Review: Samthing Soweto’s “Touch is a Move (Good Morning)”

From his beginnings with the a capella outfit The Soil, and a dalliance with the off-kilter band The Fridge, Samthing Soweto has drawn from gumba fire, poetry, Alt-Jazz and Folk, to soundtrack the realities of our contemporary times. These aural strands have contributed to a catalogue that weaves sensation and observation together in ways that are both delicate and pronounced. Like his diverse palette, Samthing Soweto’s strong suit is his ability to communicate from a range of vantage points. 

One such instance is his trope-flipping lyricism on Sun-El Musician’s “Akanamali,” a breakout hit that brought him mainstream success. Offering a more upbeat version of the artist without sacrificing his propensity for aligning narrative with beguiling harmony, this fusion of Amapiano, Afropop, and R&B was maintained on his debut release, ‘Isphithithi.’ This project housed standout songs like the Makhafula Vilakazi-featuring “Omama Bomthandazo,AmaDM,” and “Akulaleki,” crafted alongside ‘piano pioneers, Kabza De Small and DJ Maphorisa.

Shaking up dancefloors, the streets, and the charts was somewhat of a departure for Samthing Soweto as his music often resisted classification and occupied the peripheries, as EPs ‘This N That Without Tempo’ and ‘Eb’suku’ do. It’s in this context that this second LP exists, with Samthing Soweto once more eschewing the allure of a template by side-stepping the format employed on ‘Isphithithi.’

2025’s ‘Touch Is A Move (Good Morning)’ sees a musical shift as Samthing Soweto soulfully wades across more measured compositions helmed by producers like J Smash, Christer, and John Lundun. There are touches of Afropop, Jazz, Amapiano, Kwaito, and Hip-Hop here, in a signature defiance of the conventions of genre. Offering navigations of the personal, familial, and communal, Samthing Soweto addresses romance, responsibility, and self-determination. Rooted in the multi-faceted artist’s penchant for storytelling, this is a stirring collection of love letters to music, family, and his wider environment. 

What sets this project apart is its attention to the temporal, as Soweto (the township) functions as the backdrop for a typical day in the life of a young Samkelo Lelethu Mdolomba. While the past is evoked to draw out lessons of life and love, Samthing acts as our tour guide through the specific feelings and experiences informed by his locale. In some ways, this is the autobiographical wrapped in airy melody and augmented by theatrical interludes that recount regular domestic interactions. 

This invitation for us to eavesdrop on Soweto the man and be flies on the wall of Soweto the place, imbues the album with a keen interactivity. It also speaks to the sense of community espoused in the ‘(Good Morning)’ portion of the album title. As much as the rituals of youth shaped Samthing Soweto as a person, this ceremonial greeting of his online audience helped formulate this cinematic sophomore release. More than just addressing fans, these morning salutations maintained our collective relationship with Soweto, and extended to teased snippets that gauged the preferences of listeners. This appreciation for connection, at least in part, contributed to the iterative process that characterised a project five years in the making since his groundbreaking debut.

Although ‘Isphithithi’ garnered both critical and audience acclaim, a subsequent retreat following 2020’s Danko! EP left a Samthing Soweto-shaped void across the African music ecosystem. It is to this withdrawal into his own spaces, however, that we owe gratitude for ‘Touch Is A Move (Good Morning).’ His hiatus would coincide with intimate reflections on the different forms that love takes, from the parental and cultural to the nourishing and spiritual. These ruminations not only anchor this treatise but also serve as an embodiment of Samthing Soweto’s ethos. Because ‘Touch Is A Move’ is the result of several phases of editing, this is the manifesto of a 37-year-old singer-songwriter who’s had to labour in love. So while we witness young Samkelo’s growth across a symbolic Soweto day, his personal development is matched by this album’s occupation with cultivation. 

Every touch being a move speaks precisely to this act of learning, re-learning, and unlearning; not just about oneself and one’s loved ones, but also about one’s surroundings and craft. If there are any questions threaded through ‘Touch Is A Move,’ they are what, where, and who we look towards to gauge our evolution. Across the album’s 17 tracks, Samthing points to music, Soweto, and people like uGogo, uMama, bhut’ Lungisa, sis’ Amina, and sis’ BhiBhi as his touchpoints. These characters are central to interludes whose cross-generational interactions mimic the movement of pieces across a board game. They also inform the singer’s broad artistic palette, an amalgam of Gospel, Kwaito, R&B, Jazz, spoken word, and Amapiano, that itself serves as an avatar for the cosmopolitanism of Soweto township. It’s within these microcosms that the artist deftly posits community as the source of ritual, value adoption, and musical inclination.  

The stories that follow weave between the nostalgic and the now, with Samthing Soweto’s thoughts and feelings seemingly dictated by the time of day. There’s the perspective of a new father on “Amagents,” both a commentary on gender dynamics and a warning to a daughter about the downside of romantic relations. That protective element also shines through on “Deda,” itself a plea for a loved one’s safe return home. The appreciation of culture on “Indandatho,” which posits lobola (bride price) as a celebration of love and tradition, is juxtaposed against more contemporary cultural iconography, with the BMW Gusheshe taking centre stage on the flirtatious, Blxckie-assisted “325.” The vulnerability expressed on the album is palpable on songs like “Ngicela Sithandane” and “Yebo (Ngiyazifela),” which explore a desire to be cared for and the insecurities that can sprout during a relationship.

It’s the spirituality of album closer “Goodnight” that best encapsulates the play between interiority and externality on ‘Touch Is A Move. This journey may be soundtracked by Samthing Soweto, but it is taken in unison with a maturing Samkelo. As he ponders a day flush with the rich experiences of his family life and the township, it’s uGogo who summons the night with prayer. Despite making moves out in the world, it’s in his home, the blessings of his kinfolk, and the bosom of God that he seeks refuge. Ultimately, ‘Touch Is A Move (Good Morning)’ is a portrait of Samthing Soweto journeying in perpetual motion, but always finding his way back to where he belongs.  

Listen to Touch Is A Move (Good Morning)’ here

Maleek Berry Embraces Rebirth On ‘If Only Love Was Enough’

Most producers can put in their ten thousand hours on Fruity Loops and still never come close to creating the magic that Maleek Berry did on his debut “The Matter.” This single was released in 2013, a time when Wizkid was on an impeccable run, but even he couldn’t outdo Maleek Berry on “The Matter.” Regarded by many as a modern classic, the song’s enduring quality is credited as much to the 37-year-old producer’s pounding drums and fuzzy synth notes as it is to Wizkid’s memorable performance. “The Matter” kick-started a fruitful partnership between the two, making Maleek Berry one of the most sought-after producers around. In the years that followed, the producer began to step to the forefront of his music, releasing a few singles like “They Know (Wan Mo)” and “For My People” with British rapper Sneakbo, but it wasn’t until a few years later that he truly came into his own. 

In late 2016, Maleek Berry released his debut EPLast Daze Of Summer. While his hit single “Kontrol” from earlier that year had given listeners a taste of his bouncy and warm strain of Afropop, it was on that debut project that he truly expounded on this unique sound that evoked the twilight bliss of summertime. Cuts like “Eko Miami” and “Flexin” fully capture this distinct and nostalgic sound that 2016 continues to be remembered for. Two years later, he released ‘First Daze Of Winter,’ another 6-track EP that served as a sort of antithesis to his debut. His sophomore EP introduced a moodier side to his sound, but the music never lost the kinetic bounce that made his songs so catchy and fun. 

After years of continuous experimentation, fusing different elements from Afropop, R&B, to Grime and Garage, Maleek Berry has just released his long-awaited debut album ‘If Only Love Was Enough.’ The album comes four years after his last project, ‘Isolation Room,’ marking a significant moment in Maleek Berry’s decade-long career as well as a welcome comeback after an extended period of inactivity. A couple of weeks after the release of ‘If Only Love Was Enough,’ we caught up with the producer-turned-artist, discussing the journey it took to finally deliver his debut album, his South London background, his love for fashion and much more. 

It’s been a few days since the release of your debut album, ‘If Only Love Was Enough.’ How do you feel?

It feels amazing to finally give the world the music. It’s a relief, and I also feel that at the time where we are right now in Afrobeats, there needs to be a shift in sound and sonics. So it feels good, and the right time to release. 

You’ve released three EPs before this new album. Why did you think it was time to finally release your debut album?

Delay, to best put it. I’ve always wanted to drop an album, but I have a lot more respect for albums than the average person. So I didn’t want to put out a full LP till I was ready, and I also wanted to be in a certain business position where I would be able to put out the album the way I want to put it out. I spent a lot of time restructuring and getting my business in order. One of the most important things I had to do was create my imprint, Berry’s Room (Maleek Berry’s record label). I felt like this was finally the time for it. As they say, delay is not denial. 

I’d like to know how your background as a Nigerian growing up in South London shaped your sound early on, and how you think that sound has evolved over the years. 

During the time when I was raised in South London, it wasn’t necessarily cool to be African. But I was raised in a family where we were encouraged to be proud of our roots. I come from a family that has a strong history as well. So I never lost my identity, and I think that gave me some form of strength in the way I approached my music early on. It also added to my strengths in understanding how to make global music. From my maternal side, we’re from Ijebu, and from my paternal side, we’re from Abeokuta. Having that deep, strong connection to our heritage, as well as meeting so many different people, gave me a wider perspective and view on music. 

My sound has evolved from what it used to be. I’ll say it’s a lot more mature now. I’m not trying to be someone that I’m not. I’ve always tried to understand my strengths and weaknesses, and now, as I evolve, I just try to own my strengths even more and blend all the music I grew up listening to, whether it’s Afrobeats, R&B, Fuji, Juju or Grime and Garage. 

What was the inspiration behind the title for your new album, ‘If Only Love Was Enough’?

I know the title is a mouthful, but I feel like it speaks for itself. I’ve always wanted to make an album with a provocative title. I feel like everyone can relate to that. Just to give an example, I was on a podcast the other day, and there was an argument about whether love was enough, so I posed a question to one of the ladies on there: If love was enough, would you allow your partner propose to you with a Haribo ring? I asked that question just to show that there are deeper things to consider. There are things like emotional intelligence, the pressure to be successful pretty early as a man and many other things. So it’s like a mix of ambition and trying to find love. 

You spent a lot of time in Nigeria making this album. Was that a deliberate decision, or was it simply circumstantial?

I was shuffling back and forth between the UK and Nigeria while I was making this album. A lot of the cultural sounding songs like “Biggie Man,” “Lagos Party,” I had to come back home to finish those songs. Something was missing in those songs, and I felt like for me to give my all, I needed to be back home. The weather, being around live local music, hearing the percussion and grooves again, just helped me get back into that energy, and I’m very happy I did that. A lot of those songs, I didn’t like how they were sounding before, but now they sound amazing to me. 

You collaborated with a few different artists on this album, but I’d like to speak about Wizkid. How do you think your musical relationship with him has evolved over the years?

We’ve both grown so much musically. He’s a global superstar now, but our musical relationship hasn’t changed much. We’ve both had a love for music that’s true. Wiz has always been a big fan of R&B and songwriting and stuff like that. So whenever we get together and make music, it feels like two kids at the playground just playing. It feels natural, organic. Before I finished this album, when I was in Lagos, I played him some of the updated songs. He’s heard different versions of these songs because he’s been one of the people who’s been pushing me to drop this album. 

I’m also curious about your relationship with Legendury Beatz, who are the only other credited producer on the album aside from you. 

Legendury Beatz are some of the only producers that I can work with, and I know that I can go to sleep knowing I’ll wake up to a hit. I know I’m going to get quality, premium-standard production from those guys. It’s interesting because “Situation,” with Wizkid, is like a full-circle moment. Back in the day, we came with Wiz, and Starboy, that whole production camp, we were almost untouchable. Coming up with them and having this song with Wizkid now, where they produced the song, it’s like the best feeling for me ever. 

Do you have a favourite song on the album?

A personal favourite will probably be “The Pain,” the last song on the album. 

Outside of music, I learnt you’re into fashion and tech. Can you tell me a bit more about those interests?

I’m a super tech enthusiast. It’s no secret that I’m a computer science graduate. I’m a little bit of a nerd at heart. At Berry’s Room, we’re trying to infuse tech into what we’re doing musically. That’s something I’m going to be talking about more in the future. I’m super interested in what’s going on in the tech space in Nigeria and Africa as a whole. At the moment, we’ve also secured a partnership with a distribution company to build a pipeline that’ll help distribute for the next generation of African talent. We’re doing a lot of exciting things. 

I’ve always been a fashion guy as well, even though you might not see me at Fashion Week. Back in the day, I used to go to visit The Sartorialist website a lot, and I’ll just learn a lot about the fashion industry and culture. 

If your listeners and fans could take away one emotion from your album, what would you want it to be?

Joy.

Listen to ‘If Only Love Was Enough’ here.

uNder Spotlight: Fimi Is Here to Give You What You’ve Been Craving

Before she had a name for it, Fimi was already rapping. Raised by two pastors in a devout Christian household in Oshogbo with limited access to secular music, she found her flow from experimenting with the church keyboard. 

Hip-Hop is an exciting genre. But it becomes most alive when someone equally as exciting appears and bends it back toward itself. You listen to Fimi and realize quickly: this is a generative force. Armed with a chameleonic flow layered with wit and rhythm, she’s mastered the kind of theatrical, narrative-driven rap that keeps you alert, shifting tone and cadence mid-verse to heighten the emotion or drop a surprise. Even with a modest catalogue, the range and promise are watertight with singles like “BEEF” concretising her tenacity and “Halo” hinting at an artist attuned to her interiority. 

The NATIVE chatted with the rapper about self-belief, giving listeners what they’ve been seeking, and her drive to always do what she wants.

What’s your first memory of falling in love with Hip-Hop?

My interest in music started in church. I grew up in Oshogbo, Osun State, and both my parents are pastors. I was in the choir, so I had access to the church keyboard, and I’d always play around with it, write some rhymes; I wasn’t even sure I was rapping, I just knew I was doing something musical, and it felt good. Fast forward to 2012, when the Disney movie Let It Shine came out, and that was when I realized I wanted to rap. I wanted to be like the main character, Truth, so badly. He was a pastor’s kid and a rapper; that inspired me.

I wish I had a more interesting story to tell, like, “I was always in my room listening to Tupac.” But I grew up in Oshogbo. I don’t know if it was the city or just the fact that my parents are pastors, but I didn’t have access to all those ‘worldly’ things, if you know what I mean. 

When I listen to you, I hear a bit of Doechii, Nicki Minaj, and Eminem. “Hey Shawy” blew me away. What kind of rapper are you, with regards to your stylistic choices?

Hey Shawy” was heavily inspired by Eminem. At the time, I was trying out different genres and rap techniques. I do that a lot; I’ll pick an artist as a case study and study how they rap: their rhyme schemes, cadences, patterns. Then I’ll try to do my version of it. With “Hey Shawy,” Eminem was my playbook. When it comes to my rap style, I wouldn’t say I have one fixed style. I don’t want to box myself in. I’m always evolving.

How would you describe where Nigerian Hip-Hop is right now, and do you think you’re arriving at an exciting time?

Yes, I’m happy to be here right now, for selfish reasons, to be honest. I feel like I’m arriving at a time when people’s ears are desperate for new sounds, and I genuinely believe I’m bringing what they’ve been craving. Hip-Hop is exciting right now, also a little different, and I celebrate that. I love that people are free to express their creativity however they want. Just like Afrobeats is having its moment right now, I believe Nigerian Hip-Hop can have its moment very soon. It’s closer than we think.

Who are your favourite rappers?

I love Nicki Minaj. She was my first real exposure to rap. I mean, I knew Weird MC and I’d heard of “Ijoya,” but to be honest, I didn’t know at that time that Weird MC was a woman. I honestly thought she was a man. But Nicki? It was the first time I saw a woman rap. I remember always watching the “Anaconda” video–partially for the nudity–but mostly because I was inspired that a woman was doing what I wanted to do. Other favorites, off the top of my head, are Eva Alordiah and Ladipoe. I wouldn’t say ODUMODUBLVCK, but I respect the uniqueness he’s bringing to the game. I’m obsessed with Doja Cat. I love it when artists carry their sense of humor into their art. Shoutout to Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole, Lauryn Hill, Nicki Minaj, Tierra Whack, Doechii, Qveen Herbie, and Tyler, The Creator. 

Your style has such a nostalgic but avant-garde vibe to it. What’s the intention behind that?

