Chinaza King Nazzy Is Crafting A Defining Catalogue Across Genres

Posted on by Chukwuemeka Odiogo

There’s a side of African music that rarely attracts the same attention as the artists on stage. It exists in writing rooms and recording studios, where producers and songwriters shape records long before they reach an audience. Chinaza King Nazzy has built much of his work in those spaces. As a producer, songwriter and live music curator, he’s one of the figures doing the actual engineering behind a sound the rest of the world is only now catching up to, and his growing catalogue is starting to make the case for itself

Nazzy’s ear was built in two very different rooms. He came up in Lagos, in the collaborative studio sessions where a song can change shape three times before lunch, and the best takes usually come from instinct, not planning. That’s where he learned to work fast and trust the moment. London gave him something else: structure, patience, and the discipline of the UK’s more clinical studio culture. What he’s built since is neither one nor the other. It’s Nigeria studio energy filtered through UK precision, and it doesn’t sound like anyone’s template but his own. 

You can hear that range across his catalogue. He’ll anchor a UK rap record one week and build out a contemporary urban baseline the next, and neither feels like a detour. Nothing about it is forced. His arrangements tend to leave room rather than fill it, which matters because his songs have to hold up twice: once on record, once on a stage. That’s a harder brief than it sounds, and it’s probably why his name doesn’t announce itself the way a signature sound would. He’s not chasing a stamp. He’s chasing whatever the song actually needs. 

On TKandZ’s “London2Paris,” Nazzy worked as arranger and creative director, and his fingerprints are in what the record chooses not to do as much as what it includes. There’s no scaffolding here, no ornamental layering for its own sake, just a song that trusts its own centre of gravity. That’s a specific kind of authorship, the kind that shapes a record’s shape rather than its sound, deciding what stays out of the way so the melody can carry the weight it’s built to carry. 

 

That restraint matters because of what the song is actually carrying. Underneath its travel imagery, the flights, the whip, the cities passing like scenery, “London2Paris” is a record about outrunning pressure rather than celebrating escape. TKandZ names the exhaustion plainly: three years in, close enough to the top to feel people repositioning around him, watched by people who’d rather copy the formula than watch him win. 

There’s real fatigue in the writing too, a stretch where the confidence cracks and he admits to losing faith, wanting to rewrite the chapter he’s in rather than push through it, before the record pulls itself back into motion. That’s the tension the arrangement is built to hold: a song that has to sound light enough to move at speed while carrying something considerably heavier underneath it. Nothing in the production overstates that weight or undercuts it. It just gives the vocal enough room to hold both at once, which is the harder job than it looks. 

The restraint isn’t absence; it’s direction, and it’s the decision that lets the record travel as easily as its title implies it should, even when what it’s moving away from is more complicated than the hook lets on. 

Gift OFA’s “Setting” asks something else of him entirely. Nazzy wrote, composed and co-produced the record, three roles working toward one idea rather than three. The song isn’t about arrival so much as about staying sharp on the way there. The writing moves fluidly between Yoruba, Pidgin and English, never settling fully into one register, which mirrors exactly what the lyrics are describing. Gratitude sits next to vigilance throughout relief at having survived a harder chapter, paired with a clear-eyed refusal to get comfortable too soon. 

 

“Only by grace say we dey” and “Olohun se, say the time go reach my turn” hold that tension inside two lines: faith functioning less like comfort and more like infrastructure. The hook, “I’m on a setting,” repeats itself into meaning not a finish line, but a coordinate, a way of locating yourself inside motion you haven’t finished yet. It’s a song about ease that never quite lets its guard down, which is a more disciplined position than pure celebration would be. Two records, two entirely different job descriptions, and the same instinct running underneath both: know exactly how much a song needs and stop there. 

Taken together, “London2Paris” and “Setting” show a producer and songwriter who approaches each project with a clear sense of structure, balance and purpose. Rather than relying on a fixed production formula, Chinaza King Nazzy adapts his contribution to the needs of the record, whether through arrangement, songwriting or creative direction. As his catalogue continues to expand across international collaborations, that consistency remains one of the defining characteristics of his work.

uNder: Best New Artists (June, 2026)

Posted on by The Native

In an ever-evolving industry dominated by mainstream giants, our dedicated monthly column uNder serves as a vital platform for discovering authentic and exciting talents bubbling below the surface. For years, this column has been committed and continues to be dedicated to amplifying these unique voices and untapped potential of niche artists who offer a distinct alternative to the status quo.

