uNder is our monthly column committed to spotlighting the Best New Artists from around our musically diverse continent. Each month, we’ll be taking a step further to highlight the artists featured on uNder by offering in-depth interviews and exclusives about their music, their journey’s and their plans for taking their sound from this side to the world watching.
Personal turmoil is the source of some of the greatest music that’s ever been created. The bridge between what has happened to an artist and representing it on wax is the willingness to share those events and the emotions behind them with the world. By default, artists reflect who they are every time they make music, but it takes a level of intentionality to be vulnerable enough to make and put out vividly honest songs.
Even though he’d been making music for several years, Ghanaian singer, songwriter and producer Lirase only recently began to understand the rigour it takes to let your life experience play an unfiltered role in the process of music creation. The Takorade-born, Accra-raised Lirase got into music through a mix of awe and curiosity, consciously encountering the immersive power of music through a few songs on his sister’s phone, before going on to expand his musical tastes by intently listening to a diverse list of musical acts that included Nelly, Sarkodie, Osibisa, P-Square, M.I Abaga, and more.
By his pre-teens, he had started plotting on how to make music, and by the time he was in senior high school, he’d started “releasing music intermittently.” Under a now-defunct moniker, Tonio, he sang and rapped, alternating between both vocal delivery forms because he “didn’t really create that distinction between being a rapper and a singer,” and he enjoyed letting inspiration lead him down the path of melodies or bars at any given time. As TonioBeatz, he produced for friends and he even helmed an electronic beat tape.
Not long after high school, Lirase gained admission to medical school in Cape Coast, and that meant music took the backseat. It also meant acquiring a wealth of experiences from some of the toughest months of his life. “Honestly, that period between 2020 to middle of 2021, I would describe as a very dark time,” he candidly tells me over a video call, his eyes briefly darting to the ceiling as he starts to recount events. During those months, he had to deal with being on the brink of dropping out of school, the collapse of a long-time friendship, and the sour ending of a relationship.
“My life was a mess during that period and it just reflected in everything I was writing,” Lirase admits. Still making music in medical school as an ancillary passion, those events found their way into his artistic endeavours and, even though he didn’t initially like that approach, it’s helped form the crux of who he currently is as an artist. “That whole time just taught me true artistry, because I feel like being an artist is somebody who lives their life and expresses their experiences through their art-form.” As a symbol of that learning curve, he’s now making music under his real name.
‘The Dawn’, Lirase’s recently released debut EP, has a weathered tone and a lived-in quality to it. Pulling from that tumultuous period of his life, the 4-song project is a statement of defiant hope, driven by the singer’s refusal to be defined by his struggles and an unyielding drive to live his life as wholesomely as possible. The events that informed the EP aren’t explicitly stated, but you can hear their emotional toll in Lirase’s full-throated singing and a sense of optimism that doesn’t pretend to have all the answers.
Entirely produced by collaborator-turned-close-friend, John Ekow Barnes, the music ‘The Dawn’ is an experimental fusion of Reggae, Dream pop, Electronic music, Neo-Soul, Rock, and more. With its sonic and thematic make-up, Lirase is well aware that his music has a clear alternative bent within Ghanaian music, but he’s not immediately bothered about widespread acceptance. If anything, he wants to be even more honest as he refines the genre-ranging quality of his sound, and that’s because he’s playing the long game and wants to be respected by listeners for his authenticity.
Our conversation with Lirase has been lightly edited and it follows below.
NATIVE: Were you one of those people that had music playing around them while growing up?
Lirase: Nah, mine is quite an atypical story because my parents were not musical people. My dad directed a choir for a while but it wasn’t anything that he like to talk about, he only mentioned it a few times. During morning devotions and those things, my mum liked singing, so she would make all of us sing. That’s it. I didn’t really have any exposure to professional music, and my parents weren’t the type to play music throughout the house.
It was mostly my elder sister who got a phone at a point and we started playing music in the house, ‘cause I’d just go take a phone and the earpiece. The first time I used the earphones, I remember the songs on the phone were “Dream Big”, “Flying without Wings”, and some other Rihanna song, and I was so immersed in the music. It was so crazy for me, like “is this what music is?” That was when I really got into music and then I joined the school band, I was a drummer for a like a year till I had to leave.