I try to stay connected to my roots in everything I do. Whether I’m rapping or dressing up, I like to infuse my culture, which is Yoruba. I’m a Yoruba girl, and I always want to represent that. With my style, the things I wear now are actually what I used to wear as a kid: church hats, iro and buba, lace, native fabrics, etc. I’ve just made them look better and more feminine. It’s really important to me to stay in touch with my roots as much as possible.

In “Welcome to Therapy,” you state that to win, you have to ‘make it through the man’s world.’ What can the industry and listeners do to better support women in rap?

I’m very passionate about this. First of all, as a woman in the industry, I want to break the pressure to fit into a box. I’ve noticed that there’s a way women are expected to sound, to think, and to look. My mantra, now and forever, is to do whatever I want to do. 

Listeners, stop calling us “female rappers.” We’re all just rappers. I want people to listen. People get distracted by what they see. They focus on our bodies, our clothes, and our appearance, instead of the music. I want people to listen to the delivery, to the pen, to the things we’re saying. Don’t let superficial things distract you from the art. Also, stop comparing us to one another. It happens way too often with women. Even Chloe and Halle [Bailey] get compared, and they’re sisters. Let women have their lanes without constantly being pitted against each other.

As for the industry, it needs to let women do what they want to do, creatively, visually, musically, and support us when we do. There’s a huge emphasis on physicality. It’s like it wants us to sell our bodies, not our music. Shoutout to women who do genuinely want to express themselves in that way, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. But not every woman wants to take that route, and that should be just as valid.

Any upcoming projects we should be keeping an eye out for?

I’m staying mysterious. Just know something’s coming.

What kind of lasting cultural impact do you want Fimi to have?

The greatest, most fulfilling impact I want my music and my image to have is on the younger generation. I want to inspire people the same way Nicki Minaj inspired me. When I was younger, she struck something in me. I looked up to her, and she made me feel like what I dreamed of doing was possible. That’s exactly what I want to do for young women who think rap isn’t for them, that it’s a “man’s thing.” I want them to see me and think, “If Fimi can do it, then I can do it too.” 

Best New Music: TMZY And Yiizi Explore The Motions Of Romance On “Ayawa”

There has never been a more rewarding time to be a music lover. The democratic access that social media allows means that listeners are exposed to a wide variety of acts whose music mines the minutiae of their lives and the circumstances of their experiences as inspiration for their work.  In many ways, that sense of believability is crucial in distinguishing acts that stand out in our crowded digital world, and rising singers, TMZY and Yiizi, possess that believability in spades. Their music, reflecting the pulse and vibrancy of their Ebute Metta upbringing, ruminates on the dynamics of modern dating. They are at once frustrated, enamored, and oddly amused by the financial necessities of dating as a young person in Lagos. 

Last year, after teasing listeners with freestyles filmed all over their hood,  they made a big splash with their debut, “Money Over Love,” a zestful, youth-fuelled dedication to the utility of cash as the primary catalyst for romantic love. Another single, “Omalicha,” expands on the precepts set out on “Money Over Love,” praising a love interest for her alluring qualities. It all set the stage for their debut project, ‘Money Over Love,’ which takes its name from their debut single. 

On ‘Money Over Love,’ the brother duo presents a fuller vision of their sound, while tincturing their melodies with vocabulary sharpened by interests that intersect between the streets and online lingo. No track reflects TMZY and Yiizi’s nimble mastery of melodies, penchant for colourful storytelling, and palpable chemistry like the project’s opening track, “Ayawa.” 

Like most of what has come from the brothers before now, they are head over heels for a lover and are keen to show the depth of their feelings. “Ayawa,” the Yoruba word for “our wife,” is used as a metaphor for living happily ever after with their loved one. Impressively, they manage to weave their sticky-sweet verses in Yoruba, English, and pidgin without losing any of the rhythm that listeners of the brothers have become accustomed to. Listening to the song, there are giveaways that the brothers are dialed into the cutting edge of music. “Ayawa” is cut from the sample drill style that American rapper and producer, Cash Cobain, has popularised, with the brothers choosing a humorous sample as a backbone for this track. 

In just a little over two minutes on ‘Ayawa,” the brothers manage to pack in a week’s worth of thrills, promising a trip to Las Vegas, decking her out in designer outfits, and a visit to her parents’ to formalise their affairs. Almost impressively, they have a more nuanced grasp on healthy romance, candidly asking, “Would you stand by me?” It is a welcome micro-evolution from where we met the brothers on “Money Over Love,” and a reminder that they are master wielders of narrative with the world buying into their enjoyable music. 

Listen to ‘Money Over Lovehere

A Ranking Of Burna Boy’s Albums 

Twelve years into his storied career, Burna Boy is operating from the pinnacle of Afropop, praised for his non-conformist take on the genre and a propulsive personality that has moved the culture forward in many ways. Perhaps the biggest influence he has had on Afropop is the return of albums as a gold standard in the genre. Somewhere between 2013 and 2019, Afropop became a singles market that effectively catered to whoever had the hottest song out at any given moment. 

While the place for those singles still exists, Burna Boy has shown, over the years, that there’s a need to prioritise albums for legacy-building in this zeitgeist. Ultimately, the most incisive Burna Boy moments have arrived within the confines of his albums, whether on the demons-exorcising ‘On A Spaceship’ or the triumphant ‘African Giant.’  As one of the few Nigerian acts who always cared about that form, he has one of the deepest catalogues in modern Afropop, starting from 2013’s ‘L.I.F.E (Leaving an Impact For Eternity).’ With an eighth album from the African Giant on the horizon, the team at The NATIVE gathered together to rank all the Burna Boy albums and revisit the catalogue of one of Africa’s most gifted musicians. 

‘African Giant’ 

Burna Boy’s infamous response to his position on the 2019 Coachella billing meant that he had to deliver on his 4th studio album. “I am an AFRICAN GIANT and will not be reduced to whatever that tiny writing means,” he wrote on Instagram, asserting that Africa will not be marginalised while also staking a claim as one of the continent’s best musicians. The music that came on ‘African Giant’ more than backed up this claim. While his previous album ‘Outside’ produced some of his finest cuts to date, ‘African Giant’ significantly raised the benchmark for Pop music in Africa, putting the world on notice that a new global superstar had been minted. – Boluwatife Adeyemi

Outside’  

It’s very difficult to explain how precariously Burna Boy’s career hung in the balance pre-2018.   The details of his personal life and reported misdemeanours threatened to overwhelm what was supposed to be a standout career; he needed an outlet for all he was feeling and where he was headed. 2018’s ‘Outside’ proved to be that outlet and launching pad for what is now regarded as an Afropop history-making run. From its start to finish, ‘Outside’ is packed with biographical details that capture Burna coming to terms with where he’s at in his career and grappling with what the future holds. “I ain’t gettin’ no younger,” he sang on “More Life.” Not one to be bothered by inconsequential details, that age quip quickly dissolved into the background as Burna Boy got to work on crafting a project that brought him back from the edge of the precipice. Originally billed as a mixtape, ‘Outside’ is now regarded as a seminal Burna Boy album, a living, breathing dedication to evolution and reinvention – Wale Oloworekende

Twice As Tall’  

Burna Boy is at his best when his back is against the wall or when he has a point to prove. He seemed to have acquired the six infinity stones to create ‘African Giant,’ his magnum opus that earned him his first-ever Grammy nomination, which he famously lost to Beninese legend Angélique Kidjo. ‘Twice As Tall,’ which came a few months after the award show, was his swaggering response to this loss. The album’s striking vulnerability and kaleidoscopic interpretation of African Pop music helped him make giant strides, as the album secured his first Grammy in the Best Global Music category. – B.A

L.I.F.E (Leaving an Impact For Eternity)’  

In many ways, ‘L.I.F.E (Leaving an Impact For Eternity)’ represents the original codex of everything that Burna Boy has gone on to achieve throughout his career. There are stylistic reinterpretations of several genres, a chameleonic understanding of what each situation demands, and an almost savant-like level of execution across diverse soundscapes. The album’s cover art featured a collage of musical icons, including Fela Kuti, King Sunny Ade, and Bob Marley, in the backdrop of a picture of Burna Boy as a kid, deliberately positioning himself as a generational talent in that lineage of artistic greats. Pieced together with LeriQ, the music on ‘L.I.F.E’  largely held up to that audacious estimation of self. There are slippery dedications to living up life (“Tonight” and “Like to Party”), superstar link-ups (“Jahs Love is True,” “Abeg Abeg,” and “My City”), as well as vivid pop hits (“Boom Boom Boom” and “Always Love You”). On ‘L.I.F.E,’  a promise was made to leave an impact for eternity, and it’s a promise that’s since been kept – W.O

‘’I Told Them…’ 

After his globetrotting efforts on ‘Love Damini,’ one of his weaker albums in recent times, Burna Boy took a more familiar and focused approach on his 7th studio album ‘I Told Them…’ The result is a sturdy and well-curated, Grammy-nominated album that indicates the superstar singer was showing no sign of weakness even before he announced the title of his eighth studio album. Save for the ludicrous penultimate track “Thanks,” which features American rapper J.Cole, ‘I Told Them…’ houses stellar cuts like “Dey Play,” “Giza,”City Boys,” and a few others which are some of the most enjoyable and compelling cuts in Burna Boy’s robust discography so far. – B.A

‘Love, Damini’ 

Coming just two years after the euphoric Grammy-winning success of 2020’s  ‘Twice As Tall,’  Love, Damini’ revealed a new layer to the artistry of Burna Boy, showcasing a glossed-over sensitivity that the Port Harcourt-born star had rarely shown across the full length of a project. In homage to his global reputation, there were big blockbuster collaborations with Ed Sheeran, J Balvin, J Hus, and Khalid. Still, the narrative of Love, Damini’ is effectively defined by tracks that reflect on topics that everyday Nigerians can relate to. On “Whiskey,” there’s a reference to the environmental hazard caused by oil flaring in Port Harcourt, “Common Person” was a heart-tugging attempt to remind everyone that he’s still a human being, while the record-breaking “Last Last” effectively showed that even the biggest stars were not immune to the destabilising effects of heartbreak.  – W.O

‘On A Spaceship’ 

‘On A Spaceship’ is Burna Boy’s least memorable album, and for good reason. Along with his trusted producer LeriQ, the singer was able to craft a fine debut album that quickly set him apart as one of the most talented names around at the time. He, however, couldn’t meet the standards he set for himself on his lackluster sophomore. ‘On A Spaceship’ lacked the cohesion of its predecessor, and it was also noticeably missing the trusted hands of LeriQ. Even though the album managed to produce noteworthy songs like “Soke,” and “Rizzla,” they weren’t enough to save a body of work that felt largely uninspired. – B.A

Examining The Musical Connection Between Ghana And Jamaica

In May, Moliy’s “Shake It To The Max (Fly)” rose to the top of the Billboard U.S. Afrobeats Songs chart, dethroning Tyla’s “Push 2 Start,” which had spent 20 consecutive weeks at the No. 1 spot. “Shake It To The Max (Fly),” which initially debuted on the chart about four months ago, has remained at No. 1 since its rise to the top, coming a long way from its original release in November 2024. The single has also become Moliy’s highest-charting single in numerous other countries worldwide, including the United Kingdom, Canada, Germany, Austria, and Switzerland.

The Ghanaian-American singer, who already achieved some global success for her stellar contribution to Amaarae’s “Sad Girlz Luv Money,” struck gold again late last year once she began to tease a snippet of a new single featuring Jamaican producer Silent Addy. The song’s breezy fusion of Dancehall and Afropop quickly inspired an uncomplicated dance challenge that went viral on social media. 

Everyone from professional dancers to market women participated in the challenge, helping the song go viral weeks before its official release. Moliy finally dropped the single in November after weeks of relentless teasing, and it took off almost immediately. Three months later, Jamaican stars Skillibeng and Shensea hopped on the remix, taking the song from a regional viral sensation to a globally recognised smash hit. 

At the 2025 BET Awards, Moliy became the first Ghanaian artist to perform at the prestigious award show, giving a show-stopping performance of “Shake It To The Max (Fly),” which underscores just how much of a global hit the single has become. While the single and her memorable BET performance have helped etch her name in the history books, the success of “Shake It To The Max (Fly)” is a natural progression of Ghanaian and Jamaican musical connections, which comes from a long, shared history that has blossomed over the years. 

Though separated by thousands of miles, Ghana and Jamaica share a profound cultural connection that finds its roots in the complex history of the Transatlantic slave trade. The forced migration of enslaved Africans, many of whom originated from or passed through territories in Ghana (like the Elmina Castle and Cape Coast Castle), laid the foundation for what shaped the demographic and cultural landscape of modern-day Jamaica. That shared past and cultural exchange forged an enduring bond between both countries that now shows up in various aspects of the culture, most evidently in music. 

Reggae and Dancehall, the two genres most synonymous with Jamaican culture, draw inspiration from traditional West African rhythms, while some of Ghana’s most prominent artists today also take influence from these popular Jamaican genres, furthering both countries’ historical ties. Before “Shake It To The Max (Fly)” became ubiquitous, there had been several collaborations between Ghanaian and Jamaican artists that also celebrate their rich musical heritage. In the early 2000s, Beenie Man and Ghanaian rap legend Reggie Rockstone teamed up on the remix of 2face’s “Nfana Ibaga,” while UK-based Ghanaian artist Fuse ODG featured global star Sean Paul on “Dangerous Love,” a hit single from his debut album ‘T.I.N.A,’ in 2014. 

Stonebwoy and Shatta Wale, two Ghanaian music stalwarts who draw heavily from Dancehall and Reggae, are some of the most prominent names responsible for popularising these genres across the continent. The former famously also teamed up with Sean Paul for his 2023 release “Most Original,” and he’s also worked with other Caribbean artists like Shaggy, Spice, and Morgan Heritage. In 2023, Shatta Wale linked up with Vybz Kartel, another Dancehall heavyweight, for an anthemic release titled “Mansa Musa Money.” The following year, he performed at Kartel’s Freedom Street concert, lighting up the legend’s first concert following his prison release in July 2024, when his conviction was overturned after serving 13 years. In an interview with N.O.R.E. and DJ EFN on the popular Drinks Champs podcast shortly after his concert, the world boss praised Shatta Wale, talking about his electric performance at the Freedom Street concert. “Shatta Wale from Ghana came to Freedom Street and fucked the place up. Yeah, that’s my bro.”

Other Ghanaian stars like Efya, rap legend Sarkodie, and J. Derobie have also collaborated with Jamaican artists. Sarkodie brought his A-game to a 2023 remix of Bob Marley & The Wailers’ 1973 classic “Stir It Up,” while J. Derobie featured Popcaan on the remix of his 2020 hit “Poverty.” 

While Moliy’s “Shake It To The Max (Fly)” has quickly risen to become the biggest collaboration between a Ghanaian and Jamaican artist in a short period – and it looks like it could stay that way for a while, significantly raising Moliy’s profile – the single is also hugely representative of an intricate tapestry of global cultures that continues to produce bops that ignite dancefloors locally and internationally. 

The NATIVE’s First Impressions Of BNXN’s ‘Captain’

Back in 2019, when BNXN broke through with the Zlatan-assisted “Spiritual,” it would have been hard to envisage the heights that the singer would eventually reach. From a young singer in Gbagada with dreams of traveling the world with his music, BNXN has become one of the most highly regarded Afropop acts working today, respected for the strength of his songwriting and his dulcet vocals that are as recognisable as they are sonorous. 

A series of successful years ultimately culminated in the release of his debut album, ‘Sincerely, Benson,’ in 2023. Billed as an earnest letter to fans invited into the sanctum of his world, ‘Sincerely, Benson’ cemented BNXN’s reputation as an artist in tune with his feelings as a compass for his music. In the two years since then, he has continued to be at the forefront of the genre, thanks to a joint tape with Ruger and collaborations with Rema, as well as rising stars like Taves and Fola. 

It’s all set the stage for the arrival of his sophomore album, ‘Captain,’ a self-complimenting indication of how the singer perceives himself and his position in the music industry.  With features from Victony, Seyi Vibez, and the Soweto Gospel Choir, BNXN is operating at a new level in his career. After a few listens to the new album, The NATIVE team gives our first impressions of ‘Captain.’

WHAT WERE YOUR EXPECTATIONS OF BNXN GOING INTO THIS ALBUM? 

Sien: I knew the album would be insane. I had heard bits and pieces and seen multiple tweets about him putting in a lot of time to perfect the album, so I was highly expectant. 

