Life is unpredictable. This fact about our existence impacts the quality of art that has been created over the years, carrying into their foundation an element of that suddenness. Last year, Davido suffered inexplicably, and in public. In a perfect world, what happened on that first day of November 2022 does not happen. Alas, it did, forever changing the life of a beloved superstar even while he balanced the expectations of his name.
Being one of the brightest and biggest stars in Afropop comes with a lot of responsibility. You’re unarguably a figurehead for an entire movement, contributing many great memories over the years and soundtracking African joy for a local and global audience, with the same intensity as the early days and without losing that unique quality across the sprawl of time. Since the entry of a new vanguard of stars at the turn of the 2020s, David Adeleke’s legacy has come into focus. Sonics are changing, and generations are ever-turning in their relevance to popular culture—it was everything for a musician who’s been active for over ten years to still have hits.
A detour into one’s mind provides that clarification. Few musicians who emerged before the first two years of the last decade are present today. At best they have abandoned the scorching thrill of creating art for mass audiences and at worst they still release music, but with sound and subject matter failing to align with contemporary realities. That is not a Davido problem: with “Champion Sound” and Pheelz’s “Electricity” boasting that hard-to-get combination of genuine audience love and hit quality, he showcased flexibility in perspective and brought the Afropop audience to his singular language.
The more last year progressed, Davido’s deep bag of tricks ensured he wasn’t missing in popular conversations. Meanwhile, the crowd-suffused vocals of Asake were making a serious affront on the entire scene, from Nigeria to the south of Africa. Unpredictably, the sonic landscape had again shifted and it was only right, many wanted to know how someone like Davido would respond. More successfully than the few other superstars in his league, he bent trends to his will, changing notions about the ephemeral not having real currency.
001’s response came through “Stand Strong.” Tints of crowd vocals permeated some parts, but the application was less Asake and more black gospel choir, suggesting a new sonic terrain for Davido. That single didn’t catch on as Davido’s camp would have hoped, but its tone and approach were striking.“OBO no go minus” also became a fan favourite catchphrase for the musician’s resilience, how gracefully he forges on amidst the humane losses he’s had from childhood and now into his thirties.
A fitting peak to Davido’s year would have come on the FIFA World Cup stage, billed to perform at the final after featuring prominently in its official soundtrack, “Hayya Hayya.” As footballers such as Lionel Messi and Kylian Mbappe walked down the tunnel of the Lusail Stadium in Qatar, the promise glimmered in the eyes of Afropop fans worldwide: Davido would have been there, electrifying the stadium and baring his easy smile as the cameras linger on him during the match.
When he shared “See y’all March” on social media last year, the tweet carried great deal of significance. It embodied strength and love for the art of music making. Soon enough, ‘Timeless’ followed the timely strategy of album roll-outs, utilising a packed window to heighten expectations. In typical Davido style, he made the run-up an event of its own. He announced shows in select venues around the world, dropped a merch collaboration with Puma, granted revealing interviews on the self-tailored “Timeless Radio” and most importantly unveiled a due rebranding of his record label, Davido Music Worldwide.
On the old insignia, the depiction of an infant David was the centre of attraction. In its new form, it’s one of a lion with glitzy edges, a nod to the allure and zest of popular culture. Alongside this, Morravey and Logos Olori were also announced as new signees to the label, their intriguing backstories positioning them as worthy torchbearers for the expansion of the DMW legacy. The newcomers were also featured on two of the album’s seventeen songs, meaning that ‘Timeless’ built on the numerical thread of records that have been on every Davido album.
The album incorporates a slew of Davido tricks. Its opener “OVER DEM” continues the chest-thumping affirmation he’s demonstrated on previous album openers such as “FEM” and “All Of You,” on ‘A Better Time’ and ‘Omo Baba Olowo: The Genesis’ respectively. Flexing the verve of his legacy with a joy that suggests introspection, Davido culls biblical metaphor to create the record’s most catchy lyric, “If dem wan turn Goliath, I be David for life.” It’s the sort of phrase crafted with audiences in the mind’s eye, but the mellow groove of the production is coasted smoothly by Davido, lending it peculiar warmth which is a novelty among the other openers in this conversation.
