Maya Amolo Is Committed To Giving You The Sweetest Time

“Sweetest Time,” Maya Amolo’s latest single, is a soothing, lovesick confessional that mixes intimate, heartfelt lyricism with wistful production courtesy of Ugandan musician and producer SOULCHYD aka MAUIMØON. Alongside fellow Kenyan singer Ywaya Tajiri, the self-acclaimed sweetest girl delivers a lustrous duet that sees her soft vocals, which perfectly complement Tajiri’s more robust voice, skip and flit across moody synths, intensifying the spotlight on her wholehearted delivery. “I can feel you rushing through my system / Every single day it’s my religion,” she sings passionately halfway into the record. The whole thing sounds like the aural equivalent of a warm blanket; a truly affectionate record that immerses and envelopes its listeners in its warmth. This is the brand of vulnerable, understated R&B music that has been helping Amolo gain significant attention since she debuted in the pandemic year. 

Born and raised in Nairobi, Kenya, Amolo always had an affinity for music. The singer and producer, who took on piano and guitar lessons as a child, has previously credited acts like Brandy, Erykah Badu, Prince, and Kenyan musical icon Eric Wainaina as her early influences – and it’s easy to see how Amolo’s style draws from this strong lineage of musicians whose music is equally expansive, soothing and vulnerable. After years experimenting with different styles, recording covers to beats she ripped from YouTube and posting them on her Soundcloud page, Amolo released her debut project ‘Leave Me At The Pregame’ in 2020. 

 

The EP, which quickly soared up the charts in Kenya, served as a brief but emphatic introduction to Amolo’s minimalistic take on R&B. Standouts like the emotive opener “Puddles,” “Lush Green”, and “Jokes” showcase her clever and poignant lyricism that reflects on themes of love, depression, and self-healing. Along with sparse, melancholic production and the icy sensuality of her voice, Amolo delivered a remarkable debut that made her one of the most promising figures in Nairobi’s alternative music scene. Two years after ‘Leave Me At The Pregame,’ the Kenyan rising star released her debut album, ‘Asali.’  

‘Asali,’ which translates to “honey” in her native Kiswahili, showcased Amolo’s progression as both an artist and a human being, as she swapped out the sad-girl tunes that filled her debut EP for more vibrant and intricate records – thanks in part to Sir Bastien and Kenyan producer and rapper Lukorito – that explore themes of growth and the complexities and rich luster of love. The album’s lead singles, “Foundry” and the self-produced “Can’t Get Enough,” found relative success on streaming platforms, placing Amolo as one of the continent’s most exciting new R&B voices. About a year after the release of ‘Asali,’ Amolo updated the album with 8 new songs on a deluxe version that featured Kenyan stars like Bensoul, Xenia Manasseh and Zowie Kengocha. 

In August 2024, a few months after she delivered a splendid Colors performance, Amolo released a new project titled ‘What a Feeling.’ The 5-track EP, which essentially serves as an ode to Amolo’s home city, Nairobi, sees her experimenting with an array of dance sub-genres without straying too far from her R&B roots. While the project still retains much of the melancholy and elegance that defined her earlier work, there’s a hypnotic and pulsating energy that courses through ‘What A Feeling,’ that highlights a shift in the singer’s sensibilities. Amolo’s honeyed vocals gently seep through subtle Dancehall, Electronic, R&B and House-inspired production and the accompanying visualizer, a mashup of camcorder footage of her and her friends in Nairobi, also adequately captures the charming and nocturnal vibe of the tape. 

The project produced standout tracks like the sensual “Let It Flow,” the title track and “Take It,” which later got remixed by Ugandan singer Soundlykbb and rapper SGawD. With Amolo’s latest release, “Sweetest Girl,” the Kenyan rising star continues her intricate exploration of R&B music, merging it with varying styles to produce her own distinct and refreshing variant. There’s no telling what Amolo might do next, but with only a handful of releases to her name so far, there’s undoubtedly more to come from the talented singer as she looks to solidify herself as one of the genre’s most prominent faces across the continent.

T.I Blaze Updates ‘Shakur’ EP With Deluxe Version 

Over the last few years, street-pop, a guttural version of afropop, has surged to mainstream popularity, birthing stars like Asake, Seyi Vibez, and Shallipopi. On the homefront, a generation of younger stars also put unique spins on the sound. Singer, T.I Blaze, has been a notable star in the sub-genre since his 2021 single, “Sometimes,” and a subsequent remix with icon, Olamide, launched him into a different stratosphere.

Since “Sometimes,” Blaze has established his profile as a reliable source for songs that reflect the pulse of the streets while archiving his come-up story across a debut album (‘El Major’) and three extended plays like ‘The Fresh Prince Of Lagos’ and ‘Dangerous Wavy Baby.’ His 2024 EP, ‘Shakur,’ further underscored his evolution as an artist, featuring slippery numbers about escapism, his thoughts on life in the fast lane, and brotherhood with features from rising stars like Tml Vibez and BhadBoi Oml. 

In 2025, the singer has picked up where he left off last year, releasing “Trenches Luv,” a balmy February release that examines the dynamics of romance from his point of view as a young adult moulded by the hard realities of life on the street. The success of “Trenches Luv” has led to a deluxe version of ‘Shakur’ with the singer adding seven new songs to the original version of the project. Impressively, on the new version of the project, TI Blaze taps up Ayo Maff and Ghanaian star Arathejay on “My Brother” and “Mario Remix,” respectively. 

Led by a galala-inflected opener, “Track 1,” ‘Shakur (Deluxe) is both raw and complex with the singer sounding refreshed on songs like “My Brother,” “Dodge,” and “Introduction.” In many ways, this project is an invitation for listeners to explore the many facets of T.I Blaze’s artistry as well as a portent to celebrate his roots and offer a glimpse at his evolution. 

Listen to ‘Shakur (Deluxe)here

Review: Rigo Kamp’s ‘Rigo Kamp’ EP

Back in the mid-2010s, when alté started transforming from a niche SoundCloud phenomenon to an all-inclusive creative haven, the music branch of the scene basked in a sense of eclecticism that stood in sharp contrast to the staid conformity of Nigerian Pop. The flows were different; the themes explored and expounded on by acts like Odunsi (The Engine), Cruel Santino, Tay Iwar and others sounded lived-in and cogent to the experiences of the young people who pressed play on their music; and the beats didn’t stand in one position, dipping into the sonics of different eras and borrowing from a range of genres–it all felt like an endless search for wonder. 

In many ways, Rigo Kamp’s music evokes the starry-eyed purity of that early alté epoch, when acts created work that affirmed their consciousness while attuning their community to newer soundscapes. His sound is at once eerily familiar and ambitiously transcendental, moving between Alt-Pop, R&B, and Soul with a practiced precision. For the uninitiated, the Abuja-born, Lagos-based singer has been turning heads for a while. Last year, he performed at the inaugural edition of The NATIVE’s unDer Live, alongside well-regarded up-and-coming acts like Kold AF, Superjazzclub, and Toye. Later in 2024, he made his debut with the double-pack release of “Summer/Morning Sun,” landing recognition as Apple Music’s Up Next artist in November 2024 and joining an alumni that includes Rema, Tems, and Burna Boy. 

In a statement shared with The NATIVE following the release of “Summer/Morning Sun,” Kamp said that a project was on the way and would explore “where I was and where I am right now.” In truth, his self-titled debut makes sense of his past and his present and aims to set the stage for his future while dealing with romantic hopes, personal pressure, and familial bonds across its 18-minute runtime. For the most part, ‘Rigo Kamp’’ is moored by a sense of melancholy, but it doesn’t stop the project from providing moments of downright elation. 

Marathon,” the project opener, starts off as a Juju-influenced bop in instrumentation and lyrics before mutating into a spirited soul refrain that anchors the rest of the track. “Tell Tiwa Savage I get Stamina/ This one no be sprint the game na marathon,” he sings in the song’s riotous opening section. It’s the sort of lyric you’d usually find on a mainstream Afropop banger, but here, it serves as a portal to an astral terrain where Kamp emotes about a would-be lover’s character with a nod to the Juju sound popularised by Sir Shina Peters. It all comes off wonderfully and is a powerful reminder of how alté music can bridge the gap between generations and sounds. 

There are several Odunsi (The Engine) production credits on ‘Rigo Kamp’ and he also serves as the project’s executive producer, helping the rising singer craft a body of work that captures Rigo’s zest for life much like Odunsi’s lauded tape, ‘Time of Our Lives,’did when it was released nearly a decade ago. Where ‘Time of Our Lives’ was cheery and outward-leaning, ‘Rigo Kamp’ is quirky, dark, and mysterious but no less earnest. Kamp’s feelings are not abstracted or muted for an attempt at arcane sophistication. He’s unabashedly paper-chasing on “Forbes List” and he’s not afraid to admit the paranoia that comes with seeking prosperity. “Will I ever make it?” he asks rhetorically on the song. In another part of the song, he’s even pondering if his quest for material success makes any sense. That fidelity to feeling is what makes Rigo Kamp such an engaging listen. 

The answer to Kamp’s existential musing on material wants and needs comes on the next track, “Summer,” where he rhymes, “Get that money yes you need it, you deserve it,” in the song’s opening seconds. Originally released as a single alongside “Morning Sun,”Summer”  positively affirms the concept of winning through a Pop framework. It’s the sort of song to turn on a celebratory morning or tune in for motivation on bleak, rainy days. Within the project, the groovy essence of  “Morning Sun” serves as a counterbalance to the heart-wrenching candour of “Miss You” where Kamp is wistfully longing for a lover to live in the moment with him without tuning out over a soul-inflected instrumental. It’s a well-written song that manages to capture the melodrama of a contentious relationship without drowning in the messiness that characterises flailing romances.

Earlier this year, there was a lot of online chatter about the state of the alté community and the heights many expected its members to hit. Many argued about how success should be defined in the alte scene, but the truth is that the true measure of that success has always existed in the intangibles. For them, the journey has always been of greater importance than the journey, and in the sense, Rigo Kamp sits in that unique tradition undoubtedly. Rigo Kamp comes to an end on the pseudo-confessional “Move On” where the singer recounts his come-up story and the changing tide of his career over a buttery soul instrumental. At the tail-end of the song, he calmly recognises the cost of the journey, singing, “Some will go/ I move on/ Some will stay.” They are the words of an artist who knows his path and what it requires of him. 

NATIVE PREMIERE: Rigo Kamp Runs Ahead Of The Pack With The Visuals For “Marathon”

Last Friday, Rigo Kamp, a NATIVE uNder alum and one of the architects of an equal parts nostalgic and refreshing sound released his self-titled debut EP, delivering a propulsive fusion of Alte, R&B, Funk, and Soul-infused rhythms.

Featuring previously released singles “Morning Sun” and “Summer”, the six-track eponymous EP executively produced by Odunsi The Engine sees Rigo lean heavily into his element as a sonic alchemist, jumping from silky falsettos to gritty grooves without losing an ounce of cohesion, and ultimately stamping the Abuja-born, Lagos-based singer-songwriter as a mad scientist of sound.

Just last November, Apple Music named Rigo Kamp as its Up Next artist, an acknowledgment that underscored his potential and confirmed what the tastemakers and underground scene already knew. Weeks later, he delivered an exhilarating live set for Spotify Fresh Finds in Lagos, proving he’s just as compelling live as he is in the studio.

On Marathon”, the refreshing opener to the Rigo Kamp EP, Rigo borrows the bounce and swagger of Afro-Juju legend, Sir Shina Peters’ golden-era, fusing nostalgia with re-imagination to birth a vintage performance that feels like a private party for two, where it’s just Rigo, and you.

 

Get an exclusive first look at the video for Marathon here:

 

Listen to the Rigo Kamp EP:

 

South African House Duo, Black Motion, Return With Rhythmic “Khululeka”

South African house music pioneers, Black Motion, are back with a deeply moving and rhythmic new release titled “Khululeka.” True to its meaning in isiZulu— “be free” or “find peace”—this track is an anthem of liberation, urging listeners to let go, embrace love, and heal through the power of music.

With their signature percussion-driven melodies and the soul-stirring vocal chants of King Monopoly, “Khululeka” transcends the dancefloor. It is a spiritual and emotional journey, carrying an energy that is both uplifting and transformative. Whether in personal reflection or in the collective movement of a crowd, the song invites listeners to surrender to its message and rediscover love—both within and around them.

Since their formation in 2010 in Soshanguve, Black Motion—made up of Murdah Bongz (born Robert Mahosana), and Thabo (born Roy Thabo Mabogwane)—has become a dominant force in global house music. Their debut single, “Banane Mavoko,” put them on the map, and their albums, including the gold-certified Fortune Teller and the platinum-selling Ya Badimo, have cemented their status as pioneers of the genre. Their collaborations with artists like Oskido and Black Coffee, along with accolades such as multiple South African Music Awards (SAMAs), have solidified their place at the forefront of African electronic music.

Over the years, Black Motion has partnered with brands like Ballantine’s, Sony Xperia, and Coke Studio, and they are looking to partner with more under their new label Intascore, expanding their influence beyond music. With a combined social media reach of over 2.2 million followers, their music resonates with audiences worldwide, uniting people through rhythm, culture, and movement.

Review: Ruger’s “BlownBoy Ru”

 

There’s no shortage of talent in Afropop. The scene brims with gifted artists shaping the genre’s trajectory with distinct identities and sonic innovation. Yet, only a few possess the magnetism and force of personality to command attention like true superstars. Ruger, however, is cut from a different cloth. Right from the moment he emerged on the music scene –  pirate-esque eye patch covering one eye, pink-dyed hair and an aura that felt instinctive – he carried himself with the assuredness of someone who had always known he was destined for stardom.