Bamise: As someone who has for the most part enjoyed BNXN’s music in bits and pieces and not collectively on a project, I was mostly curious to see if my previous sentiments would remain the same or if I’d have a different experience. However, listening made me realise I had been hoping for more in terms of sonic and vocal application; a more interesting and nuanced selection of instrumentals and seeing BNXN try out new vocal tricks, something to take his output on projects from a collection of good songs and passable ones to being cohesive, deeply compelling and immersive. Spoiler alert, I didn’t get that 🙁

Boluwatife: To be honest, I’m never really sure what to expect from BNXN. His previous projects have been nice, but they haven’t moved the needle in my opinion. Bnxn has always been able to make good songs, that’s well-established at this point. But I think his projects are always missing a little extra something, so I didn’t go into this one with high expectations. 

WHAT SONGS STOOD OUT ON THE FIRST LISTEN?

Wale: “Totori” was an instant favourite. He teased a snippet of it about four months ago and I had been looking forward to hearing a full version of it. I also liked “Ashimolowo” because of how he flipped that famous Twitter joke. That final stretch of the album is really hard, in my opinion 

Daniel Akins: “Cough Syrup” stands out. BNXN and Victony on a song together is like a mashup of beautiful melodies, and that’s exactly what listening to “Cough Syrup” felt like.

Shina: My pick will be between “Cough Syrup” and the title track. “Cough Syrup” because of the melodies and chemistry between Victony and BNXN, and  “Captain” mainly because of its production.

HOW WELL DO YOU THINK THE GUEST APPEARANCES ENHANCED THE LISTENING EXPERIENCE?

Israel: The guest appearances added range to the album. Each feature brought something unique, whether it was a different energy, perspective, or sound. They didn’t feel forced either; it felt like real collaborations, not just names on a tracklist.

Daniel Banjoko: The features were well thought out and didn’t feel like any were out of place. Everyone who appeared on the project came in to complement BNXN’s sound and not take away from it.

Moore: The guest appearances on ‘Captain’ are generally thoughtful and well-placed, adding dimension without overshadowing BNXN’s voice. Each feature feels purposeful, enhancing the emotional range of the album. The Soweto Gospel Choir’s contribution on “In Jesus Name” stood out to me in particular. Their harmonies bring a spiritual gravity that elevates the track without ever feeling overstated. 

WHAT SONG IS THE BIGGEST SKIP? 

Bamise: This is a tough one for me, not because of an absence of skips but rather because I think the album can be categorised into good songs, great songs, and then other songs that feel like an overstretched interlude. As a result, I go from finding myself locked in and vibing to the first four tracks, “I Alone” to “Very Soon,”  and then apparently to have zoned out till “Yes Sir” and “Laye Mi” come on. I also would not miss listening to “Totori.” 

Shina: So this is my opinion, and you should please respect it lol. The biggest skip for me would have to be “Jies.” First, I don’t even know what the word means, though I’m curious to find out, and secondly, compared to the rest of the songs on the project, it wasn’t memorable and didn’t catch me on first listen. Maybe on my third or fourth go, my opinion will change.

Wale: I didn’t like “Eleyi.” The issue with BNXN’s introspective style is that he can easily get lost in trying to nail down the specifics of a feeling or an emotion. That’s the issue I have with “Eleyi” for me, it just doesn’t translate well, and it doesn’t add anything to my listening experience. 

WHAT SONG HAS THE BIGGEST HIT POTENTIAL?

Daniel Akins: “Laye Mi” dropped ahead of the album. It’s a very solid song, and I think new listeners are about to discover how good of a song it is. The song has a now familiar BNXN chorus feel, and I think that is a recipe for a hit. 

Boluwatife: There are a couple of strong songs on this album with a lot of potential, but I think “Laye Mi” could quickly become one of those songs that slithers into everyone’s playlist. I liked it when I first heard it earlier in the week, and it still stands out on the album. It’s the type of breezy Afropopiano that could do well on the charts and airwaves. 

Daniel Banjoko: “Jies” really stood out to me. I’m really happy it wasn’t released before the project came out. It sounded fresh but also familiar, and I feel a lot of people will be drawn to the song sooner or later.

OVERALL FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Wale: I think this album is meant to be the inverse of ‘Sincerely, Benson,’ but it still mirrors it in many ways. The downstated flow, dragged-out melodies, and airy melodies. I like more than half of the songs on the project, but I need to sit with it some more because sometimes more songs grow on me. It’s good to hear new BNXN, though. 

Bamise: I really like how BNXN continues to make a case for R&B in his way. We don’t have a lot of guys in the mainstream carrying that torch, and I had a great time listening to the project (save for a few skips).  It feels like one of those albums they say “has something for everyone,” but beyond the cliché, I think there’s still work to be done to break away from delivering projects that are strong in pockets and veer into monotony in others, towards making one that feels compelling from start to finish. This, in my opinion, is a recurring issue with BNXN projects, but I’m rocking with RnBenson and will be giving “Jies” and “Cough Syrup” many more spins. 

Shina: Always a pleasure to listen to BNXN. The soft melodies, witty references,  familiar/favourite samples and interpolations were all present again on his sophomore project. On first listen, the project is sonically cohesive. No song felt out of place in my entire listen. My favourite part of the project was the latter half of the album. Sheesh, that was a great run. 

Listen to ‘Captain’ here.

Samthing Soweto Makes A Stirring Return On ‘Touch Is A Move (Good Morning)’

South African singer Samthing Soweto has released his new album, ‘Touch is a Move (Good Morning).’ The record, his first in almost five years, is a long-awaited follow-up to his award-winning album ‘Isphithiphithi.’ Even though Samthing Soweto had already found some success early in his career with the popular a cappella group, The Soil, it was his solo 2019 release that helped etch his name into South Africa’s musical history books. 

With ‘Isphithiphithi,’ Samthing Soweto bagged Best Afropop Album award at the 2020 South African Music Awards, and he became the first South African artist to simultaneously hold the top spot on Apple Music’s South African singles and album charts. While the 37-year-old vocalist borrowed heavily from Pop and Amapiano to create ‘Isphithiphithi,’ he’s returned to his Soul, Jazz, and a cappella roots on ‘Touch is a Move.’ 

‘Touch Is a Move (Good Morning)’ was inspired by a childhood rule from playing board games that stated that once you touched a piece in any game, you had to play it. Across the album’s 17 tracks, the Johannesburg native set his melodious ruminations about family, fatherhood, and love to soothing production courtesy of names like John Lundun, Ross Darkin, Christer Kobedi, and Soweto himself. 

The album features standouts like the smooth “Don’t Wanna Let Go” and Blxckie-assisted “Ama Get Down.” “Deda,” a moving ballad that reflects the internal conflict of loving someone who is drawn to nightlife is another album highlight while “Amagent,” a more heartfelt number, functions as both a tender dedication to his daughter as well as a stirring call to action, imploring a generation to step up and actively protect its women. 

Along with his sublime voice, which hasn’t lost any of its texture and tenderness, and a couple of interludes and skits (“Sister Sister 1,” “Sister Sister 2,” “Bhut’Lungisa 1,” and “Bhut’Lungisa 2,”) meticulously inserted across the project, Samthing Soweto delivers another album that carries the emotional poignancy and soothing feeling that his music has become popular for. 

Listen to ‘Touch Is a Move (Good Morning)’ here

Darkoo Has the Soundtrack to Your $exy Girl $ummer

At the end of February 2025, Darkoo had a suite of songs that she believed would make up the follow-up to 2020’s ‘2 in I,’ but something was amiss.  “I loved the records on there, it made sense, but there was a side of me that didn’t feel content,” the singer quietly explains over a Zoom call early in June, just weeks before the release of her new project,  ‘$exy Girl $ummer.’ To assuage the unease she was feeling, Darkoo flew to Zanzibar with her team of producers and writers to decompress and enjoy some time in the sun. 

In Zanzibar, with a pool a stone’s throw away and a gorgeous view to relax her mind, Darkoo recorded a new set of songs that felt intuitively suited to the new arc of her career as a summer hitmaker. “Being in London with the moody weather while you’re trying to make a song for summer can be hard,” she explained. “You have to be in it to feel it. Waking up every day and seeing how beautiful Zanzibar is with the beach and clear seas just evokes a different feeling in the sound.” That quest to stir a strong feeling has been central to what Darkoo has been about for much of the last two years. 

Since the release of 2024’s “Favourite Girl” with American rapper Dess Dior – and a remix with Rema – Darkoo has swaggered to the forefront of Afropop thanks to a cache of singles that pay homage to the 2000s era of Nigerian Pop and Dancehall while being almost exclusively crafted to soundtrack feminine joy and enjoyment. “Men make music that speaks about women, but they don’t make music for women,” she explains. “They don’t make music for women to feel good, to listen to, and feel empowered. Or feel like they can dance to, or that it’s about them. I feel like I’m just filling in the gap, and it’s something I enjoy doing.”

For casual listeners of Darkoo, the pivot from a Grime-influenced MC to an emotive singer might have come out of the blues, but a closer listen to her music reveals the same sentimentality that birthed her summery-ready hits. 2019’s “Gangsta” is built around a promise to hold a lover down regardless of what may test their love, while the 4Keus-featuring “Cinderella” is a swooning dedication to a love interest. She’s keen to show the depth of her artistry, holding on to her Nigerian heritage from the start and releasing music that references the music culture back home.

I move through UK rap with ease because that’s where I started, but Afrobeats is in my DNA,” she says. “I’m Nigerian and British, so both worlds naturally show up in my sound. I don’t box myself in. One day it’s melodic rap with bass-heavy drums, the next it’s a feel-good Afro rhythm that makes people move. For me, it’s all about emotion and authenticity. If it feels real, I’ll tap into it no matter the genre.”

These days, she’s leaning into music from Nigeria more than ever, flipping nostalgic anthems from the early 2000s into chart-topping hits. It came from a period of serious re-education for the singer, who took time out to reacquaint herself with the anthems that formed the foundational roots of Afropop as we know it today. “There was a period when I was just listening to a lot of old-school music,” Darkoo says.  “I kind of got bored with making music, and I just decided to go down that rabbit hole. I educated myself about those sounds, and I locked in with my producer to reinterpret those sounds. We tried to make those sounds feel like how they felt in the early 2000s.”

Crucially, she has a knack for selecting just the right songs to flip. A sample of the classic Dancehall bop, “Diwali Riddim,” animates “Favourite Girl” while  P-Square’s smash hit, “Gimme Dat,” inspires “Focus on Me (All the Sexy Girls in the Club). There was some legal wrangling around the release of the song, but Darkoo is sanguine about the disagreement that threatened her song, chalking it up to differences in opinions. “It was more of a misunderstanding and misalignment than anything else,” she clarifies. “The clearance for P-Square’s “Gimme Dat” on “Focus On Me” actually did go through, but the process around it wasn’t the smoothest. These things can get tricky, especially when it comes to honoring legacy records while still trying to push your sound.”

The sound that she put forward on her new project, ‘$exy Girl $ummer,’ carries proof of her evolution six years after “Gangsta” as she sets her sights on global domination. “I’m stepping into who I am, not just as an artist, but as a woman,” she says. “I’ve found my sound, my confidence, and I’ve learned how to make music that speaks to women, not just about them. There’s a deeper understanding now. It’s not just vibes, it’s intentional. I’m more sure of myself, more in control of my art, and this project is the reflection of that growth.”

An indication of that growth is in how she’s finding herself tethered to her roots once again through music. “Your Number,” one standout off ‘$exy Girl $ummer’ samples “Gongo Aso,” the seminal hit by 9ice. Rapper, Zlatan, was instrumental in making the song happen, connecting Darkoo with ID Cabasa. “I saw that Zlatan had done something with ID Cabasa on one of his ‘Reimagined’ songs,” Darkoo explains. “So, I hit up Zlatan and asked if he could link me up with Cabassa. He linked me up, and I played him the idea because, at that time, it was just an idea. We got into talking, and he loved it.”

Just a few weeks ago, she was featured on “Billionaires Club” alongside Wizkid off Olamide’s self-titled 11th studio album. It’s much-needed validation that she’s headed in the right direction. “It’s an amazing feeling to have that respect from people who are at the top of their game,” she says. “I’m not going to lie to you, it makes me feel amazing. I’m human, so on some days, I’m not feeling myself. Working with these types of artists just reinforces to me that you’re the shit because these guys have been doing it for years and they make amazing music.”

Importantly, she’s ignoring snide comments about her working with old classics. “I feel like some people see the songs and don’t like them, but they don’t realise that music is a circle,” she explains. 

“Everything comes from something. Even the creation and the process that gives birth to the songs. I’ve been in the studio many times and tried to make a song that sounds like something I just listened to. There are some elements from that song that’ll carry over.”

Listen to $exy Girl $ummerhere

Review: Olamide’s ‘Olamide’

For the quintessential Olamide fanwho has diligently followed his career, listened to and memorised his bars both on albums and featured songs, watched him perform live at least once at his Olamide Live in Concert series, and watched him grow from a passionate rapper into successful record label executivethere is an overdraft of goodwill for him to draw. 

Olamide has had an extraordinary career trajectory, from studio rat at Coded Tunes Records to head honcho at YBNL, the independent record label he established to release his second album, ‘Yahoo Boy No Laptop,’ in 2012. Olamide’s never-say-die spirit of resilience and drive to transcend generational poverty by leaning into his creativity made him the poster boy for the Lagos working-class kid. The son of a commercial driver living in Ladilak, Bariga, in the 90s, he rapped his way out of the marshy ghetto to prosperity. 

Olamide belongs to the cohort of Afrobeats musicians who began releasing music around the time the genre finally acquired its current misnomer. Like Wizkid (first album, ‘Superstar,’ released in 2011), Davido (first album released in 2012), and Burna Boy (first mixtape released in 2011), Olamide entered the music scene on the shoulders of their forebears when he released ‘Rapsodi’ in 2011. He was the rising star of the Coded Tunes label, helmed by producer ID Cabassa, when 9ice was already the golden goose. That camp’s unique take on contemporary music was crystallised on 9ice’s sophomore album ‘Gongo Aso,’ an adventurous, synth-laden, percussion-heavy production showcasing a flair for both deep and contemporary Yoruba lyricism. 

9ice’s successful foray into Yoruba lyrics coincided with an Afrobeats epoch when Hip-hop was mainstream. In 2006, Modenine released ‘E’Pluribus Unum,’ his most commercial album to date, winning praise and enjoying massive radio play. The most significant rap success from this era was M.I. Abaga, an excellent wordsmith who embraced sophisticated music production, thereby endearing himself to an audience that would typically shun Hip-Hop.

In 2008, MI’s debut LP, ‘Let’s Talk About It,’ was on every young Nigerian’s lips. In less than two years, two seismic shifts would unfold. First, a cohort of aspiring rappers–including Wizkid and Skales–responding to the global musical landscape, would launch their musical careers as certified vocalists. The second evolution was that a gang of aspiring rappers eschewed the usual practice of delivering verse in American-inflected accents, instead adopting indigenous languages. In Lagos, arguably the music capital at the time, Yoruba was the lingua franca.

Dagrin, the first commercially successful Yoruba act, unfortunately, died shortly after the release of his acclaimed second album, ‘Chief Executive Omo-Ita.’ Shorn of fillers, the record housed 12 impactful songs, vividly portraying the magical and mundane aspects of the dreams and aspirations of a young working-class Nigerian youth. He mined humour for its meaning, leaned on marijuana spliffs for psychedelic distortion of lived reality, and catcalled women with abandon. 

It was this template that was handed down to Olamide, the most unlikely heir to Dagrin’s template, given that there were other heavy contenders—Reminisce, Lord of Ajasa, 2Phat—with more skin in the game. The rapper formerly known as G-Dogg showcased his rhyming skills when he penned a moving tribute to Dagrin. Once the void triggered by Dagrin’s death bequeathed him the spotlight, Olamide doubled down on his effort and did unimaginable things in Yoruba music.

Listen to ‘Rapsodi’ today, and you will encounter an impressionable rapper with graphic depictions of his lived experience. It would take a few years and albums to find his perfect pitch. Much of his early work was characterised by its irreverent humour, crass jokes, and wisecracks that couldn’t travel out of Ladilak. By the time he released his third album, ‘Baddest Guy Ever Liveth,’ he had fully come into his own. 

For much of his career, Olamide has sought to strike a delicate balance between making street-sanctioned gems, pop-facing music, and meaningful love songs. This means one thing: despite his incredible work rate, his songs are not always unsuccessful. Historically, his LP albums have been uneven. While albums like ‘YBNL,’ ‘Street OT,’ and ‘Eyan Mayweather’ are filled with songs we never really hear anymore, Baddest Guy Ever Liveth and The Glory stand out as albums where creativity and thematic concepts are on par. His 2017 album, ‘Lagos Nawa,’ felt like a lacklustre effort that came too quickly after the successful 2016 album, ‘The Glory.’ His most recent EP, ‘Ikigai / 生き甲斐, Vol. 1,’ is his most successful project since the COVID gem, ‘Carpe Diem.’ 

