DeeYasso Lets His Music Do the Talking

One of the more pressing topics of discussion amongst party-goers today is the curious question of why people don’t dance at gatherings anymore. While partying, theoretically, includes other activities like talking to strangers, getting drinks, and conducting business, it is primarily geared towards dancing and living in the moment. 

These days, however, there seems to be more emphasis on these other activities than actual partying. People are doom scrolling on the dancefloor or are more occupied with trying to take the perfect selfie. Enter: True Clrs, a travelling party series launched by Adeola Kofoworade and Menab Tesfu that aims to bring the dance back to the parties by centering on the richness of African sound and the communities that love it. 

“We found that there were a lot of parties in Dallas that had cultures that didn’t encourage dancing or interaction between customers,” Kofoworade tells The NATIVE about the inspiration for True Clrs over a Google Meet conversation in July. “Seeing how parties were being thrown in L.A., New York and other places in Europe, we thought to bring that idea here to Texas.” 

Since its inception in 2023, True Clrs has hosted over 15 editions of its travelling party series across cities in the United States. In addition to a dedicated real-life following that engages with their series, they have also cultivated a robust online presence thanks to their meticulous branding and active CRLS YouTube page that features various thrilling DJ sets. 

Ahead of the latest Houston edition of True Clrs, which featured ODUMODUBLVCK and Sarz headlining the Global Sounds Stage and others like Native SOUND SYSTEM’s DJ Sholz, Lowkey Ade, and Khulumars on DJ duties, we caught up with Adeola Kofoworade to discuss how they’ve managed to position True Clrs as the go-to party series in Texas, what makes them unique, and what their long-term plans are. 

What inspired True Clrs?

We originally started True Clrs about two years ago because we noticed that there was a space in Dallas that we could infiltrate. We found that there were a lot of parties in Dallas that had cultures that didn’t encourage dancing or interaction between customers. That’s something pretty notable down here in the South. In clubs, there are a lot of sections and no big dance floors, so people are stuck in their sections without really interacting with other people. Seeing how parties were being thrown in L.A., New York and other places in Europe, we thought to bring that idea here to Texas.  At first, we started with Afrobeats and Amapiano-centred parties, but then we started branching out to other genres as well. 

How have you been able to position True Clrs as one of the go-to diaspora-focused party series in the U.S, especially in Texas?

We try to be innovative. We always try to make every event better than the last one. So if you came to one of our events the previous month, we try to switch things up and make sure you have a better experience the next time you come. We do this by booking notable DJs from around the country and even around the world. We also started booking a lot more talents. Last year, we had Lancey Foux; we had Sholz, who brought ODUMODUBLVCK; and we also had Skyla Tyla. This year, we’re looking to do more of that so we can always give our audience a notable experience. 

How do you balance catering to the African diaspora with appealing to a broader audience that might be unfamiliar with the music and experience? 

There are a couple of ways we try to do this. First, since we have monthly events, we try to switch between different genres and vibes. So let’s say, one month we have an Afrobeats and Amapiano party, the next month we could switch to this concept that we call the R&B rave. In the R&B rave, we basically play all types of R&B music, whether it’s old, contemporary or alternative, and we curate a rave-like setting. 

We also run this concept where we have like two or three stages playing different genres. We could have one stage playing Amapiano, the other R&B and the other more global sounds. I guess it just depends on the venue we use. But we’re able to offer different experiences even at the same party. 

Are there any other unique elements that set the True Clrs experience apart from other nightlife events?

One of our main appeals is recording DJ content. I know DJ content has become saturated recently, but what separates us is that a lot of our content is very genuine. It’s not made up or staged. We get real-time reactions from people. A lot of the time, people don’t even know they’re being filmed. Our content makes us notable, and it’s helped push our brand forward.

Since you began True Clrs, how have you been able to cultivate a strong online presence as well as a thriving community in real life? 

With our online presence, it’s really been our content that has helped put us out there. We’ve had a couple of reels or YouTube sets go viral, and that’s definitely helped our online presence. Also, just being the kind of people we are, we take our time when it comes to branding True Clrs. We get a lot of feedback from people regarding our content, and we take it into account moving forward. For our real-life community, my partner and I had already been heavily involved in the entertainment space and the African community here before we began True Clrs. So we got a lot of support when we first started, and we’ve just kept building from there. 

What’s the long-term vision for True Clrs? Are there any plans to expand into other U.S. cities or even international markets? 

Definitely. Last year, we had our first international event in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. My partner was up there for a holiday, and we decided to throw an event there. In the future, we do plan to expand to other countries, whether in Africa or Europe. With our connections with talents like Lancey Foux, Skyla Tyla, we’re also looking to see if we can put together festivals. That’s what’s on the horizon for True Colors. 

