are entangled in invisible chains. I believe Iniko is stating very clearly that it does not matter how “expansive” one defines femininity or masculinity, whether the arms are close together (restrictive interpretations) or stretched out wide to denote seemingly progressive views of gender; the very notion of limiting oneself to one of the two options is restrictive and out of alignment with their identity and intention.

Faced with these two paths, with pressure to commit to one static path, they embark on their path forward, which we see as they gaze ahead, which brings me to my next point: how Iniko uses body language, including eye contact.

Armor, Attachment, and Authenticity

Throughout the video, we witness Iniko’s evolved understanding of how the armor functions. Their armor is a physical representation of self-limiting beliefs, and what self-limiting beliefs can do to our relationship with ourself, our environments, and our ability to be known on our own terms. Iniko clings to the armor, securely placed in front of their heart.

The heart has long been a symbol of the human spirit and a focal point in many cultures. In Ancient Egypt, the heart was understood as the center of our intentions, responsible for our connections, sense of community and acceptance, and ability to understand and relate to others. It was even thought that the heart would be weighed down by immorality. We see this belief carry on in the phrases “get something off your chest” and “it is with a heavy heart.” Iniko visually references this concept as they metaphorically make their intentions vulnerable when they place the armor on the ground while singing, “I know my intentions.”

They must crouch down and take up less space, with their eyes cast down or looking at the shield. When Iniko states that they intend to understand what is real, they place the armor down, realizing that it has hindered their ability to know themselves and their reality. Once the armor is cast aside, Iniko looks around their environment and at their own body with new eyes, clearly seeing the options before them for the first time. In this way, it’s clear that the armor prevented both attachment and genuine authenticity from being expressed.

Armor as Trash

I love how Iniko represents the armor they have been given access to. It almost looks as though this armor is a piece of trash that they had to pick up haphazardly, and this is intelligent in the sense that it demonstrates how little agency most of us have when it comes to the labels to express our gender.

Gender, like all social constructs, phenomena, and ways of understanding, is socially constructed by our predecessors, and none of us had a choice of where, when, or to whom we were born. Some of us have unearned disadvantages and have had to make do with ill-fitting definitions or identities that have limitations.

As I hope I’ve articulated, Iniko’s “Armor_deconstructed_audio” is an absolute powerhouse. There were even hidden meanings that I chose to omit for the sake of length. There will be many people who listen to this song and weep and many who watch this short clip, and their hearts will resonate, because they will see a mirror of their gendered experiences. Perhaps, even more importantly, the artist offers a window into their own experience with gender identity, which can be viewed as a roadmap for some in navigating their gendered challenges.

The artist offers the listener and viewer words of affirmation and optimism with realism and gravity in the lyrics: head above water, so many waves, I am not, son, nor daughter, no labels, no name.