In truth, ‘Timeless’ is a very cohesive album. That sense of warmth never departs its sonic core. Subverting popular expectations, only a few records continue on that path of self-investigation. Legacy is sometimes necessary to contend with, but staring too often into the ocean of one’s influence could drown an artist. It’s therefore credible that ‘Timeless’ ends with “LCND” and “Champion Sound” respectively. Whereas the latter was heavily influenced by the Hip-Hop indebted inflexions of Focalistic over the Amapiano production, Davido goes the solo route on the former.
Perhaps “LCND” would have made a better closer; twinning the album’s talking points of love and loss, it presents the Davido manifesto better than most songs on the ticket.“Make I tell you something, life is not fair,” he sings in the opening line. “Lost many of my guys, but I thank God I still dey here.” The record then flips, celebrating the essence of being alive: being able to touch, taste and love. Except for “UNAVAILABLE” and “PRECISION,” which comment on the nature of relationships, the other records dive head-in into the comforting silk of love’s fabric.
It’s the interwoven thread around the album’s almost fifty-minute runtime. The run-up to the release of ‘Timeless’ came with the announcement that Davido had married to his longtime partner, Chioma Rowland (a.k.a. Chef Chi). A heartwarming moment hinged on the affectionate direction of “Assurance,” which was inspired by and featured the chef in its visuals, it had full-circle appeal. From that backdrop, the several love-attuned songs on the album feel like letterings on the doorpost of their relationship. From heartbreak to head-spinning intimacy, just about every spectrum of emotion is touched upon.
However, Davido delivers varying results, or perhaps, the songs just fail to come together. A rare misstep occurs on “U (JUJU),” which sounds like a well-thought-out song but falls quite short of brilliance. Skepta’s verse and the production are bright spots, but altogether the record fails to leave a lasting impression. The interpolation of Ice Prince’s “Juju” succeeds in its nostalgic intent, pointing a potential direction towards being a deep cut.
Fortunately, the good songs appear way more frequently. That goes partly to the focused direction of collaborations on ‘Timeless,’ which brought Davido into a light he’s scarcely seen to occupy previously. ‘A Better Time’ baulked under the American motivations behind its collaboration, with Nicki Minaj seeming to be only the essential from a bunch which included Nas, Hit-Boy and Young Thug. Far from a rapper, those incursions suggested more passion than tact, and it’s a gap Davido fills with ‘Timeless’.
In very different ways, each feature on ‘Timeless’ elevates their respective records, whether it’s Asake bringing his signature word-bending to “NO COMPETITION” or a Wizkid-reminiscent contribution from Logos Olori on “PICASSO.” Fave’s evocative writing adds bubbly feminine energy to “KANTE” in ways similar to Morravey on “IN THE GARDEN.” The neo-Highlife flourish on “NA MONEY” scores typical and successful features with The Cavemen., but the energy of Angelique Kidjo doesn’t just excite on a visceral level, it brings the album’s cross-generational appeal into focus. Add Musa Keys on the TikTok-winged “UNAVAILABLE” and the pan-African vision of OBO present on Diamond Platnumz’s “Number One” and “Tchelete (Good Life)” with Mafikizolo reveals itself as enduring.
The biggest takeaway from ‘Timeless’ is the renewed vocalism of Davido. As a genre, Afropop hasn’t been the keenest on voices but that perception is changing. As showcased in their recent work, artists like Burna Boy and Ayra Starr have vocals that would rival anyone anywhere, and it’s an industry phenomenon as well. So many unique voices and then there’s Davido. Husky and inflected with Nigerian lingo which manifests in adlibs and animated catchphrases, it’s a highlight of modern African music. But sometimes he’s tried too hard to be evocative, almost seeming pressed under the weight of legacy.
‘Timeless’ witnesses an essential stripping of that weight. Every song benefits from this ease of delivery. On “FEEL,” he almost lulls into the microphone, the muscular verve replaced with, finally, an air of accepting the validity of his peculiar skillset. Fewer songs capture Davido’s vocal dynamism as “E PAIN ME,” one of his most vulnerable moments on wax. The storytelling is gripping but it’s his switching between the metres of sound—cool and detached in one lyric, hurt and screaming in another—that makes the song stick. “FOR THE ROAD” adopts a weary gaze that accentuates the longing for one last intimacy before the girl departs, while Davido’s curative expertise meets this vocal awareness most brilliantly on “NA MONEY,” sandwiched between his guests and becoming light to allow the energy flow through his contribution.
