Brazilian Funk is Afropop’s Bouncy New Muse

Nigerian music has adopted the energetic South American genre as artists and producers seek to inject its novel energy into Afropop.

After Skales captured the world’s attention with the belated success of “Shake Body” earlier this year, his next move was to freeze his moment in the sun with another smash. To do this, he needed a similarly punchy sound to capture the same market without being repetitive. He arrived on “D.L.L.Y (Dance Like Lamine Yamal),” an ebullient jam built on Brazilian Funk beats produced by Killertunes. Weeks later, Burna Boy became the latest Nigerian artist to connect with the genre via “TaTaTa,” a steamy club banger which features American rapper Travis Scott, with producer-cum-artist, Chilleaux (fka Chillz), behind the boards. The song became the most recent of several Nigerian songs in the last few years to dip into the energetic, audacious South American genre, as artists and producers seek to inject its novel energy into Afropop.

While Brazilian Funk is most famous for its thumping percussion, its Hip-Hop-inspired grittiness, and the frenzied, nearly abrasive rave parties it inspires, the genre as we know it is built on centuries of history and culture, and not all of it is celebratory. Brazilian Funk emerged from the favelas of Rio de Janeiro and the urban peripheries of São Paulo, shaped by the experiences of Brazil’s Black underclass, many of whom are descendants of Africans forcibly enslaved by Portuguese colonizers during the transatlantic slave trade. Like American Hip-Hop, it was born from decades of systemic exclusion and economic hardship, becoming a symbol of both creative expression and resistance. It evolved to absorb Miami Bass, Afro-Brazilian rhythms, Electronic Dance Music, and more into its unique structure. 

Even today, Brazilian Funk still brushes up against the law, the police, and upper-class society who associate the genre with crime and decadence. In 2019, DJ Rennan de Penha was arrested and later released for offences related to drug trafficking, a move believed to have been rooted in racial bias. Earlier this year, conservative lawmakers passed a bill to stop government funding to artists who promote criminals or criminal activity in their music, targeting specific subgenres of Brazilian Funk. Nicknamed the “Anti-Oruam” bill (after trapper Mauro Davi dos Santos Nepomuceno, AKA Oruam), the legislation directly targets Funk Proibidão and Funk Ostentação, genres often criticized for glamorizing gang violence and lavish wealth. 

Still, Brazilian Funk has continued to flourish within Brazil. And outside its borders, Funk has made many global excursions – the most recent of which has happened in the last few years, propelled by the sound gaining TikTok virality. Brazilian Funk is now more of an umbrella term than a specific genre, like Pop or Afrobeats, having expanded to birth multiple offspring. Baile (or “dance party”) Funk originated from Rio de Janeiro, earning it the nickname of Funk Carioca; it often utilises socially conscious lyrics that depict life in the favela. Funk Paulista (from São Paulo) is often referred to as funk ostentação (or ostentatious funk) and features more upbeat themes around fast cars and flashy jewellery. Other Brazilian cities imprint the genre with their unique flair: Funk Mandelão is hard-hitting and expressive, while Brega Funk from Northeast Brazil is more loose and unpredictable. 

As the genre gains prominence and popularity, it inevitably invites innovation and reinvention from all over the world. Brazilian Phonk is a Funk-inspired genre with tentacles all over the Americas and beyond, with each song built over the near-identical abstract bounces that have become the soundtrack to millions of TikTok videos. American Rap titans have also caught the bug in the recent past – from Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion on “Bongos” to Travis Scott on “K-POP” – as the genre continues to grow in stature. Nigerian music, too, being as shape-shifting as ever, has adopted Brazilian Funk in recent years. But it has done so with some hesitation, as artists approach this new genre to see how it can expand Afropop’s sound. 

Teni’s last album, ‘Tears of the Sun,’ opens with the genre on “YBGFA,” where Teni’s self-expository musings are set to a basic Baile Funk beat bearing the characteristic tap-tap rhythm that is the hallmark of the genre, but producer Rymez steers clear of any other embellishments; a safe yet satisfactory exploration. For “Naija Funk,” Aykbeats leans into the Rap-readiness of the genre, as PsychoYP is joined by frequent collaborator Azanti for a tale of brotherhood while a gentle Baile Funk beat unfurls unobtrusively. 

Tha Undisputed Champion (T.U.C.), who produced “Free of Charge,” a recent collaboration between Joeboy and Olamide, believes that Nigerian artists are still relatively cautious about the genre. “They haven’t fully accepted it,” he says.“I’m sure they are waiting for more people to try it and see it work before they get on it.” The visionary disruptors in any artistic scene do so at a certain risk: when it works, they become pioneers, but if the audience does not resonate with the experiment, it can backfire quite badly. 