When did you decide to fully get into music?
I decided to do music when I was completing junior high school, around 13-14—I decided I wanted to make a song and release it. I didn’t release my first song till I got to senior high school, then I started releasing music intermittently like that. When I started medical school, I was faced with a tough challenge of what I wanted to do, because it demands a lot from you. I actually took a long break and I just tried to give myself enough time to think through it and see how the medical thing would go, because it was not something I was really passionate about but you know African parents.
Finally, I decided to do it professionally last year. I was about to finish medical school and I didn’t really feel fulfilled by, so I decided to try and pursue this dream of being an artist. I put all the music I’d been doing together to figure out what kind of music I should be doing that would fulfil me, and then I took pieces of lyrics and melodies from stuff that I had done, then I met with the producer and sound engineer [John Ekow Mensah] and we got to work.
How did you and John Ekow Mensah meet?
I met John in my final year of medical school. I had moved out of campus and I had my own setup in my room, so I was making my own stuff and some artists from campus used to come around as well. There was this guy that they used to tell us about that he had a studio and he was a producer as well, but I just didn’t really look into it because I didn’t have that money to pay a producer. When I was leaving Cape Coast, I met with a senior colleague who had released a double single project and she asked me to listen to it. I listened to it and the production was insane, the engineering was top notch and you didn’t really get that producers in Cape Coast, so I took his number and I called him.
I even sent him stuff to work on for him before I met him, and when I did, I saw that he had a full studio setup—he was in a band before he started making music digitally. I was amazed and it just sucked me in, and I just decided, “I’m going to do an EP with you.” We figured out the terms and we started working together. The whole thing that he was in a live band and he was a mature guy in the art, someone that has been doing music for the past ten to fifteen years, that really got me to trust him. We spent some time together sharing some musical ideas, and he got the idea of the type of records I was trying to make.
He kind of mentored me through the recordings when we started working, to the point where I would have to go meet him at Cape Coast to record final takes even though I record stuff myself—because I had finished school was back in Accra by this time.
In a good way, there’s so much happening in the music on your EP. What would you define your sound as?
I can’t put into one genre because, as you said, there’s a fusion of a lot of things. Personally, when I’m filling any forms online for uploading my music, I put experimental or fusion. In as much as we categorise music for the DSPs and to put the music in front of the right people, it’s obvious that it doesn’t really fit just one mould. I’ll just say experimental or fusion music. I do appreciate the importance of classification and genres because, eventually, there’ll be some consistency with the work I do, maybe I can be classified to one or two styles of music at that point.
The EP has a very weathered tone to it, like you’re willing yourself to overcome personal issues. What were the events that informed the writing?
Honestly, that period between 2020 to middle of 2021, I would describe as a very dark time in my life. There were a lot of things happening on so many different fronts. When it came to school, I was about to complete but I wasn’t even into the whole school thing since level 400. I even called my dad and told him, “yo, I can’t do this anymore,” because I was failing classes and I was about to repeat a year. I didn’t want to that because living in Cape Coast was a really difficult thing, because I left all my friends and entire life in Accra, I was living in a place where I didn’t know anybody and the people living there are just in a different mental space I didn’t fuck with.
I actually stopped going to class for a week and I was thinking about just coming back to Accra to just figure my life out, because I never really had a vision to do anything serious in the medical field, so I was just weighing the options. Eventually, I spoke to some friends and other family members also called me, and I just decided that I was going to try my best. I had to go get a tutor to pass the re-sits and just restructuring my life, because at that point I was “trapping”, just skipping class and hanging in the studio with a cousin and his boys from campus. I closed down the studio, changed houses and that shift was difficult for me because I was going through withdrawals on so many levels and I had to be diligent with school work.
Also, I had a whole different issue with a friend I shared a business with for about six to seven years. We had to shut the business down because it wasn’t doing well and we were dealing with interpersonal issues as well, so we had to come to a split and that was very difficult. I lost of money and the relationship had changed, and within that same situation we had to deal with debts to a friend that also invested in our business. Emotionally too, I had to go through a break-up. My life was a mess during that period and it just reflected in everything I was writing. Even the beats I was making, I didn’t like them but that whole time just taught me true artistry, because I feel like being an artist is somebody who lives their life and expresses their experiences through their art-form.