With the production, Davido balances pomp with cohesiveness. This, he achieves with variant producers, virtuosos of Nigerian pop such as Shizzi, Blaisebeats, Magicsticks and 1Da Banton sharing the room with relatively fresh figures which include Young Alpha, Rore, Jon P, Sparriq and Damie. Amapiano-coloured log drums are present on many songs, but arrangements with violins and pianos brood side-by-side with the percussive base, establishing a breezy vibe for most parts of the ‘Timeless’ ride. The Yung Willis-produced “LCND” energises the album’s final run, which is then amplified through a remastered “Champion Sound.”
In all of this, it is evident Davido has been working behind the scenes. ‘Timeless’ smoothens the musical and structural cracks of his previous albums, showing how fame has been shaped not only by his music career, but by the very many strings he has to his bow. Its variance in thematic material can be lacking, but Davido more than makes up with the assured warmth on most records. No doubt watching him interpret them to live music would be interesting, and with the model of ‘Timeless’, the future shines with great promise. For now, take a bow, David. You’ve conquered the Goliath of your career.
In a reversal of events at the turn of the 2000s, Afropop is profoundly reshaping the texture of music...
Over the last two and a half years, some of Afropop’s biggest stars have denounced the genre to advance...
Over the last two and a half years, some of Afropop’s biggest stars have denounced the genre to advance their personal agendas. In a wide-ranging interview from 2023 with Apple Music’s Zane Lowe just ahead of the release of his last album, ‘I Told Them…,’ Burna Boy derided Afrobeats for a perceived lack of contextual subject matter. “Afrobeats, as people call it, it’s mostly about nothing, literally nothing,” he said. “There’s no substance to it. Nobody’s talking about anything. It’s just a great time, it’s an amazing time. But at the end of the day, life is not an amazing time.”
Just a few months later, Nigerian music superstar, Wizkid, also disavowed the genre, claiming that he was not an Afrobeats act and that his then-forthcoming album, ‘Morayo,’ would not be an Afrobeats album as he considered the genre – and the classification it infers – too limiting for the type of music he made. Predictably, fans were incensed by both artists’ stances and the casual dismissal of the genre that their statements invited. What was almost lost in the whirlwind of that discourse is that for all the attempts to capture the totality of African music under the loaded ‘Afrobeats’ label, African music has never been just one thing; and, in that spirit, Afrobeats itself has always been all-welcoming of a multiplicity of influences and styles.
From its earliest iteration, Afropop has always been a potpourri of sounds that took influences from various parts of the Black diaspora and distilled them with an African sensibility. The work of early Afrobeats pioneers like Junior and Pretty is a direct descendant of the burgeoning Hip-Hop blueprint of the ‘80s; while the early 2000s popularity of Ajegunle-based rabble-rousers like Daddy Showkey, Danfo Drivers, and African China occurred tangentially to the rising profile of Reggae on a global scale. The mid-2000s to early 2010s saw the arrival of several dulcet-toned singers like Banky W and Tiwa Savage rooted in the R&B and Soul traditions, introducing a slicker dimension to Nigerian popular music. As always, homegrown stars adapted these foreign styles for their own market while continuing to work on a distinctive style that centered genuine indigenous expression and ingenuity.
Over the years, the fruit of those experiments has ripened to produce a scene that’s bustling with life and talent. As the genre has attained global attention, many sub-genres have come to the fore, showcasing the depth of African music on a global scale. If Wizkid’s sonorous melodies and unbeatable charisma made him the sun of Afrobeats in the 2010s, Olamide’s militaristic bars and Pop anthems rooted in their street sensibilities mark him out as the genre’s moon. It was on Oamide’s back that a nascent indigenous rap circuit rested. Taking the mantle of DaGrin, the Bariga-raised rapper who helped institutionalize rapping in Nigerian languages with cult classics like “Eni Duro” and “Voice Of The Street.” Along with the effort of other stars like Reminisce, Phyno, Lil Kesh, and CDQ, the indigenous rap movement gained steam and, recognizing the Nigerian market’s zest for melodies, soon morphed into Street-Pop, a distinct hybridization of local genres like Fuji, Apala, and Highlife.