Even beyond his commanding presence and showmanship, Ruger possesses a sonic malleability and fluidity that makes him one of the few artists injecting new life into Nigerian Pop. Since his 2021 breakout hit “Bounce,” he has built a catalogue that leans heavily into Dancehall’s rhythmic elasticity, making it a core tenet of his artistic identity. That connection to Dancehall isn’t incidental. Ruger is a natural successor in a lineage of Nigerian artists who have long folded the genre’s DNA into their music, from percussive grits of the Konto and Galala architects – Marvelous Benji, Danfo Drivers, African China, and Stereoman – who, in the late 1990s and early 2000s, morphed its cadence into homegrown street sounds; to Cynthia Morgan, Patoranking, Timaya, and Burna Boy, who have ensured that the genre’s imprint in Nigerian Pop remained unmissable.

With ‘Pandemic,’ his debut EP, and its follow-up, ‘The Second Wave,’ Ruger fashioned himself into a swashbuckling maverick, laced his music with profanities, and delivered it all with a devil-may-care embrace of hedonism. By the time he had stamped himself as both a hitmaker and one of Afropop’s most assured new voices, his debut album, ‘Ru The World,’ crested that peak in his artistry and firmly stands as a totem of his artistic ambitions. 

As 2024 rolled in, Ruger severed ties with D’Prince’s Jonzing World and stepped into a new phase with the launch of his new imprint, “Blown Boy Entertainment.” Since then, the pink-haired hitmaker has operated with even greater autonomy and continues to push his artistry further while embracing a bolder sense of self. In a moment that caught many off guard, he put aside his publicised online feud with BNXN to deliver the surprise joint EP, ‘RnB’ in 2024. Even before his latest project, ‘BlownBoy Ru,’ Ruger remained relentless, consistently rolling out melodic, club-ready records that reinforced his knack for crafting undeniable anthems. A collaboration with Tiwa Savage on the pre-released “Toma Toma” saw him tapping into the raw, percussion-heavy bounce of Baile Funk.

For every young Nigerian artist who grew up with the odds stacked against them, the ultimate dream is to “blow” – to cement a place in the saturated industry and extend their reach beyond borders. Ruger is one of those dreamers who made it happen. Now, with his sophomore album, ‘BlownBoy Ru,’ Ruger affirms an undeniable truth. He has blown, and nearly five years after his first hit single, there’s no question about it.

Much of the sonic architecture of ‘BlownBoy Ru’ is engineered by Kukbeatz, the longtime producer behind Ruger’s sound since his breakout, ensuring that his Dancehall-inflected style remains both distinct and immersive. That chemistry is on full display from the album’s opener, “REintroduction,” a fiery, chest-thumping song where Ruger reasserts his dominance over a propulsive Dancehall rhythm.

His patois-laced delivery oozes bravado as he declares, “Right from SS3, that’s when I knew that I’m gonna be a big star,” with the assurance of someone who has always had sight of the bigger picture. That rhythmic switch-up toward the song’s outro – where the hard-edged groove gives way to a Northern band’s chant-like refrain – is a deliberate moment of expansiveness and a nod to the growing wave of Northern sonic influences seeping into mainstream Nigerian Pop. 

The balance between familiarity and expansion is a recurring motif that runs through “BlownBoy Ru.” At its core, the album thrives on Ruger’s ability to craft irresistible earworms that reflect his  swaggering bravado and romantic entanglements. “Muah”(Soulmates) is a prime example: a scintillating, slow bop peppered with sensual guitar riffs that see Ruger play the smooth-talking lover boy trying to woo a love interest. “Baby nwa, tell me the reason why / Why you no wan kiss muah?” he sings, his delivery laidback but insistent. He swaps the smooth-talker persona for outright flexing. “Giveaway” finds him teaming up with Zlatan over a drilled-out beat. “Na mint full my jeans / We dey do giveaway,” he boasts, but it’s Zlatan who steals the show. It’s a track that highlights one of Ruger’s strengths: knowing when to let his collaborators shine without losing control of the song’s momentum.

Still, even in his most boastful moments, there’s an undeniable self-awareness of his playboy persona on the pre-released “Jay Jay” – named after the Nigerian football legend, Jay-Jay Okocha – he draws a parallel between his smooth navigation of romance and the ex-footballer’s dazzling footwork on the pitch. “She asking, ‘Boy, what are we?’ / We better be what we have been,”  he croons with his voice coasting over the punchy Dancehall groove. It’s a sentiment he circles back to on “Dudu,” a slow-wine of a track that sees him trade verses with the Jamaican Dancehall singer Kranium, to craft a late-night burner soaked in hedonistic indulgence. Yet, despite his insistence on keeping affections surface-level, vulnerability flickers in the shadows. On “Rub Minds,” he lets his guard down and craves something deeper: “Send me your location, baby / Maybe make I rub minds with you.”

There’s an undeniable pull toward regret on “Wish You Well,” featuring the Jamaican Dancehall star Valiant. Ruger wishes an ex-lover well, even as the emotions in his voice betray the pretense of moving on. That thread of romantic reckoning continues on the moodier cut, “Toro,” a slow but memorable Afropop jam where he acknowledges his faults and pleads for reconciliation. If the album’s first part is littered with sexual indulgence, its second is shaded with the reality that even the smoothest playboy isn’t immune to heartbreak.

The album doesn’t shy away from its more unfiltered moments. “99”  is heavily laced with profanity. On “Runaway,” which enlists Reggae and Dancehall act Haile, he finds himself stuck in the throes of a toxic relationship. The striking verses peppered with log drums give the track an urgent, kinetic pulse. That braggadocio returns full throttle on “Hell Cat,” where Ruger channels his patois delivery once again.

On album closer “BlownBoy Anthem,” Ruger steps into full disclosure mode with the Kukbeatz-produced track. First teased as a freestyle in the wake of his departure from Jonzing World, the track is a gloves-off reckoning with his journey so far – his wins, his lessons, and the steadfast self-belief that has carried him through. The song’s most cutting moment arrives when he sings, “And I denounce every loyalty to some godfather, This year I’m about me.” It is a line that is perhaps intended as a direct shot to his former label boss. As an artist that is ever attuned to pop culture references, Ruger taps into the viral mantra that became the unofficial slogan of 2024 – “No gree for anybody” – when he sings “This year we no go gree for anybody, Pa, pa, pow for anybody.”

Ruger’s choice of collaborators on ‘BlownBoy Ru’  is as deliberate as his artistic direction. His Dancehall-inflected sound has long positioned him as a bridge between Nigerian Pop and the Caribbean’s rhythmic lineage, and here, he deepens that connection. The presence of Kranium, Valiant, and Haile reveals his commitment to a sonic identity that thrives on Dancehall’s pulsating energy. Longtime collaborator Kukbeatz also plays a crucial role in ensuring Ruger’s signature sound remains intact, but this time, the production stretches its limbs, exploring sharper drum patterns, and an expanded palette that dips into R&B, Brazilian funk, and drill. 

And yet, for all its sonic influences, ‘BlownBoy Ru,’ is unmistakably a Ruger album, draped in his signature mix of sensuality, vulgarity, and the kind of unfiltered braggadocio that has long been Ruger’s trademark sound. But this time, there’s more braggadocio, more chest-thumping, and a sharper assertion of self.  At times, this confidence teeters into unsettling territory. On “Jay Jay,” he shrugs off emotional entanglements when he sings, “If a girl worry me, I delete her / Put her inside the bin bag.” It is a jarring line that makes his smooth-talking bravado feel more callous than playful, and one that drew loud criticism from female listeners, who found it insensitive especially considering the gender-based violence that continues to pervade Nigerian society. Still, at its core, ‘BlownBoy Ru’ sidesteps the dreaded sophomore slump with a bold and cohesive body of work that encapsulates the thrill, turbulence, romance, and victories that come with rapid ascent. A reflection of a young pop star moving with certainty and fully in control of his craft. 

Review: Joeboy’s “Viva Lavida”

 

On Joeboy’s third album, ‘Viva Lavida,’ it’s clear he has not gotten tired of loving wholeheartedly, or writing the most heartwarming music about it. In 2019 he shot to the limelight via his Love and Light’ EP, brimming with a puppy love that many assumed would wear off after life’s harsh heartbreaks melt his affectionate side, as they so often do. His debut seemed a little too naive at times: “Beginning” had him place all of his possessions on offer, up to and including his life, in exchange for the affections of a woman he was only beginning to fall in love with. Even breakup tracks carried emotional weight: on “Don’t Call Me Back” he speedruns all five stages of grief in under three minutes, eventually landing on a half-sure acceptance: “Don’t call me back when you see say I don dey with another kele.”

Six years later, the 27-year-old Joeboy has not dulled his sense of love and passion, much to the benefit of his audience. His debut album, 2021’s Somewhere Between Beauty & Magic’ did not allocate the overwhelming proportion to love songs that his debut EP did, but when he did love he loved hard: on “Focus,” “Lonely,” “Door,” and “Show Me,” he showed this side of him most earnestly, and those are indeed the songs that resonate most with listeners, and in turn, have reaped the largest commercial returns. 

Joeboy is an artist that defies placement and categorization. In an industry of Big Threes, new Big Threes, and other such strata, he remains largely in his own lane. It’s partly a function of an approach to his career that prioritises promoting the art over the artist, which is good. But it also reflects a sense of stagnation that has hovered over his career the last few years. At his breakout, he was a member of a small contingent of stars – including Rema and Fireboy – destined to rule Nigerian music in its next half-decade, or about now. Today, he’s outgrown “upcoming” classifications by any metric, but has not arrived at the destination his debut charted for him. It puts him in an awkward spot in a country that enjoys ranking its talents. 

Two years ago, ‘Body And Soul’ was an ambitious attempt to solidify his status beyond doubt. It was packed with very successful singles like “Contour” and “Alcohol,” even though the latter was over a year old at that point and hardly fit into the album’s narrative. The record in its majority possessed endearing characteristics, particularly Joeboy’s eye for affectionate music, and the harmony of him intermingling with other honey-toned vocalists like Oxlade, Kemena, and CKay. 

After a fairly amicable split with music artist-turned-mogul Mr. Eazi and his emPawa record label, Joeboy is back in charge of his career. His new self-owned label, Young Legend Ltd., grants him a fresh start, and his first album under the imprint reflects the freedom he operates with. Where another artist in his position might feel pressured to reinvent himself to keep up with the industry’s shifts, Joeboy instead leans deeper into the elements that have defined his artistry so far. In some places he is nearly as dewy eyed as the teenager that debuted with “Baby Girl” eight years ago, like on album opener “Innocent”: “And the other day wey you wonjour me/ See I still come through and I pamper you/ Anytime your heart break oh/ If you tell Joeboy pon deck, I will plaster you.”

In true Joeboy fashion, ‘Viva Lavida’ exposes the full spectrum of romantic affairs, from flirtatious fun numbers that narrate the beginning of a relationship – “Magdalene” highlights sexual attraction against an irreverent backdrop of the New Testament – to more morose tracks that paint the sad, slow end of one. “SMH” and “Streets Are Lonely” find him down the same dark alley as “Don’t Call Me Back”“If you don’t love me just say it/ You really wanna leave just say it,” he sings on the latter.

‘Viva Lavida’ is his first album without Mr. Eazi as executive producer. Among the cohort of his replacements is Tempoe, the genius behind megahits from Omah Lay, CKay and Joeboy himself. The producer stamps his foot heavily on the album’s musical direction, wearing hats from songwriting to production to co-helming “SMH.” The album benefits greatly from his input, allowing Joeboy to explore a range of sonic pockets within his midtempo Afropop scope. Percussion is colourful and varied, from the Hausa-influenced groove of “Free Of Charge,” to which a brilliant Olamide lends a verse, to the Pon Pon rhythm of “SMH,” which is built on a sample of Indian singer Srinivas’ “Neela Nilave.. Perhaps Tempoe’s greatest contribution to ‘Viva Lavida,’ though, is his unexpected lending of backup vocals – serenading verses on “Abena” and the silky choruses of “Streets Are Lonely” and “Madgalene.” A dose of brilliant mixing, mostly provided by Oxygen, another executive producer, grants these layered vocals a lush summative shine. Joeboy scripted ‘Viva Lavida’ (which translates as “live life”) as an ode to life and love; the role of his co-creators is to make the album sound as colourful as it reads. They are probably a major reason why Joeboy, presenting his fifth project in six years, can still sound as fresh as he does on ‘Viva Lavida.’

Another of Joeboy’s favorite collaborators, Kemena, returns here, making his mark behind the boards for “Innocent” and “Streets Are Lonely.” Another well delivered feature – a la “The Best For You” off ‘Body And Soul’ – would have fit neatly into this album, but Joeboy goes in a different direction with his guests this time, favouring diversity over homogeneity. Elana Dara, Brazilian singer and a well-picked feature, is one of the album’s brightest sparks, slotting brilliantly beside Joeboy on “Sunset.” They duet for some of the album’s most important lines, longing for “Someone to call my own/ somewhere to call my own.” Sometimes love is simply about finding a safe space in someone else. 