Yeah, but that can be really difficult to do.
Yeah, but I had to learn how to do it in a way that I don’t really let it get the better of me, in the sense that I don’t let it deter me. It’s just about pouring it out and trying to move forward. I don’t think I’m expressing enough yet because, I was talking to M3nsa [solo artist and ½ of Fokn Bois] and he kept reiterating that I should try to be honest in my music, just be as natural as possible and stop hiding stuff, then you’ll be making music that’s not true to you. It might work, but is that the kind of music you want to do? Then I reflected on that and I realised that there was this kind of avoidant energy in the music, which led to me putting things in a complex manner rather than telling it as it is. At the end of the day, it wouldn’t make sense to someone who doesn’t know me or isn’t in the same wavelength. I’m still learning how to put things the way they are.
Are you bothered about reception, just from the mainstream standpoint?
I’m concerned but I wouldn’t say bothered. I’m just really starting off and it’s something I want to do for a very long time. You know how life works, I have bills to pay and I have to survive and music is expensive, so I’m concerned. But thing is, it’s only in giving value to people that I’m going to get back the investment in my music, like am I entertaining people? Am I provoking their thoughts? Is the music hitting them? That’s when I know I’m engaging them and they would want to share the music with their friends. At the end, I feel like authentic music is music you can grow with, music that will be timeless, so I would want to hold on to that and make music that feels good to me, sounds good to me, and I know I don’t have a terrible taste in music, so it’s going to feel good and sound good to somebody else.
Louddaaa sees Nigeria’s distinctive sonic identity as a responsibility, something to preserve and carry...
The world first discovered Louddaaa's artistry on Ayra Starr's eponymous debut EP, where he produced three of...
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.”
The Rave Lorde has kept to his word to deliver a summer hit.
Rema has released his highly anticipated new single “Kelebu.” Early last month, the Benin-born star took...
Rema has released his highly anticipated new single “Kelebu.” Early last month, the Benin-born star took to social media to promise an incoming summer release. ‘Still owe y’all that summer Banger,’ he tweeted. Weeks later, he gave more insight about the direction of his forthcoming release, tweeting, ‘Ok.. I want y’all to DANCE this summer!’
After much anticipation, the singer posted a snippet of “Kelebu” in usual fashion, promising $10k for whoever comes up with an easy dance challenge and raising excitement for what is probably about to become a dancefloor staple quickly.
The self-proclaimed Rave Lorde seemed to have favoured a more tempered approach in the last few months, opting for the sheen and soulfulness of R&B on his first two releases of the year. “Baby (Is it a Crime),” which had already taken on a life of its own even before its official release, gives Sade’s 1985 classic “Is It A Crime” an Afropop and R&B facelift, while “Bout U” sounds like it was picked out of a 2004 Marion Winans release.
With the release of “Kelebu,” Rema returns to the familiar chaos of 2024’s ‘HEIS,’ borrowing from an array of genres to create what is, without a doubt, one of his most exhilarating releases to date. Teaming up with close collaborator London and the German-born Ambezza, “Kelebu” takes inspiration from a host of regional genres like Dominica’s Bouyon and Mara, the new Street-Pop subgenre that’s recently come into prominence. There’s also strong Makossa and Coupé-Décalé influences across the track as Rema tears through the riotous beat with breakneck pace.
Whether “Kelebu” fits into a bigger picture oris the start of something new remains to be seen. You can never be too sure with Rema. He could be teasing several Trap-inspired songs one minute, and then go ahead to release a sensual R&B record the next. The Mavin star is somewhat unpredictable, and that’s part of his huge appeal. You’re not certain what comes next, but you’re seated for the ride regardless.
Markers of those places inevitably show up in the music of our favorite stars, enriching our soundscape and...
The concept of origin and heritage has never been more important in Afropop than right now. As the edges of...
The concept of origin and heritage has never been more important in Afropop than right now. As the edges of the sound broaden and influences spring forth from all over, artists are increasingly taking on ambassadorial roles that see them represent the people, attitude, and ideals of where they hail from. Whether by birth or upbringing, artists are intrinsically tied to and influenced by these places where they have spent significant time socialising and soaking up influences. The markers of those places inevitably show up in their music, enriching our soundscape and furthering our collective cultural memory.