Inspired by the work of their forebearers, a new crop of artists have taken Street-Pop to new heights. Zlatan and Naira Marley served as a transitory generation; together with Rexxie, they patented a more melodic take on Street-Pop while infusing a devil-may-care disposition that launched them to the top of Nigerian music. It is fitting that Olamide was the one to hand the baton to Asake, the biggest Street-Pop star of the moment. Similar to the YBNL head’s legendary album run, Asake has released three albums and one extended play in three years, each coming out to a world paying more and more attention to his work. Impressively, Asake has also established himself as a global touring star, regularly playing sold out arena concerts across the world with a music style that is rooted in Yoruba oral tradition.
Asake is not spreading the Street-Pop gospel alone, though. Ikorodu star, Seyi Vibez, has also grabbed mainstream attention for his gritty take on the genre. Initially a divisive figure, his 2023 song, “Different Pattern,” saw him reach a new level of cultural relevance in 2024 and his new extended play, ‘Children Of Africa,’ arrived in February 2025, marking a new era in his career. The yearning for a reclamation of cultural heritage that has created a Street-Pop golden era has not evaded other parts of Nigeria. Shallipopi’s drawling, sprawled-out sound mimics the playful pulse of South-South pidgin while Jeriq, hailing from Nigeria’s South-East, has emerged as one of Nigeria’s most acclaimed rappers. Outside Nigeria, there’s a yearning in Ghana to preserve the purity and history of its Highlife genre, an elemental component of Afrobeats. British-Ghanaian producer, Juls’, ‘PALMWINE DIARIES’ and ‘High Life Sessions,’ both pulsate with the beguiling riffs of the storied genre while the work of Nigerian brother-duo, The Cavemen, is reintroducing Eastern Nigerian highlife to a new generation of listeners.
A youth-led zest for exploration outside the framework of Afropop has also produced a sub-culture that rejects the tenets of mainstream conservatism. Beginning as a band of friends and collaborators who prioritized freewheeling experimentation, Alte music has emerged as one of the most important sonic evolutions of the last two decades. First championed by OG pioneers like DRB Lasgidi, LOS, and Show Dem Camp, the Alte community drew in left-field thinkers and madcap auteurs setting the stage for a new generation of stars to emerge from the depths of SoundCloud circa 2016. In the hands of stars like Odunsi (The Engine), Cruel Santino, and Lady Donli, the Alte experiment reached an unprecedented level of critical and commercial success.
Odunsi’s ‘rare.,’ throbbing with influences from ‘70s Disco and Funk, sits in the canon of great Nigerian debuts and Lady Donli’s ‘Enjoy Your Life’ artfully melded Folk music with Afrobeat and Soul across its 15 tracks. Taken along with the work of producers like GMK and Genio Bambino, these acts built a community that successfully created the blueprint for a sound that reflected the tensions and joys of younger Nigerians who saw life in a specific fashion. It even took flight beyond the borders of Nigeria with a young Amaarae cutting her teeth working alongside some of the most prominent names in the Alte community. The inventiveness and clarity of vision that the community prioritises is evident across both of the Ghanaian-American artist’s albums, ‘The Angel You Don’t Know’ and ‘Fountain Baby.’
In a reversal of events at the turn of the 2000s when Afropop was heavily influenced by outside sounds and genres, music from the continent is profoundly reshaping the texture of music outside its borders. Much like how the Windrush Generation and other immigrants from the West Indies helped to introduce Britain to Reggae, Dancehall and Soca, generations of African immigrants are making music that signals their African heritage, with Afropop as a base influence. The rise in popularity of African sounds has helped UK artists mesh the lingo and sonics from the continent into their work, creating a new genre referred to as Afroswing. Taking influences from Afrobeat, Dancehall, and Grime, Afroswing is distinctive for its use of lyrics from Africa with British rapper, J Hus, credited as one of its pioneers. Songs like J Hus’ “Did You See,” Ramz’s “Barking,” and Not3s’s “Aladdin” signal to the sound of the homeland and speak to Afrobeats’ incredible stride to global popularity as a base reference point for global Black music.
