There’s a popular Igbo adage that states “Onweghi ihe bu ihe ohụrụ n’okpuru anyanwu” – which loosely translates to English as “There is nothing new under the sun”. Whether it’s fashion, entertainment, or art, most modern concepts are simply reworked regurgitations of the past. In the same vein, contemporary music – especially African music – evidently has strong ties to past music styles that defined previous eras. 

Thus is the entire essence of the Afrocentric band, The Cavemen, who channel the nostalgic highlife sound that raved in our country during the ‘50s and ‘60s. Fusing elements of jazz and soul music with their evident highlife influences, The Cavemen – comprising the sibling duo Kingsley Okorie and Benjamin James – create their version of futuristic highlife; a coalition of slices of the past and their modern perspectives. Although the pair first stepped onto the scene as instrumentalists, they attained a higher level of visibility back in 2019 as they began making music of their own. Their peerless sound – one they’ve defined as ‘Highlife Fusion’ – was born out of a necessity to fill a void undoubtedly missing from the Nigerian mainstream. Listening to the Cavemen, you’re immediately catapulted onto a different plane; it’s suddenly a cool Sunday evening in Nsukka – the storied city in Enugu state, Nigeria – in 1965, and you can feel the dusty red sands beneath your feet and perceive the scent of palm wine trailing laughter from husky voices in the backyard, as the blaring music envelops your ears. It’s a sound that begets warmth, a warmth our grandparents once relished in, a warmth we can now all identify with. 

African music, more than anything else, is historically ancient, rich, and diverse, and here in Nigeria, our sounds are vast and varied, upheld by our storied culture. However, in the last few decades, Afrobeat – and more recently its offspring, Afropop –  has been singled out as the blanket genre that defines our country’s contemporary sound, resulting in a sideline of other genres. This was, however, not always the case. Delving deeper into the history of our arts, you’d find that before Fela Kuti’s revolutionary work as the pioneer of Afrobeat, before our country’s independence, highlife was a mainstay; seeping into our roots from Ghana. It was West African pop music when the Union Jack was lowered for the last time by the British colonial masters in Lagos, and the Nigerian Green-White-Green flag was hoisted. 

While the music held more significance for Ghana in the ‘60s, representing their daily socio-political struggles, in Nigeria, it was feel-good music, carrying mundane themes, made specifically for dance. Although highlife spanned across the breadth of the country, it first gained popularity among the Igbo people following World War II. Performers like Rex Lawson & the Majors Band, Chief Osita Osadebe, Victor Uwaifo, and the legendary Oliver De Coque revolutionized the sound and, for a while, highlife was the dominating genre in our sound culture. Following the civil war in the late ‘60s, Igbo musicians were forced out of Lagos and returned to their homeland and as a result, highlife ceased to be a major part of mainstream Nigerian music; solely thought of as being something purely associated with the Southeasterners. Over time, highlife’s popularity slowly dwindled among the Igbos, and it was reduced to a passive genre. A genre The Cavemen, Igbos themselves, are prepared to resurrect. 

Right from their debut single, “Osondu”, the Cavemen’s unique agenda was vivid: they are here to expand on the transcendent blueprint of Highlife music, and play their part in extending the influential sound’s relevance in the most authentic way possible. In the last year, the duo have furthered their cause with subsequent releases of singles like “Bolo Bolo”, “Me You I” and more recently, “Anita”, as well as producing the majority of Lady Donli’s critically acclaimed debut album, ‘Enjoy Your Life’. Their electrifying live performances – with stages as intimate as living rooms and as grandiose as TedX conventions – have lit up many rooms and earned them a reputation as one of the most enjoyable bands around. Slowly, but surely, Kingsley and Benjamin are taking strides to becoming the modern torch bearers for the highlife genre. 

Their sonically opulent history climaxes into ‘ROOTS’, the Cavemen’s newly released debut album which they had been teasing since January, but actually working on over the last couple of years. On a mission to “fill the vacuum for contemporary highlife”, ‘ROOTS’ is, as its name suggests, produced in reverence to their Nigerian heritage and a genre with deep anchors in the history of African music. Sitting at just six minutes short of an hour, the sixteen-tracker is concurrently an expansive journey through the rich sound of highlife and a heartfelt ode to the soundtrack of our country’s traumatic history and political turmoil. 