For T.U.C., real name Hyacinth Obidi, these genre-bending explorations are the high point of music production, and they led him to Brazilian Funk: “I always like to try new things,” he notes. “I’ve always been fusing genres, it makes me happy whenever I try an idea and it comes out nice. In my quest to discover something different, I tried Baile, and “Free Of Charge” is one of the products.” While the rest of the industry plays catch-up, several artists are breaking the mold. Aside from these three songs, the synergistic pair of Melvitto and Gabzy paid homage on “Brazil,” off Gabzy’s 2020 EP, ‘Malone,’ while Ruger and Tiwa Savage’s “Toma Toma,” a Funk Paulista-Afropop joint, was among the highlights of last year’s Detty December season. 

With “Free of Charge” and “D.L.L.Y.,” Joeboy, Olamide and Skales make a more conscious effort to indigenize the genre. While percussion is immutable, they add a texture that feels decidedly African: in the latter, it’s the strings, and for the former, Olamide’s quippy verse. Asake’s “Whine,” off his recent album, ‘Lungu Boy,’ is more Pop than Funk, but it draws heavily from the Brazilian genre, as he taps up singer Ludmilla to star in a spirited video shot on Rio de Janeiro’s pristine beaches and favelas.

Killertunes, born Otaniyen-Uwa Daniel, produced “D.L.L.Y.” with no great expectation. “I discovered Brazilian Funk via a Spotify playlist,” he tells me. “I made the beat so I would have one extra content to post on my Instagram story that evening. Skales reached out for the beat about thirty minutes after I posted it, and he recorded two days later.” He describes Brazilian Funk as “basically distorted dance music” and believes its kinetic bounce endears it to Nigeria’s dance-loving audience. He lists several Nigerian songs that share a similar feel, going on to become major hits: “Shoknorris” by Sarz and Burna Boy, “Shoki” by Lil Kesh, “Skelewu” by Davido, “Ukwu” by Timaya, “Beat of Life” by Sarz and Wizkid.”

For Chilleaux, discovering Brazilian Funk was a little more intentional. “Years of research led me to Baille Funk,” he says. “From the days of listening to Sangobeats on SoundCloud circa 2012, 2013, to reconnecting with the sound recently. I like how effortlessly catchy and groovy its beats are.” The producer, who recently released his own single “Skooby Snack,” thrives on versatility and experimentation. “As a creator, sometimes you just go with the flow. Burna strikes me as an artist who has never been one to conform, and I am someone who loves to experiment, so it was the perfect playground.” Also along for the ride is Travis Scott for a sequel to his “K-POP,” and Chilleaux was surprised when he received the verse. “In one of the final arrangement sessions, he had asked me to leave a space for a feature, and I didn’t think much of it at the time. A few weeks later, it was Travis Scott!” 

Chilleaux believes that Nigeria and Brazil’s musical connection flows from the same cultural core. “Music from Africa and Brazil generally possesses similar groove patterns and time signatures,” he explains. “From what I’ve heard, Brazilian culture as a whole is heavily influenced by West African culture, from the food to religion and music.” Indeed, Nigeria and Brazil share a cultural history that runs deep, but the bottom of it is dark: the transatlantic slave trade. Portuguese slave ships forcefully transported Nigerians, especially of Yoruba origin, to Brazil beginning in the 16th century.

These settlers and their descendants fought to preserve their culture, identity, and, especially, their religion. They continued their worship of Òrìsà, albeit covertly, and preserved this heritage through generations, in a religion now known as Candomblé. As such, modern-day Brazil is now a significant convergence point for Yoruba culture. In 2018, Rio De Janeiro adopted Yoruba as a foreign language, while the Ooni of Ife, Adeyeye Ogunwusi, visited Salvador in 2023 as part of a move to enhance relations amongst the Yoruba-speaking communities of home and abroad. 

Will the Afropop-Brazil connection grow even further and become the next Nigerian gem? Killertunes is sure it will. “I know it will become popular here. We’ve had other crazy dance music in the past,” he asserts. For T.U.C., that answer is a little less certain. “Nobody can tell what will and what won’t work, you only have to keep creating and making sure your next work is better than the previous one. If you try it and the fans don’t resonate with it, you go back to the drawing board.” 

Chilleaux shares similar sentiments. “It’s hard to say at this point, but a banger is a banger. All bangers are welcome,” he says. One thing is sure, though. Brazilian Funk has given Nigerian creators an opportunity to imagine Afropop a little differently, and it serves as a reminder of music’s capacity to build bridges across continents and cultures.

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