Nearly a decade out from “One Dance,” the Drake, Wizkid, and Kyla collab that pushed Afropop into a different stratosphere, the genre is in safe hands with several stars emerging across different sub-genres that speak to our past, present and future. It is perhaps more than the pioneers imagined when they were making music all those years ago, but all the roads have led here to Afropop being a global sensation that offers various forms of expression to a watching world. There are no limitations on what can be done within the genre, that sense of open-endedness and possibility was always our strength, and it’s why Afropop will stand the test of time.
Ahead of the release of ‘The Breeze Grew A Fire,’ we sat down with Mereba to discuss putting together her...
Mereba exudes a palpable warmth. When she speaks, as she did with me via Zoom one evening in late January,...
Mereba exudes a palpable warmth. When she speaks, as she did with me via Zoom one evening in late January, she’s gentle and perceptive, speaking in soft, meandering passages that paint an intimate portrait of the LA-based singer’s mind. Similarly, her stirring discography, which dates back to 2013, evokes a keen sense of serene intimacy. “I’m inspired by those little moments in life where you’re like “Ah that’s really beautiful,”” she tells me halfway into our conversation, making sense of the ethereal quality that her music possesses. “It could be an interaction between two people, it could be something in nature, it could be a memory I have. Those are the moments that drive me to go get my guitar and write a song.”
The 34-year-old singer, songwriter, producer and instrumentalist has been writing songs for as long as she can remember. Growing up between Alabama, North Carolina and Pennsylvania, as well as an unintended one-year stint in her father’s native Ethiopia, ensured that Mereba picked up a wealth of influences that would go on to inform her richly diverse and understated sound. After years living across multiple cities, she finally settled in Atlanta where she became a staple in the city’s indie music circuit. “There, I met my peers who I made music with and are still my peers to this day. People like J.I.D, 6LACK and my crew. We all were just coming up during a really rich time of music there so that was a big part of my journey,” she reminisces fondly.
In the years that Mereba lived in Atlanta, she released 2013’s ‘Room For Living’ and ‘Kotton House Vol 1,’ two extended plays that neatly outline the foundations of the balmy and eclectic style that she would perfect years later, leaving ample room for her soothing vocals and evocative songwriting to shine. She also joined Spillage Village, a musical collective that comprises others like Earth Gang and JID, contributing to various releases like ‘Bears Like This Too Much’ and the critically acclaimed ‘Spilligion.’ Following her time in Atlanta, Mereba moved again, this time to Los Angeles, where she signed her first major record deal and released her debut album ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out.’
Since the release of ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out’ in 2019, Mereba has continued to hone her unique sound, continually experimenting and ironing out the rich textures of her temperate style on subsequent releases like 2021’s ‘AZEB.’ Ahead of the release of ‘The Breeze Grew A Fire,’ her first project in four years, we sat down with the LA-based singer to discuss the story behind her well-received debut, her various influences as well as the process of putting together her highly-anticipated new album.
This is your first album in about five years. How are you feeling?
I feel really excited. I’m definitely excited to give my music back to the world again. I’m also ready for connection, performing the songs, and sharing these new stories.
You’ve been making music for a long time now, but do you still feel any nerves before a major release like this?
I don’t know if it’s nerves. I think I feel anxious about the fact that the music is being released and people are going to hear it. But I guess I’m anxious in a good way for them to hear the music, to get to experience what I’ve been toiling away at and what I’ve been excited about for a while. It’s more like a good anxiety.
I think the first time I came across your music was in 2019. I heard “Heatwave” with 6LACK off of your debut album ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out.’ I believe that album was sort of a breakthrough moment for you. Can you tell me a bit about how it came together?
That album coming together was quite a journey. I started ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out’ years before it came out. I had left Atlanta and moved to L.A at this point. I didn’t know so many people when I just moved and so I was kind of starting over in certain ways. I was writing a lot of songs that felt really powerful to me but they were sonically different from what I used to make before. I was also learning how to produce, I was in Ableton learning how to make beats and just produce my music. Because I didn’t know so many people, I couldn’t outsource some of these things so I was just experimenting on my sound on my own.