Highlife is, more than anything else, characterised by its very particular sound; jazzy horns melding with layered, arpeggiated guitar riffs and skittering percussions, serving as the perfect backdrop for the spacey croons of the performer. It’s music that evokes spiritual hip gyrations from unassuming bodies as they become one with the rhythm. The first half of the album – as Kingsley reveals in an interview with Accelerate TV – is intended to sound like an afternoon in town, filled with mellifluous melodies, and easy going yet message-bearing lyrics. “Ah, Akaraka oh/Echi d’ime” (Destiny/Tomorrow is pregnant), Kingsley rhythmically intones on “Akaraka” in his vernacular Igbo tongue over the accompanying traditional instrumentals certain to send shots of nostalgia through your body. The pitter-patter percussive progression of pre-released “Bolo Bolo” would cause an eruptive swinging of hips on the dancefloor in a ‘50s nightclub in Enugu; “Ọ gini ka i ga-eme ka nwanyi a ghara i bolo bolo su” (What will you do so that a woman won’t take you for a fool?), Kingsley questions as Benjamin’s sizzling drum rolls swirl with the irresistible guitar melodies. And on the shekere-heavy “Bena”, the breezy rhythms are reminiscent of a Sunday afternoon car ride through town. 

Love, in all its variant forms,  is a running theme in highlife music; almost every song boasts lyrical attempts to woo a woman. It’s no wonder why every other song on ‘ROOTS’ is named for a woman and places her firmly at the center of its subject. On “Fall”, “Me You I” and “Anita”, the pair explore themes of freshly tapped love, frothing at the mouth with infatuation. “Ije love asogbue m” (The journey of love is sweeting me), Benjamin shrieks on the mellow “Me You I”, painting the all too familiar picture of you early days in love. “Bena” and “Ọbiageri” are dedications to transactional love. “A mana m/Obu na I ma m/Naani inye I na eri/Nako mo” (Don’t know me,if you know me for only what you want from me), they repeatedly echo on the weighty “Ọbiageri” (the name which directly translates as someone who came solely to enjoy), as they render an ode to those who take but never give. And sometimes love goes sour; it gets messy but we somehow can’t let go – the Cavemen perfectly illustrate this downturn on “Ifeoma Odoo” and “Crazy Lover”.

The late Professor Chinua Achebe once said “Ilu bu nnụ okwu” which means “Proverbs are the salt with which words are eaten”. Proverbs are the wisdom of a people, in a nutshell. Complex stories and situations are concentrated in a few words and phrases which capture and retain the essential meaning of the experiences from which they derive. Hence, the compulsory use of Igbo proverbs (“ilu”), parables and idioms, in every traditional setting, has elevated the language to the status of a living art of popular communication. This has translated into Igbo music, particularly highlife. While the lyrics are often sparse and repetitive, they commonly hold vital life lessons, conveyed mostly through witty proverbs. 

On ‘ROOTS’, The Cavemen transform into the wise village elders perpetually planted on seats under the mango tree, passing on moral lessons to any child willing to hear; “Osondu” probably narrates one of the most crucial life lessons needed. “Mgbe I na-aga ije gi elekwala anya n’azu, ọsọndu” (When you’re going on your journey, don’t look back, run for your life), they warn, advising listeners to focus on their onward path alone. On “Iro”, Benjamin and Kingsley convey a message on the demerits of ‘iro ajọka’ (quarrel), admonishing listeners to live and let live because “ọ bu onye makwazi ife ọ ga-egbu”(who knows what you will be?) And “Onye Ma Uche” (which directly translates as ‘who knows the mind ?’) relays ear-pulling advice on dealing with others. ‘O ga ka mma, kanyi bi e ndu, na maghi uche. Ma oburu na I ma Uche m, gi were ike I gbo oso. Ma oburu na m ma uche gi, ewere m ike gbo oso’ ( It’d be better for us to live life not knowing the mind. Because if you know my mind, you might run away from me. And if I know your mind, I might run away from you), they counsel, enforcing the popular saying, ‘what you don’t know won’t hurt you’.