What would you say to someone who’s never been to a True Clrs party? What should they expect, and why should they come?

Our goal is community curation through music. So what I would tell someone who’s never been to a True Clrs party is they should come with an open mind. They should trust our DJs because they might hear songs they’ve never heard before and still be able to have a good time. Also, while we don’t force people to interact, we encourage people to interact and dance while listening to good DJs.

There are only a few artists in Afropop with the range, longevity, and lustre that Tiwa Savage has. Since she emerged on the Nigerian music scene in 2011, Ms. Savage has set an inimitable standard in terms of platforming the point of view of women at the pinnacle of Afropop, working to show that women are multi-dimensional and layered, capable of going through the motions of joy, angst, distress, and optimism just as much as the next person. By unapologetically leaning into the very minutiae of what makes her tick as a woman, she’s become a fan favourite and an undisputed legend of the genre.

Impressively, she’s done this while making great strides sonically. From the throbbing afropop of ‘Once Upon A Time’ to the swaggering house-inflected triumph of ‘R.E.D,’ and the dense polyrhythmic structure of  ‘Celia,’ Tiwa Savage has continued to tincture her R&B-adjacent sound with influences from home and abroad. It is an accurate reflection of Tiwa Savage as a person: grounded by her Lagos heritage but shaped by global influences. For the last six months, she has been talking up her forthcoming fourth album, describing it as a full-throttle return to the R&B sound that was her stock in trade before she returned to Nigeria in 2011 to establish herself as an Afropop powerhouse. 

In April, she released the emotive “You4Me,” clearly establishing the direction for her new album, ‘This One Is Personal.’ Produced by Mystro Sugar, “You4Me” put a fresh spin on Tamia’s ’90s classic “So Into You” with percussion work by Magicsticks adding a decidedly Afropop sheen to the song. Upping the ante, Tiwa Savage returned with “On The Low,” a delightful sung-rap bop featuring British-Nigerian rapper, Skepta. Like “You4Me” before it, “On The Low” is steeped in R&B tradition, finding Tiwa Savage pining after a love that feels like a taboo or forbidden pleasure. Produced by Rymez and Mystro, it is a surefire pointer that Tiwa Savage wasn’t joking when she said ‘This One Is Personal’ had overt R&B influences. 

After over a decade helming some of the most romantic cuts in Afropop, Tiwa Savage’s dalliance with R&B is helping to propel her artistry to new heights. Just as the soundtrack for ‘Water & Garri,’ her debut as a filmmaker, pared down universal emotions like longing, desire, and anxiety into digestible bits on standouts like “I Need You,” “Lost Time,” “Love O,” her latest song chronicles the intangibles of a romance that’s quite not out in the open. “I know you want to link on the low / We have to stay discreet, you don’t know,”  she sweetly intones on the song’s hook, clearly obfuscating the true status of the relationship but revealing just enough to let her listeners know that the dynamic of this relationship is not the usual. 

It’s a premise that is established from the opening lines of the song when Skepta breezily starts with an offer to travel, presumably after being unavailable for a while. “Yeah, I’m off tour, we should celebrate / Dedicate some time for you, baby, it’s a date,” he says. It sets off a sequence where Tiwa Savage admits to being annoyed by the complexities of this relationship. 

Still, there’s something about the thrills of these tenuous romances that keeps one tethered to them, and Tiwa Savage manages to capture the dilemma of the situation when she sings, “Boy, you make me stressed, you don’t know / Then you send me sweet texts on the low.” Her measured delivery and tonal inflections lend an air of believability to the story that would be inaccessible in lesser hands. 

It helps that even as she revisits her R&B origins, the singer still maintains a strong connection to the sonic references that made her an Afropop juggernaut. There is seriously impressive percussion across “On The Low” with enough Yoruba ad-libs sprinkled across to remind any doubters that this is a Nigerian star paying homage to an elemental part of her evolution without losing touch with her roots. It sets the stage for This One Is Personal’ perfectly. 

Listen to “On The Low” here. 

The world first discovered Louddaaa’s artistry on Ayra Starr’s eponymous debut EP, where he produced three of the five tracks. “Away,” his first collaboration with Mavins Records, became Starr’s breakthrough, gaining over one million Spotify streams by April 2021 and establishing him as a force behind the boards. 