Over the years, the community that I was a part of in Atlanta, everyone started finding their way in music but we still stayed closely in touch even though I had moved to L.A. I featured on a song with J.I.D and that kind of got me back into making music properly again because at that point, I was working random jobs, my car got taken and I had to start taking the bus to work. I was living a completely different life. It was my friends that put me back in the zone. They would invite me to sessions and just remind me that I wanted to do this music thing. Then I started putting together songs I had made over the years like “Sandstorm” and “Heatwave” with 6LACK which we made way before the album came out and even my solo songs like “Black Truck.” Most of the songs on that album had come from that period where I was struggling but knowing I was meant for music somehow.
How many years did it take to put your first album together?
I’ll say about four to five years. They say you write your first album for your whole life. “Highway 10” is the first song I made on that album. I made that song in 2014 and the album came out in 2019. In the years before the album came out I was signed to a bad record deal and I couldn’t get out, I couldn’t release music. All I could do was just create and that ended up forcing me to just hone in on my sound.
After your debut, you released an EP titled ‘AZEB’ two years later. Listening to that project, it felt lighter than your debut which was a lot darker and more melancholic. Do you remember what headspace you were in when you made this EP?
I was definitely feeling a lot lighter when I was making ‘AZEB.’ I felt like I had shed a lot of the weight that I carried during all those years of uncertainty. I was in a much more hopeful place when I was making one-half of the project. The other half was made during the early days of the pandemic so it was like a mix. Songs like “Rider,”“Beretta,” and “My Moon,” those songs represent beautiful, light type feelings to me while some of the other songs like “News Come,” and “Another Kin” are more intense lyrically and sonically.
Let’s talk about ‘The Breeze Grew A Fire.’ How did you land on that as the title for your second album?
The making of that title was different from how I titled my other projects. It didn’t come to me right away and I decided to not force it, I believed it was going to come eventually. So the making of this album has always felt very gentle. In contrast to what I had been through for so many years, I felt like I was in a much softer space creating this album and this feeling of a breeze just kept coming to me. It was also kind of like springtime going into the summer and the idea of a breeze became so prominent that I was going to title the album breeze. But as I continued on the journey of finishing it, it felt like the album was saying something a bit more. I realized that the album wasn’t just about all these gentle feelings and relationships I’m singing about like friendship, family, and my son but these things also inspire me to live with purpose, conviction and to have a spark in me. Things that make people “strong” are inspired by these little moments and experiences that we have and less by the force of trying to make a fire forcefully.
You co-produced “Phone Me” and “Counterfeit,” the lead singles for this project and you’ve also produced a lot of your older stuff as well. I’m curious to know how taking the reins on the production side affects your music-making process in general.
I got really into producing during that period when I felt lost in life. I got into Ableton, playing the guitar on my computer, sampling my voice and just experimenting. So songs that I produced from ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out’ like “Sandstorm” and “Kinfolk,” were me experimenting a lot with learning how to produce. With this new album, the first two singles were heavily produced by my co-producer Sam Hoffman. When he sends me things that I like, I’ll add things to them and it could be the opposite as well where I produce a song and I’ll have him or another friend add something to it. That process is personal because I could completely be in my world and get the feelings that I want to convey out through production as well as writing the song out lyrically. When I unlocked that part of myself, it felt like my whole life that’s what I’ve been wanting to do. To be able to make the music arrangements and compositions come to life.
A lot of the time I would start with a simple beat or drum loop and I’ll build chords over it with my guitar. I experiment with writing when it’s bare and then fill in the production as I write the song. They’re a very interwoven process.
I’ve read that you’re heavily influenced by legendary acts like Stevie Wonder and Lauryn Hill. Are there other acts that inspire you when it comes to the production side of music specifically?