“I want people to feel healing, really. That’s what I want from this album, I want impact and healing,” Kingsley revealed in the trailer for ‘ROOTS’, shared via their social media. On the opposite spectrum of highlife’s ability to send electrifying shocks down your spine and overtake your body’s hip movement, resulting in a cascade of gyrations, lies its healing power; its ability to cleanse the soul. The late Cardinal Rex Jim Lawson was known to weep and shed tears while singing his own songs on stage, notably the haunting “So Ala Temen”, a slow-boiling track filled with gentle rhythms. In the same way, the reflective “Beautiful Rain” and “Homesong” stand out as calmers. It is gentle rain (quite literally) on an early Saturday morning. Traditionally, agriculture was a leading profession among the Igbo people who would rise as early as the crack of dawn and make their way to farms spanning over thousands of acres to get to work. Naturally, they would always pray for the right amount of rainfall to enable their crops to grow and yield a bountiful harvest. Hence, to the Igbo people, rain is often seen as a deity of healing and replenishment. It’s little wonder why Kingsley repeatedly begs the rain to “ye m amamihe” (give me wisdom). “Mmiri ozuzo, sachapu ihe ọjọ m” (Beautiful rain, please wash away my sins), Kingsley begs over the stripped down, hi-hat led instrumentals on “Beautiful Rain”. 

Among all things, highlife is communal music. It’s a chore-filled Saturday morning in an extended household. It’s a Thursday evening rendezvous at the beer parlour down the street. It’s the ‘dance dance dance’ segment of your cousin’s newborn’s naming ceremony. Highlife has always been the bedrock sound for common gathering and ‘ROOTS’ is an attempt to channel this spirit, starting right from the album artwork – courtesy of ATIDE Studios – which portrays an image of  townspeople in a village square, making merry and dancing to the beat of the drums played. Instilling a sense of community through the mellow grooves, Benjamin croons, “Eze oge ndi obere” (Good times are short), on the album’s third track “Oge”, beckoning listeners to “ka anyi jiri ya me nke ọma” (let us use it for something good). 

The Cavemen are carefully treading their own path as a bridge between generations, bringing the sounds from the past into the future. Further listening to ‘ROOTS’, the Cavemen’s goal becomes clearer by the second; they are here to uphold the legacy of highlife but they’re much more than revivalists – they’re dedicated to creating instantly timeless music rooted in their own authenticity. It’s music that transcends language barriers, as is evident during their scintillating live performances; whether or not you understand the language, the music will speak to you. It’s music that transcends generations as those irresistible drum patterns will make anyone from 5 to 50 dance and ‘feel alright’. 

The essence of the hour-long journey on ‘ROOTS’ – frankly the Cavemen’s career in its entirety – is best summarized on the album’s two minute opener, “Welcome To the Cave”. ‘Uda si n’ugba’, the sounds from the cave (which they define as ‘the heart of a man’) is the music they are certain will change Nigeria, unite Africa and inherently impact the world. They are set to give the Nigerian music landscape the diversity it’s been yearning for and growing into, while embodying the spirits of their musical ancestors. And while many have crowned ‘ROOTS’ album of the year from these parts (this writer included), it’s apparent critical acclaim isn’t the sole end goal for this revolutionary duo; they are more focused on making music people can live with. “It’s long, but you’ll sit with it because it’s good music”, Benjamin shared with NATIVE upon the album’s release. In their bid to render a contemporaneous update of a near-forgotten era, the pair are also laying the groundwork for the future of highlife – a future we hope will never overlook highlife again.

