Best New Music: Tshego unites Nasty C & Nadia Nakai for the anthemic “Money Machines”

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 Love’ here. 

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 “Over” here.

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.