Wizard Chan arrives to close out the album with “I’ll Be Okay,” a sequel to “Alone” off his 2024 album ‘The Messenger,’ that ties up the loneliness that track bemoaned – “I steady focus on my race/ ‘Cause I know nobody will feel my pain/ If I make mistake or if I fail” – in a neat religious bow: “I’ll throw my pain and sorrows away/ Okay, I’ll be okay… He turned the water into wine/ And so he will turn my pain too.” This feature stands out for how it veers from the album’s set direction, but it is preceded by a pair of songs that began the path to the divine: “Hey Father” and “Sinner.” Joeboy’s dive into religion in search of introspection is both novel and laudable, especially against the backdrop of contemporary Afropop, but it hardly fits well with the rest of the album that comes before.

If ‘Viva Lavida’ has any real weakness, it is in the lukewarm writing that hampers some of its choruses. He may not get as many “pen game” plaudits as many of his peers (and he does not shop for them, either), but Joeboy is one of the better romance songwriters of his generation, one of a few who would take the time to spell out desire when a lazy innuendo would serve for most. A few choruses here find him guilty of the same: in the vacuous repetitiveness of “Dance, Abena, Dance” on “Abena,” and his materialistic, haphazard approach on Adenuga: “My money plenty, Adenuga/ You’re driving me crazy like a uber/ Come and chop all my kaluba.” If Joeboy wishes to remain on the creative pedestal his music has placed him on thus far, he will need to steer clear of Afropop’s cheap tropes. 

Still, ‘Viva Lavida’’s flaws are so few and far between that they do not morph into a hindrance to its listening experience, only an unwelcome distraction. For the most part, Joeboy’s new album proves he can maintain his image as the famed loverboy even after being separated from the label that helped him shape it. It gets uneven in places, but a mixture of introspective depth, collaborative and cultural diversity and Joeboy’s seemingly inexhaustible wealth of lovelorn writing makes it another solid addition to his arsenal.

RAMPA LAGOS SERVES UP AN AFROHOUSE SPECTACLE 

Lagos has long been Nigeria’s unrivaled party capital. Still, when Keinemusik’s Rampa was announced as the headliner for an exclusive Afrohouse rave, the city’s electronic music faithfuls braced for something different. This wasn’t just another rave night — it was a statement. Produced by M.E Entertainment, a new player in Nigeria’s event space, the rave promised a fusion of global house finesse and Lagos’s homegrown energy.  

But ambition comes with friction. From the jump, the strict ticketing system set the tone: press who arrived after the event’s start time reported hurdles at the door – somewhat understandable when you count the fact that they were advised to come as early as the opening sets so their passes would be sorted first. Meanwhile, the lineup – a mix of international allure and local heavyweights like Aniko, Blak Dave, TXC, JarLight, and more – had fans debating whether the best of Lagos’ talent was given the spotlight they deserved.  

By the time the night peaked, it was clear this event would be remembered for more than just the music. Between Burna Boy and Olamide’s surprise appearances, a celebrity security scuffle, and Rampa’s hypnotic command of the CDJ-3000, the rave became a microcosm of Lagos itself: rousing, chaotic, and impossible to ignore.  

The Velvet Rope Experience

If there was ever any doubt that Lagos’ nightlife thrives on exclusivity, this event erased it. The ticket prices were well above the city’s usual rave standards, so consequently, the crowd was a mix of high-net-worth partygoers and die-hard Afrohouse fans willing to splurge. The Royal Box Event Centre, a relatively new venue in the city’s entertainment circuit, did a good job of justifying its percentage of the ticket prices — it was spacious and air-conditioned, well-rigged for electronic music lighting, and fitted with a sound system that delivered every kick and synth swell with precision.  

But the real spectacle was the guest list. Burna Boy arrived mid-show, slipping on stage while Rampa spun his hit “Say What.” Olamide, Naomi Campbell, and London soon joined him amidst all the pomp, and before long, the rest of Lagos music and music business royalty were on stage, drinks in hand, partying with Rampa and the rest of the DJ lineup. 

The crowd’s energy surged each time a new celebrity was spotted, but so did the tension. At one point, a scuffle broke out between security details of two high-profile attendees, a brief but jarring disruption that underscored the night’s underlying friction: Was this a rave or a status flex? The heavy police and private security presence, while expected at an event of this caliber, occasionally felt more suited to a political summit than a house music gathering.  

From Start To Finish

The music, for its part, was never in question.  

Blak Dave and Aniko, two of Lagos’ most respected selectors, opened the night with a percussive, groove-heavy warm-up, weaving together Afrohouse, Three-Step, and Melodic House influences. Their sets were masterful, but the early slots meant much of the crowd was still trickling in. Tariq, an attendee, would later wonder – why wasn’t either given peak hours? Lagos knows and loves these DJs, and their relegation to the opening acts felt like a missed opportunity.  

The energy shifted when TXC, the South African female DJ duo, took over. Famous for their electric set at the 2022 FIFA World Cup, their performance this past Sunday was no different. Their set did a great job of blending tribal rhythms with contemporary Afrohouse bangers. By the time Remixia, Massuma, and Daecolm cycled through, the dance floor was a notably diverse sea of swaying bodies in small nuclear clusters, sweat glistening under the venue’s laser-cut lighting.  

Then came Rampa. The Keinemusik co-founder stepped up just past midnight, and from the first drop, “Thandaza,” a collaborative gem with &Me and Adam Port, he had the crowd in a trance. His set was a journey, ebbing between deep, meditative grooves and explosive peaks. At one point, Burna Boy and Olamide joined him on stage, grinning as the crowd roared. For all the celebrity distractions, this was the night’s purest moment: a global house icon and Nigeria’s biggest stars, in rhythmic consonance.

There was yet another surprise at the end. JarLight, tasked with closing, refused to let the night die. At 5:03 AM, with the sun threatening to rise, he abruptly spun his set to an end, which in turn made the residual crowd persistently request one more song. When he finally relented, dropping a final, unreleased ID, the exhaustion was palpable — but so was the euphoria.  

Venue & Production – A New Standard for Lagos?  

In a city where even high-end venues often struggle with sound bleed, poor ventilation, or overcrowding, Royal Box Event Centre delivered. The acoustics were crisp, the lighting was immersive without being overwhelming (as depicted in the tidbits of social media posts that have been pouring in), and the layout was spacious yet intimate, allowing free movement without killing the vibe.  

Behind the scenes, M.E Entertainment, despite being first-timers, executed a largely seamless production. There were some hiccups – overzealous security, press access issues, and perhaps a reliance on star power to carry the night. But for a debut event, the ambition was admirable. Lagos’ nightlife scene is notoriously unforgiving, and M.E proved they could play in the big leagues

Celebration or Controversy?  

In the days following the event, social media buzzed with polarised takes. Plenty hailed the rave as a watershed moment for Afrohouse in Nigeria, proof that Lagos could host world-class electronic music events. A rather conspicuous few critiqued its VIP-heavy atmosphere, arguing that the essence of a rave – community, freedom, and a music-first ethos – was diluted by celebrity spectacle.  

The scheduling of local DJs also sparked some murmurs. Should Aniko and Blak Dave have been given prime slots, or was their role as openers a strategic choice to ease the crowd into the night? And while Rampa’s set was transcendent, did the high ticket prices justify the experience for those who came purely for the music?  

A Night of Extremes, and You Know What? Fair.

This rave was a collision of contrasts. On one hand, there was Rampa’s flawless set, JarLight’s unforgettable close, and a venue that raised the bar – and on the other, exclusivity overkill and a nagging sense that Lagos’ homegrown talent deserved more shine. But maybe that’s the point. Lagos is a city of extremes, and its nightlife reflects that. This event was a cultural snapshot, capturing the city’s relentless ambition, contradictions, and undying love for music that moves the body and soul.  

KEMENA FINDS BALANCE

A little over two weeks after the release of his first project of 2025, Kemena and I sat down to discuss the joys of creating art, the clarity that powers ‘888,’ and the freedom he found in surrendering to his path. Even though we were speaking virtually, his presence feels steady. He is speaking with the quiet confidence that defines his music–intentional yet fluid, deeply personal yet resonant. Over the years, his artistry has evolved, shaped by a desire for creative independence and the pressures of an industry that often demands compromise.

With ‘888,’ Kemena has reclaimed his space. The project neither chases the mainstream nor rejects it; instead, it exists on its terms, rooted in self-assurance. Across seven tracks, he weaves through stories with a sharp lyrical style and layered production, a testament to an artist fully in tune with his craft. In many ways, ‘888’ feels like an arrival—not to the commercial peak the industry might expect, but to something more valuable: a place of artistic certainty.

Standout tracks like “Rainy Day” and “Bola” remind you that Kemena is a storyteller in more ways than one. On “Rainy Day” he flexes his production prowess but the summery vibe of the song does not blunt the sentimentality of his lyricism. With “Bola,” Kemena taps into his element, deploying witty puns and his brilliant approach of social commentary and “I’m not mad, just hungry” is as relatable as it is envy-worthy—to be so intertwined with a lover that they can complete your lines.

Totaling seven tracks with a runtime of 16 minutes, ‘888’ is brief but expansive, a collection of ruminative thoughts, nimble melodies, and declarations of self-assurance. There is no hesitance in Kemena’s voice when he speaks about the album, no lingering doubt about whether he made the right choices, which is the same confidence he’s communicating in “You don’t need me”. ‘888’ is the product of someone who knows who they are and, more importantly, knows that they do not have to prove it to anyone. From the powerful declaration of “I Will Never” to the easy groove of “Evelyn’s Vibration,” the album takes you on a journey. It is a return to himself, a rekindling of the mindset he had before industry expectations clouded his creative instincts. It is also reminiscent of ‘Bond,’ the project that first put him on the radar of music lovers.

“I made ‘Bond’ as a student,” he reflected during our conversation. “I wasn’t trying to be anything. I just wanted to make music. And then all of a sudden, people started calling me—people I never expected. That was how I got into songwriting for other artists. But somewhere along the line, I forgot what it felt like to make music just because I wanted to.” When I asked him how he found his way back, his answer was certain: “I stopped overthinking. I just made what felt right.”

Our conversation, lightly edited, follows.

888’ just dropped. How are you feeling?

I feel cool. It’s been nice. I feel like a celebrity, to be honest. I’ve done a couple of interviews already, and I feel like I’m saying the same thing over and over again. But that’s a good thing, right?

888’ feels different from ‘Guitars and Malaria.’ Did you approach this project differently?

888’ feels like me making music the way I want to again. With ‘Guitars and Malaria,’ there were a lot of industry conversations and people saying, “Work with this guy, collaborate with that person, do this to make the music more commercial.” I don’t regret making that album, but looking back, I think I was trying to fit into something instead of just being myself. I wouldn’t say I lost myself completely but, I lost the balance between the business and my authenticity. I started to feel like my music wasn’t valid unless it was getting industry attention. And for a while, I was chasing that. I was doing what I thought I should be doing, instead of what I wanted to do. I had to learn that I’m probably a project artist. I needed to stop feeling like my music wasn’t enough just because it wasn’t ‘blowing up.’

I started thinking about why people liked ‘Bond’ and, back then, I wasn’t overthinking it. I was a student just making music because I loved it. I wasn’t trying to force anything. But then, suddenly, things started happening—I started getting calls from people I never expected. That’s actually how I got into songwriting for other artists. People in the industry heard ‘Bond,’ reached out, and asked me to write for them. And before I knew it, I was deep in that world. But in the process, I started to forget what it felt like to just make music for me.

Was there a specific moment that made you realize you needed to return to that authenticity?

Yeah. At some point, I just stopped overthinking. I realized [that] I didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. I didn’t have to chase industry validation. I could just make what felt right. That’s where ‘888’ came from.

One of the things that stands out about your music is how it feels both deeply personal and universally relatable. Do your lyrics come from lived experiences?

Not exactly. I think the way my music is put together—the energy, the emotions—is influenced by what I’m going through at the time. But the actual content? Almost none of it comes from my personal life. I don’t write songs like, “Oh, this happened to me, let me put it in a song.” Instead, I take a feeling, a perspective, or something I’ve observed and build a fictional story around it. I also like humor. I like to be witty, to play with words in a way that feels natural but unexpected. That’s always been part of my music.

That makes sense. Your lyrics often have a layered meaning like they say one thing on the surface, but there’s a deeper story underneath.

Exactly. I like to phrase things in ways that make people stop and think. I want someone to hear a line and go, “I’ve thought about this before, but I never knew how to put it into words.” Or sometimes, I just want the music to feel good. It doesn’t always have to make sense, it just has to resonate.

Would you say that’s why artists like Omah Lay and Jon Bellion resonate with you? Because they do something similar with their songwriting?

Yes! Jon Bellion especially. His music is almost like sermons sometimes. He says things in a way that makes you pause and reflect. Like in “Conversations with My Wife,” when he sings, “What if all the things I’ve done were just attempts at earning love? Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep” That’s the kind of songwriting that gets to me. That’s such a simple way to express love. He could have said it in a hundred different ways, but he chose that one. That’s what I admire. Not just what they’re saying, but how they say it.

That approach is very present in your music, especially in ‘888.’ What’s your favorite lyrical moment on the album?

It’s a conversation. It’s not one person talking. On ‘I will never,’ there’s this part where one voice says, “The things you want for me, I want it too. The things you like for me, I like it too.” And then another voice—almost like a god-like figure—responds: “Hope you know that I would never say something I don’t mean.” That moment feels special to me. It’s basically a prayer, but I don’t like to box my lyrics in, I keep it open-ended.

With the album it feels like you weren’t just making music but you were reclaiming something. Would you say this project is a turning point for you?