“I didn’t want you to see what’s coming – that’s the essence of this album”

This is what Adekunle Gold had to tell Apple Music of the final record on the album, titled “My Ex”. Upon reaching that point, one thing is clear to everyone who listened in full; in this sense, Adekunle Gold has prospered. With ten worldly tracks stacked cohesively atop one another, each side of the decagon that is his third studio album, ‘Afro Pop, Vol 1.’ brings an unexpected display of musical dexterity, that portrays a professional growth as much as it portends global success.

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by AG Baby (@adekunlegold)

Adekunle Gold has been inching towards this, subtly. More discreet than Tiwa Savage or Burna Boy or Rema, whose international PR drives have seen them cover billboards, star on late night TV and feature extensively across global-reaching publications. This year it was revealed that Gold had secured a deal with Universal Music Group subsidiary, Virgin EMI Records, but even last year, signs that AG was pushing for a global audience came through his first joint venture with Nailah Blackman on Walshy Fire’s “Outside” off ‘ABENG’, just weeks apart from his contribution to Michael Brun and BélO’s ‘Lokal, “Eda”. His singles, “Before You Wake Up”, “Promise”, “Young Love”, and even “Kelegbe Megbe” (note: not “Jore” as its sparse lyrics are predominantly in Pidgin English) stripped themselves – though not completely – of the Yoruba tongue that seduced listeners during Adekunle Gold’s breakout years, still under Olamide’s feeder label, YBNL. “Sade”, “My Life”, “Orente”, “Pick Up” all featured extensive conversation in his vernacular tongue, but as his ambitions ventured overseas, so did his primary mode of lyrical delivery. Understandably; the world is ready for an Adekunle Gold – an alternative Nigerian artist who feeds the fancy of both mainstream pop channels and traditional folk and highlife predilections – Adekunle Gold had to do all he could to make sure that he was ready for the world.

Nigeria has been taking baby steps towards global domination for some years now. Africa has always had its art at the centre of cultural production, but in recent years, the continent has become the subject of much global intrigue. Despotically prodding at the human race’s region of origin as if it were an infant child to be coddled and smooched, Western popular culture, which eclipses global conversation, has adopted an “Africa Now” stance that purports a sort of reintroduction to the richly populated continent. Africa is the baby giants from West to East want to hold; our country, Nigeria is its cheeks – the first port of call for curious powerhouses in global industries stretching from music to technology; the seemingly malleable region that commands the most attention from outsiders on a touristic adventure. The current neo-colonial dynamic of this cultural exchange deserves our critique, but it would be dishonest to imply that the Africa to the world narrative has been solely to the detriment of Nigerians (though our dominance in African affairs is likely to the detriment of other African nations).

In the world of music, some will argue that ‘to the world’ began with Mo’Hits’ brief stint with G.O.O.D Music, that this was the start of contemporary Nigerian pop’s crossover into the international market. I like to take that glorious year, 2016 as the real turning point for Nigerian music. International collaborations had been popping off for years; in 2013, the ever-relevant 2Baba teamed up with T-Pain for the clubbuster, “Rainbow”, the same year that Rick Ross made his appearance alongside Nigerian pop’s more prolific brother’s on “Onyinye” which was preceded a year earlier by Akon’s feature on P-Square’s 2012 hit single, “Chop My Money”. In 2015, leader of contemporary Afropop’s latest charge, Davido linked up Meek Mill for the slept on single, “Fans Mi”, but it was the year after that, when his long-time rival, Wizkid bagged a surprise remix from Drake and Skepta – both kings of their respective turfs at the time – that the frequency and consistency of Nigeria-International collaborations stuck.

The year was 2016; and since then Nigerian music has been a mainstay in global music conversations, growing in relevance with each emerging artist with a flair for Western appeal. The idea of ‘crossing over’ no longer seems so daunting, so impossible or so exclusive; with less than two years on our radars Fireboy DML and Rema have both made a name for themselves internationally, a feat that took Tiwa Savage, Davido and Wizkid over half a decade in Nigeria’s limelight to achieve. With international recognition comes international acclaim, exemplified by Burna Boy’s year-long Grammy campaign, and it is in this is the climate that Adekunle Gold’s ‘Afro Pop Vol 1.’ has already been touted an Academy Award contender (with some corners of the internet giving Gold’s Album of the Year above Burna Boy’s ‘Twice As Tall’).