That’s a great question. In certain ways, I’ll say it’s the same people that I look up to because most of them produce. Interestingly enough, what I love most about these musicians is that they are very involved in the sonics of the music they’re making. So the people that you mentioned, like Stevie Wonder who mentored me and encouraged me to continue on the path of producing my music versus being a singer who works with a producer. I feel like it’s important to the language of an artist to at least know how to contribute in some way to the sonics of their music.
I’ll say Quincy Jones is the blueprint for me just because of the span of work that he did. He’s the concept of producer I’d like to work towards in my life.
Do you have a favourite memory from creating ‘The Breeze Grew A Fire’?
There are a few. There was a time when I made this song on the album called “Hawk.” The song is dedicated to a really dear friend of mine who passed away unexpectedly in 2021. It was not easy to write and when I first wrote the song, it was sad, slow and reflective of the whole situation. I listened to it after I made it and I started thinking about my friend and the things that he liked. He was a very expressive and hilarious person who loved dancing and dance music. At that moment a light bulb went up and I felt like the song needed to be more of a dance song because I wanted to make something that he would love and not something he would think is corny. It was a really beautiful moment musically and personally.
If there’s one thing you would like your fans or listeners to take away from ‘A Breeze Grew A Fire,’ what would it be?
I hope it brings a sense of comfort and warmth. I also hope it tells a clear story of what matters to me. I just really hope it makes people feel better, that’s really it. I think it’s one of those albums where it’s a personal album for me and I think it’s meant for personal moments too. I hope it lives in people’s lives in comforting ways.
Asake broke the internet when he unveiled his new tattoos earlier this year, and he’s doubling down while...
Asake broke the internet when he unveiled his new tattoos earlier this year, and he’s doubling down while...
Asake broke the internet when he unveiled his new tattoos earlier this year, and he’s doubling down while ushering in the GIRAN Republic era. On “Military”, Asake ditches the log drums & Amapiano-inspired beats that paved the way to his rapid ascent to stardom. Rapping over stripped back production dominated by a live drum loop, he picks up where he left off sonically on ‘LUNGU BOY’, drawing inspiration from his Hip-Hop influences, as he delivers a defiant, heartfelt battle-cry to his fans and doubters alike.
For the last few months, rumours have swirled around Asake on the gossip blogs, on everything from who he’s dating to his record label situation to his physical appearance, with fans, critics and disgruntled ex team members all throwing in their two cents. Since his emergence in the limelight, Asake has been a man of few words – we should know, we did his first ever magazine interview back in 2022. But on this track, he addresses the chatter head on, opening the song dismissively rapping “ Awon lo lenu won koma so lo/ Tio ba affect bank me, ko ma soro” loosely translated to “let them keep talking, if it doesn’t affect my bank account, there’s nothing to say”. He goes on to flex his financial muscle above everyone in his “set”, despite being “low-key”, while affirming he could drop an album tomorrow with no tracklist, and it would still slap.
He takes a break from the braggadocio between verses to directly shout out his mentor Olamide, the man who gave him his big break. While it does appear their business relationship may have run its course, the mercurial artist is making it clear he remembers how he got here. The Asake & YBNL run will be studied for years to come. In the midst of the continued rise in global consumption of Nigerian music, Asake hilariously raps “Oyinbo koro lenu mi”, a reminder that he will not be diluting his sound for the benefit of our friends in the West.
Quietly dropping the track exclusively on YouTube & Audiomack a couple of days after the 2025 GRAMMY ceremony, in which he was nominated for the second year running, this response may have gone over the heads of those who lurk in the comment sections of the gossip blogs. But it is the most Asake response we could have expected, isn’t it? On his own terms, in his own native tongue, he pulls no punches as he ushers in a new era of independence.
This morning, Asake released another record, the Magicsticks-produced “WHY LOVE”,which notably comes under his new imprint Giran Republic. Reverting to a more familiar sonic cocktail of pulsating log-drums and choral vocals, he sings melodiously,“You know I’m a Soulja boy, but in your case, I’ll calm down.” The duality of man.
The rumours will keep swirling and people will keep talking, as they tend to do when you reach the heights the Lungu Boy has soared to. And for all the aesthetic change and talk of a new era, it appears Asake is going to continue to do what he has done more consistently than nearly every artist in Nigeria since his mainstream emergence in 2022: drown out the noise with new music.