Yes, I think so. It’s not my first turning point, though. ‘Bond’ was the first one. ‘Bond’ was the project that put me in rooms I never expected to be in. Before that, I was just a student making music. Then, suddenly, people were calling me—people I respected. That was how I got into songwriting for other artists. But then, in trying to navigate that world, I lost a bit of myself. ‘Guitars and Malaria’ was me trying to find that balance, and ‘888’ is me realizing that I don’t have to balance anything, I just have to be.

You’ve mentioned that you’re at peace with not chasing commercial success. Is there a part of you that wants mainstream recognition?

If it comes, great. But I’m not going to force it. I know how the game works. I’ve written for big artists, so I know the kind of songs that work in that space. And if I wanted to, I could sit down and make those songs. I could make music that fits neatly into what’s trending. But that’s not why I do this.

Does songwriting for other artists help you keep your music pure?

Yes! That’s a big part of it. Since I also write and produce for other artists, I don’t have to rely on my music to pay my bills. That takes a lot of pressure off. It means I can release what I want, when I want, without thinking, “Will this chart? Will this go viral?”

That freedom must be refreshing.

It is and it’s why I don’t overthink my releases anymore. I’m constantly creating. So when something feels ready, I put it out. I don’t have to wait for industry validation or the “perfect” timing.

What does that mean for the future? More projects?

A lot more. I’ve realized that my way forward is to just keep giving. The Lord has put me in a position where I can create without stress, so that’s what I’m going to do. No long breaks. No holding back. I’ll just keep releasing.

What is the biggest takeaway from ‘888’ for you?
That you don’t have to force anything. Whether it’s love, creativity, or success—what’s meant for you will come when you’re aligned with yourself. And if you have to fight too hard to keep something, maybe it was never really yours to begin with.

Review: ‘Best of Both Worlds’ by Kel P and Wande Coal

 

Listening now to ‘Mushin 2 Mohits,’ Wande Coal’s landmark 2009 release and only album with Mo’ Hits Records, it’s clear to see how this classic debut became arguably the most influential Afropop album of all time. At the time of release, this sleek, urbane, heavily synthesised masterpiece shared little ground with its contemporaries. The album merged stadium-sized hits (“Bumper To Bumper,” “Who Born The Maga”), sweeping ballads (“Ololufe”) with raw and uncompromising sonic experimentation – thanks to production mogul Don Jazzy – in a way that was uncommon prior to its release. Wande Coal’s lyricism, rhythmic knowledge and seamless fusion of local and foreign influences were also revolutionary at the time, expanding the parameters of Pop music in Nigeria and creating a unique style that serves as a blueprint for many to this day. 

Almost 16 years later, Wande Coal has yet to hit the heights of his classic debut. It’s well documented at this point: a hostile split from the now-defunct Mo’Hits Records meant that his lukewarm sophomore ‘Wanted’ wouldn’t arrive until 2015, seven years after the release of ‘Mushin 2 Mo’Hits.’ And while the long-awaited follow-up album featured moments of brilliance on a few zippy records like “Ashimapyein” and “Monster,” it was bogged down by a bloated tracklist that lacked the focus and innovation of its predecessor. Subsequent releases, however sporadic and polarizing, have also lacked the spark that famously earned him the Black Diamond moniker many years ago. While the veteran singer still retains his mastery of melodies and a one-of-a-kind voice, his mercurial nature over the past decade or so has forced a resignation that he might not be able to rediscover the magic of his epochal debut. 

His latest project ‘Best Of Both Worlds,’ a low-stakes late-career collaborative EP with GRAMMY Award-winning producer Kel-P, is arguably his sturdiest release in years. Unlike ‘Realms,’ which was anchored by “Again,” his biggest single in recent times and his third studio album ‘Legend Or No Legend’ which featured heavy hitters like Wizkid, T-Pain and Olamide, ‘Best Of Both Worlds’ arrives with little promotion and no additional guests. It’s just Kel-P and Wande Coal finally capitalizing on a long-simmering artistic connection that began years ago.  

Even with a lean tracklist and a short runtime, it’s clear that ‘Best Of Both Worlds’ is the product of a shared musical synergy that only comes from a place of deep and constant creative practice. “Wande Coal and I met in 2019 and made one song. Then we didn’t see each other for a while, and when we saw each other again, we just began to record music together again. We caught a vibe, and never knew we’d be making a body of work or an album – we were just making music,” Kel-P said in a recent interview, explaining how the project came together. 

Through the EP’s 5 tracks, Kel-P provides refined, groovy beats – replete with lush piano chords, his signature percussive elements and clean guitar riffs – creating an atmosphere that accentuates the veteran singer’s pristine harmonies and vocals. ​​On the title track, Wande Coal switches through multiple melodious flows over buoyant percussion and a funky guitar loop that begs for some dance moves. “18 years in the game I no tire tire / Na why the young boys them dey copy my entire” he sings cockily, reminding everyone of his luminary status. 

On “Old Soldier,” the upbeat lead single released in late 2024, Wande Coal flexes his vocal dexterity while reinforcing his tenacity as he repeatedly sings the popular Yoruba adage “Old soldier no go die unless to ba di arugbo” on the single’s sonorous hook. “Ejo,” the EP’s lush and seductive centerpiece fuses Afropop and R&B to great effect. Kel-P’s production here is sparse, leaving ample room for Wande Coal’s sultry flow and lyricism to shine. On the breezy closer “Die For You,” Wande Coal’s falsetto and sticky sweet nothings effortlessly float over Kel-P’s drums as he performs with a clear-eyed brilliance that brings to mind some of the singer’s finest ballads. 

With a tracklist of just 5 songs, it’s difficult to make a case for ‘Best Of Both Worlds’ being Wande Coal’s best work post ‘Mushin 2 Mo’Hits.’ However, what ‘Best Of Both Worlds’ lacks in length and perhaps sonic experimentation, it makes up for in dexterity, focus and cohesion, qualities that have been lacking in some of the veteran’s last few projects.

 

Afropop is the love child of its many influences

Over the last two and a half years, some of Afropop’s biggest stars have denounced the genre to advance their personal agendas. In a wide-ranging interview from 2023 with Apple Music’s Zane Lowe just ahead of the release of his last album, ‘I Told Them…,’ Burna Boy derided Afrobeats for a perceived lack of contextual subject matter. “Afrobeats, as people call it, it’s mostly about nothing, literally nothing,” he said. “There’s no substance to it. Nobody’s talking about anything. It’s just a great time, it’s an amazing time. But at the end of the day, life is not an amazing time.” 

Just a few months later, Nigerian music superstar, Wizkid, also disavowed the genre, claiming that he was not an Afrobeats act and that his then-forthcoming album, ‘Morayo,’ would not be an Afrobeats album as he considered the genre – and the classification it infers – too limiting for the type of music he made. Predictably, fans were incensed by both artists’ stances and the casual dismissal of the genre that their statements invited. What was almost lost in the whirlwind of that discourse is that for all the attempts to capture the totality of African music under the loaded ‘Afrobeats’ label, African music has never been just one thing; and, in that spirit, Afrobeats itself has always been all-welcoming of a multiplicity of influences and styles.

From its earliest iteration, Afropop has always been a potpourri of sounds that took influences from various parts of the Black diaspora and distilled them with an African sensibility. The work of early Afrobeats pioneers like Junior and Pretty is a direct descendant of the burgeoning Hip-Hop blueprint of the ‘80s; while the early 2000s popularity of Ajegunle-based rabble-rousers like Daddy Showkey, Danfo Drivers, and African China occurred tangentially to the rising profile of Reggae on a global scale. The mid-2000s to early 2010s saw the arrival of several dulcet-toned singers like Banky W and Tiwa Savage rooted in the R&B and Soul traditions, introducing a slicker dimension to Nigerian popular music. As always, homegrown stars adapted these foreign styles for their own market while continuing to work on a distinctive style that centered genuine indigenous expression and ingenuity. 

Over the years, the fruit of those experiments has ripened to produce a scene that’s bustling with life and talent. As the genre has attained global attention, many sub-genres have come to the fore, showcasing the depth of African music on a global scale. If Wizkid’s sonorous melodies and unbeatable charisma made him the sun of Afrobeats in the 2010s, Olamide’s militaristic bars and Pop anthems rooted in their street sensibilities mark him out as the genre’s moon. It was on Oamide’s back that a nascent indigenous rap circuit rested. Taking the mantle of DaGrin, the Bariga-raised rapper who helped institutionalize rapping in Nigerian languages with cult classics like “Eni Duro” and “Voice Of The Street.” Along with the effort of other stars like Reminisce, Phyno, Lil Kesh, and CDQ,  the indigenous rap movement gained steam and, recognizing the Nigerian market’s zest for melodies, soon morphed into Street-Pop, a distinct hybridization of local genres like Fuji, Apala, and Highlife. 

Inspired by the work of their forebearers, a new crop of artists have taken Street-Pop to new heights. Zlatan and Naira Marley served as a transitory generation; together with Rexxie, they patented a more melodic take on Street-Pop while infusing a devil-may-care disposition that launched them to the top of Nigerian music. It is fitting that Olamide was the one to hand the baton to Asake, the biggest Street-Pop star of the moment. Similar to the YBNL head’s legendary album run, Asake has released three albums and one extended play in three years, each coming out to a world paying more and more attention to his work. Impressively, Asake has also established himself as a global touring star, regularly playing sold out arena concerts across the world with a music style that is rooted in Yoruba oral tradition. 

Asake is not spreading the Street-Pop gospel alone, though. Ikorodu star, Seyi Vibez, has also grabbed mainstream attention for his gritty take on the genre. Initially a divisive figure, his 2023 song, “Different Pattern,” saw him reach a new level of cultural relevance in 2024 and his new extended play, ‘Children Of Africa,’ arrived in February 2025, marking a new era in his career. The yearning for a reclamation of cultural heritage that has created a Street-Pop golden era has not evaded other parts of Nigeria. Shallipopi’s drawling, sprawled-out sound mimics the playful pulse of South-South pidgin while Jeriq, hailing from Nigeria’s South-East, has emerged as one of Nigeria’s most acclaimed rappers. Outside Nigeria, there’s a yearning in Ghana to preserve the purity and history of its Highlife genre, an elemental component of Afrobeats. British-Ghanaian producer, Juls’, ‘PALMWINE DIARIES’ and ‘High Life Sessions,’ both pulsate with the beguiling riffs of the storied genre while the work of Nigerian brother-duo, The Cavemen, is reintroducing Eastern Nigerian highlife to a new generation of listeners. 

A youth-led zest for exploration outside the framework of Afropop has also produced a sub-culture that rejects the tenets of mainstream conservatism. Beginning as a band of friends and collaborators who prioritized freewheeling experimentation, Alte music has emerged as one of the most important sonic evolutions of the last two decades. First championed by OG pioneers like DRB Lasgidi, LOS, and Show Dem Camp, the Alte community drew in left-field thinkers and madcap auteurs setting the stage for a new generation of stars to emerge from the depths of SoundCloud circa 2016. In the hands of stars like Odunsi (The Engine), Cruel Santino, and Lady Donli, the Alte experiment reached an unprecedented level of critical and commercial success. 

Odunsi’s ‘rare.,’ throbbing with influences from ‘70s Disco and Funk, sits in the canon of great Nigerian debuts and Lady Donli’s ‘Enjoy Your Life’ artfully melded Folk music with Afrobeat and Soul across its 15 tracks. Taken along with the work of producers like GMK and Genio Bambino, these acts built a community that successfully created the blueprint for a sound that reflected the tensions and joys of younger Nigerians who saw life in a specific fashion. It even took flight beyond the borders of Nigeria with a young Amaarae cutting her teeth working alongside some of the most prominent names in the Alte community. The inventiveness and clarity of vision that the community prioritises is evident across both of the Ghanaian-American artist’s albums, ‘The Angel You Don’t Know’ and ‘Fountain Baby.’ 

In a reversal of events at the turn of the 2000s when Afropop was heavily influenced by outside sounds and genres, music from the continent is profoundly reshaping the texture of music outside its borders. Much like how the Windrush Generation and other immigrants from the West Indies helped to introduce Britain to Reggae, Dancehall and Soca, generations of African immigrants are making music that signals their African heritage, with Afropop as a base influence. The rise in popularity of African sounds has helped UK artists mesh the lingo and sonics from the continent into their work, creating a new genre referred to as Afroswing. Taking influences from Afrobeat, Dancehall, and Grime, Afroswing is distinctive for its use of lyrics from Africa with British rapper, J Hus, credited as one of its pioneers. Songs like J Hus’ “Did You See,” Ramz’s “Barking,” and Not3s’s “Aladdin” signal to the sound of the homeland and speak to Afrobeats’ incredible stride to global popularity as a base reference point for global Black music. 

Nearly a decade out from “One Dance,” the Drake, Wizkid, and Kyla collab that pushed Afropop into a different stratosphere, the genre is in safe hands with several stars emerging across different sub-genres that speak to our past, present and future. It is perhaps more than the pioneers imagined when they were making music all those years ago, but all the roads have led here to Afropop being a global sensation that offers various forms of expression to a watching world. There are no limitations on what can be done within the genre, that sense of open-endedness and possibility was always our strength, and it’s why Afropop will stand the test of time. 

Review: “I Am The Blueprint” by Qing Madi

 

Before Qing Madi’s debut album was even on the horizon, she had already begun crafting her professional narrative, preparing whoever cared to listen for the fact that she is a Pop star per every sense of the word. “I always feel like I’m that person. I know I’m special, the type of music I make is special,” she said in an interview from January. Blessed with the right foundations grooming by a mother who was strongly aware of the gift bestowed upon her daughter, enrolling her in ballet classes and fixing her in the choirs of the various churches they attended along with an unwavering dedication to her larger vision, she has worked her way into the conversation of Afropop’s most talented rising stars. 