The contemporary influences and Western appeal are one of the first points of note on Adekunle Gold’s ‘Afro Pop Vol 1.’. His first body of work with EMI, Gold’s ‘Afro Pop’ title suggests a comprehensive summary of the sounds that rule African pop music; incorporating Gqom styles (“Sabina”), staying true to his highlife origins (“Water Carry Me”) and delivering a quintessentially Afrobeats song (“Firewood”), Adekunle Gold does his title justice. However, his flexibility doesn’t end at simply adopting varying musical tastes from his local sphere of influence, what listeners and this writer seem to have picked up on first is Gold’s ability to craft these recognisably afropop genres into Western-defined pop songs without sounding like a sell-out.

What Gold himself describes as a drivetime summer bop (once again in his Apple Music album notes), “Here for Ya” could easily play on London’s Capital 1xtra,or fitted into a road trip sequence from the Hollywood hills. The song begins with echoed chants, “I’m here for ya” and ominous chords that kick into an electronic beat (courtesy of Diplo) which is augmented by Pheelz homegrown production, featuring vibrant horns and a mixed riff that plays like every other pop song blaring through Western radio channels. Lyrically too, Adekunle Gold transcends borders, singing of his devotion to a single girl, in an attempt to prove his worth to her. In any other setting “Here fo Ya”, would be a generic cliché worth of few commendations, but in the context of ‘Afro Pop’, this quintessential “World Music” number is another notch in Adekunle Gold’s heavyweight belt.

Coming up as an alternative artist, forgoing conformity for a highlife stroke with his debut album, ‘Gold’, Adekunle Gold is easily left out of conversations to do with afropop leading artists. Though his music isn’t mainstream, as an artist he is, so it is fair to say that these omissions have been unwarranted, nevertheless the jaded lover who grew up into a more confident singer on ‘About 30’ now sets himself up in the big leagues as a world renowned artiste, and through this entire campaign, he’s simply let his music do the talking.

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by AG Baby (@adekunlegold)

Adekunle Gold’s growth is glaring; in several aspects of his artistry he has evolved. Where ‘Gold’ felt like compilation of rejections, ‘Afro Pop’ – a little too heavy on the love songs considering the diversity of content we heard throughout ‘About 30’ – puts Adekunle in control, most of the time. Whilst “Sabina”, with is gqom flexes, live tenets and jazz subtleties, sees Gold pining for a second chance, Blaise Beatz’s “Something Different” it reminiscent of the Adekunle Gold from the 2010s in its sound also. But the way this track cries around the topic of unrequited love, is contrasted by the song that follows, a highlife number, “Water Carry Me” which sees Gold win in love in the end. The W that is “Water Carry Me” – its folk rhyme chorus in line with its Pidgin English title to make for a modern reworking of a tradition canticle – translates to the album in its entirety, as the penultimate track illustrates a win (not just in terms of love) that has been building up throughout the project.

“Water Carry Me” and the one that follows it, the tenth and final track of ‘Afro Pop’, “My Ex” are more reflective the rest of the album than “Something Different”. The latter song’s sonic mood is matched solely by “Firewood” (which boasts an effortless Tekno feature), its jaded subject matter finding peers in only “Sabina” and the R&B collaboration with rising singer and long-lasting friend of Gold’s, Olayinka Ehi on “Exclusive”. “My Ex” narrates a well-known feeling of regret, when our lust trumps our wisdom and we make that embarrassing journey back. Familiar as Adekunle Gold’s lyrics may be, “My Ex” delves into unfamiliar territory for the artist, as his relatable chorus, where he repeats “don’t judge me”, is twisted into an electronic riff, his vocals sent to the background of Spax excited production. Returning to the quote that opened the review, “I wanted to do this [beat switch] with all the songs on this album. I didn’t want you to see what’s coming – that’s the essence of this album,” “My Ex” achieves, more than any song on this album, the juxtaposition of calmness and club-bounce that Adekunle Gold seems to be going for.