A time comes in an artist’s career when you lend your name to a body of work. This notion exempts rap god Eminem, whose rampant confessionalism demanded an early and sustained obsession with the self. Beyoncé’s self-titled album, released in 2013, in retrospect, is a mid-career gem. Crossing the Atlantic into Nigeria, Sunny Ade named his pivotal 1974 record, ‘Sunny Ade Vol 1,; after himself. It was his breakaway album from his former benefactor, Chief Abioro, and his Take Your Choice record label. Ade’s existential anxiety drips into the blend of vibrant guitars, Yoruba percussion and rhetoric-rich lyricism. For Chauntese Aṣa, it was her 2007 classic debut, where she entered her elegant songwriting into the annals of eternity. 

Olamide has chosen to name this late-career album after himself, but there is a catch, or should I say an errant diacritic. Olamidé. A Yoruba speaker can spot the problem here. The correct Yoruba spelling for Olamide is Ọlámidé. What could be a genuine error or a stylish omission is indeed an egregious misnomer, especially from a musician who has captured our attention by the exciting way he has used the Yoruba language. 

Perhaps those of us who care about Yoruba are not the intended audience of this record. This is another disappointment, especially for Olamide, who earlier in his career rapped convincingly on his 2014 record,“Prayer for Client.” “3 million for Ibadan don do me/500k UK e no do me,” he sang. I strongly advocate for artists maximising their earnings, and the lure of forex is unimaginable, but the approach of Olamide’s cohort to this whole Afrobeats to the World project is as though their global achievement is unprecedented. 

This is not the first time African music crossed the Atlantic Ocean. Majek Fashek happened. Before him, there was Fela Anikulapo-Kuti. King Sunny Ade released three albums (‘Juju Music,’ ‘Syncro System,’ and ‘Aura’) with Island Records and toured in more than forty-five cities in America in the early 80s. He presented himself as a worthy ambassador of his genre of music, Juju, and of Yoruba culture. 

Once one gets past the errant diacritic, the job of critiquing does not get easier. The record opens with “Prelude”, a cabaret-styled time capsule transporting you into the belly of a smoky Sinatra-styled jazz bar. Full credit to the warm vocals of newcomer Fxrtune, but this is a false start. The album truly opens with “Hasibunallah”, where Olamide coopts Arabic with a proficiency that he has shown throughout his career. By the time you hear the sultry “Kai,” his duet with Wizkid, the album’s tone is set: Olamide intends to sing. True to form, he out-sings Wizkid. He has shown an aptitude for outsinging vocalists as he did before on “Kpe Paso,” where he helmed the hook for Wande Coal. 

On the P.Prime-produced “Luvaluvah,” we are reminded of Ms Lauryn Hill’s 1998 classic “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You.”Olamide’s approach is closer to Dancehall toasting than R&B. For a mid-tempo percussion-heavy album, Olamidé opts for easy listening and indulgent love songs. Wizkid returns with a more inspired verse on “Billionaires Club,” an instructional take on luxury living. The tune could have been a peerless delight if it had aspired beyond lazy lyricism.

“Free” spotlights Muyeez. Olamide name-drops Fuji Legend Saheed Osupa, American Pharrell Williams and even controversial Nigerian politician, NyesomWike, on the song. It chugs at similes when metaphors would suffice. On the cautionary love song “Duro,” he leans deep into a Fuji lilt for a magical pre-chorus. “Special” could have been special if it did not sound too much like an outtake from an Adekunle Gold ‘Afropop Vol 1’ Session.

On “Indika,” West Coast G-Funk meets Palmwine Highlife funk via Fela’s Afrobeat. Dr Dre lays flawless bars whilst Olamide approaches this full circle moment with excessive enthusiasm. The song’s only flaw is its short length. “1 Shot’ sounds like a letter to a young hustler. It succeeds as a practical instructional, where “Billionaires Club” fails. 

The album’s standout moment is House-music inspired “99,” which features an ensemble cast yet manages not to spoil the tune with too many actors. The tender, Eskeez-produced “Rain” vaguely references Majek Fashek’s 90s classic record, “Holy Spirit,” and Olamide atones for misogynistic effacing Jamaican dancehall singer, Popcaan.

The cabaret-styled interlude “Paris,” featuring Nigerian rapper FADÍ singing in French, marks the album’s final run. With synth-laden and log-drum-indulgent production from Magicsticks, “Lalakipo” does not sound dated itself, but it accurately dates Olamide’s style. The final song is the Boj-assisted, BBanks-produced “Stronger,” where Olamide exults baddies, preaching agency, imploring them to shun toxic relationships and to get a BBL if they so desire. 

‘Olamidé’ is a long way from his mid-career misogyny, a testament to the possibilities of both refinement and redemption for Olamide. But at 17 tracks, this self-titled album is an indulgence. Stacking songs with formulaic framing of self-praise, luxury lifestyle, and brief reminisces on proletariat poverty, Olamide hardly brings any new insight to wax. There is simply nothing new to say, or more appropriately, there is nothing he has to say that his core fans have not already heard.

I suppose our beloved musicians can draw from our overdraft of goodwill. This is also an indulgence we afford them, one that emboldens Olamide and the Afrobeats Class of 2012. With more than a decade at the top of their game, they are the Baby Boomers of the Afrobeats pantheon. Their music won’t get better; we will be lucky if it does not sharply decline. The most likely outcome is that which follows the natural history of musicians: they will become touring ambassadors of their heydays. This album would add at least three songs to Olamide’s touring setlist, and that too is legacy in motion once you can overlook the errant diacritic.

Williams Chechet Is Breathing New Life Into Nigerian Visual Storytelling

Williams Chechet is a contemporary visual artist and one of the creatives breathing refreshing new life into the Nigerian art space. Known for his bold Afrofuturistic style, Chechet’s work merges traditional Nigerian iconography with pop culture and digital techniques. Through his work, he finds creative ways to celebrate Nigerian identity while reframing it through a modern, global lens.

Chechet’s latest collaboration with Glenfiddich, the globally renowned Scotch whisky brand, is titled “Celebrate the Bold. The limited-edition packaging project honours three notable Nigerian creatives: Mr Eazi, Nancy Isime, and Ifeanyi Nwune and came to life through a Lagos exhibition that showcased the artworks Chechet created for each collaborator, alongside select pieces from his broader catalogue.

In this interview, we speak to Chechet about the creative process behind “Celebrate the Bold, his commitment to amplifying northern Nigerian culture, and how commercial projects like this push him to discover new elements within his own practice. He also reflects on the legacy he hopes to leave and the evolving relationship between visual art, identity, and storytelling in Nigeria today.

How did you approach designing the limited-edition Glenfiddich sleeve? What elements were most important to you?

Before diving into the designs, I had in-depth conversations with Ifeanyi, Nancy, and Mr Eazi. Understanding their backgrounds—their childhoods, what drives their boldness and innovation, and the risks they’ve taken as creatives—was crucial. For example, Ifeanyi is a fashion designer inspired by traditional Nigerian textiles like aso oke and adire. He also has a unique personal history, including studying electrical engineering and an incident where he was electrocuted as a child.

The partnership with Glenfiddich was special because the brand gave me room to dig deep and treat each design as a narrative. It wasn’t about just making something visually appealing—it was about crafting pieces that felt authentic and intimately connected to each personality. That authenticity was what mattered most to me.

Speaking more broadly about your work, it often reimagines traditional Nigerian motifs. Can you talk about some of those motifs and why it’s important to you that they are prominent in your work?

I’m deeply connected to my roots. My art is a reflection of who I am—a proud Nigerian, a Black creative, someone shaped by a rich, multicultural upbringing. I was born in Kano and raised in Kaduna, which gave me exposure to northern and central Nigerian cultures. My work draws from that tapestry—language, textiles, architecture, attire, and oral traditions—and reinterprets it in a way that feels fresh and globally resonant.

By fusing traditional iconography with digital and pop cultural elements, I’m pushing Nigerian aesthetics into new spaces. It’s about showing that our heritage is not static—it’s alive, modern, and deserving of global recognition.

Could you go into more detail about how your northern heritage has influenced your work

Growing up in the North, I noticed a gap in how Northern Nigerian culture was represented in the art world, which is often dominated by southern and western references.The North wasn’t represented as much, and I took that as a personal challenge. So I started highlighting northern fashion—men in turbans,traditional turbans and babariga robes worn by men—as symbols of cultural pride—because I believe fashion is one of the strongest cultural storytellers.

How do you hope your collaboration with Glenfiddich will inspire emerging Nigerian artists?

I hope it gives them permission to be bold. To take creative risks. To believe that their stories and identities are worth telling—and worth celebrating. Glenfiddich’s “Celebrate the Bold” wasn’t just a slogan; it became a mindset throughout the process. The brand really empowered me to tap into something deeper than surface-level aesthetics, and that’s a powerful message for emerging creatives.

Taking risks is essential in any creative journey, and I want young artists to see this collaboration and realize that our culture, our uniqueness, and even our personal histories are rich enough to anchor global projects. It’s about being unapologetically Nigerian—and globally relevant at the same time.

Do you feel that your work and the work of other Nigerian artists in general should have an impact beyond the art community?

Absolutely. Art should educate, provoke thought, and spark conversation beyond galleries or collectors. Early in my career, I did a series using the naira note, and I was surprised to discover how many people didn’t know the names or stories behind the figures on our currency. At one of my exhibitions, I found myself giving mini history lessons on Nigerian heroes. That’s when it hit me—art has the power to fill cultural knowledge gaps and preserve stories that might otherwise be forgotten.

Speaking of your earlier work, do you feel like your priorities in terms of how you approach art have shifted in any specific ways since you first started out?

Definitely. Initially, my focus was on storytelling, but over time I discovered Afrofuturism—a movement that blends African heritage with futuristic themes. This fusion of Western and African art influences has reshaped my approach, allowing me to create work that is both inspiring and culturally resonant.

What message do you want audiences to take away from your Celebrate the Bold exhibition?

I want the audience to understand that boldness isn’t just about loudness or attention—it’s about authenticity. Being bold means embracing your story, your craft, your quirks, and your heritage. Owning your uniqueness is your superpower. That’s the message I hope audiences carry with them.

Do you feel like these types of collaborations bring out a different side to your work than your more independent projects?

Definitely. Collaborations challenge you to step outside of your comfort zone. Working with Glenfiddich pushed me to explore themes and visual languages I might not have considered on my own. While researching this project, for example, I discovered that Nigeria has an official national flower which appears on our Coat of Arms. I had never noticed it before. That detail sparked a new appreciation for national symbols and their potential in visual storytelling. So yes, these kinds of projects don’t just showcase your work—they expand it.

What legacy do you hope to leave through your art and collaborations?

I want to leave behind a legacy of impact—of cultural pride, of innovation, and of fearless storytelling. I want my work to live beyond me, to be a reference point for future generations of African artists who want to do things differently. Collaborations like this one with Glenfiddich remind me that our stories are not small. They’re powerful. They deserve to be seen, preserved, and celebrated on the global stage.

Best New Music: Indi Is Effortlessly Cool On “Over”

Since the turn of the year, the underground music scene has been experiencing a surge of vibrancy, marked by the emergence of a talented new generation of young musicians. Loose terms like New Age and Cyber Youth have been used to describe this new wave of artists, but what’s certain is their ingenuity and profound artistry. Some of the best music coming out of this new movement has come from Indi, a singer, songwriter, and producer who sounds like she’s aching and flirting at the same time. Her songs, most of which barely cross the 2-minute mark, blend Y2K aesthetics with the boldness of contemporary Hyperpop. Think Clara La San meets Charli XCX. 

Indi only started putting out music officially in mid-2024, but she’s fleshed out a clear sonic identity in such a short time that one might think she’s been at this for much longer. A Pop singer with light R&B contours, she employs a refreshing approach, somewhere between accessible and experimental, that stands in contrast to the overwhelming monotony of mainstream Pop music in Nigeria.

Tracks like “Atbu,” “Caution,” and “Promise” are built similarly: melancholic, upbeat, and made irresistible by her DIY charm. The singer’s latest single, “Over,” follows this same pattern, fusing cutting-edge club music to melodies and rhythms rooted in R&B and Pop. Her enticing melodies, a key feature of her sound, seamlessly swirl around a glitchy beat courtesy of frequent collaborator Awful Daniel and Three Cyk-Beta. 

Most of Indi’s lyrics are often delicate depictions of relatable emotions like desire and teenage angst. They can, however, be pretty repetitive and opaque. “All these lights but I still want you more,” she sings with a spike of anxiety on “Over,” slyly referencing a love interest. This lyrical anonymity is offset by the song’s silky Electronic pop production and Indi’s ethereal vocal passages, which give much of her music deep emotional resonance, much more than her lyrics do. 

“Over” is arguably the strongest addition to Indi’s growing discography yet. It’s sexy, cool and forward-thinking. It’s also quickly become her most streamed song yet, a testament to it’s irresistible charm. In a clime that mines nostalgia for the sake of it, Indi borrows from the past to create something refreshingly familiar and futuristic at the same time. This unique ability has placed her at the forefront of this new wave of eccentric artistes who are looking to make their mark on our ever-evolving music scene. 

Listen to “Overhere.

uNder: Best New Artists (June, 2025)

At a time when the future of music appears profoundly dystopian, with AI models producing gimmicky renditions of music, something is soothing about the current range of Black expression in music. Nowhere are the boundaries between genres and sonic identifiers being blurred with as much gusto as in African music. Singers are rappers, and rappers are dipping into indigenous music to broaden the scope of their sounds. While the threat of AI seems to be hurtling down after all forms of creative pursuit, we can rest assured that the ingenuity of African musicians means that they’ll always be one step ahead. That knack for exciting invention and experimentation is best exemplified by our rising class of talent, who continue to rewrite the rules of what our music can sound and feel like. 

With uNder, our flagship artist celebration column, we aim to celebrate and salute the mavericks who endlessly work to expand the scope of our understanding of music. Whether it’s music to rage to, cry to, dance to, or even sit in quiet wonder with, these acts continue to deliver and show up. On our June entry, we have Xowié, Mavo, Juma Mufasa, and Kalibwani, creators whose artistry expands across diverse forms and whose works continue to remind us at The NATIVE why we invest so much time in seeking out these gems.  

Xowié

For Fans of: Tems, SZA, and Asa. 

Rising South African singer, Xowié, has a lot to say about the modern dynamics of life, the necessities of love, and our shared human connection, and it shows in her music, which is achingly tender yet deeply layered with myriad references rooted in the daily mix of real life. Hailing from KwaZulu-Natal, Xowié’s music is shaped by a blend of several genres, taking inspiration from the R&B, Pop, and Reggae influences she grew up listening to. Raised in a deeply religious yet musically inclined family, she found her footing in music while being drawn to the glossy, ever-mutating sound of legends like Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill, and Gil Scott-Heron. The work of these stars also shaped her diaristic approach to writing about romance, body positivity, and self-confidence. 

Xowié got her start in music as a contestant on South Africa’s popular music reality show, Idols, where she showed her gift alongside a talented cohort of singers. She described that experience as “eye-opening” in an interview with Music Custodian. “I was around people who could run vocal scales effortlessly, who had already been writing songs and performing with such confidence,” she explained. “I, on the other hand, had never written a song before. I knew I could sing, but I had also been told I didn’t know how to mix my voice properly. That environment showed me what I needed to work on.” Moving on from Idols, Xowié first offered a glimpse of her talent on 2023’s “Rainy Days,” a cloudy R&B-Soul fusion that finds her affirming her devotion to a love interest even on the most challenging days. “On those rainy days, Imma be right by your side,” she dreamily sings atop a slowly jerking percussive instrumental.  Her interest in romantic dynamics continued on “Hold Me,” a 2024 Deep House collaboration with Fiction, in which she expressed her desire for genuine love without games. 

Her 2025 debut project, ‘A Little Long Overdue (A.L.L.O),’ shows a more evolved version of the singer, presenting her as a human dealing with the pressures of finding her way in a world that’s not always attuned to her desires or pace. ‘A.L.L.O’ opens with “Home,” a pleading call for the familiar comforts of home as an antithesis to the strangeness and rowdy standoffishness of the world Xowié lives in. There’s a sense of assuredness that comes from sitting with people with whom you have shared history, and it’s that quest for cutting loose and laughing with loved ones that serves as the subtext for “Home.” In many ways, ‘A.L.L.O’  chronicles the shifts in Xowié’s life as she works towards her dreams. She’s intuitively aware of this, referencing that “a change is gonna come” on the bluesy “Change.”