Whether it is Olamide putting on for Bariga on “Oga Nla 1” in tandem with Alhaji Wasiu Alabi Pasuma and Lil Kesh or Burna Boy beautifying Port Harcourt on “City Vibration,” we get a glimpse into these places beyond run-of-the-mill news that doesn’t offer a rounded perspective on the inner workings of the community. We are at once witnesses to communal struggles and pain via these artists’ perspectives, as well as willful participants in their ascension to musical superstardom while doing their best to hold on to their communities.
We compiled a list of some artists whose rise and continued success pay homage to the communities that raised them.
Wizkid, Ojuelegba, Surulere
It’s pretty befitting that the quintessential Wizkid song is “Ojuelegba,” a cut from his 2014 sophomore studio album, ‘Ayo’. While the singer has paid homage to his birthplace on a few previous occasions, no song venerates the Lagos suburb quite like “Ojuelegba.” Even as he made the smooth transition from national hero to global superstar shortly after the release of ‘Ayo,’ the album’s standout track continued to serve as a melodious autobiography that helps establish his roots for those unfamiliar. The song’s accompanying music video also captures the suburb’s bustling energy, as well as the unforgiving conditions that produced him. – B.A
Burna Boy, Port Harcourt
One of the many things that Burna Boy speaks with pride about is his native Port Harcourt. He constantly ensures that his city is at the forefront of his craft, dedicating songs that either narrate his experiences in the Garden City or highlight some of the social and political issues plaguing his home city. Songs like “Where I’m From” and “Ph City Vibration,” highlights from his third studio album ‘Outside,’ double as sturdy deep cuts and brief history lessons about Port Harcourt. In late 2022, the pop star also released a short documentary for “Whiskey,” detailing the environmental crisis in his birthplace. – B.A
Olamide, Bariga
No Nigerian artist is as representative of mainland Lagos as Olamide Baddo. Still, even the mainland is not a monolith, as different areas have their quirks and unique colorations. Bariga, Olamide’s neck of the woods, has been an ever-present in his music from the very beginning of his career, providing inspiration and grounding for the street-pop juggernaut who references the lessons learned and tales handed down in his hood. “Money,” the opening track from his sophomore album, ‘YBNL,’ features a bus conductor calling out for passengers to Ladilak, Bariga, forever immortalising the Lagos hood on wax. On “Rep Adugbo” from his incendiary ‘Baddest Guy Ever Liveth,’ he’s similarly unabashed about his dedication to Bariga, its inhabitants, and authority figures. Even superstardom hasn’t dulled those representative instincts: on “Supplier,” from his 2023 album, ‘Unruly,’ he’s keen to remind anyone listening that he carries Bariga with him everywhere he goes. – W.O
Asake, Lagos Island
Asake could only have emerged from the crucible of Lagos Island. There’s something about his carriage that undoubtedly suggests an upbringing in the oldest part of Lagos, and even though he doesn’t always directly reference Lagos Island, the seeds of its influence are in the margin of his work. The back and forth between Islamic and Christian motifs in his work is a legacy of the religiously tolerant culture of Lagos Island, and his slang usage reflects a stint living in the ocean-side community. Perhaps the clearest sign of his connection to Lagos Island came on his third studio album, ‘Lungu Boy,’ a detailing of his come-up story from Lagos Island hopeful to global superstar. On “Uhh Yeahh,” he sings, “Beere mi ni Kakawa,” directly shouting out the popular street in Lagos Island. Visual elements of his tour dates from 2024 also heavily featured and celebrated the streets of Lagos Island as the singer leaned into his heritage. Places like Adeniji Adele, Freedom Park, and Marina were featured, letting the world know that Asake has not forgotten his roots. – W.O
Zlatan, Ikorodu
Zlatan Ibile takes great pride in giving game to ambitious young hustlers looking to move beyond the current situation of their lives. His rise from Ikorodu hoodrat to Nigerian Hip-Hop royalty is the stuff of legend, but the stories of his woes, troubles, and sufferings in Ikorodu keenly display the relentlessness and dogged determination that saw Zlatan make a name for himself. He’s keen to reminisce on those days from time to time. On “Elevated,” off SuperWozzy’s 2021 ‘Light Of The Trenches,’ he sings, “Won fe k’enu mi gbe seh, biti church rat/ Mo moyan pupo n’Ikorodu ton ti te Shoprite,” reflecting on the lack that plagues huge swathes of Ikorodu. It’s a similar impulse that births his verse on Ajebo Hustlers’ “Dreams II,” which features a reference to his mischievous streak growing in Ikorodu. – W.O
Rema, Ekenhuan Road, Benin
If the syrupy trap-adjacent flow Rema employed on his introductory project or his incursions into diverse genres on several occasions since then have fooled you, his 2023 album, ‘HEIS,’ was a defiant reclamation of his identity as a Benin boy. To be fair, ‘HEIS’ didn’t just drop out of the blues; the Mavin singer had been preparing his audience for that home-leaning lurch since he stepped on stage adorned in a replica of the iconic mask of storied Benin royal, Queen Idia, during his first sold-out concert at the O2 Arena in London.