Going from zero to hero, between debut and sophomore, AG has carried on his biannual progression, growing even more sure of himself on ‘Afro Pop Vol 1.’, with songs such as “Pretty Girl”, “AG Baby” and “Okay” depicting the confidence and control that Gold has been building up since his coming of age project, ‘About 30’. A harsh opening, particularly with his enunciation of the word “shit”, as he sings “stacking up my money no time for your shit”, “Okay” dismisses the love and lust that populates the album, focussing squarely on Adekunle’s Gold come up – this is what makes the record so strong amongst the rest. Bragging about his wealth (“I dey my penthouse you can’t even reach me”) as he verbally drags everyone who stands in the way of him peacefully living his life until they’re literally dragged out of the picture, “Okay” is a subtle song, its laid-back subdued energy offering a sinisterly threatening atmosphere, given Gold’s no-nonsense lyrics (“I’m not the one, calm down”).

Adekunle Gold’s plea to be left to his own devices, hints at another walk of life in which he has evolved; his style. Nigeria’s is an incredibly traditional society, where deviation from the norm is not only discouraged but most often chastised as disrespectful or attention seeking. However, as our borders open up to international stakeholders and their liberal mindsets, in tandem with the rise of the non-conformist Alté scene that encourages self-expressive style experimentations to compliment its sprawling musical output, the music space – not surprisingly considering that music and fashion are creative bubbles that pride themselves on confronting the status quo – has seen a visible shift away from the traditional. Fireboy paints his nails black, Rema carries around a teddy bear, Runtown wears cowboy boots, Adekunle Gold models primary school beads on his album cover. But this is not to say that society as a whole is progressive or accepting of the do you philosophy that seems to be spreading to far corners of our music industry. One artist that bears the brunt of Nigeria’s wider audience’s bigoted curiosity is Odunsi (The Engine), whose every tweeted media is subject to interrogations about his sexuality or faux concern over his mental wellbeing. It says something, then, that Adekunle Gold a 30+ (we all know the significance of that) mainstream artist (in all but his music) so freely dons his fashion-forward, loose-fitting co-ords and glimmering suits, crowned with his now signature braids and beads – but his style choices haven’t evolved without criticism.

In the midst of his album promotion, Adekunle Gold came under fire for co-opting queer aesthetics, in light of his wife’s numerous homophobic remarks went unchecked across the internet. When Simi opened her notes app on the third of this month to deliver an apology to the LGBTQ community, the scrutiny only intensified, as the public questioned the convenience of it all. Gold had just released his album tracklist and was celebrating a feature in Quazar Magazine, a queer publication – by any measure, this was not a time for mumblings of queer exploitation on the part of the style-experimenting artist. Adekunle Gold maintains he knew nothing about it, whilst others still suspect those few days were orchestrated by the infamous PR machine; whatever you choose to believe (I’m on the latter side of the fence), though “Okay” is not a tirade against the critics, it still stands as a firm reminder that Adekunle Gold wants no interruptions in how he chooses to live his life.

He’s a long way from his photoshop origins, a time at which doctored images of Adekunle Gold with Tiwa Savage, Toolz or Tonto Dikeh were all the public had to see of Adekunle Kosoko, the promising, yet undiscovered singer who was poised to take on the world. Thanks to a role as the graphics designer for YBNL (AG majored in Graphics during his study of Industrial Art Design at Lagos State Polytechnic), Adekunle Gold was given the chance to be a Nigerian singing sensation, but what he saw was the world within his clutches. In an oversaturated industry ‘Afro Pop Vol 1.’ looks more like an airplay charter than a playlist number – overtly pop albums don’t inspire much playback – to this writer at least. Still, ‘Afro Pop Vol 1’ is the vessel with which Adekunle Gold will reach the global heights we imagine for our brightest stars. We cannot predict any Academy decision, but whether he brings it home or not, that the people can put their faith in Adekunle Gold to deliver Nigerian pop her first Gramophone portends a global success that we hope AG Baby, our baby, rides out to its fullest.

Stream ‘Afropop Vol.1’ below.