Even her reflections on romance capture a transformation of her worldview. “Nobody’s Fool” is as close to a fuck you to a lover that’s playing with her. Operating by her convictions, Xowié clearly will not suffer this fool lightly, singing: “I get so lonely / Still don’t wanna fuck with you.” On the song, she’s also owning up to desire, singing openly about having sex with her floundering romantic interest. “You take me for a fool cause I let you hit it twice in one night,” she starts before sardonically adding, “It wasn’t even nice.” The centerpiece of ‘A.L.L.O’ is “Bittersweet,” a stirring collab with Kenyan singer, Bensoul, that contends with the messy theatre of loving someone that’s not always in tune with those feelings. 

 

Mavo

 

For fans of: Shallipopi, ZerryDL & Kashcoming

If you’re active on Nigerian TikTok, then it’s safe to assume you’ve heard Mavo’s latest single “Escladizzy.” The song’s sticky chorus was practically inescapable on the app before its official release, building significant momentum behind what has quickly become the 21-year-old’s biggest song yet. The single, which features Wave$tar, recently debuted on the UK Afrobeats chart after amassing over a million streams in less than two weeks of its release. It’s also helped him earn cosigns from different prominent names like BNXN, Joeboy, and Zerry DL. While the song’s hypnotic Amapiano-inspired beat is undoubtedly catchy, the song’s major appeal lies in Mavo’s lyrical eccentricism, a very unique and distinctive quality that’s quickly setting the Edo native apart as one of the most promising young singers around. 

Mavo tries to rewrite the rules with his music. While he mainly operates in the Afropop realm sonically, it’s in his sometimes staggered flows and lyrical composition that he brings something fresh to the table. 2023’s “Ukanigbe,” his official debut single and the follow-up project, also titled ‘Ukanigbe,’ introduced his recognizable sound and a creative vocabulary that mixes slangs, made-up words, and eccentric ad-libs to really good effect. In his world, there’s a constant insistence that there’s “no more way for poor people” (for whatever reason), two Moët translates to “Tumo Weto,” while indecipherable words like “fadonomogba,” “obromokpopo,” and “somonoyopkpon” make perfect sense. 

On his sophomore project, ‘SANKO,’ which came about a year after his debut, he christened himself Kilogbede (a persona he created), sounding a lot more assured than he did on his debut. Standout cuts like “Expensive Shit,” “Kilobizzy,” and “Feel Nice,” – which appeared on the deluxe version of ‘SANKO’ – helped raise the singer’s stock, taking him from relative obscurity to one of the more prominent names in the underground scene. He also began to garner a loyal following at this point, as his clever use of social media helped him attract a swath of chronically online zoomers who bought into his music and idiosyncratic lexicon. By the time his latest project, ‘Kilometer,’ arrived, his reach had begun to extend beyond his contemporaries. Cuts like “No More” were already beginning to transcend the underground circuit, but it’s “Escladizzy” that has proven to be his breakthrough record, setting the stage for what is about to be very exciting times for the talented young singer. 

 

Juma Mafasa

For Fans of: Juls, Kwesi Arthur & Ser∅tonin

Juma Mufasa is a smooth operator. His music, an effortless mix of Afropop-inflected R&B and Hip-Hop, usually flows at a slow to mid-tempo pace, mostly making for really sleek and serene tunes. If there’s one song that perfectly encapsulates his sound and vibe, it’s probably 2023’s “Maame Water,” a Produ B-produced record that sets the Ghanian singer’s musings about a love interest to a lush beat. While a significant portion of his discography adheres to this soothing sonic format, his songs often carry a weight and depth that belies their seemingly gentle delivery.

His 2021 debut, ‘Children Of The Sun,’ served as a solid introduction to his unique style as well as a profound submission of a young artist striving to establish himself as one to be reckoned with. Songs like the striking opener “Sometimes” and “MMM” both echo the same sentiment, offering an intimate glimpse into the life of a young, talented Ghanaian navigating the unforgiving and relentless pursuit of greener pastures. His words are incredibly salient and relatable, laying bare his humble beginnings and aspirations as he gently sings “I’m from a place you no for enter, a place where you for better get up and get am.”

About a year after the release of ‘Children Of The Sun,’ Mufasa updated his debut with 5 new songs on a deluxe edition that kept in line with the original’s essence. Of the new additions, “Children with Adult Problems” was the clear standout, a collaboration with fellow Ghanian singer-songwriter Marince Omario. Like the title suggests, the song finds both artists chronicling their shared realities of life in Accra over calming choral vocals. In 2023, Mufasa released a joint tape  with KwesiSoul titled “CITY ON FIRE.” Next to the rising melodic rapper, Juma Mufasa was able to flex his rapping chops, laying multiple sturdy verses over mostly Hip-Hop inspired production. 

Since “CITY ON FIRE,” the Ghanaian singer has continued to dish out more dulcet tunes that chart the evolution of his sound as well as his road to success. 2024’s ‘The Sandwich Tape’ a 3-pack with Yartii, came with a more polished touch, producing some of his finest cuts yet while his newer singles like “Iris” and “My Village People,” which incorporates Highlife influences, shows he’s expanding the scope of his sound while retaining the sharp lyrical potency that makes his music deeply resonant. 

 

Kalibwani

For Fans of: Common, Jesse Jagz, and M.anifest

Part of the appeal of uNder has always been how it introduces us to artists operating in seemingly unconventional fashion. Ugandan writer, strategist, publisher,  and producer, Kalibwani, is one of those freeflowing acts who continue to operate across creative endeavours. Starting out as a producer, Kalibwani first turned heads with his work on  Josh Forehead’s 2021 trap-influenced hit “UGX,” signalling his frontline role as part of the sonic revolution ongoing in East Africa. Kalibwani stepped out as an artist with a scene-stealing feature on Kenyan singer, Maya Amolo’s, 2022 single, “Foundry,” where he rapped about being posted up with his homies and being there for his lover in any circumstance. 

It took another year for Kalibwani to pop out on a track, joining the a selection of artists on “SHE WAAN,” a posse cut about treating a lover to the best things. Like his verse on “Foundry,” Kalibwani’s is similarly slippery on “SHE WAAN,” infusing his melancholic harmonies into the song while rhythmically staying on topic. The clearest indictor of his artistic direction arrived on 2024’s “Not Safe In The West,” a genre-meshing fusion of Dancehall and Hip-Hop that derides the struggles of existing as an African in the Western world. Produced by Kalibwani, “Not Safe In The West” has the same distinctive percsussive genius that made UGX” a standout. Most importantly, it’s a clear-eyed rebuke of the dangers that continue to face black people in Western-populated spaces–a clear sign of Kalibwani’s poweful sense of perception. With only a small catalogue till now, Kalibwani keeps showing signs of being on the precipice of a breakthrough while still experimenting across creative forms. 

Ayo Maff Details His Rise To Fame On ‘Prince Of The Street’

Ayo Maff’s highly anticipated debut album ‘Prince Of The Street’ is finally here. The album arrives a little over a year after the Lagos-born singer found mainstream success thanks to the Fireboy DML-assisted “Dealer.” The single helped put him on the map before he wasted little time familiarising the masses with his infectious brand of Street-pop. ‘MAFFIAN,’ his 7-track EP that came shortly after “Dealer,” produced other popular cuts like “Are You There” and “Last Week,” making his emotive baritone practically inescapable in 2024. 

While his impressive breakout year culminated in three nominations at the 17th Headies Awards: Next Rated, Best Street-Hop Artiste, and Headies Viewer’s Choice, Ayo Maff shows no signs of putting his foot off the gas. Like the title suggests, his debut LP finds him staking his claim as one of Street-pop’s current flagbearers, as he continues to sing endearing tunes that mostly convey the strains of his humble beginnings, a reality that many young Nigerians can relate to.

In a recent Apple Music interview with Nandi Madiba, the singer explains how Bariga, his birthplace,  influences a lot of his music. “Growing up in Bariga helped me – and I would even say it’s influenced my music in lots of ways. It allowed me to sing the reality, where I’m from, and the genuine lifestyle,” he says candidly. “I can’t be singing like I’m 30 when I’m still in my young age, so I don’t sing about things I don’t know. All the things I do sing about, people are also facing, so it’s all a reality check.”

‘Prince Of The Street’ includes features from artists like BNXN, Seyi Vibez and South African duo Jazzworx & Thukuthela while producers like SPACEBOY Mercury, Decs, Larrylanes, Young Daddy and Magicsticks and a few others are credited across the album’s 13 tracks. 

Listen to ‘Prince Of The Street’ here.

The Gospel Of Afropop: When God Shows Up In Popular Music

It’s popular for musicians to credit the church as their foundation, but it’s not cliche. There’s a deep-rooted reason for it: It happens for the same reason that there’s a “To God Be the Glory” tag at the end of Nollywood films. It’s the same reason many Nigerian corporate institutions begin their business days with praise, worship, and prayers before getting into daily operations. These things happen because of a nationwide commitment to religion and an acknowledgement of the divine, which forms the bedrock of many Nigerians’ lives. Because music reflects reality, that innate urge to run towards the gospel shows up regularly in popular music. Subtly or directly, Nigerian musicians recognise a supreme being above them, say prayers, count their blessings, and acknowledge their mortality and life’s vanity.

Gospel music and secular music have never been far off from each other in Nigeria. Throughout Nigerian history, secular artists have tried to keep their faith and connection to God in their music.  The deepening of that connection in Nigeria can be traced to the country’s turbulent history in the late 1970s and 1980s, as it experienced seismic shifts in its political and socio-cultural framework. The ouster of President Shehu Shagari following the 1983 coup d’etat came with a curfew on nightlife and censorship on the media. The tumbling price of crude oil also left the country in a recession. In effect, church attendance grew because people could only envisage being saved by the divine. With Nigerians having an affinity for music, many people who came into the church were there for the hopeful music; eventually being drawn to the choir, and access to musical instruments. 

Far from the old hymnals and revival songs of the 1960s, Gospel music at that time had a new trajectory driven by the influence of the American Pentecostal movement as well as the Country, Folk, and Gospel music of  Jim Reeves and Johnny Cash. The music emphasised energetic contemporary music and helped birth a new era of Gospel musicians. Across Nigeria, local Scripture Union members formed bands that embodied the “praise and worship” format.  

The spread of this format sparked a wider movement, with other Pentecostal groups embracing similar styles and nurturing a generation of ministers who made gospel music such as Lazarus Brothers, The Good Women of the Christ Apostolic Church, Evangelist Bola Are, and Panam Percy Paul. Gospel music enjoyed more visibility as the ban and slow disappearance of nightlife caused the winddown of Juju, which significantly infused church hymns into its structure from the mid-80s.  

Even the late Fatai Rolling Dollars played drums for money in churches when he lost his musical instruments to fire during the military raid at Fela Kuti’s Kalakuta Republic in 1977. The spread of the Pentecostal movement demanded more Gospel bands, creating more opportunities for musicians. Gospel music concerts, powered by established churches and ministry bodies, became a regular occurrence, providing an avenue for musicians to earn an income.

As Nigeria transitioned out of military rule in 1999, a new wave of musical inspiration began to come to the fore. With American pop culture gaining more influence through radio and TV, young Nigerian talents, many of whom got their start in church choirs, began looking outward. Pop music, with its glamour and global appeal, quickly became the new frontier. It offered not just self-expression but the promise of fame and money. For many, the church was where they learned the basics: how to sing, play instruments, and harmonise. But the mainstream was where they now wanted to shine. 

Aspiring musicians picked up production software and experimented with beats while others put their vocals to use either as singers or rappers. The focus had shifted: Gospel music had nurtured them, but secular music was calling. Conversely, there was a new shift in Nigerian Gospel at that time. The renaissance came courtesy of acts like Sam Okposo, Good Women Choir, Broda Martyns, and Kunle Ajayi, who filtered their Gospel messages through a Pop-adjacent style. Afro-Gospel rose to fame around 2011, thanks to the work of pioneering acts like Mike Abdul, Gaise Baba, DaBoomsha, and Limoblaze, who created Afropop-leaning music that glorified God. 

As Afropop started to blossom in the early 2000s, Gospel and its redemptive powers continued to be a force to reckon with. Secular albums from that era typically included at least one track reflecting on faith, spirituality, or themes linked to the gospel. From 2Face Idibia’s “Thank U Lord” off 2004’s ‘Face 2 Face’ to Faze’s “Thank You” off ‘Faze Alone’ released in the same year to Timaya’s “Ogologomma” released as part of ‘True Story’ in 2007, examples of Gospel working its way into Afropop abound. M.I Abaga’s formative years as a pastor’s kid may not matter much now, but his first album ‘Talk About It’  housed “Jehovah”, a Hip-Hop-influenced interpretation of the popular shepherd’s psalm. 

Perhaps, certain secular artists only remember their faith and God due to years of religious indoctrination, but it doesn’t diminish the earnestness of their surrender to the divine. “So Ope” and “Jehovah” on Wande Coal’s debut album, ‘Mushin2Mo’Hits,’ acknowledge that divine grace found him — an appropriate way to describe a celebrity lifestyle after escape from Mushin’s rough life and decadence. It’s even more humbling to most that they made it out with their singing abilities, which they mostly honed in the church.

The 2010s was a tough decade for Gospel in Afropop.  As the genre began to court global attention, the music and its movement became larger than life, demanding new subject matter for inspiration. A new generation of Afropop stars emerged, and gospel-inspired tracks were almost a relic. We only got occasional reminders of it from select members of that new generation. From Wizkid’s “Oluwa Loni” off 2011’s ‘Superstar’ to Olamide’s “Lift Him High” off ‘Rapsodi’ released in the same year, as well as Davido’s “Bless Me” off 2012’s ‘Omo Baba Olowo: The Genesis’ to Burna Boy’s “Jah’s Love Is True” released as part of ‘L.I.F.E.’ in 2013, they respected the tradition but didn’t carry it past their debut albums. 

When Wizkid’s “Ojuelegba” took off in 2015, worship and religion in Afropop had already morphed from special tracks and standalones on albums to the genre mixing with the secular on the same track. On the song, Wizkid sings about Ojuelegba, a middle-class area in Lagos that first witnessed his musical talent, and mused philosophically about life. Still, he also encourages praying when facing uncertainties (“Call on daddy, Baba God / Adura a gba o”)–it was a startling reminder of how deeply the gospel is woven into the fabric of Afropop. 

It would take another recession for Gospel to return in force. Around 2016, the Nigerian economy hit a recession due to industrial and infrastructural problems that were exacerbated by a global slump in oil prices. Citizens across Nigeria became poorer, and there was a palpable sense of despair everywhere you turned. As expected in a deeply religious yet imperfect nation, cries to the divine went up. Victor AD’s 2018 hit single, “Wetin We Gain,” is built around soliciting the help of a divine power to assuage his family’s overwhelming needs. That same year, Chinko Ekun bagged a hit with “Able God”, a playful request for showers of blessings in the form of credit alerts. In 2019, veteran Jaywon, too, scored a hit on his remix of “Aje,” teaming up with Barry Jhay and Lyta on a song that voiced their yearning for financial freedom against the backdrop of a crippling economic crisis. 

In recent years, sounds from the streets have greatly impacted Afropop, marking another micro-evolution in the genre’s journey. The emergence of street voices has seen the infusion of religion, worship, and prayers deeper into the DNA of the genre. Traditionally, Street-Pop has always leaned on aspirations, hustle culture, and melancholy. The one element that consistently tied all of it together is a belief in divine providence. Some listeners have linked the inception of Street-Pop’s gospel arc to Olamide’s “Jale,” which interpolates the 2004 song “Omije Ojumi” (meaning “Tears of My Eyes”) by ECWA Yoruba Choir Mushin. Others say it’s QDot’s  2013 hit “Alomo Meta,” also dubbed “Orin Emi” – meaning “Song of the Spirit” and commonly associated with the Celestial Church Movement in Nigeria. On the song, QDot employs the signature drum pattern of the Celestial Church and contorts some of their popular songs and melodies into a catchy worldly version that caters to the streetwise sensibilities of his primary audience.