Hailing from Africa’s most populous country where the air is constantly charged and the people heavily constrained by socio-economic failings, seemingly unattainable dreams, uncertainty and hopelessness, it is rare to find a 17-year-old girl taking a seat at a table reserved for the small percentage of people who make it, especially in a challenging industry like Nigerian music.  But that was what Qing Madi set about doing: when her debut single, “See Finish,” hit the airwaves, there was a freshness to her sound, which leaned into R&B and not the regular upbeat Afrobeats sound ruling the mainstream charts. The reception to the single was every indication that another young superstar was on the rise.

If there’s one thing about  Qing Madi, every step she takes is calculated and her first album was going to be her statement to the world, reiterating the charm and fire powering her idiosyncrasies. But she didn’t just jump into it. After her debut single, a sophomore record “Why” gained her a burgeoning fanbase for speaking on bullying, a topic affecting a large number of teenagers. She was nudged further into the mainstream when “Ole” featuring Bnxn arrived. It was the biggest step yet on her methodical rise to the pinnacle of Afropop and arguably one of the best collaborations of 2023. The vision became clearer with her eponymous debut extended playlist, ‘Qing Madi,’ accompanied by a deluxe, home to the Chloe Bailey feature on “Vision Remix.

A lot has changed for the now 18-year-old star since then. Her previous releases reflected a somewhat unclear stance on her persona, exposing a gap between her perceived abilities and her embodiment of the title of Afropop’s’ youngest rising star. For instance, 22-year-old Ayra Starr’s signature appeal lies in her emphasis on age. It’s almost impossible to encounter Ayra Starr without being reminded of all she has accomplished at such a young age. Qing Madi, on the other hand, emerged onto the scene even younger than Ayra, yet this fact isn’t often emphasized—it’s almost as if she’s hesitant to claim the title. A perfect opportunity to reinforce her presence would have been riding the momentum of   “Ole,” to capitalize on the head-bopping “American Love” or the smooth synergy with Joeboy on “Adenuga,” and her immaculate delivery on DJ Neptune’s  “Honest.” 

Nonetheless, “I am the Blueprint” sees her far away from the hesitation, unearthing a far gutsier, more audacious energy. On the record — a solo effort with zero features — Qing Madi is bold, daring, self-assured and more than ready to conquer the world. It’s an energy that animates much of the songs on Blueprint, starting as soon as the intro comes on. “I know that I am destined. I gat all the potentials that they tell me…Sebi I can be what I want,” she sings on the mid-tempo JAD OH-produced record.  It is followed by a hankering for the Grammys at the top of her bucket list, reflecting the dream of one determined to leave her mark. 

As one would expect of a star her age, Qing Madi’s forte lies in her unending quest for romance, previously explored on  songs like “Ole” where she unfurls intrepid desires and lusts over another person’s partner; or the adventurous musings of a teenager drunk in love on “American Love,” or in the charged thirst for a blooming sex life with a lover on “Chargie.” In her short career, the singer has mastered the art of  wooing a love interest,  wholeheartedly leaning into one of the quirks of youthful exuberance and enjoying the intoxicating rush of love. With Qing Madi, the tingly feelings of having a crush take on a very intense form, while the music built around that feeling becomes a wholesome kind of group therapy thanks to her golden voice and gift for distilling the minutiae of those feelings into dance-ready anthems. 

On “Ali Bomaye,” Qing Madi is in her most passionate element, likening the mood to the charged moment between boxer Muhammad Ali, George Foreman and a revved-up audience edging Ali to take out his opponent. But she doesn’t mean this in a bad way. Instead, she sings happily, “You dey knock me off my feet like Ali Bomaye.” The song is enlivened by the  thrumming of  Prestige’s production, accentuating the warring ethos of this track. “Akanchawa” follows the same love path but her approach is straightforward, with no detours, just pure, intense affection. She remains steadfast in“Garden,” a song about wooing a lover. “A minute with me in the garden. So, won’t you gimme just one chance, chargie? Oh-ooh, see, I’m promising you nothing. Drop your doubts, and drop ’em farther,” she sings. The chorus is lush and moving, the kind that sticks with you after the first listen.

But it’s not always rosy in Qing Madi’s world. As much as love is a leading theme in most of her songs, she doesn’t shy away from being openly vulnerable about the pain that can hide between the cracks. Her debut single “See Finish,” was inspired by a debilitating friendship breakup; “Why” explored low self-esteem and bullying; and “Madi’s Medley” focused on depression and the aftermath of a harrowing betrayal. It gets even more intense on ‘Blueprint.’  

On “Feeling Alright,” she acknowledges the strains of survival, especially as a young woman in an often unforgiving industry: “On the grind you go sabi your place. This place woman dey turn to men.” It is a deeply introspective moment on the album where she directly confronts the reality of her journey. Then there’s heartbreak: “Damn It All” paints a vivid picture of betrayal as she sings, “If you let a man come close one time, e go drag your own… Damn all the time I dey play Mr nice guy.” 

The disappointment lingers in “It’s a Game,” where she questions her lover’s recklessness over a soulful instrumental: “How do you sleep at night? Now you know that everything you do affects me. Why do you act so wild, babe?” It’s a maturity that reveals itself in layers, showing that Qing Madi is not just about the love highs, but she has also experienced the lows of letting her heart yearn for companionship. Her vulnerability peaks on “Pressure,” where she casts all her despair on God, hoping she finds some comfort in the divine: “But the pressure, e wan dey killi me now. E wan dey killi me now. Holding Your hands, Lord. Make I no drag me down,” she soulfully sings. It is a raw, open plea that reveals the weight she carries as a young star navigating the wild world of superstardom. 

Despite the daunting agony that plagues these records, the popstar still finds a way to bridge the pain and deliver stellar mainstream bop on “Goosebumps” and “Favorite Psycho” a current TikTok favourite among her most loyal fanbase, and where her fame snowballed. Tuzi’s production prowess shines on the former as Madi’s vocals seamlessly float over the Bass guitar. The latter’s appeal comes from the “shey your body don see wetin you dey find since” line that has somehow graduated to a trendy humorous meme for the result of stubbornness in various relatable situations.  

When it seems like the journey is coming to an end, she solemnly approaches the PD produced “Right Here,” with sheer honesty and motivating clarity. “The money is not as peaceful, but I pray for you to have it,” she sings. She’s also keen to dispense some wisdom from her journey: “Popping bottles and doing drugs can be distracting. Focus on the needed and believe you gon have it all.” It is the final stamp on her story, the closing statement of an opening salvo from a young artist who has found her voice, her confidence, and her path. ‘I am the Blueprint’ is Qing Madi’s declaration of a refined identity fusing youthful exuberance, heartfelt storytelling, and the audacity to dream beyond boundaries. She is carving a legacy, and if this album is anything to go by, she is well on her way to becoming the very blueprint she claims to be.

Togo YEYE & VLISCO’s new collaboration is a celebration of Lomé’s thriving creative scene

Togo YEYE, a creative duo formed by Lomé-based creative director Malaika Nabillatou and London-based photographer Delali Ayivi, is a conceptual publication that was created to empower and champion Togo’s young fashion creatives. Since its inception in 2021, Togo YEYE has released several personal projects and has also partnered with a number of brands to further its hugely imaginative aesthetic mandate. For their latest collaboration, Togo YEYE teamed up with textile printing company VLISCO to present Blossoming Beauty. Tagged as a love letter to Togo’s creative community, the campaign captures Lomé’s scenic beauty alongside VLISCO’s vibrant prints with the aim of connecting the feminine grace of nature with identity and artistry.

 

 

What does Togo YEYE mean?

Malaika Nabilatou: My name is Malaika Nabilatou, I’m the creative director of Togo YEYE. I’m Togolese and I was born and grew up in Lomé. I see myself as a West African creative director and I’m working to be the best in a few years. Togo YEYE means new Togo in Ewe, one of the most popular languages spoken in the South of Togo.

What inspired you to create Togo YEYE?

Malaika Nabilatou: We started this project, my friend Delali and I, 5 years ago. We just wanted to show that Togolese youth are also creative. Togo YEYE is a community we are building for us by us. It wasn’t just a project for Delali and I. It’s become something for the creative scene of Lomé. Lomé is like our studio.

 

 

What role does Togolese culture play in your creative process?

Maryline Bolognima: For me, Togolese culture comes first. For example, in the South, there are the people of Anero. If you come, you can go to Anero. In the North, there are the Evals, so if you come to Togo, you’ll learn a lot.

What’s the most exciting part of working as a team on projects like this?

Malaika Nabilatou: I need to tell the truth, we dreamt about this campaign before [it happened]. When VLISCO contacted us, we were like wow. I can’t really explain how thankful we are to VLISCO for trusting us. Because it’s a risk that they took by trusting us, making that campaign here with our team and honestly we are going to keep it in our hearts for the rest of our lives.

 

Claudia Sodogbe: For me, it is the first big contract of my life that I had with Togo YEYE. I still remember, on the last day of the shoot, I was feeling nostalgic about separating from the teams and the others. It went well in any case, and I’m very grateful to have been on this project.

What has been your proudest moment as part of Togo YEYE?

Malaika Nabilatou: I think the proudest moment I had with this campaign was when I saw the result first on the website. When I saw the story, I was like “wow, we finally made it.”

The Cathartic Melodies Of Mereba

Mereba exudes a palpable warmth. When she speaks, as she did with me via Zoom one evening in late January, she’s gentle and perceptive, speaking in soft, meandering passages that paint an intimate portrait of the LA-based singer’s mind. Similarly, her stirring discography, which dates back to 2013, evokes a keen sense of serene intimacy. “I’m inspired by those little moments in life where you’re like “Ah that’s really beautiful,”” she tells me halfway into our conversation, making sense of the ethereal quality that her music possesses. “It could be an interaction between two people, it could be something in nature, it could be a memory I have. Those are the moments that drive me to go get my guitar and write a song.”

The 34-year-old singer, songwriter, producer and instrumentalist has been writing songs for as long as she can remember. Growing up between Alabama, North Carolina and Pennsylvania, as well as an unintended one-year stint in her father’s native Ethiopia, ensured that Mereba picked up a wealth of influences that would go on to inform her richly diverse and understated sound. After years living across multiple cities, she finally settled in Atlanta where she became a staple in the city’s indie music circuit. “There, I met my peers who I made music with and are still my peers to this day. People like J.I.D, 6LACK and my crew. We all were just coming up during a really rich time of music there so that was a big part of my journey,” she reminisces fondly. 

In the years that Mereba lived in Atlanta, she released 2013’s ‘Room For Living’ and ‘Kotton House Vol 1,’ two extended plays that neatly outline the foundations of the balmy and eclectic style that she would perfect years later, leaving ample room for her soothing vocals and evocative songwriting to shine. She also joined Spillage Village, a musical collective that comprises others like Earth Gang and JID, contributing to various releases like ‘Bears Like This Too Much’ and the critically acclaimed ‘Spilligion.’ Following her time in Atlanta, Mereba moved again, this time to Los Angeles, where she signed her first major record deal and released her debut album ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out.’

Since the release of ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out’ in 2019, Mereba has continued to hone her unique sound, continually experimenting and ironing out the rich textures of her temperate style on subsequent releases like 2021’s ‘AZEB.’ Ahead of the release of ‘The Breeze Grew A Fire,’ her first project in four years, we sat down with the LA-based singer to discuss the story behind her well-received debut, her various influences as well as the process of putting together her highly-anticipated new album. 

This is your first album in about five years. How are you feeling?

I feel really excited. I’m definitely excited to give my music back to the world again. I’m also ready for connection, performing the songs, and sharing these new stories. 

You’ve been making music for a long time now, but do you still feel any nerves before a major release like this?

I don’t know if it’s nerves. I think I feel anxious about the fact that the music is being released and people are going to hear it. But I guess I’m anxious in a good way for them to hear the music, to get to experience what I’ve been toiling away at and what I’ve been excited about for a while. It’s more like a good anxiety. 

I think the first time I came across your music was in 2019. I heard “Heatwave” with 6LACK off of your debut album ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out.’ I believe that album was sort of a breakthrough moment for you. Can you tell me a bit about how it came together?

That album coming together was quite a journey. I started ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out’ years before it came out. I had left Atlanta and moved to L.A at this point. I didn’t know so many people when I just moved and so I was kind of starting over in certain ways. I was writing a lot of songs that felt really powerful to me but they were sonically different from what I used to make before. I was also learning how to produce, I was in Ableton learning how to make beats and just produce my music. Because I didn’t know so many people, I couldn’t outsource some of these things so I was just experimenting on my sound on my own.

Over the years, the community that I was a part of in Atlanta, everyone started finding their way in music but we still stayed closely in touch even though I had moved to L.A. I featured on a song with J.I.D and that kind of got me back into making music properly again because at that point, I was working random jobs, my car got taken and I had to start taking the bus to work. I was living a completely different life. It was my friends that put me back in the zone. They would invite me to sessions and just remind me that I wanted to do this music thing. Then I started putting together songs I had made over the years like “Sandstorm” and “Heatwave” with 6LACK which we made way before the album came out and even my solo songs like “Black Truck.” Most of the songs on that album had come from that period where I was struggling but knowing I was meant for music somehow. 

How many years did it take to put your first album together?