His signature lies in the spaces between sounds: synths that drift like the morning mist of Lagos, percussion that falls with the gentle persistence of rain, and arrangements so delicate they seemed to float. On Starr’s debut album, ‘19 & Dangerous,’ Louddaaa’s evolution unfurled across five tracks: “Cast,” “Beggie Beggie,” “Lonely”, “Amin,” and “In Between.” By then, his work had blossomed, the beats becoming muscular without losing their supple grace, and the melodies flowing like liquid silk across each composition. Now, in 2025, the quiet kid from Lagos has found his voice.

Like many great artists, Louddaaa’s calling found him. Walking home from a church rehearsal at just eleven years old, he experienced what he describes as divine revelation. “God showed me that I was going to be a producer,” he says during our Google Meet conversation on a chilly Sunday afternoon in mid-July. 

Born Kehinde Alabi, he grew up in Oshodi, Lagos, where he had his basic education. At age nine, his family moved to Ejigbo, the part of the city he would come to call home. A true Lagosian, he traces his ancestral roots back to Ekiti through his father and Osun through his mother. He’s one of three children—and a twin. Music wasn’t a profession in his household. As a child, he’d sneak out to church rehearsals to play, fearful of the punishment that might follow if his father found out.

At age 11, didn’t know what the term “music producer” meant. He simply knew that his destiny lay in creating music. The calling required preparation, and unknowingly, he had been getting ready for it since the age of seven. While his siblings attended children’s church, he would linger behind the drummer during services, soaking in the rhythms. Eventually, at nine, he took up the role himself, becoming one of the church drummers. 

As he grew older, he added the keyboard to his repertoire, driven by instinct. “I’m the kind of person who likes to learn new things,” he explains, excitement audible in his voice. “Everything was just God preparing me for production.” It would take some time for the prophecy to come to pass because prophecies, even divine ones, require patience. 

Louddaaa’s earliest musical influences came from home: his father played a lot of gospel, Apala, and Baba Ara, while his mother was a huge fan of Tope Alabi. Growing up, he gravitated toward artists like 2Face and Styl-Plus, D’Banj and Don Jazzy, who left a lasting impression on him. As a professional drummer throughout much of his young adulthood, he was exposed to a wide range of genres, learning to adapt his playing style for different artists and audiences.

In his first year at the Federal University of Technology, Akure, Louddaaa began telling anyone who would listen that he was a producer despite having never actually produced a single track. The universe, it seemed, was listening too. In his second year, tired of Louddaaa’s endless talk about production without action, a friend put a laptop in his hands. The gift came loaded with FL Studio, a software that would become his gateway to actualization. 

That night marked the first of countless all-nighters spent hunched over glowing screens, crafting beats while his classmates slept. His hunger was insatiable. His makeshift production journey began when he salvaged a pair of old speakers from his dad and set them up in his school dorm. With nothing but earphones and those aging speakers, he started calling up friends who could sing, drafting them into his self-declared label. In 2016, he officially founded his record label, Tal Entertainment. Throughout his years in university, he visited local studios, absorbing knowledge through internships and observation.

Armed with an Industrial Design degree and an unfulfilled musical prophecy, Louddaaa graduated from school in 2017 into a world that had no immediate use for either. He found himself in Port Harcourt, interning as a sound engineer, still chasing the dream, just from a different angle. Then fate intervened. In 2019, he moved back to Lagos, and not long after, a friend forwarded him a job listing: Mavin Records was looking for a recording engineer. It wasn’t his dream of music production, but it was a door, and Louddaaa walked through it. 

If you had told him then that he would one day craft hits for Ayra Starr, he would have laughed at the possibility. In 2020, he was simply the sound engineer who stayed late, making beats when no one was watching. He expected nothing in return. But the universe rewards persistence in mysterious ways. One evening, as Louddaaa lost himself in a rhythm that had been haunting him all day, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Don Jazzy paused at the door, drawn by the loop spilling from the speakers.

“Who owns this beat?” he asked.

“I’m just playing around with it,” Louddaaa replied, perhaps too casually for a moment that would reshape his entire trajectory.

Don Jazzy wanted Mavin Records’ newest signee, Ayra Starr, to try something over it. By the next day, she had, and history was quietly being written in that Mavin studio. His first collaboration with Ayra Starr never saw the light of day, but it did something else: everyone who heard it believed. “She started sending me ideas to help her make beats,” he recalls. At the time, he couldn’t fathom why.

This period of his life was Louddaaa at his most vulnerable: a producer who didn’t yet trust the title. No one had ever paid for his beats. His credentials consisted of a childhood prophecy and an ambitious university label. When the melody that would become “Away” first whispered through his headphones, he had no idea he was architecting his breakthrough. “I didn’t even know why Ayra wanted me to produce for her,” he admits, the bewilderment still fresh in his voice years later.