From Barry Jhay to Mohbad, Bella Shmurda, T.I. Blaze, and Seyi Vibez, Street-Pop’s storytelling still thrives on the same tenets. It expounds on trench life, spiritual battles, beliefs in higher powers, their mothers’ fervent prayers, and surviving hard times. Even while admitting that they usually turn to sinning when winning isn’t forthcoming, they still give God all the glory or ask for divine support. The kids may leave the church, but you can’t take the church out of them, especially when they are anchored by their mothers’ prayers.

A common theme that runs through Asake’s unprecedented Afropop takeover is a clear sonic identity built on Gospel-style vocals and a stacked, choir-like back-up. It explains why some of his songs may feel like Sunday morning Thanksgiving meets midnight club turn-up. Over a groovy beat on “Baba God,” Asake dispels naysayers, confident that he’s backed by a supreme being who won’t let him fail.  On “Nzaza,” there’s urgency to his supplication and panache to his attitude as he requests a complimentary and exhilarating breakthrough that makes the world stop for him. In colloquial terms, what Asake did on “Nzaza” is known as “acting like your miracle.” His trajectory suggests that his faith worked with his prayers–he is Afropop’s greatest breakout story. 

It’s no wonder the core of Street-Pop can be traced back to the first generation of Nigerians who accepted the Pentecostal gospel. They infused their traditional understanding of faith into Christian music in the 1930s.  That unbroken lineage of continuity between faith and popular music shows up in Teni Makanaki’s “Malaika,” which is directly inspired by “Eli Eli Jah,” a popular hymn of the Cherubim and Seraphim Church. In the song, Teni is in the spirit of worship and asks for an angel to descend on her or come into her space. Rapper OluwaMillar’s “Opelope Anointing” samples and interpolates Evangelist Dunni Olanrewaju’s 2000 song of the same title in a time-honed tradition of using gospel themes to acknowledge divine intervention. 

Sampling and interpolation of Gospel songs in Afropop isn’t new. They reclaim the cultural blend of African traditional music and Christian worship while affirming the artists’ roots, community, history, and spiritual identity. Also, sometimes it’s not just sounds, it’s the language. Asake’s “Peace Be Unto You” borrows heavily from church lingo. Adekunle Gold’s “Ire” is a modern hymn that could close a church service. The link between modern sounds and older, respected forms of expression grounds contemporary Pop in shared heritage. Afropop is far from sanctimonious, but it stays tethered to the gospel. It carries the spiritual essence of African music traditions, and since Gospel music in Africa often blends traditional hymns with Christian messages, Afropop naturally carries the traces of this fusion. The line between the sacred and the secular is fluid in African music, and Afropop truly reflects that. 

Runtown Finds Balance On ‘Soundgod Fest Vol IV’

Since he rose to fame with 2014’s “Gallardo,” Runtown has established himself as one of the most impactful acts of his generation. His 2016 classic, “Mad Over You,” is referenced as a high watermark in the genre, and Runtown has steadily imprinted his vision for Afropop through his ‘Soundgod Fest’  collection, a trove of albums, extended plays, and mixtapes that have marked all the eras of the Enugu-born musician’s journey in the music industry. 

Three years ago, Runtown released ‘Signs,’ a quickfire follow-up to the highly collaborative ‘SoundGod Fest Reloaded.’ In the time since then, Runtown has retreated from public view, releasing only a handful of tracks and guesting on collaborations that offered hints of a clarity that has come with age and diverse experiences. 

‘Soundgod Fest Vol IV,the fourth installment of the ‘Soundgod Fest’ series, arrives following a slight delay that prevented its release over a month ago.  Across the six-track EP, Runtown sounds grounded, merging emotional intelligence with characteristic genre-defiant finesse. The EP examines themes of love, ego, emotional duality, and nostalgia with Runtown’s dreamy lull guiding the journey. 

The project opens with “Mood Swings,” a lush, emotionally aware cut that sees Runtown embracing the beautiful unpredictability of a partner’s ever-shifting energy. It’s a song that doesn’t demand clarity but dances with chaos—a reminder that love, in its truest form, is layered and nonlinear. There is a romantic dedication to a love interest on the balmy “Bebe,” as the singer describes the effect she has on him. “I pledge my allegiance to you my baby,” he affirmed. 

Some of the most downright inescapable Runtown songs have come as a result of his granular description of love’s effects on him. From “For Life” to “Do Me,” he’s mastered the art of layering those specific anecdotes that run through the intersection of longing and adoration. It’s a trick he repeats on “Dangerous Hearts,” a collab with UK singer-producer Mr. Hudson. Sampling Sade’s timeless “The Sweetest Taboo,” the record is reimagined in pristine fashion while maintaining the nimble mastery of iemotion that always made him a thrilling listen. 

Listen to ‘Soundgod Fest Vol IVhere

Darkoo’s ‘$exy Girl $ummer (Vol 1)’ Is A Nostalgia-Driven Homage To Women  

Darkoo has released a new project titled ‘$exy Girl $ummer (Vol 1).’ The 8-tracker comes off the back of an impressive spell that stretches back to May 2024 when she released her summer smash hit “Favourite Girl” with American rapper Dess Dior. The song’s smooth fusion of Afropop and Dancehall, coupled with a clever sample of Lenky’s iconic ‘Diwali Riddim,’ made it instantly irresistible. Rema’s splendid verse on the remix, which came a few months after the original, ensured the song remained in rotation until the end of the year. 

The success of “Favourite Girl” meant that Darkoo had found a new winning formula: giving recognisable classics a lush and sexy makeover. After teaming up with Davido and Jamaican producer Rvssian for “Right Now” a sensual number that was released late last year, she kicked off 2025 with “Focus On Me (All The Sexy Girls In The Club),” another rhythmic single that provided P-Square’s classic “Gimmie Dat” with a sultry update. 

Even though “Like Dat,” the follow-up to “Focus On Me (All The Sexy Girls In The Club),” does not feature any recognisable sample, it’s clearly inspired by the same noughties music that Darkoo has been sampling of late. On ‘$exy Girl $ummer (Vol.1),’ she continues to utilise this winning formula, exploring her unique sound and signature style that has become almost instantly recognisable. Another component of Darkoo’s new sound is the unmissable zest for centering women’s pleasure and desire that runs through these songs.

While the new project features her previously released singles — “Favourite Girl,” “Right Now,” “Focus On Me (All The Sexy Girls In The Club),” and “Like Dat” — new additions like “Stay,” “Options,” and “Your Number,” which samples 9ice’s “Gongo Aso,” are all also steeped in the nostalgia and rich tapestry of classic Afropop and R&B, with Darkoo giving them a contemporary twist. 

Listen to ‘$exy Girl $ummer (Vol.1),’ here

Notes On Benue: My Country Has An Alternative Stock Exchange that Counts Dead Bodies

Carl Terver Reflects On Benue, the Yelewata Killings, and the Politics Of Naming In An Earnest Op-Ed. 


     1.

These days, I hardly remember I am a poet. Only in momentary phases do I recall I am one. My thoughts constantly betray me, taking the form of essays. These phases, when I recall I am a poet, come because of the emotions of love or of war. When I speak of war, there are the wars every man faces within himself. And then there is the war Nigeria brings to your doorstep: the kind that inspires sad, grief-laden poems or such that, through the numbness of it, makes you find ways to understand what is going on in your country. It is this second war that inspired me to write, in 2019, in a poem titled “This Blood,” that “My country has an alternative Stock Exchange / that counts dead bodies, / the more the bodies / the shares bought, / that raised Patience’s Cry: / This blood we are sharing! It was a response, months later, to the killings of 73 persons in Benue on the New Year’s Eve of 2018, whose victims were interred in a state-organised mass burial that came to be known as Black Thursday. 

    2.

In 2015, I wrote my first short story, which, after several re-titling (and editing), would become “Once Upon A Time in Jato-Aka,” now published in The Stockholm Review of Literature. It was inspired by a beautiful experience of my visit that year to Jato-Aka, a town in Kwande LGA, Benue, which borders Cameroon in the Mandara Mountain range. Jato-Aka is a small, sleepy agrarian town, and the road that leads into it suddenly stops in the town square. 

With an artistic eye, I imagined the arrival of something extraordinary to spice up the people’s lives, or the town itself, and the idea of a retired general came to mind. I drafted this into the story and painted the picture of what such slow, border towns looked like, having once lived the life of a farm boy in the countryside myself, depicting the sedentary, the communal, the calm, and the peacefulness. Then I ended the story with a cliffhanger that even I didn’t know was an apt example of the artistic unconscious at work: “Then one day, it happened again, the pestilence of locusts that struck every year, unexpectedly. In the time the old General was back, it had not happened. The Fulanis came.”

3.

For years, I was disturbed by this ending. It felt incomplete. It felt prejudiced. It felt phobic and eager to misrepresent and profile the entire Fulani ethnic group as a plague, as aggressors, when I was supposed to believe in the pluralistic multi-ethnicity of the so-called Nigerian project. Not only that, I judged that being Nigerian means living among other ethnicities and respecting them. But I was also aware of the fact that I have friends; I know and have met a good number who are as human as I am, with the daily worries of life, as feeding their children, paying school fees, and affording transportation. 

I struggled with whatever justification I could contrive to make the story work, to make it not look like, “Oh, here is a Tiv writer who has written to paint the Fulanis bad.” Eventually, I let go, refusing to be held back by what, in retrospect, I feel was simply too much correctness in the face of confronting a real problem that was not simply a short story. And I used a character in it to ask a question which remains baffling: “Why should one man have more right to kill another?” In an earlier version of the story, the question was, “Why should a group of Nigerians have more right to kill other Nigerians?” 

4.

The question now, away from fiction, but to the crisis of what is now becoming the daily barbaric killings of Nigerians—not just in Benue, but in Plateau, Kaduna, Nasarawa, Zamfara, Borno, and wherever pleases the homicidal urges of these terrorists—is what are these killings for? But it is another question rendered meaningless by the indifferent climate that has become Nigeria for more than a decade now. Because the government has refused to fight insecurity, creating a loophole for further insecurity, which now appears glaringly to us (not that we never suspected it) to be a deliberate ploy to cause confusion and artificial helplessness. To solve a security crisis of this nature, the state has to identify it, classify it for what it is, before setting the right apparatus to combat it. This has not been done, and in the years these killings have continued, it has been misidentified as herdsmen-farmers clashes. News outlets, without on-the-ground investigations, have peddled this narrative whenever there’s another case of killings where, often, the victims are unarmed Nigerians, sometimes killed in their beds. 

The mistake so far, I believe, was the Benue state government’s tolerance in not naming the problem until past governor Samuel Ortom’s accusations of a Fulani expansionist threat in the state, which led him in 2017 to enact an anti-open grazing legislation known as the Open Grazing Prohibition and Ranches Establishment Law. But to some of us, even if this addressed the problem at some scale, it was merely reactionary; a band-aid to what we think is a larger conundrum. It was like sending rice—the typical Nigerian politician’s answer to a crisis. 

The attacks never stopped. Not only so, they began to assume a recognisable M.O. of displacing and occupying, as people flee and abandon their indigenous homes. Even more, there appears to be a desire to instill terror and intent to harm: on 8 April 2023, as the country waited to inaugurate Bola Tinubu as president, after what seemed to have been a sham election, Channels TV reported: “Many feared killed as suspected herdsmen attack Benue IDPs.” 

These were people who had fled homes where their farms were. What was such an attack for? What farmlands of these displaced persons were the attackers after? Or in recent Yelwata, on 14 June 2025, where a hecatomb of deaths was orchestrated in a very cold and methodical execution? The police station had been attacked first, to cripple any armed resistance, the villagers report, before a door-to-door, family-by-family execution began, going on for three unholy hours, in a community less than an hour’s drive from the state capital, Makurdi; with another attack orchestrated a few hours apart at the other exit of the capital, in Mbaivur, near the Air Force Base in Makurdi. 

Sending the herdsmen away, which Benue citizens have cried for in the past, it seems, doesn’t end the problem. And if there have been fears this is beyond conflicts about grazing, these scenarios only intensify, if not to confirm them. 

5.

The first time I drank kindirmo, fresh cow milk hawked in colourful calabashes by Fulani women, was in my secondary school, perhaps in 2003 or 2004. I remember it was after closing, and the sun was high. My female classmate who made me try it said the women had tied ice blocks in a nylon and placed them in the calabash to chill the milk. Thirst had driven me, rather than curiosity. But it tasted wonderful, so that after that day I always looked forward to it whenever I had small change to spare. 

This was deep in Ukum LGA. On the way to the farm with my grandma, or returning, we’d sometimes meet Fulanis on the road walking together in a group, men (who looked more like boys, too young), women, and children. They were nomadic Fulanis, who often, to us, appeared to come out of nowhere as they lived in very interior settlements, and sometimes went to the local markets to buy goods and trade. 

I do not recall any bad blood existing between them and us, or maybe I was too innocent to notice. They simply existed as a curious exotic to us: their slim men carrying staffs and looking like women, sometimes wearing make-up. Unimaginably, there was such understanding that they would often have an agreement with farmers to bring their cattle after a harvest to graze the pasture from stalks of maize and other harvested plants. 

I am not being romantic about such a past, nor do I wish to patronise anyone. Because once in a while, we heard of cattle destroying farms. But I can tell you that Nigeria was once like this. That Benue was once like this. There was no need for fighting because the herder Fulanis were under the protection of the communities they lived in, and mutual understanding was established. So what happened? Why did herdsmen start using machetes on people? And when did guns come? Why are so-called herdsmen, who do not have cattle—because you need a herd of livestock to be a herdsman—but instead ride on motorcycles, invading and attacking villages with assault rifles? 

It is not just Benue under attack by such barbarians, but Nigeria. It is not just about usurping authority anywhere they can, stoking tensions, or causing confusion and political instability. It is the fact that children are burned alive by criminals who will never meet justice, or worse, who know no one is going after them, and that they will emerge again to continue their terror. And that we are caught in a trap where the Nigerian government, with the strongest military force in West Africa, pretends to be helpless. 

6.

What we are dealing with, not only in Benue, but nationwide, is a successful plan of confusion sown by a group with their plans. Surely, these killers take orders from someone. Possessing arms is strictly regulated in Nigeria, but these killers have no problem accessing not mere guns but assault rifles. In Yelwata, the killings were executed like an operation. Two days after this attack, a list of the families killed was published in Daily Post (courtesy of a Franc Utoo, a lawyer and native of Yelewata “who lost over 33 members of his extended family”). There were the Adam family, Ajah family, Akpen family, Amaki family, Anya family, Aondona family, Aondovihi family, Asom family, and so on, numbering up to 47 families, like a roster. What is to say that one day it won’t become more targeted, as genocidal killings are often planned to take out specific persons? 

Finally, perhaps, the misinformation about this simply being herdsmen attacks or internal clashes, as the news ignorantly reports, is now evident. And this was why the Tor Tiv, Professor James Ayatse, the number one Tiv citizen and perhaps an authority on Tiv matters, at the president’s visit to Benue state on June 18, unequivocally stated, that: 

We do have grave concerns about the misinformation and misrepresentation of the security crisis in Benue State. It’s not herders-farmers clashes. It’s not communal clashes. It’s not reprisal attacks or skirmishes. It is this misinformation that has led to suggestions such as ‘remain tolerant, negotiate for peace, learn to live with your neighbours’. What we are dealing with in Benue is a calculated, well-planned, full-scale genocidal invasion and land-grabbing campaign by herder terrorists and bandits, which has been going on for decades and is worsening every year. Wrong diagnosis will always lead to wrong treatment. So, we are dealing with something far more sinister than we think about. It’s not learning to live with your neighbours; it is dealing with war.”

For many who do not know, historically, this is not the first time foreigners (whom the Tivs call “Uke”) have attempted to suppress the Tiv people, such that there’s even a song about this. The “Myam ciem er uke hide” song, translated as “I had a nightmare that the foreigner has returned.” Centuries later, the song remains true. The history of the Benue Valley during the 1700s through the 1800s is mired in conflicts over land among the different groups that had migrated and come to settle in the region. But the Tiv ancestors fought with their lives to defend the home they’d made for themselves in this valley. 

It was because of this consciousness to defend themselves that subjugation by the British colonial forces in the early 1900s didn’t happen so easily for the latter. It is on record that the Tivs were the last ethnic nation in colonial Nigeria to be penetrated by the British, who afterwards ignorantly tried to govern them indirectly through proxies under their colonial government—a situation that was exploited by the Caliphate in northern Nigeria at the time to exert dominance southwards. 