I’ll say about four to five years. They say you write your first album for your whole life. “Highway 10” is the first song I made on that album. I made that song in 2014 and the album came out in 2019. In the years before the album came out I was signed to a bad record deal and I couldn’t get out, I couldn’t release music. All I could do was just create and that ended up forcing me to just hone in on my sound.

After your debut, you released an EP titled ‘AZEB’ two years later. Listening to that project, it felt lighter than your debut which was a lot darker and more melancholic. Do you remember what headspace you were in when you made this EP?

I was definitely feeling a lot lighter when I was making ‘AZEB.’ I felt like I had shed a lot of the weight that I carried during all those years of uncertainty. I was in a much more hopeful place when I was making one-half of the project. The other half was made during the early days of the pandemic so it was like a mix. Songs like “Rider,” “Beretta,” and “My Moon,” those songs represent beautiful, light type feelings to me while some of the other songs like “News Come,” and “Another Kin” are more intense lyrically and sonically. 

Let’s talk about ‘The Breeze Grew A Fire.’ How did you land on that as the title for your second album? 

The making of that title was different from how I titled my other projects. It didn’t come to me right away and I decided to not force it, I believed it was going to come eventually. So the making of this album has always felt very gentle. In contrast to what I had been through for so many years, I felt like I was in a much softer space creating this album and this feeling of a breeze just kept coming to me. It was also kind of like springtime going into the summer and the idea of a breeze became so prominent that I was going to title the album breeze. But as I continued on the journey of finishing it, it felt like the album was saying something a bit more. I realized that the album wasn’t just about all these gentle feelings and relationships I’m singing about like friendship, family, and my son but these things also inspire me to live with purpose, conviction and to have a spark in me. Things that make people “strong” are inspired by these little moments and experiences that we have and less by the force of trying to make a fire forcefully. 

You co-produced “Phone Me” and “Counterfeit,” the lead singles for this project and you’ve also produced a lot of your older stuff as well. I’m curious to know how taking the reins on the production side affects your music-making process in general.

I got really into producing during that period when I felt lost in life. I got into Ableton, playing the guitar on my computer, sampling my voice and just experimenting. So songs that I produced from ‘The Jungle Is The Only Way Out’ like “Sandstorm” and “Kinfolk,” were me experimenting a lot with learning how to produce. With this new album, the first two singles were heavily produced by my co-producer Sam Hoffman. When he sends me things that I like, I’ll add things to them and it could be the opposite as well where I produce a song and I’ll have him or another friend add something to it. That process is personal because I could completely be in my world and get the feelings that I want to convey out through production as well as writing the song out lyrically. When I unlocked that part of myself, it felt like my whole life that’s what I’ve been wanting to do. To be able to make the music arrangements and compositions come to life. 

A lot of the time I would start with a simple beat or drum loop and I’ll build chords over it with my guitar. I experiment with writing when it’s bare and then fill in the production as I write the song. They’re a very interwoven process. 

I’ve read that you’re heavily influenced by legendary acts like Stevie Wonder and Lauryn Hill. Are there other acts that inspire you when it comes to the production side of music specifically?

That’s a great question. In certain ways, I’ll say it’s the same people that I look up to because most of them produce. Interestingly enough, what I love most about these musicians is that they are very involved in the sonics of the music they’re making. So the people that you mentioned, like Stevie Wonder who mentored me and encouraged me to continue on the path of producing my music versus being a singer who works with a producer. I feel like it’s important to the language of an artist to at least know how to contribute in some way to the sonics of their music. 

I’ll say Quincy Jones is the blueprint for me just because of the span of work that he did. He’s the concept of producer I’d like to work towards in my life.

Do you have a favourite memory from creating ‘The Breeze Grew A Fire’?

There are a few. There was a time when I made this song on the album called “Hawk.” The song is dedicated to a really dear friend of mine who passed away unexpectedly in 2021. It was not easy to write and when I first wrote the song, it was sad, slow and reflective of the whole situation. I listened to it after I made it and I started thinking about my friend and the things that he liked. He was a very expressive and hilarious person who loved dancing and dance music. At that moment a light bulb went up and I felt like the song needed to be more of a dance song because I wanted to make something that he would love and not something he would think is corny. It was a really beautiful moment musically and personally. 

If there’s one thing you would like your fans or listeners to take away from ‘A Breeze Grew A Fire,’ what would it be? 

I hope it brings a sense of comfort and warmth. I also hope it tells a clear story of what matters to me. I just really hope it makes people feel better, that’s really it. I think it’s one of those albums where it’s a personal album for me and I think it’s meant for personal moments too. I hope it lives in people’s lives in comforting ways.

Listen to ‘A Breeze Grew A Fire’ here

Is the “Mr Money” era over?

Asake broke the internet when he unveiled his new tattoos earlier this year, and he’s doubling down while ushering in the GIRAN Republic era. On “Military”, Asake ditches the log drums & Amapiano-inspired beats that paved the way to his rapid ascent to stardom. Rapping over stripped back production dominated by a live drum loop, he picks up where he left off sonically on ‘LUNGU BOY’, drawing inspiration from his Hip-Hop influences, as he delivers a defiant, heartfelt battle-cry to his fans and doubters alike.

For the last few months, rumours have swirled around Asake on the gossip blogs, on everything from who he’s dating to his record label situation to his physical appearance, with fans, critics and disgruntled ex team members all throwing in their two cents. Since his emergence in the limelight, Asake has been a man of few words – we should know, we did his first ever magazine interview back in 2022. But on this track, he addresses the chatter head on, opening the song dismissively rapping “ Awon lo lenu won koma so lo/ Tio ba affect bank me, ko ma soro” loosely translated to “let them keep talking, if it doesn’t affect my bank account, there’s nothing to say”. He goes on to flex his financial muscle above everyone in his “set”, despite being “low-key”, while affirming he could drop an album tomorrow with no tracklist, and it would still slap. 

He takes a break from the braggadocio between verses to directly shout out his mentor Olamide, the man who gave him his big break. While it does appear their business relationship may have run its course, the mercurial artist is making it clear he remembers how he got here. The Asake & YBNL run will be studied for years to come. In the midst of the continued rise in global consumption of Nigerian music, Asake hilariously raps “Oyinbo koro lenu mi”, a reminder that he will not be diluting his sound for the benefit of our friends in the West. 

Quietly dropping the track exclusively on YouTube & Audiomack a couple of days after the 2025 GRAMMY ceremony, in which he was nominated for the second year running, this response may have gone over the heads of those who lurk in the comment sections of the gossip blogs. But it is the most Asake response we could have expected, isn’t it? On his own terms, in his own native tongue, he pulls no punches as he ushers in a new era of independence.

This morning, Asake released another record, the Magicsticks-produced “WHY LOVE”,which notably comes under his new imprint Giran Republic. Reverting to a more familiar sonic cocktail of pulsating log-drums and choral vocals, he sings melodiously,“You know I’m a Soulja boy, but in your case, I’ll calm down.” The duality of man. 

The rumours will keep swirling and people will keep talking, as they tend to do when you reach the heights the Lungu Boy has soared to. And for all the aesthetic change and talk of a new era, it appears Asake is going to continue to do what he has done more consistently than nearly every artist in Nigeria since his mainstream emergence in 2022: drown out the noise with new music.

 

 

Inside The Parties Breathing New Life Into Lagos’ Nightlife Scene

The crowd marches along on the dancefloor, vibrating to a pulse that is both familiar and electrifying. It takes a second to identify Grammy nominee, Rema’s “Ozeba,” pouring out of the speakers and whipping the crowd into a frenzy as it takes on new life as a turbulent EDM track. The crowd growls and screams in approval of the DJ’s remix, yet another banger in a night filled with back-to-back hits. Hands in the air, sweat dripping from glistening bodies, smoke floating around the dancefloor and young people gyrating with reckless abandon, Element House provides the people with the release they deserve and they reward it with an undying loyalty to its rhythm and raves as they keep coming back.

Party culture has taken on new dimensions in Nigeria over the last two decades as a reaction to economic, social and cultural progressions. This evolution of the way we party is significant considering that Nigeria is a society that lays heavy emphasis on certain accepted standards of moral behavior, rooted in culture and tradition. But that has never once stopped a good time from happening. Millennials and older gen-z will remember the street parties and carnivals of old, usually held at the end of summer holidays or in December, where music by TuFace, Mo’Hits, Akon, Shakira, Lady Gaga and 50 Cent were the staple, among others. There were certain songs automatically expected from any DJ worth his salt otherwise it was not too far-fetched to see a DJ, with his equipment on his head, fleeing for his safety while being chased by an irate mob of partygoers. 

The more things change, the more they stay the same. These carnivals and street parties might have been phased out but the idea remains the same while the power and influence of communities powering party culture in Lagos and Nigeria at large has only gotten stronger, especially with the advent of social media. The Block Party series–started in Lagos, Nigeria as the Mainland Block Party–has become the go-to event to celebrate youth culture and foster connections that cut across multiple African cities and walks of life. Today, with curated events in Ibadan, Abuja, Lagos, Accra and others, a community of partygoers is assured maximum enjoyment whenever the Block Party organisers announce an event in their city of the month. The people will always return to where their tastes are catered to, bringing along friends, family and newbies eager to bask in the atmosphere of loud music and togetherness.

In 2012, Warner Bros. Pictures released Project X–a film that follows three friends and high-school students who attempt to gain popularity by throwing a party which ends up escalating out of their control and reaching epic proportions. This idea propagated by Hollywood would go on to influence several house parties thrown in Lagos during the mid to late 2010s. The idea that with the right DJ/music playing at the right venue and with just the right crowd, then immortality was possible–a party so grand that it would be spoken about in glowing terms for years to come until it became lore. Today, house parties are more intimate and controlled, the degrees of separation between attendees reduced by a mutual friend or WhatsApp group they all have in common. From game nights to karaoke sessions to kinky sex parties, whether it’s at Balloons & Cups, a Vogue Boys pool party, or a get-together by the ‘Lagos on a Budget’ IG Community, the role house parties play in the ever evolving party culture is not insignificant, creating a pipeline that feeds into the much larger raves which weekends in Lagos are becoming synonymous with. 

Whether it’s Element House today, Mainland House tomorrow, Group Therapy next weekend, WIRED or a host of other house and EDM inspired movements, partygoers are spoiled for choice when it comes to where to indulge their fundamental music tastes in a secure and controlled environment. Nothing is off the menu and a good time is the only badge of honor worth collecting. The increasing popularity of the rave movement in recent years is testament to the fact that it works for both organizers and attendees. The Covid-19 lockdowns changed the way Nigerians party; after months of being isolated from their communities and having to socialize in more intimate and private spaces, it’s no surprise that raves, with their underground nature, became the outlet of choice for several young people as soon as the world opened back up. According to Tonia, a medical doctor and frequent raver living in Lagos, her first few times at parties following the end of the lockdowns were not fun. “I was partying with caution, wearing face masks constantly and carrying hand sanitizer around. It became a much better experience subsequently when everything relaxed and soon enough, I was back enjoying the time of my life at Lagos parties.”

Unburdened from the heavy spending, bottle-popping culture that characterizes Lagos nightlife and cloaked in the embrace of judgment-free anonymity and numbers, raves have become a safe haven for a community of partygoers determined to turn up in the midst of the sheer craziness of living in this day and age.  For Michael-Peace, a brand & creative assistant and frequent raver, the appeal goes beyond a need to unwind and the feelings of peace he experiences at raves. “Whether I’m listening to the DJ or just watching the crowd move to the music, it’s a very mindful experience for me,” he says.“I’m grateful to just be there and appreciative of how we can all be one community or family for that period of time.”

The appeal of the rave scene is its inclusivity and it’s a common theme for the new wave of parties exploding in Lagos and environs. No matter who you are or what you stand for, these parties provide a safe space to let loose without fear of objectification or discrimination resulting from socio-economic and political differences, misogyny and other less elegant occurrences which are part of mainstream Nigerian nightlife. This is important to Tonia who, on multiple occasions, has been prevented by bouncers from entering clubs without a male companion. “I’ll always prefer raves, they are much freer and nobody is performing here. There’s no need to show off the number of bottles you bought like there is in a club. Everyone just wants to turn the fuck up and have the time of their lives.” 

For five or six hours, the disco lights, turbulent music and fellow ravers provide solace from the outside world. “Dancing the night away” is not merely a suggestion but a divine mandate from the gods of the rave. It is almost impossible to emerge after such an experience and not want to do it again. The music beckons all and sundry to come out, purge yourself of all inhibitions on the dancefloor, then return home and spread the gospel of the electronic music scene to all who might listen. In Michael-Peace’s own words: “There are people I’ve put onto raves and who loved the experience and constantly thank me for introducing them to it. Once you get hooked on it, you’ll never want to let go.”

Party culture in Nigeria continues to evolve as the new wave of parties mark their time and place in history. But the street parties and carnivals of yesteryears are not to be forgotten. The power of community continues to connect the old wave with the new wave, ensuring that actual people remain the focal point of these events, and party goers can enjoy nightlife experiences uniquely tailored to their ever changing wants and needs.

Jordan Adetunji Told Us The Meaning Of ‘kehlani’

The most distinctive quality of Jordan Adetunji’s music is how eclectic it sounds: it’s a melting pot that blends the jerky rhythms of club Rap with elements of Rock, R&B, Jersey Club and Afropop, creating addictive bitesize records that are inventive and strikingly dynamic. His growing discography, which currently includes a handful of singles and a debut mixtape, houses seductive and melodic rap songs that owe much of their influence to Cash Cobain’s raunchy interpretation of Drill music. The animated records erupt with the frenzy of hardcore Punk as well as other colourful and vibrant sounds that could easily soundtrack an anime fight scene. This comprehensive approach to making music that adopts influences from an array of established and obscure styles was inspired by the video game soundtracks Adetunji heard as a kid. 