For this month’s entry, we have DaveTheOracle, Musta4a, Che Mario and Kiki Celine, noteworthy talents from across the continent who are pushing the boundaries of contemporary African music. DaveTheOracle has recently gained significant traction through his collaborations with uNder alumnus scottyolorin. Meanwhile, Che Mario is reaching thousands of TikTok feeds with his innovative fusion of various musical styles. Ghana’s Kiki Celine and Musta4a are also reimagining genre boundaries, positioning themselves at the vanguard of a new era. 

Musta4a

For Fans Of: Rema, Bryson Tiller & Lojay 

Ikorodu has become a breeding ground for some of Nigeria’s most exciting young artists, and Musta4a (pronounced Mustapha) is actively expanding the area’s musical legacy. Straight out of the Lagos outskirts, the singer-songwriter got his early start with records like 2020’s “Energy,” quickly grabbing listeners drawn to his finely-tuned ear for innate musicality. As his catalogue deepened, so did his ambition.

He took a formative step in defining his artistic identity with ‘Serenade, Vol. 1,’ settling into the easy-going style that has become central to his music while proving his ability to hold together a cohesive body of work. His airy falsetto soon became a defining trait, a sound that continued to evolve on the 2025 collaborative EP, ‘Musty & Yugo, Vol. 1.’ On that project, Musta4a expanded on the style he describes as Neo-Afropop, blending Afropop, R&B, and the free-flowing sensibilities of Nigeria’s alternative scene into a seamless listening experience. The release reaffirmed his strengths as both a performer and a songwriter, a skill set that has also earned him recognition behind the scenes.

His growing profile has been further shaped by key collaborative moments, including standout appearances on Cosamote’s ‘Files ‘26.’ There, scene-stealing turns on “One + One” and “Pamukutu” spoke clearly to his versatility alongside a new generation of talent. Musta4a has maintained a stellar run through 2026, driven by singles like “CTRL” and “INTROVERT III,” alongside collaborations with bubbling peers like Danpapa GTA that have quickly become staple tracks for the new guard. Meanwhile, on “Party,” he maps out his sonic fascinations, looping vibrant elements to tastefully float between club records and slow burns. The success of these records sets the stage for Musta4a to fully hone his sound, inviting his audience to tap into a worldview that feels entirely familiar yet refreshingly ahead of its time. – M.A

 

 

Che Mario

For Fans Of:  Doja Cat, Naeto C, and Drake. 

Che Mario might just be the 22-year-old but the London-based singer might legitimately have a claim to having the song of the summer thanks to his scorching hit, “U Da Cake,” that’s building momentum. Blending influences from Dancehall, Gqom, and Hip-Hop, the song is built around  the viral “you the birthday” phrase that has been a staple on TikTok in the last few months, displaying Mario’s knack for infusing of-the-moment references into his music while maintaining his blistering flow. Released in May 2026, “U Da Cake” has already crossed over 400,000 streams on Spotify and is quickly becoming a reference point for parties across Western Europe while catching the attention of curators and music enthusiasts alike across the world. 

It’s an interesting inflection point for Mario who only whose musical journey started at the age of five when he started to receive classical piano training before going on to learn how to play the drums, bass, and keytar. Those early years have helped sharpen his instincts for melodies and developed a willingness to move beyond the strictures of genres if need be. It’s a knack that he has consistently shown so far in his nascent career that has seen him receive significant co-signs from acts like Tyla and Ayra Starr. 

As it is, Mario’s discography is still byte-sized making his debut with 2023’s “Wanna Do It,” a sultry anthem about love and desire that rides along on his irreverent flow and attempts to assure a love interest that he’s in for the long haul while playing it cool. After a two year hiatus, he returned with “Like That” in 2025, premiering the genre-blurring fusion of Hip-Hop cadences and diasporic Dance influences that have launched him to the cusp of global renown. Both tantalisingly fresh and eerily familiar, his 2026 song, “U Da Cake,” has now placed Mario on a pedestal that will only keep his stocks high as the world rocks to the refrain of his popular song all year round.  – W.O

 

DaveTheOracle

For Fans of: Psycho YP, Juice WRLD & Kayode

scottyolorin’s growing reputation has recently been bolstered by the notable success of “FAAJI,” a new release that capitalises on the impressive momentum the young singer has been building in recent months. While the single highlights his talent for crafting infectious melodies and clever lyrical hooks, it is DaveTheOracle’s contribution that truly brings the song together. He dovetails nicely with scottyolorin on Kuspid and Nazz’s spacey beat, giving the song added oomph with his smooth vocals and synergistic flows. 

Over the past few weeks, the Lagos-based rapper and singer’s profile has grown significantly, largely due to a fruitful partnership with scottyolorin. This creative alliance has not only delivered the aforementioned “FAAJI” but also newer tracks like “GLACIER GIRL,” featuring Kobilou, and “4:44 FREESTYLE,” a posse cut featuring Monochrome and Zen Univrse alongside the duo. This run has allowed DaveTheOracle to showcase much of what he’s about: a promising rising act that’s adept at singing and rapping in equal measure, making him a versatile force within the underground scene.