It is a known history that has been amply written about, with one of the more insightful works being Moses E. Ochonu’s ‘Colonialism by Proxy: Hausa Imperial Agents and Middle Belt Consciousness in Nigeria.’ There were pushbacks and unrelenting resistance, of course, by the Tiv nation. It is the history of this conflict that eventually led to the creation of Benue State. I am not a historian; I have only brought this up because history is all too familiar whenever it rears its head again. Many theories, histories, or causes of the terrorism going on in Benue will be spread. And sadly, the truth is we can’t say what it is; we are not security experts and have no concrete intel, so we talk about what we see: that we are being attacked by terrorists who come for our heads, and our land. And whoever they are, they are enemies of Nigeria. 

When the musician 2Baba Idibia made a video responding to the Yelwata killings, his words were “I don’t even know what to say.” Truly, there aren’t any words for such madness other than Yelwata was indeed one of the darkest days for many of us. But for how long must this go on? 

Best New Music: Amaarae Rings In A New Era On “S.M.O.”

If you look past the tonal alterations and futuristic production choices that litter Amaarae’s work, a career-long embrace of fervid desire emerges from her work. From the whimsical, soulful ballads of ‘Passionfruit Summer’ to the playful, sirenic calls-to-action of ‘The Angel You Don’t Know,’ and the riotous, Punk-influenced extravaganza of ‘Fountain Baby’ as well as its sprawling addendum, ‘rose are red, tears are blue – A Fountain Baby Extended Play,’ Ama Genfi has crafted a catalogue that basks in her indulgent embrace of desire – sexual, material, and emotional – while cavorting with a multitude of sonic influences. Songs like “FEEL A WAY,” “Angels in Tibet,” and “sweeeet” all contend with the nature of sexual desire in the humorous yet layered fashion that could only emerge from the hallways of Amaarae’s mind. 

In recent months, Amaarae has been teasing her next album, an eagerly anticipated follow-up to ‘Fountain Baby.’ The rollout for the album, now confirmed as ‘Black Star,’ has seen her lean more into her Ghanaian heritage than ever.  During her performance at Coachella in April, where she made history as the festival’s first solo Ghanaian performer, she paid homage to Ghana’s musical history by playing songs by La Même Gang, Asakaa Boys, and Joey B. She also hosted a block party for the ‘Black Star’ album in Accra, hinting at an evolution of her relationship with her home country. 

In the lead-up to the release of ‘Black Star,’ Amaarae has shared its striking cover art as well as a new song, “S.M.O.” that espouses on her gospel of desire. Shortened for ‘Slut me out,’ the lead single of ‘Black Star’ opens with brooding drums and a thumping bassline that sets the stage for Amaarae’s requests from a love interest. As always, she is forthright and clear with her demands, with lines like “Slut me out / Show me how you like to love” and “I lay it all on the waist line/ Ginga me, ginga” instantly standing out. 

One of the most interesting parts of listening to Amaarae’s music since the lead-up to ‘The Angel You Don’t Know’ has been resolving the internal dissonance between her silky, enthralling vocals and the salacious details on her tracks. “S.M.O.” is similarly risqué while maintaining the alluring tenor of her voice. Unlike many singers who raise a temple dedicated to desire, Amaarae’s music contemplates all angles of her requests and what they mean, lending a layer of authenticity to her songs. On “S.M.O.,” it manifests in the shape of a love interest that she has to make comfortable. “You don’t like talking salacious / I understand / Sex is a part of your nature,” she sings. 

More significantly, Amaarea seems to continue to sing about her desire for women, taking a stand against the restrictive anti-LGBTQ beliefs and legislations that are commonplace and prevalent in her home country and West Africa at large. Lines like “I’m wavy / I wanna taste her” and “I wanna week witb her / She taste like lexapro” unabashedly show that Amaarae will not be censored by homophobic performativeness or perform overt heterosexuality just to advance her music. Ultimately, “S.MO.” sounds like a mix of The Angel You Don’t Know’ and ‘Fountain Baby,’ taking the high points of both albums for a song that’s undeniably in line with Amaarae’s stated vision of making futuristic Afropop. It’s also a strong opening salvo for what could be one of the best albums from anywhere in the world this year. 

THE RISE OF AFROBEATS IN THE UK

It should come as no surprise that Great Britain has become a key nexus for Nigerian and Ghanaian cultural innovation. Due to a deeply unequal colonial relationship that saw opportunity concentrated in the metropole, both countries possess long histories of migration and interchange with the United Kingdom–histories that have bred critical innovations in music.

Indeed, a young Fela Kuti studied trumpet performance at London’s Trinity College of Music, making his first-ever recordings in London and meeting artists like Oladipupo “Ambrose” Campbell, who would eventually influence the signature sound behind Afrobeat. Osibisa, one of the most influential bands in Ghana’s history, was formed in 1960s London, led by the Kumasi-born Teddy Osei and renowned for meshing African rhythms with genres like Rock, Funk, and Soul. It is understandable, then, that a genre as global as Afrobeats would have a deep relationship with the United Kingdom, one whose seeds were sown before the start of the 21st Century.

Early 2000s: The JJCs

Triggered by varied political crises–ranging from Sani Abacha’s murderous regime to the Somali Civil War–and neoliberalism-driven economic strife, Africans across the continent, from the mid-1980s to the early 2000s, migrated to the United Kingdom at an unprecedented rate. This fresh crop of migrants, some of whom had also travelled to further their university education, found themselves in an environment where their home music was largely inaccessible in the public arena, and this encouraged the efforts of brave cultural innovators who would work to make a space for African music in the United Kingdom. 

This is where we’ll find figures like the Kano-born JJC, a rapper who migrated to the UK as a teenager, later becoming a producer for the famed Black British Hip-Hop group Big Brovaz. Fed up with the lack of representation for African culture in the British music mainstream, he formed a group called the 419 Squad. Emblematic of what JJC called “Afro-pean” music, the Squad was known for meshing both Yoruba and English in their releases, fostering a unique sense of belonging for Nigerians in the British heartland. Their 2003 debut LP ‘Atide’ featured collaborators like Weird MC, Kween, Maintain, Dr Sid, and Don Jazzy, revealing the extent of their relationship with the continental Nigerian music scene. 

Cultural curators like Ayo Shonaiya and DJ Abass helped carve out distinctly African and Black diasporic music spaces through live events and media. Shonaiya’s BEN TV became a pioneering source of African music entertainment TV in the UK, and with Abass as a major presenter on the channel’s Intro talk show, the pair featured individuals like Tony Tetuila, Jazzman Olofin, Ruggedman, and even Jamaica’s Chaka Demus & Pliers. Through events like 2003’s Nigerian Independence Intro Jam, they provided a stage for acts like The Trybesmen, Tony Teutila, AY, JJC & 419 Squad, Eedris Abdulkareem, Maintain, and more to perform in London, a groundbreaking feat for the period.

Quite notably, the UK was also where Don Jazzy properly cut his teeth as a producer. In the early 2000s, he started out in a UK-Nigerian outfit called the Solek Crew, who fused indigenous Nigerian sound with genres like Hip-hop and R&B. He eventually went on to work with JJC & the 419 Squad, where he properly learned the intricacies of music production. He then met D’Banj, whose 2005 debut album ‘No Long Thing,’ Don Jazzy would produce. The pair made the critical decision to move back to Nigeria and release the project there under their newly-formed label Mo’Hits, kickstarting an era of success for themselves and, ultimately, the next era of Nigerian music.

Amid these industry-level innovations, there was also community-based work that furthered “Afrobeats” and African music culture in the United Kingdom. Hall parties were community gatherings hosted by immigrants from across the continent, where music from the likes of Daddy Lumba and Awilo Longomba would loudly play. Notting Hill Carnival’s “Nigerian Corner” offered a stage for diverse London audiences to experience performances from Nigerian artists and comedians alike. Show promoters like the 90 Per cent Group with Dennis Tawiah and DJ Abrantee (who was popularly, albeit erroneously, credited with coining the term “Afrobeats” in 2011) produced community gatherings like Ghanaian Independence nights, ultimately laying the groundwork for the next generation of Afrobeats in the United Kingdom.

Early 2010s: British Afrobeats and Preliminary Fusion 

Even with the spirited efforts of the previous era, the prevalence of Afrobeats in the British mainstream and even amongst Black Britons remained marginal in a landscape where Caribbean (and particularly Jamaican) cultural expression had greater visibility. Afrobeats and African music struggled to find a consistent place in the Black British cultural fore–but this was challenged in the late 2000s and early 2010s by the African “uni scene.” Here, Christian Adofo–British-Ghanaian journalist and author of A Quick Ting on Afrobeats–weighs in:

“It’s a whole entrepreneurial kind of scene,” Adofo explains, detailing the rise of the “uni scene.” “A lot of [event] promoters were of West African heritage, and they realized…they used to go to a lot of Nigerian independence or Ghanaian independence raves in the mid 1990s to the early 2000s. They saw there was a gap in this market where a lot of people who had [West African] heritage were going to these events that were selling out two or three-thousand-capacity venues. They thought, ‘How come we can’t come together more regularly as opposed to during this kind of annual event?’ [Furthermore,] the more dominant population in terms of the Black population [in Britain] is no longer Caribbean; it’s overtaken by people of West African heritage. In turn, you see a lot of people who are in university but want entertainment that reflects where they’re from. So [promoters] build these ‘uni’ raves [where]…DJs and emcees are… making reference to their respective motherlands, shouting out people in the crowd.”

It was through these university raves that African youth who had spent their formative years in the UK–unlike the previous set of innovators who, mainly, had recently migrated to the United Kingdom–could have their voice. These university-centered events progressed beyond the older Fuji, Soukous, and Hiplife that defined the hall parties of their childhood, and offered a platform for contemporary “Afrobeats” in the British heartland.

The rise of these African social spaces both paralleled and helped foster the production of homegrown Afrobeats amongst this set of British Africans, forming what can be called British Afrobeats. Early British-Ghanaian Afrobeats artists–Mista Silva, Kwamz & Flava, and A-Star–sampled the immensely popular “Move Back” by Ghana’s 5five, creating their track “Bo Won Sem Ma Me.” Mista Silva starts off the track singing in Ghanaian Twi, then quickly transitions to Black British English while using a standard grime flow, reflecting the confluence of Ghanaian and Black British culture. 

In this same era, the South London-bred Fuse ODG travelled to Ghana in 2011 and returned to London with a sonic gold mine. That same year, he released “Azonto,” shaking the UK and the African continent alike while offering a major soundtrack to the Ghanaian dance craze following Sarkodie’s iconic “U Go Kill Me.” With a top 30 slot on the charts, the track reflected the increasing popularity of music inspired by Africa, rivaled only by D’banj’s top 10 hit “Oliver Twist.” It was soon followed by “Antenna,” peaking at number 7 on the UK’s singles chart and earning a remix with Wyclef Jean. 2014’s “Dangerous Love” with Sean Paul, the biggest song of his career, reached a startling number three on the UK singles chart and remained there for 24 weeks.

As evidenced by Fuse ODG, British African artists were already creating work that impacted the progression of Afrobeats back on the continent. British-Ghanaian producer Juls produced “Feel Alright” for Show Dem Camp in 2012, and the following year produced “Bankulize” for Mr. Eazi. At this point, it was unknown that the same producer would go on to form a key part of soundscapes across the UK, Ghana, and Nigeria, shaping Afrobeats, Banku music, Alté, and Afroswing among others. Similarly, British-Nigerian artist-producer Maleek Berry was steadily producing tracks for continental stars like Davido, Sauce Kid, and Wande Coal, and after having joined Starboy Entertainment as an in-house producer, put out his own songs alongside his label boss Wizkid.

Other artists such as Mitch, and British-Nigerians SK, Timbo, Sneakbo, and YFS furthered the Afrobeats sound by meshing it with genres like UK Rap and Dancehall, as seen in Mover and Timbo’s 2013 hit “Ringtone.” 2014’s “Marry Juana” by then Peckham-based Naira Marley was another highly popular track in the burgeoning scene that showcased the early meshing of Afrobeats and Dancehall. This routine straddling of Afrobeats, Rap, and Dancehall both pioneered and prophesied the syncretism that would characterize the following movement: Afroswing.

While these artists were responsible for pushing British-born African sound, they could not have achieved widespread resonance without the help of DJs propelling the scene. Almost as important as the acts themselves, disc jockeys like DJ P Montana, DJ Funkz, DJ Larizzle, and Afro B were pivotal in pushing both British and continental Afrobeats in clubs, raves, and at radio stations.

2016 – 2018: The Golden Age of Afroswing

By 2015, the UK still had a crop of acts pushing “pure” Afrobeats. Kwamz & Flava–still known today for their infectious Afro Dance tracks–represented their country of origin well with tracks like 2015’s “WO ONANE NO” and the following year’s “Takeover.” In 2015, Juls’ production on “Skin Tight” with Mr. Eazi and Efya created one of the biggest songs of Mr. Eazi’s career to date. That same year, Jaij Hollands put out the addictive Azonto-influenced number “PINGA” alongside NSG, birthing one of NSG’s early breakthrough tracks. All in all, Afrobeats had much more of a presence in the UK, reflected in 2015’s “Ojuelegba” remix with Drake and grime giant Skepta, where the latter aptly reminisced back to his school days when “being African was a diss.”

In a twist of events, this same era would witness the mainstreaming of a syncretic African sound native to the United Kingdom–one that merged Afrobeats with genres like Bashment, Hip-Hop, and Road Rap, and featured interplay between African, Black British, and Caribbean dialects and flows.

“It’s not just rooted in West African culture,” Christian Adofo says of Afroswing. “It’s also rooted in Caribbean culture and an idea of Black Britishness. And then you jump on top of that with your own kind of pidgin, or that UK or Jamaican patois, these are all different kinds of elements that speak to a sort of code switching within different settings. They’re uniting Black people from different environments.”

If possible, perhaps too many individuals and tracks are representative of the Afroswing renaissance. East London’s Kojo Funds captivated listeners back in 2014 with Afro-Dancehall tracks “Want From Me” and “Arriba!.” While 2016’s “My 9ine” offered him increased popularity, it was the famed “Dun Talkin’” featuring British-Ghanaian rapper Abra Cadabra that truly inked his name into the annals of Afroswing history (and arguably inspired the refrain of Davido’s “Fall”). The song’s blend of Rap, Dancehall, and African beats saw Kojo Funds incorporate African sonics into the Black British cultural fabric, making the song a certified anthem whilst catapulting Kojo Funds to national fame.

His following track, “Fine Wine, was a similarly significant hit, one which led to the breakout of its featured act Yxng Bane. Bane, a Congolese-Angolan vocalist and MC, began his journey into the world of Afropop through 2016’s “Should’ve Known Better.” He made his name as a standout in the scene through the aforementioned “Fine Wine” of the same year, a sexy remix of Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You,” and his biggest feature “Bestie,” a summer-ready Afroswing banger about clandestine love that peaked at number 10 on the UK Charts. 

Not3s’ “Addison Lee” became a gigantic hit in 2016 Afroswing, followed soon after by the indulgent “Aladdin” and “My Lover,” marking the beginning of his career as a consistent player in the genre. Ramz’s “Barking” similarly dominated the scene, shooting up to number two on the UK Singles chart. Dave and MoStack’s “No Words” – crafted by Afroswing producer Steel Banglez – was a massive triumph, as were the joyous “Unsigned” and “Best Life,” both highly successful collaborations between British-Nigerians Hardy Caprio and One Acen. MoStack alone was a force in Afroswing, pushing genre-defining collaborations with acts like MIST and J Hus. Lotto Boyzz blended melodic trap with Afro-influenced production on “No Don,” and with their successful 2017 EP ‘Afrobbean’ (unintentionally hearkening back to JJC’s “Afro-pean” music), they also attempted to define the unfurling Afroswing phenomenon. British-Nigerian artist Tion Wayne began his journey into the world of Afro-fusion sound with “Can’t Go Broke” alongside Afro B, triggering the start of numerous collaborations with the latter artist and Wayne’s career as a formidable rapper in Afroswing. Maleek Berry’s “Kontrol” and Afro B’s “Drogba (Joanna)” found dominance back on the continent, while Eugy & Mr. Eazi’s “Dance for Me” saw an explosive collaboration between the homegrown and the diasporic.

However, no artist is quite as emblematic of the Afroswing wave as J Hus. The Gambian-Ghanaian rapper first gained attention in 2014 for his versatile freestyles on popular Black British music platforms, known to alternate from gritty rap to melodic hooks, betraying a grip on the balance that defined Afroswing. His street anthem Dem Boy Paigon” perfectly reflected the genre’s fusion ethos, while “Friendly”–a similarly “greasy” tune blending Afrobeats, Dancehall, and rap–further distinguished J Hus as a never-before-seen talent. Both tracks found their way onto his highly influential mixtape ‘The 15th Day’ –an ode to his Stratford origins that featured acts like NSG and Mista Silva.