“Growing up, I played a lot of games like Need For Speed, Fight Night, Tekken, and a bunch of role-playing games, and I heard a lot of music in these games that inspired me to start making my own music as I grew older,” he tells me during a Google Meet conversation one afternoon in late November.

Adetunji’s clear aspiration to stretch his music out across genres and play with form is what birthed 2023’s ‘ROCK ‘N’ RAVE,’ his official debut project that manages to neatly encapsulate much of what he is about. Tender opener “INAUGURAL EPISODE,” is a slow, heartfelt confessional that’s buoyed by elegant violin strings and serves as a soft introduction into his eclectic and distorted world before listeners are immediately jolted to live with the insistent and booming bounce on “DECAY.”. This arbitrary style also birthed “Kehlani,” his inescapable breakout single which took off worldwide and peaked at number 24 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. The single also recently earned him a 2025 Grammy nomination for Best Melodic Rap Performance where he is up against heavyweights like Beyonce and Future, highlighting just how far he’s come in a short amount of time. 

Long before the 25-year-old became a Grammy-nominated act, he was just an inquisitive teenager with a knack for tinkering with different sounds and melodies. Born in London, Adetunji lived in one of the city’s largest commercial areas for about 10 years before relocating to Belfast, the capital city of Northern Ireland, with his mum and siblings. Even though he had been fascinated by the idea of making music as a kid living in London, it wasn’t until he got to Belfast that he began to cut his teeth as a budding musician. There, he picked up music classes in high school, specifically learning how to play the trumpet. 

“From there on, I started trying to record my own music on my mum’s laptop. After a while, I got my own small computer, a cheap interface and then I started recording songs and putting them online,” he tells me of his early journey. 

After posting a bunch of spirited rap videos on Facebook, Adetunji put out his first official single in 2020 titled “Close 2 You.” The Dancehall-inspired single was followed by the frenetic, Rock-influenced “Wokeup!” just months after, quickly briefing early listeners that he wasn’t one to boxed in. British singer and songwriter Oli Sykes, who is most famous for being the frontman of the Rock band Bring Me the Horizon, happened to be one of Adetunji’s early admirers and he was intrigued by the then-upcoming singer’s Alt-Rock and Rap experimentation. He reached out to Adetunji and subsequently got him a deal with RCA Records. 

Even after his recent signing with 300 Entertainmet/Warner UK Adetunji continued to record music in his bedroom, just like he did as a kid, tinkering and incorporating even more disparate elements to his already expansive sound. It was during one of these recording sessions that the framework of what would eventually morph into “Kehlani” was created.

 

 

“I had always wanted to write a song about someone who embodies a certain powerfulness and someone who is strong and stands for what they believe in. So I just ended up putting Kehlani’s name in when I was making the song,” he tells me, speaking of the inspiration behind the song. 

“My brother was there with me while I was making “Kehlani” and I remember debating if I should keep the name in or take it out because I didn’t know what the reaction would be,” he continues. Unsure of how people would take to the song, Adetunji posted a snippet of the song on TikTok and to his surprise, it immediately took on a life of its own. This encouraged him to complete the song which he released shortly after and the rest is history. 

Following the success of “Kehlani,” Adetunji shows no signs of taking his foot off the gas. He secured a highly anticipated remix with the alluring and self-assured inspiration of his Grammy-nominated single before closing out 2024 with the saccharine, Lil Baby-assisted “Options” which is cut from the same cloth as his breakout record. Speaking of how the collaboration came about, he explains that the Atlanta rapper was one of the first people to reach out to him after he released “Kehlani.” 

“He showed me mad love. I finally met him in London and he said he would like to work with me. I sent him two songs that I had recorded and he dropped a verse on one of them,” he explains.

Looking to further acquaint his newfound audience with his eclectic soundscape and to cement his status as one of the most inventive new acts on the scene, the Grammy nominee recently announced the imminent arrival of his latest mixtape titled ‘A Jaguar’s Dream.’ 

“A Jaguar, to me, is someone who moves through spaces and conquers every space it enters. This is how I feel with my sound constantly evolving and conquering every space I enter into,” he explained in an official press release. “A Jaguar’s Dream is an entry into my love life and my world of thoughts through sound and emotion. A real manifestation of my dreams I wish to make reality.”

The Songs Of Detty December

Bright city lights, choc-a-block traffic, beach parties, daily concerts, partying till we see the sun – just a few of the ingredients that make up the recipe for a glorious Detty December. And while December has always been the official party season in Nigeria, laden with lavish splendour and a very busy period for the Nigerian music and entertainment industry specifically, things changed around the mid 2010s, when Mr Eazi popularised the phrase “Detty December.”

What was once the way we celebrated the end of the year and beginning of a new one, transcended into a full blown cultural phenomenon and tourist attraction for Lagos and Accra specifically. Marked by a month-long marathon of concerts, raves, and highly-entertaining activities, music lives at the centre of Detty December.

The music that’s popular around this end-of-year time has always played a key part in the season’s enjoyment, with the biggest hits from the past year culminating into the soundtrack of the season. Nestled at the heart of this exuberance are the party-starters that weave the fabric of our most unforgettable nights, and ultimately soundtrack the timeless memories of Detty December.

Travel through memory lane with us as we take stock of the anthems that have powered Detty December vibes across West Africa for the past decade.

2015

Baba Nla – Wizkid 

When the concept of what we know as Detty December really started to take hold, Wizkid had already spent the previous few years as one of the seasons’ champions with songs like “Don’t Dull,” “Azonto,” “Jaiye Jaiye” and Back To The Matter. As the worlds of Ghana and Nigeria came together to create Detty December, Wizkid and Legendury Beatz’ growing relationship had brought the best of both together sonically with  the first official song of the season, Final (Baba Nla). 

Coming right in the middle of the party season, “Baba Nla” became an instant and inescapable hit, and he had the whole country singing about and affirming his run at the top. With a boastful title and fitting lyrics Say my gbedu is final, wen me drop everybody no dey tire,” it was as though Wizkid knew he had cracked the code, and was bragging about it. 

In a year filled with electronic synth-heavy records such as Skales’ “Shake Body”, Wande Coal’s “Ashimapeyin”, and hip-hop classics like Ycee’s hard-hitting “Jagaban”, “Baba Nla” served as a seismic sonic shift in the music, that reaffirmed Wizkid’s foresight and dominance of the scene. 

2016

Mad Over You – Runtown 

2016 crystallised a welcome shift in the soundscape from these parts. Inspired by Tekno’s mellifluous summer hit, “Pana,” Runtown took charge of the Ghana-inspired “pon pon” sound to deliver a peerless end-of-year masterpiece with “Mad Over You.” 

And with a key part of the Detty December experience being a seasonal whirlwind romance, songs like “Mad Over You” helped serve as a time stamp of these moments. That year, “And if she follow me go, na enjoyment go kill am oh,” was the glue that held all situationships together, stamping a memorable festive period for millennials as they came of age. Sonically, 2016 also crystallised a welcome shift in the soundscape from these parts; moving from a heavy and fast paced dance ready sound, to a more stripped down highlife inspired sound. Whilst Runtown was caught in the thick of a prolonged dispute with his record label, Eric Manny records, the singer turned his adversity into what will forever mark one of the most memorable Detty Decembers to date. 

2017

Manya – Mut4y ft. Wizkid

For the third year running, a delicate blend of Nigerian and Ghanaian culture came together to soundtrack the party season, this time bringing more nostalgia into the mix. Back in the 2000s in Nigeria, “Akhoma Womu,” was an inescapable hit, and Wizkid brought that energy back with an interpolation of the song’s hook. 

In the same year he released his critically acclaimed LP, ‘Sounds From The Other Side,’ which contributed to African music spreading into global terrain, Wizkid rounded off the year with “Manya,” an infectious earworm that felt both nostalgic and refreshingly new. 

That same year, Wizkid illustrated his commitment to community, with a bold move at his concert where he broke the barriers between VIP and regular ticket holders, and united all his concert goers. This move is probably what cemented his GOAT status on the streets, and set him apart from his peers. The mid tempo song was the party starter of the season, and clubs, concerts, parties against strong contenders such as Reekado Banks’ “Like” and Kizz Daniel’s “Yeba”.

2018

Able God – Chinko Ekun

At the beginning of 2018, Nigerian music was decidedly in an era populated by sheeny, mid-tempo, balmy tunes that fixated on the minutiae of affection and the specter of romance. By the end of the year, Street-Pop had roared back to a prominent position within the culture thanks to a series of zeitgeist-shaping sounds that mined the pulse of the streets and came along with a glut of zesty dance styles. Chinko Ekun’s “Able God” was the most propulsive of the songs from the cluster of street-influenced jams that flooded the Nigerian music scene in that year. 

Built around a simple request to have abundant financial resources, it’s a catchy tune that reflected the cultural thrust of the year while hinting at a near-future of Nigerian Pop that would see Street-Pop reach its critical and commercial pinnacle. Produced by Rexxie, “Able God” boasted spurts of the rhythmicity that the esteemed producer infused into Street-Pop without losing the bombast that defined Street-Pop’s underground era. Rapper, Chinko Ekun, dexterously swapped verses with former YBNL act, Lil Kesh, while a then-ascendant Zlatan shared a verse of the year contender amidst his blistering come-up. From its release in August, “Able God” was simply inescapable thanks to its aspirational-yet-demanding call to action and it, rightly, served as a backdrop to year-end revelry across the country. – WO

2019

Ma Fo – Naira Marley

At the height of his powers, Naira Marley had Nigeria in a spell. Whether he repulsed you or drew you in with his devil-may-care disposition, the singer was almost omnipresent in cultural discourse. An unprecedented run in 2019 birthed a series of songs – “Am I A Yahoo Boy,” “Opotoyi,” and “Soapy” – that muscled their way to the top of the Nigerian music scene. Still, of that single streak that year, the one that ruled the airwaves come December was “Ma Fo,” his Young Jonn collab that you couldn’t escape if you were in Nigeria at the time. 

An undeniable victory lap, “Ma Fo” was produced by Rexxie, crystallizing a partnership that had developed between the producer and Naira Marley. The song was a jam for the ages that tapped into the spirit of Detty December while paying homage to Lagos, Nigeria’s economic and financial capital. Mere months after December 2019, the world would go into a lockdown that brought activities to a grinding halt. Thanks to that lockdown, “Ma Fo” was the fuel for the last full-blown blaze of hedonism in Lagos for close to 12 months. – WO

2020

KPK – Rexxie , Mohbad

The COVID-19 pandemic was more than just a global health crisis, it was a reset button on how we experienced music. Amapiano and lo-fi music peeled through the mainstream, albeit reimagined in our own way. We weren’t just listening differently, we were searching for a reminder of what outside felt like. 

Then came KPK, a reinvigorated anthem of defiance after months of isolation. Rexxie, who had quietly been sculpting the DNA of Street-Pop since the Zlatan-led Shaku Shaku explosion, was now fully in the driver’s seat. His signature street bounce paired with log drums dictated the tempo of Nigeria’s reawakening. Anchored by Mohbad’s rebellious charm, irreverent lyricism, and an unfiltered raw energy, “KPK” was a party-starter on arrival in December 2020

When COVID restrictions eased and the streets lit up again, “KPK” wasn’t just a song, it was a victory cry, and a reminder that for the first time in what felt like forever, we were really back outside – J.F..

2021

Zazoo Zeh – Portable, Poco Lee & Olamide

By the middle of December 2021 when “Zazoo Zehh” dropped, Lagos was already in full Detty December mode – streets buzzing, speakers blaring, and the air thick with the energy of a city making up for lost time.

At his core, Portable is a fighter – literally and figuratively – and “Zazoo Zehh” boldly mirrors that energy. The Agege-bred underdog had spent years clawing for attention before earning an invaluable stamp of approval from Olamide, the godfather of Street-Pop. Bolstered by the frenetic production of wonderkid, P.Priime, “Zazoo Zehh” became unavoidable.

Portable rode the wave like a man possessed, sweeping the end-of-year attention with unhinged performances. His unpredictable stage antics, and wild off-stage persona made him an instant sensation and crowned “Zazoo Zehh,” the season’s inescapable anthem – J.F.. 

2022

Chance (Na Ham) – Seyi Vibez

When Seyi Vibez’s debut album, ‘Billion Dollar Baby,’ arrived near the end of 2022, it was with crackling invention and well-earned confidence. The centerpiece of the album was “Chance (Na Ham),” a blistering, if slightly-discordant song that moved between urgent pleas for a chance to be heard and some of the singer’s romantic impulses. 

Steeped in the Yoruba oral music style of apala, “Chance (Na Ham)” was polarising upon release due to its perceived lack of melody, the style of lyricism employed, and comparisons to Asake’s sound. Rather than dull its momentum, the back and forth over the song spurred it to the top just in time for Detty December, earning Seyi Vibez cultural cachet that he parlayed into a staying anthem that played across Nigeria in its peak entertainment season – WO.

2023

Cast – Shallipopi ft ODUMODUBLVCK 

By the time December 2023 arrived, Shallipopi and Odumodublvck had done more than just break into the mainstream, they had rewritten its rules. Shallipopi’s meteoric rise, built on the back of his infectious energy and near-mythical redemption arc through “Elon Musk,” had given Nigerian Street-Pop a fresh new face. Meanwhile, Odumodublvck had bulldozed through the underground with “Declan Rice,” a song as boastful as it was undeniable.

