JELEEL! Will Not Be Boxed
Beyond the digital realm, JELEEL! is resonating with a cult following that craves cultural representation without creative limits.
Beyond the digital realm, JELEEL! is resonating with a cult following that craves cultural representation without creative limits.
“JELEEL, yeeeah!” Belched out like a battle cry on the opening sequence of “RHUDE GYAL!”–so strong a contender for song-of-the-summer that it got a facelift in the form of a coveted Darkoo remix –the piercing adlib welcomes you to the wild and wonderful world of JELEEL! If you’ve been doom-scrolling at all lately, then this trademark tag has likely burrowed itself in your brain like an earworm, much like Rema’s anthemic “another banger!” or J Hus’ iconic “Hustla, baby.”
If not? Here’s everything you need to know about the Nigerian-American taking the internet by storm, one chaotic TikTok at a time. Buckle up, it’s about to be a bumpy ride. Enter Abdul Jeleel Yussuf, better known as JELEEL!, the stage-flipping, larger-than-life rapper, singer, and producer who has become Gen Z’s beloved Boy Next Door almost overnight. With a combined fan base of 5.2 million followers, built almost entirely online, JELEEL! has established a chronically online presence.
On Instagram, he can be found taking For You Pages by storm, appearing often shirtless and screaming, flipping through the algorithm with raw, unfiltered energy. Over on TikTok, he’s baked a stroke-of-genius strategy into his promo rollout: injecting his explosive tracks in an unrelenting stream of viral content and trending videos. No label budget. No formula. Just pure vibes, and it’s working.
Standing tall at six-feet-two, the 29-year-old Rhode Island native is gearing up to be Africa’s next giant. A musical nomad, his sound seems to reside somewhere in ‘The Upside Down,’ a wacky blend of Rap that’s sometimes Trap, rage that rocks and rolls, and Punk that is simultaneously Afropop. Diasporic as it is homegrown, he stitches together fever-pitch emo vocals with Yoruba and English, seamlessly bridging his two worlds together. His visuals drip in nostalgic, Nollywood steeze with oiled-up, brown-skin baddies taking centre stage as love interests embracing a youthful, Y2K aesthetic.
Beyond the digital realm, JELEEL! is resonating with a cult following that craves cultural representation without creative limits. His presence is raw, his sound is rebellious, and his ascent is proof of what a new generation of African artists can achieve: a rallying movement for the misfits who seek to break the mould. One that chases the off-the-cuff approach over clout, raging against the machine of the mainstream to foster a new wave and an alternate worldview. JELEEL!’s campaign is fun, quirky, culturally rooted, and unapologetically loud.
First off, who is JELEEL!?
JELEEL! is…Jeleel, yeah! Jeleel is a unique character. He’s a glitch in life.
Why do you say that?
Because people don’t understand me, but they understand me. I’m a juxtaposition. When I’m singing on the track “BANANA!,” “O por, o por, o por,” it shouldn’t make sense cos I’m singing so high, but I’m this big guy. I think people are l still trying to figure me out. They’re like: “Who is he? Where did he come from? Why does he sound like that? Why is he big? How can he backflip? Where is he?” I like that, though, because I don’t want to be too accessible. You see me and then you don’t, almost like a superhero.
How does it feel to be a glitch in the music industry?
I feel like God put me on this Earth to fuck shit up in a good way, you know? I tweeted something the other day like: “Can you make it as a global act if you don’t have a machine behind you?” A lot of people were like, “No, you can’t nowadays.” Some people were like, “Yeah, you.” JELEEL! is like an anti-hero in the music industry. He shows love to everybody, but at the same time, he’s still aware of who he is. JELEEL! doesn’t make sense, but he does.
Your whole aesthetic feels like one big throwback to simpler times. Who were some of your favourite steeze icons growing up?
I’m a ’90s baby, so I like Y2K stuff a lot. I loved watching WWE. Jeff Hardy and Rey Mysterio. I loved their style. Jeff Hardy always rocked some crazy clothes. A lot of mesh, a lot of JNCO jeans, he was always on some punk shit and I loved that. I loved watching all these Nigerian guys like Danfo Drivers, D’Banj, and Terry G. I love what they wore. They had these crazy wrap-around shades that were rimless, and they always had the big ass earrings on. I love that style. I feel it’s slowly coming back.