It would ultimately be 2017’s “Did You See,” produced by Hus’ long-time collaborator Jae5, that would leave an indelible, Hus-shaped mark in Great Britain’s music ecosystem. One need only watch J Hus’ 2018 performance at the nomination show for the infamous BRIT Awards, as he performs “Did You See” to a crowd of white British youths who recite every word back to him.

His wildly successful debut album ‘Common Sense’–also produced majorly by Jae–was a symbolic microcosm of Afroswing’s golden age. Equipped with Afrobeats, Rap, Bashment, soul, and a penchant for fusion, the project saw previously marginal sounds become the soundtrack of a nation–the entire thesis of the Afroswing movement.

In this same era, individuals like Juls produced music that had deep resonance both within the UK and on the continent. His 2017 debut project ‘Leap of Faith’, recruited British African acts like Kojey Radical, Not3s, Kojo Funds, Eugy, and Tomi Agape, whilst forming soothing soundscapes with alternative artists such as Odunsi the Engine, Cruel Santino, Nonso Amadi, and Moelogo. Juls’ signature sound traveled back to the continent in the forms of gems like Burna Boy’s “Gwarn” and Wande Coal’s “So Mi So” and “Sister Girl,” solidifying his role as a key player both on the continent and in diaspora.

2018 – 2021: The Second Wave 

By late 2018 and 2019, the Afroswing scene had begun to acquire new leading players, many of whom offered fresh and innovative interpretations of Afro-syncretic music that differed from the representations of the previous epoch. NSG fully reigned in this era, releasing the ever-danceable “Yo Darlin’” with Geko, “Options,” and “OT Bop.” Their 2020 mixtape ‘Roots,’ drawing on genres like Afrobeats, Reggae, and Hip-Hop, served as a symbolic meeting place for disparate Black diasporic listeners while emphasizing the centrality of Africa, authentically representing the essence of Afroswing. 

Ms. Banks, known primarily as a rapper, became a strong contender in Afroswing with 2019’s release of her Afrobashment track “Snack” featuring Kida Kudz. The same year, Darkoo’s breakout “Gangsta,” followed by “Juicy,” laid the foundations for her future as an Afropop hitmaker. Shaybo operated in a similar vein, incorporating Yoruba and pidgin into her drill tracks before releasing the syncretic Afroswing number “Dobale” (which later earned a remix with Bella Shmurda). Ghana’s Br3nya, however, had a more consistent relationship with the genre, often rapping rhythmically about her feminine wiles over thumping African beats. In this same era, the Afroswing hit “Don’t Rush” by Young T & Bugsey–a Nigerian-Jamaican rap outfit–gained mass virality, highlighting the genre’s international resonance.  

Midas the Jagaban was particularly novel for being the first woman to incorporate Street-pop into British Afropop, evidenced in “Come We Bill Ehh” and “Party With a Jagaban.” While raw Street-pop was slightly uncommon in a British context, pushed primarily by acts like Naira Marley and Damibilz, Midas’ joyful, upbeat interpretation of the genre made it highly accessible to wider audiences. Her work–and the effort of the women mentioned before her–represented that the changes of this era were not only sonic, but also identarian. For the first time, Black women were significant players in the Afroswing scene, taking up space as leading artists whose swagger, aspirations, and sexualities could be expressed through the genre without inhibition. 

While West London’s WSTRN is known mainly for their innovations in Dancehall, R&B, and Hip-Hop, the collective’s diversity of sound also embraces Afrobeats and Afroswing–as seen in “Wonder Woman” and their Fireboy DML collaboration “Be My Guest.” Odeal opted for an Afro-R&B route, his melodic offerings like “Composure 2” and “Na You” prophesying his current reign. A-Star, while outside of the realm of Afroswing proper, made his name as a force in Afro Dance music, releasing his 2018 breakout “Kupe Dance” and following up with the viral “Balaya,” “Nana Riddim,” and “Stepping Good.”

There was, of course, Pa Salieu, Coventry’s British-Gambian gem, who put out gritty, rap-driven Afroswing as well as drill. His popular tracks “Frontline” and “My Family” are exemplary of his Afro-road sound, and he calls on the continent often with Afrocentric works such as 2020’s “B***K” (pronounced “Black”) and his 2021 EP ‘Afrikan Rebel.’

The dominance of Afroswing standardized the incorporation of African influences into the Black British music canon. As such, it became commonplace for rappers like Nines, Loski, and Giggs to incorporate smooth Afropop b-sides into their own projects, working with artists like NSG, Davido, and Obongjayar, respectively. The most glaring indicator of Afroswing’s influence in Great Britain, however, was the new UK Afrobeats chart. In 2020, the UK’s Official Charts company created a distinct chart to document the extent of the genre’s resonance in the country, demonstrating the sheer extent to which the nation consumed African sound. 

2021 – Present: The Death of Afroswing?

As the UK continued to call, continental Afrobeats acts continued to answer. It was only such strong fervor for African sound that could have inspired Mr. Eazi’s seminal ‘Lagos to London’ mixtape, where he invited the likes of Lotto Boyzz, Sneakbo, Maleek Berry, and the legendary Giggs to his Banku-driven world. Live events like Davido’s sold-out 30 Billion UK Tour, or Wizkid’s sold-out Afrorepublik show–both held in 2018–convey the extent of Afrobeats’ popularity in the United Kingdom. Such frequent cross-breeding naturally inspired collaborations that made waves in both Africa and diaspora, such as Wizkid and Skepta’s “Energy,” or Dave and Burna Boy’s “Location.”

The UK’s Afrobeats craze only intensified with time. While Wizkid’s 2020 magnum opus ‘Made in Lagos’ helped spread Afrobeats to global markets that it had scarcely reached before, the project only fanned Great Britain’s pre-existing flame. Building off of this zeal, Wizkid occupied London’s O2 Arena in a sold-out, three-day-long residency in 2021. Bringing out Nigerian stars like Tems, BNXN fka Buju, and Burna Boy, as well as UK acts like Giggs, Juls, and Skepta, Wizkid created an unrivaled space of cultural communion for Africans in Britain, whilst producing what became one of the most infamous international performances in the history of Afrobeats. Burna Boy followed suit in 2023, with a sold-out concert at the iconic 80,000 capacity London Stadium. The same year, Rema sold out the O2 Arena on his ‘Ravage’ tour, as did Asake in 2024 during his ‘Lungu Boy’ tour. In the most symbolic–and perhaps controversial– display of Afrobeats’ influence in the United Kingdom, Tiwa Savage performed at King Charles III’s 2023 coronation alongside the likes of Katy Perry and Lionel Richie. Here, what was brought to the metropole via colonial processes now sat side by side with the empire.

Now, it is almost common for the biggest Afrobeats acts to surpass the reach of their British peers – with acts like Burna Boy, Ayra Starr, Asake, and Rema leading lineups at the Glastonbury and Wireless Festivals. And while many British Africans lament the “death of the hall party,” their absence has technically been supplemented by the rise of countless event series that amplify African music. Afro Nation–arguably the world’s biggest Afrobeats festival–is a direct product of London-based Nigerian show promoters, revealing the sound’s dominance within the country.

While Afrobeats’ standing in the UK is firmer than ever before, the same cannot be said for Afroswing. 2021 produced a solid crop of Afroswing hits, such as Dave’s “System” and “Lazarus” with Wizkid and Boj, Darkoo’s “Bad From Early,” and NSG’s “Petite,” “After OT Bop,” “Don’t Play Me,” and “Colonization.” A newer set of Afro-centric artists now dominate the scene, namely JayO, Odeal, Gabzy, and Darkoo, amongst others. However, far deviating from the glorious summers of old when Afroswing reigned, the past 3 years have seen national fervor for the sound wither. Some blamed the lull on the disappearance of anchors like J Hus, who, after releasing his critically acclaimed sophomore album ‘Big Conspiracy’ at the top of 2020, all but vanished on an indefinite hiatus. 

It’s more likely that the scene’s decline is linked to the natural progression of history. At its foundation, Afroswing gained popularity on a highly local level, becoming the primary framework for Britons looking to incorporate African influences into their music. Now, as African genres have gained unprecedented global prominence, UK-based artists looking to “Africanize” their sound are more likely to draw from continentally-produced Afrobeats and Amapiano, no longer relying on a homegrown, syncretic British sound. 

In fear of the scene’s demise, artists and consumers alike have clamored for change, brainstorming ways that we can collectively save Afroswing. In 2023, NSG began a campaign to “Make Afroswing Great Again,” releasing their debut album AREA BOYZ and hosting a “Make Afroswing Great Again” concert featuring Timbo, Geko, Ramz, Kojo Funds, Not3s, Young T & Bugsey, One Acen, Darkoo, Tion Wayne, Steel Banglez, and Jae5, among others. J Hus, in a return of Avatar-like proportions, broke his project hiatus in the same year, releasing his TSB-anchored third album, ‘Beautiful and Brutal Yard.’ Possibly reflecting the changing times. However, the project failed to have the same impact as its predecessors. 

Ultimately, part of the beauty of the Afroswing movement was that it represented a kind of renaissance, where, for what felt like the first time, African music held a dominant position in Great Britain’s cultural landscape. Following this renaissance, the barriers had been broken, and the representation had been achieved–making the novelty of the moment impossible to replicate. Essentially, it is difficult for Afroswing to be as revolutionary as it was during its golden years, because its revolutionary character was rooted in just how unprecedented it was.

While many mourn Afroswing’s “death,” it might be more accurate to say that the genre’s prime has passed but that its legacy lives on. It now forms an indelible component of the Black British music canon, both continuing and strengthening the fusion tradition that allowed it to come to life in the first place. Moreover, the genre–and all other British-born manifestations of African music–forcibly made a home for Afrobeats within Great Britain–a home whose lease will fail to expire for the foreseeable future. Recent projects from Pa Salieu, NSG, Young T & Bugsey, and Jae5 serve as proof that the Afro-influenced sound in Great Britain is alive and well, and that the impact of Afroswing remains. British-African artists like Len, Jim Legxacy, and LeoStaysTrill incorporate African rhythms into their rap explorations, revealing the genre’s impact beyond the constraints of a singular sound. In Afroswing’s wake, African sounds unabashedly thrive in Britain–no longer relegated to the margins, but instead taking up their rightful position on the center stage.

How South Africa Became Africa’s Premier Touring Destination 

For a long time, debates have gone back and forth about which city truly deserves the crown as Africa’s cultural capital. From Lagos to Accra, Nairobi to Dakar, several cities are boldly putting their hands up. But while the continent is thriving with creative energy, one nation is stepping forward with the infrastructure, influence, and global pull to back its claim: South Africa. In recent years, South Africa has emerged as the continent’s leading destination for international touring artists from Beyoncé and Kendrick Lamar to Chris Brown and Travis Scott. This surge is not a coincidence, but rather the result of decades-long socio-political transformation, strategic infrastructure investment, and the global rise of its cultural exports, particularly in music.

During the apartheid era, South Africa was effectively cut off from global cultural exchange. As the world rallied against racial segregation, the country was subjected to widespread cultural boycotts endorsed by the United Nations that barred international artists from performing in the country. Legendary South African artists such as Miriam Makeba, Hugh Masekela, and Abdullah Ibrahim were forced into exile, using their music as a vehicle of resistance and global advocacy against the apartheid regime.

The end of apartheid in 1994, marked by Nelson Mandela’s election as president, catalyzed the country’s reintegration into the global community. The first multiracial elections, the establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and the drafting of a new constitution signified a rebirth. Cultural sanctions were lifted, allowing South Africa to reconnect with the global entertainment industry and open its doors to international artists and organizations.

THE SPORTING EVENTS THAT DOUBLED AS AUDITIONS

Taking place a year after the end of apartheid, the 1995 Rugby World Cup was a watershed moment for the country. Not only did South Africa host and win the tournament, but it also demonstrated to the world that the country was ready politically and infrastructurally to host large-scale events. This precedent was solidified with the 2010 FIFA World Cup, the first to be held on African soil. According to FIFA, the event generated an estimated $3.6 billion in economic impact and brought more than 300,000 visitors to South Africa. The event also resulted in the construction and upgrading of world-class stadiums like FNB Stadium, which now routinely hosts concerts with a capacity exceeding 90,000 attendees.

South Africa’s robust transport networks, stadiums, and hospitality infrastructure set it apart from many African nations. Major cities such as Johannesburg, Cape Town, and Durban boast international-standard airports, luxury accommodations, and modern venues. The Gautrain rapid rail system, high-end shopping districts, and extensive event support services make logistics relatively seamless for international acts.

AMAPIANO AND CULTURAL CAPITAL

Beyond infrastructure, South Africa’s appeal lies in its burgeoning cultural capital. Amapiano–a homegrown subgenre of house music–has exploded globally, in part due to TikTok and YouTube virality since the COVID-19 pandemic. In 2019, Amapiano saw 34 million streams on Spotify; by the end of 2020, that number had surged to over 102 million. Songs like “Mnike” by Tyler ICU and “Tshwala Bam” by Tito M and Yuppe have broken beyond South Africa’s borders, becoming global anthems that dominate dance floors and playlists worldwide. Platforms like Major League DJz’s Balcony Mix and viral hits like “Ke Star” Remix (featuring Nigerian superstar Davido) helped export the genre globally. Meanwhile, vocalist Sha Sha made history in 2020 by becoming the first Amapiano artist to win a BET Award. Also, South African acts like DJ Maphorisa, Kabza De Small, Uncle Waffles, and  DBN Gogo have become a permanent fixture on international festival stages.

Tyla’s 2024 Grammy win for “Water” further underscores South Africa’s relevance on the global music scene. With 33 Grammy Awards and 113 nominations to date, South Africa’s musical prowess is long-established. From artists like Black Coffee and Zakes Bantwini to the harmonies of Ladysmith Black Mambazo, the country has an international pedigree that stands it in good stead. 

South Africa’s youth are among the most active on platforms like TikTok on the continent. According to DataReportal’s 2024 report, South Africa has over 17.4 million TikTok users, making it one of Africa’s top content creation hubs. Viral dance challenges and music trends often originate or gain traction in South Africa before spreading across the continent and beyond, establishing the country as a tastemaker in digital culture.

BIG BRANDS AND BIG BUDGETS

According to the World Bank’s Doing Business Report, South Africa consistently ranks among the top three sub-Saharan African nations for ease of doing business. Its legal frameworks, visa policies (notably the artist visa), and established IP laws make it a favorable environment for touring companies and artists.

Additionally, South Africa has a well-developed creative industry ecosystem supported by both local and multinational corporations. Live Nation and Big Concerts regularly book global stars for South African legs of their tours. The DSTV Delicious International Food and Music Festival has hosted artists like Jill Scott and Busta Rhymes, while the Global Citizen Festival brought Beyoncé and Jay-Z in 2018, in partnership with the Motsepe Foundation. Corporate brands like Heineken, Jameson, and Flying Fish have also curated branded concerts and pop-ups with acts such as Gunna, J.I.D., and Anderson.Paak

In 2024, Chris Brown’s Breezy Tour drew over 180,000 attendees at FNB Stadium over two nights and generated an estimated R900 million (approximately $48 million) for Gauteng’s economy, while creating more than 6,000 temporary jobs. These figures highlight how the entertainment industry is becoming a key driver of tourism and youth employment in South Africa.

Still, it’s not always smooth sailing. “There are so many hurdles,” says Dale de Ruig, Managing Director of Steyn Entertainment, the force behind festivals like Rocking the Daisies, In the City, and the award-winning label Stay Low. “[Between] the ever-weakening currency, agents who want to extract as much money as possible without regard for local spending power, it’s probably the only industry where you pay, but the talent is treated like the customer. It’s very nuanced and takes real experience to navigate.” Despite the challenges, the interest keeps growing. “Everyone seems to want to perform in Africa,” De Ruig explains. “And with our infrastructure, South Africa becomes the key destination. Artists who are flexible and willing to make it work are coming down in their droves.” 

South Africa’s trajectory from cultural isolation to global entertainment magnet is one of strategic investment in infrastructure, policy reform, and cultural capital. The rise of Amapiano, the global acclaim of artists like Tyla, and the country’s unmatched capacity to host large-scale events signal that South Africa deserves its spot as a global cultural landmark. As the world looks toward Africa as the next frontier of cultural and economic growth, South Africa’s model offers a compelling blueprint for other nations on the continent.