“Away” soared. It became number one on the charts, earning millions of streams locally and internationally, morphing into a cultural moment that transformed two careers simultaneously. For Ayra, it was stardom. For Louddaaa, it was validation on the grandest scale possible. The prophecy had flesh now, and the producer who once questioned his abilities finally understood what everyone else had already seen. “Away” was his creative genesis, not just the song that introduced him to the world, but the voice that said: You can do so much more. That voice has since become a roar, leading to collaborations with Afropop royalty including Davido, CKay, Simi, Ladipoe, and Lojay.

The origin of his name dates back to when he worked as a sound engineer at Mavin Records. Kenny (as he was called) preferred to keep his speakers at a modest volume, but the artists and managers around him wanted high volumes. “Kenny, turn it louder!” they’d urge, again and again. Louddaaa stuck, first as a joke, then as a brand. Now, a Louddaaa instrumental is instantly recognizable by his vocal tag and the emotional core running through the music. He calls his sound “soulful,” and it’s a quality that is traceable across his work. 

But perhaps the producer’s most intriguing dimension is his growing intersection between music and film. “Film is my retirement plan,” he used to tell himself until a conversation with director Kemi Adetiba reframed that thinking. “She asked me, ‘Why make it your retirement plan when you can start now?’” The question stayed with him, especially since scoring films had been a long-held dream. So when director Afolabi Olalekan approached him to work on the score for ‘Freedom Way,’ it felt like destiny.

The score came naturally to Louddaaa, as Freedom Way draws from his own lived experience with police brutality. That personal resonance shaped the project’s emotional core. Since its completion, the film has premiered on prestigious international stages, including the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), the Red Sea International Film Festival in Saudi Arabia, and a screening in New York. On July 18, 2025, it finally made its debut in Nigerian cinemas and is now available for public viewing. For his work on ‘Freedom Way,’ Louddaaa earned a nomination for Best Score/Music at the 2025 AMVCAs. 

Louddaaa is part of a compelling wave of Nigerian producers and artists expanding their creative reach beyond the charts, venturing into film scoring and sound design. This cross-pollination of talent has been brewing for years. Take Falz, for instance. Known for his genre-blending sound, he’s also made a name for himself onscreen. His breakout role in Jenifa’s Diary earned him an AMVCA in 2016, followed by appearances in hit films like Chief Daddy, Merry Men, and 10 Days in Sun City. Tiwa Savage joined this cross-medium movement in 2024 with her film debut, Water & Garri, named after her 2021 EP. The project served as a visual interpretation of the emotions and themes embedded in the music.

For Louddaaa, the pull toward film is rooted in a desire for deeper expression. “Music and film go hand in hand,” he explains. “That’s why we shoot music videos, we’re trying to tell a story, to express ourselves.”It’s this understanding that positions him not as a producer dabbling in film but as a storyteller expanding his canvas, recognizing that some emotions require more than three minutes and a hook to fully unfold.

Today, Louddaaa’s father speaks of his son with pride, often referring to him as “the big producer.” “My dad carries it on his head now, literally,” he says, half in awe, half amused.

A typical day in Louddaaa’s life includes hitting the gym, working on music, and reading self-help books. “My favorite book depends on the problem I’m trying to solve at the time,” he says. It was while trying to navigate one of those problems that he decided—on a whim—to create a few ideas for Davido. At the time, he didn’t even know the global superstar was working on a new album that would become ‘Five.’ He sent the ideas to Davido’s manager without overthinking it. To his surprise, Davido liked them. “Next thing I knew, David started following me on Instagram.” 

Louddaaa went on to produce “Anything” and “10 Kilo” on the album, both tracks carrying the signature elements of a Louddaaa production: emotive, featherlight, and breezy. There comes a moment in an artist’s journey when the work begins to speak louder than the name, and Louddaaa was honing in on that moment.

Louddaaa sees Nigeria’s distinctive sonic identity as a responsibility, something to preserve, evolve, and carry forward through both music and cinema. “It’s a blessing that I’m able to contribute to the evolving nature of African music and film,” he says. The future he imagines reaches far beyond mere music scores. “I don’t plan to wait a long time before directing films,” he says with the same certainty that once made him claim the title producer long before the world agreed. It doesn’t sound like ambition; it sounds like purpose, stepping into his next chapter. That sense of purpose has become his anchor, transforming what might otherwise be an anxiety-laced career into a stress-free one.

“I don’t enter a session to make a number-one song,” he says. “I enter to tell a story.” That distinction defines everything he does. The charts might applaud his work, but his heart is tuned to something deeper. “I don’t know how long this moment will last, but I do know I want to contribute something. I want my work to touch someone’s life.”