When the two finally joined forces on “Cast,” the result was volcanic. The Busy Pluto-produced track was a heady mix of Shallipopi’s hypnotic Benin-bred swagger and Odumodublvck’s no-holds-barred lyricism. Together, they created a record that moved through the streets like wildfire, fanned further by social media’s insatiable hunger for its unfettered audacity.

It was a match made in controlled chaos. Shallipopi’s surrealist street lingo provided the melody, while Odumodublvck’s guttural delivery turned it into a full-blown call to groove. Despite push back at its abrasive lyrics, “Cast” was one of those rare anthems that did not fade away but instead only got louder – J.F.

2024

Oblee – DJ YK Mule

If there’s one unshakable truth about Nigerian street music, it’s that the most unexpected moments often spark the biggest movements. A single phrase, a beat, or even a throwaway ad-lib can be plucked from obscurity and turned into an anthem provided it falls into the right hands.That’s exactly what happened with “Oblee.”

At first, it was nothing more than a casual phrase, buried deep within Seyi Vibez’ “Flakky” – a fleeting moment in a song that most would have skimmed past. But in the world of Nigerian street music, all it takes is one sharp-eared disruptor. DJ YK Mule was that disruptor.

A mad scientist of sound, DJ YK Mule has long thrived on the fringes of mainstream production, crafting hyperactive, speaker-rattling beats that refuse to go unnoticed.  When he stumbled upon “Oblee,” he drenched it in his signature mara beat, turning it into an irresistible melody . Slimcase, Qdot, and Kashcoming were enlisted for a remix that transformed the track from underground curiosity into a full-fledged street sensation.

Suddenly, “Oblee” was everywhere – pulsing through bus parks, street raves, Lagos markets, and anywhere with speakers loud enough to make walls tremble. It didn’t need a carefully plotted rollout or industry backing; the streets handled that. It reminded everyone that in Nigerian music that the streets dictate the charts, and that anything can become a phenomenon, as long as the people embrace it. And perhaps most importantly, it left behind a mantra that has taken on a life of its own: Oblee delayed is not Oblee denied – J.F.

Pop-Piano Producer, Kooldrink, Releases Debut Single, “Show Me”

Zimbabwean producer and artist, Kooldrink, has released his debut single, “Show Me.” Featuring Nina Nevra, the track marks the beginning of his journey to bring Pop-Piano, a genre he helped pioneer, to the international stage.

Built around the soulful vocals of Nina Nevra, “Show Me” is a reminder of the enduring poise  of Pop-Piano, an interesting interpretation of amapiano that blends the pulsating rhythms of the South African-born genre with the captivating melodies of pop. 

With “Show Me,” the producer is making a statement. The track’s infectious beats, compelling lyrics, and genre-defying sound signal the rise of a new era in his career as a global creator. “I wanted to create something that reflects where I come from while also speaking to the world,” he said about the song. “Pop Piano is about bridging those gaps and bringing the energy of amapiano to a broader audience.”

Just 25-year-old, Kooldrink has already made a name for himself as the creative partner of South African superstar, Tyla. He produced her breakout hit “Getting Late,” a song that launched both of their careers. Since then, he has collaborated with a roll call of international superstars including Ed Sheeran, helming the official amapiano remix of Sheeran’s hit, “Bad Habits.”

Lost In Translation: Street-Pop’s Journey Beyond Language

In 2022, Asake rose to Afropop prominence, driven by an ingenious combination of past and future. He commanded Amapiano, the exhilarating South African genre with which producers and artists alike were forging forward in an experimental Afropop scene, and infused it with the substance of his culture, bringing in Fuji as his own distinctive marker. In September of the same year, just as his popularity was peaking on the back of an impressive run of singles, he released ‘Mr. Money With The Vibe,’ a scintillating debut encapsulating the zeitgeist he had spent the year reshaping. Building on the sonic foundation he had set, the record throbbed with the bluster and urgency of his home city, Lagos Island, and dripped with the slang and proverbs you would expect to hear there. Asake platformed his culture not just in sound but with language too, and his brilliant execution was a testament to the creativity that culture brings to the table. Its widespread acceptance, both across Nigeria and beyond, was proof that language is no barrier for those who appreciate excellent music.

Before Asake and his record-setting run, Street-Pop was already a culturally fluid entity, and producers and artists all over the country found success infusing the Ajegunle-born genre with various languages. Olamide built a career by flipping between being the gruff, battle-hardened mafioso of the streets and a carefree purveyor of street party anthems. Phyno, his friend and longtime collaborator from across the Niger, has been a force for Igbo rap and street music, threading slinky Igbo verses into a fabric that ranges from Hip-Hop to Igbo Highlife. Now, nearly a decade after their monumental collaborative album, their protégés tread the paths they laid down. Today, Asake and Seyi Vibez rule the streets, while younger stars like TML Vibez, Balloranking and Ayo Maff sit at the heart of the movement’s next generation. 

In Eastern Nigeria, Rap devotees like Jeriq, Aguero Banks and Zoro spit bars in Igbo. Other artists like Kolaboy and Kcee lean more towards Pop in their approach, reproducing Afropop or Amapiano with traditional Igbo instruments, like the Ogene and Oja. In other parts of Nigeria, clusters of creatives are working to attach their native languages unto some version of Street-Pop. Shallipopi’s use of Bini language and culture, especially for the standout “Obapluto,” has earned him status in mainstream Nigerian music, while others like One Touch (who raps in Bini) and Blixxy D RapKing (who favours his native Ishan) fly under the radar. In Northern Nigeria, Hausa rappers like ClassiQ, B. O. C. Madaki and DJ AB have found success combining Hip-Hop–like flow, local instrumentation, and the Hausa language. Today, Nigerian Street-Pop is more vibrant, versatile, and unapologetically local than ever, but what happens when its meaning gets lost in translation? 

At its origin, Street-Pop was performed almost exclusively in pidgin. In the ‘90s, artists like Daddy Showkey, Baba Fryo, Ras Kimono and Blacky were its chief proponents, and they shared the commonality of being born and raised in Ajegunle, an area of Lagos where their parents had come to settle from different parts of Nigeria – mostly Delta state. For them, pidgin was more than a lingua franca: it was a means with which they could express distinct thoughts that the rigor and structure of English (and perhaps their own inability to properly express themselves with it) would not allow for.

Galala is accepted by convention as the first evolutionary form of Street-Pop. Like many other sub-genres, it was a dance, but still it was much more. Taking heavy influence from Ragga, Galala was an expression of Ajegunle’s free-spirited response to life in adversity. Songs like Daddy Showkey’s “Diana” and Baba Fryo’s “Denge Pose” are classic cuts from this era. These songs share, in addition to sound and language, an infusion of social commentary and storytelling. Galala artists sought to share little nuggets of their lives in the music – like the moving story of Diana’s childlessness, or Baba Fryo’s admonition of the haughty on “Denge Pose.” 

A few years later, Street-Pop took on a couple of new identities, this time via Konto and Swo, although the first was more often used to refer to the genre of music and the latter designated to mean a related dance move. Konto was a little more melodious than Galala, and didn’t carry as much social commentary. Mad Melon and Mountain Black were its biggest practitioners. Their music relied on call and response choruses – whether it be an effusive “Swo!” chanted in response to the statement “I am a danfo driver” on “Danfo Driver,” or the titular response on the chorus of “Kpolongo,” a sequence that has been interpolated multiple times in modern music, including by Tekno and Zlatan

Among its many iterations and offshoots, Galala continued its domination through the next decade. In the mid ‘00s it was kept alive by a new batch of artists, like African China and Blackface. These disciples kept faithful to the tenets of the genre, like the conscious social commentary, which brimmed in songs like African China’s “Mr. President,” and “No Condition Is Permanent,” and Blackface’s “Hard Life.” This era also saw an increasing democratisation of Street-Pop, encouraged by several factors: its rising popularity and acceptance, Nigeria’s increasing interconnectivity partly brought about by mobile phones (or GSMs as they were popularly known), the Internet, and the opening up of creative hubs in other cities: Delta, Port Harcourt, Benin, and Enugu. 

This growth meant that Street-Pop had escaped the creative confines of Ajegunle, and could be reimagined and remixed by creatives in other parts of the country. Stereoman Ekwe recorded his ‘Sample Ekwe’ album in his hometown of Warri, Delta State; he was among a generation of artists that recreated Ajegunle’s sound outside its physical borders. His version of Street-Pop was delivered in a variation of pidgin that was coarser than Lagos’, with occasional dippings into Isoko or Urhobo. Other South-South artists, like Timaya, made a connection to the genre via collabs and remixes, like 2Shotz’s “In Case You Never Know.”

While the flames of Street-Pop were spreading across Nigeria, an even greater evolution was happening within Lagos state. Lagos represents the ultimate cultural mixer and a trip from Ajegunle to Bariga, or from Alaba to Agege, means crossing multiple cultural lines. As Street-Pop moved into traditionally Yoruba areas of Lagos, it interacted and mixed with Yoruba genres, especially Fuji, and a new era of the genre emerged, championed by acts like Oritse Femi and DaGrin. The genre’s lingua franca shifted, although Pidgin remained as something of a second language. From the mid ‘00s through the mid ‘10s, Street-Pop picked up lingo from the streets that birthed it, and in turn created a flurry of new slang. Olamide was particularly adept at utilizing the fluid breadth of language and vocabulary. He invokes street-worn sayings, while simultaneously creating new ones like the “-Sneh” suffix that was all the rave back in the day, and phrases like “who you epp?” “science student” “pepper dem” or “omo wobe” that took on a life of their own. 

Other practitioners of Street-Pop across Nigeria have sought to indigenize it as best they can. Phyno rode to glory on the back of a series of hits that fused the frank Hip-Hop of Illbliss and Nigga Raw with the Igbo-laced Neo-Highlife of Flavour. Even younger artists are tapping into their native languages to enhance storytelling. Ayo Maff’s debut EP, ‘Maffian,’ is full of ancient wisdom, the kind that would hardly be expected of a nineteen-year-old, but is reflective of the oral traditions of his Yoruba culture. On “Are You There” he sings that “Oju ri k’ẹlẹdẹ mi to dele,” speaking to experiences he faced before he arrived at his current status, while a line like “Lambebe, o gbọdọ wọ́n nile alata,” compares the overflow of wealth he expects in the future to the abundance of bowls of a pepper seller. These lines help build up the storytelling experience for the informed listener.

While indigenous languages are a source of connection to those who speak them, they also have the potential to alienate the non-speaker. How the audience handles this break in communication determines what their experience will be. While some may find it hard to get into music if they don’t understand the words, options abound for a fan willing to take a few steps to seek enlightenment – including online translations, annotated Genius lyrics, or song breakdowns on TikTok and YouTube. With today’s world focused on short-form video, it is not surprising to find an artist making lyric translations to their own song on TikTok. 

Ultimately, Nigeria is a music-loving nation. Even now, Asake’s music – slangs, idioms and all – continues to be a mainstay in barbershops in Enugu and raves in Benin and Port Harcourt; his words often undecipherable, but the groove irresistible. In clubs in Lagos, Flavour and Phyno boom from speakers, as hypemen announce the arrival of the latest big spender. A listener who does not understand the language may miss part of the message, but they are energized by production and serenaded by melodies. Music is a universal language, and in Nigeria’s banging Afropop scene, melodies speak louder than words. 

M.A.D SOLUTIONS UNVEILS “M.A.D SOLUTIONS FOR CREATORS” IN PARTNERSHIP WITH YOUTUBE

Building on its recent partnership with TikTok, M.A.D Solutions, has announced a transformative initiative, M.A.D Solutions for Creators, in partnership with YouTube. This strategic move puts M.A.D Solutions in position as a YouTube Creator Services Provider (CSP), setting new benchmarks for supporting creators in various aspects of their YouTube journey such as content production, optimization, monetization, and audience engagement.

This partnership evolved from M.A.D Solutions’ established Sound Recording and Audio Visual (SRAV) Partnership with YouTube, which previously focused on asset management, Monetization and Rights management for Official Artist Channels  via M.A.D Solutions Content Owner. The new engagement expands this ecosystem with an Affiliate Content Owner For Creators, integrating niche creators such as podcasters, lifestyle influencers, reality TV producers, and experts in travel, fashion, and beauty.

A standout aspect of this initiative is that it allows for provision of funding opportunities to help viable creators cover production costs and other financial contingencies, enabling them to concentrate on their craft while accessing essential resources for sustainable growth and professional excellence. Bugwu Aneto-Okeke, founder M.A.D  Solutions, highlighted the importance of this partnership, saying “Our vision has always been to bridge technology and creativity to unlock opportunities for creators in Africa and beyond. With M.A.D Solutions for Creators, we are not only reshaping the digital landscape but also ensuring that creators, regardless of their niche, have access to funding, strategies, and the global platforms needed to amplify their voices.”

Founded in Nigeria in 2017 and now headquartered in Houston, Texas, M.A.D Solutions has built a solid reputation for promoting African talents on the global stage through innovative and forward-thinking distribution strategies. The company has successfully distributed music from renowned African artists such as Flavour, Simi, P-Square, Runtown, and Phyno, solidifying its position as an industry leader in the African digital music ecosystem. With active operations also in South Africa, Canada, and the United Kingdom, M.A.D Solutions continues to expand its presence globally, connecting over 1,000 artistes to key platforms like Apple Music, Spotify, Boomplay, Audiomack, Amazon Music, and TikTok.