How would you describe your sound?
Very futuristic. Growing up, I listened to 50 Cent, DMX, but also a lot of the punk guys: Sum 41, Limp Bizkit, Paramore, and Blink 182. My sound is versatile. It’s a mix of punk, a mix of Afro, a mix of disco, R&B, and maybe some trap as well. It can range from a very high pitch to a low alto. I don’t think anybody sounds like me. I’m like a unicorn; I don’t feel I’m underground. I don’t fit into any space. I’m kind of just in my world.
You’ve been leaning a lot more into Afro-inspired sounds while still keeping that high-energy Rage DNA. What’s driving this sonic evolution?
Because I was doing the rage stuff before this, people were so shocked like: “Oh, how did he switch to this [Afro-fusion]?” And do it successfully, and be independent. I feel like I can always change my sound when I want. It’s like a superhero power. I can always shape shift. That’s not easy to do, but if I could do it once, I could do it again and again.
You’ve built a massive following independently, with no major label backing. What inspired your DIY approach?
Every time I would work with a label or anything like that, it never would work. But every time I do it myself, it works for some reason. I think your creative vision is between you and God, and when you get a label in between that, that kind of disrupts that; you’re just doing yourself a disservice. It should never be that. I’m a creative, and I need it to just be me, God, and the masses.
Your TikTok strategy went off. Was it planned or instinctual, and how do you see social media as part of your artistry?
Thank God for TikTok. It’s a really good algorithm that caters to people who might like the music. I was just posting memes on my music, because I felt like a lot of people needed to hear it; they didn’t know about it, and it was a way to get it out. Even from the US, being able to attack the UK or Africa is crazy. Because how are you doing that? It’s kind of crazy.
What’s something you wish people knew about your story so far?
Doing this independently, it’s not easy. People just assume, “Because he has a million followers, he’s rich, he’s popping.” It’s not like I have an investor giving me money. Some days I won’t eat. Some days, we have to sleep in a car. Even now, I just came to London on a whim because I saw “RHUDE GYAL!” was connecting. So I said, let me just come here and show face. You never know what could happen. Luckily, Alhamdulillah, it’s working to my advantage.
How important is it for you to create across and connect, both the continent and diaspora?
When I blew up with the diving shit, I felt like a lot of people were telling me who I am and what I should do. I’m an African. I’m Nigerian. So being told to keep making rage music is going against who I am as a person. I come from a Punk background, but love Afro shit. That’s me, that’s who I am. That’s my identity, that’s my core sound. I was even doing Afro shit before the Rave shit. So, I think I’m just going back to who I am as a person. I don’t need to conform; I’ll bring the worlds together. I’m doing what I want to do, and I love that.
How does Nigeria show up in your artistry?
In Nigeria, they love me. I mean, the people do. I don’t think the labels in Nigeria like me. The labels in Nigeria love no one [laughs]. I’m doing my marketing on TikTok, and Nigeria is pay-to-play. So they probably think: “Why is this kid just posting memes to his music, and people are listening and it’s blowing up?”
Honestly, though? Whoever understands the music, they understand it. Music for me is spiritual. I’m a Muslim, so I grew up reading the Quran. When you read the Quran, you’re reading it melodically. Whether I’m talking about nyash shaking or not, it still gives you something… like a feeling.
Talk to me about ‘NYASH WORLDWIDE!’
Yeah, I love nyash [laughs]. I thought about calling my project something else. I was like, people know the word nyash, but it’s not a worldly word. So, I thought, let me make it worldly. It’s not like, too serious, right? People be taking themselves too seriously. It’s a fun project. I’m talking about nyash and sex and gyal and love and summer vibes. So I was like, ‘NYASH WORLDWIDE!,’ that’s fun.
What’s next for JELEEL!?
I want to be the biggest artist I can be, period. And I feel like I could do that. “RHUDE GYAL!” is crossing over slowly, but I need it to be worldwide. So, I’m just really focused on promoting it and getting it to the right places. I want to help people with my music, to give people positive energy. Any way I can help people with that is a blessing. I started making music because I love to make music. It wasn’t for money or anything. I just love to create. I want to just give people hope that: “If Jeleel! could do it, I could do it.” Independently too.