Reminding his audience of the painful history of British incursion in Benin, Rema set the stage for ‘HEIS,’ an album steeped in Benin-specific lore and acts of remembrance. “BENIN BOYS,” his blockbuster collaboration with Shallipopi, could not have passed the message of his origin better. Featuring a shoutout to his old neighbourhood, Ekenhuan Road, and an urge to the Oba to award him a medal, “BENIN BOYS” is a larger-than-life celebration of his city. Taken together with the rage-inducing “OZEBA,” it was a spiritual return home for one of Benin’s most iconic sons that showcased his identity for the world to see. – W.O
Seyi Vibez, Ikorodu
No one puts on for Ikorodu quite like Seyi Vibez. While the singer was originally born in Ketu, it’s in Ikorodu that he honed his craft as a skilled musician. He’s referenced his upbringing and Ikorodu specifically in a lot of his earlier interviews and songs, and it’s in that same administrative division that he put together his first show that pulled a crowd of about 200 people. The singer returned in 2023 for a free homecoming concert as a way to celebrate and give back to the community that helped kickstart and support his musical journey. He’s continued to rep Ikorodu even in recent times, most notably on his hit record “Shaolin.”– B.A
Mohbad, Ikorodu
Mohbad was one of Ikorodu’s crown jewels. In August 2023, just about a month before his passing, the singer posted a video of himself on Instagram visiting his old neighbourhood in Ikorodu. He went around distributing gifts and reconciling with longtime friends without any security, interacting organically with a community that regarded him as one of their own. He put on for his community just as much as they did for him. After his unfortunate passing, the youth rallies that were organised in Ikorodu to commemorate and demand justice for his death highlighted just how important he was to one of Lagos’s most populous hubs. – B.A
Shallipopi, Sapele Road, Benin
Even if his golden drawl and sonorous pidgin didn’t betray his Benin heritage, Shallipopi wouldn’t pretend to be from anywhere else but his hometown. That Benin heritage is in how Shallipopi perceives the world, the way he talks, and, particularly, how he approaches his music. “Obapluto,” the standout on his debut project, ‘Planet Pluto,’ features a prominent sample of Pa Monday Edo’s “Ogbaisi,” an homage to the Oba of Benin. It’s a trick he repeated on “ASAP,” off his sophomore album, ‘Shakespopi,’ sampling Alhaji Waziri Oshomah’s “Ikwekiame Nedumhe.” The chorus of his 2025 hit single is almost entirely sung in Bini, displaying the reverence that Shallipopi has for Benin – W.O.
Omah Lay, Port Harcourt
On the opener of Omah Lay’s critically acclaimed debut album ‘Boy Alone,’ he’s unequivocal about where he’s from. ‘All of the way from Port Harcourt/Water Side,’ he sings proudly, emphasising the city that shaped his music and creative voice. Throughout the album, he makes multiple other references to his background, whether it’s singing in his native Ikweere language or name-dropping neighbourhoods like the Marine Base area. In a Hypebeast interview from 2022, the singer spoke about his city with similar pride. “Port Harcourt is different from the rest of Nigeria in the way that we talk, eat– everything. It’s really different. All of that definitely influenced my music so much because it was really tough growing up in Port Harcourt, but that experience made me who I am today. I’ll never forget that or stop repping my city.” – B.A