While this recent run has undoubtedly brought DaveTheOracle the most visibility in his career thus far, he has been putting himself out there since 2021 when he released his official debut single “No Drill.” This initial release effectively showcased his signature blend of melodic rapping and singing, which he fleshed out on his first project, ‘Love Is War,’ a four-track EP that arrived over a year after his debut. His next project, ‘BLOCK 19,’ wouldn’t arrive until 2024. In that extended period, his sound and lyrical themes had become more expansive, exemplified by cuts like “Dave’s Prayer,” “Lester’s House,” and “Activitate,” which bridged the gap between his gritty raps and infectious, melodic Afropop crooning. 

He’ll take another two-year hiatus before finally returning with “I DON’t MiND,” a collab with fellow rising rapper Suono Sai. This would kickstart the impressive run he’s currently on, following up with a couple of fire guest verses and a 3-pack titled ‘SWAGA VOL. 1.’ The frequency of his releases this year suggests he’s finally finding a consistent rhythm, moving away from the sporadic release schedule of his early career toward a more prolific output that promises to keep him at the forefront of the underground scene. – B.A

 

Kiki Celine

For Fans of:  Anabel Rose, Gyakie, and SZA. 

Kiki Celine operates from a Soul framework but there’s something forward-leaning about her work that reveals a hidden Pop intention. Born Celine Elizabeth Kiki Dede Ofori, Celine’s music is a vibrant representation of what she’s feeling at any given moment in her life, offering vignettes of her lived reality from track to track. Whether alone or as part of the Ghanaian music collective, 99 PHACES, Celine brings a diaristic approach to songwriting that places the nuances of her life at the center of her artistic outlook, displaying the nous of an artist that’s both at ease with their process and keenly aware of where the journey might be taking them to. 

Celine’s career kicked off in September 2022 with “Love Letter 2,” a collaboration off YungDegraft’s project, ‘Flowers & Rings.’  Her solo debut followed in February 2023 with the release of “Desire,” a Dancehall-Hip-Hop-adjacent exploration of desire and its various dimensions that featured close collaborative partner, Tikki Waja. Five months later, “Desire” was followed up by “Fragile,”  an earnest glimpse into her life that featured a roll call of her self-confessed insecurities and desires. 

Similar impulses have driven singles like “Old Love,” “Memory Lane,” and a standout showing on “Closer Tonight,” off ‘HeartStrings & Loops’ by Iyke Parker and LeonardoDDJ. In October 2025, she made several singing and songwriting contributions to 99 PHACES’ debut album, ‘THE KIDS ARE JUST FINE,’  performing admirably on highlights like “BA HE MI (FINDING MYSELF” and “MELODY.” Her first single of 2026, “Good Life,” is a wholehearted embrace of the softer side of life as she sings about finding peace of mind away from a toxic lover and luxuriating in her new found lease on life. From following in the footsteps of her icons like Gyakie, Tems, SZA, MzVee and Baaba J,  Celine is fashioning out a career built of boundless self-expression. – W.O

 

The Shuffle: Sir Shina Peters’ Juju-Rewiring ‘Ace’ Changed Nigerian Music Forever 

Posted on by The Jide Taiwo

The phrase “You had to be there!” is frequently invoked to convey the enormity of Sir Shina Peters’ stardom, as well as the immeasurable impact of his breakout album, ‘Ace (Afro—Juju series 1).’ Yet, no superlative is too excessive in describing him and it. Released in 1989, ‘Ace’ marked one of those rare moments when a single album altered the direction of an entire genre and changed the course of history. 

Its impact was so profound that nearly forty years later, its influence can still be seen in contemporary Nigerian music. And yes, it is why younger fans still gravitate to him despite the irreverence that Gen Zers have come to be known (and grudgingly admired) for. Juju music was already king when ‘Ace’ was released. Towards the late 1960s and the 1970s, it overtook Highlife and dominated Nigeria’s social scene. Juju commanded huge audiences and produced some of the country’s biggest stars. Titans such as Ayinde Bakare, Dele Ojo, Kayode Fashola, IK Dairo, King Sunny Adé and Chief Commander Ebenezer Obey had built vast followings and transformed Juju into a commercially successful cultural force.

 

To understand the significance of ‘Ace,’ one must first understand the journey of Sir Shina Peters himself. If his life story were the plot of a Nollywood film, many would dismiss it as unrealistic. Long before becoming a superstar, Shina was a child prodigy in his family’s C&S Church. At the age of 10, however, he told his parents he was not proceeding to secondary school; instead, he wanted to be a musician. When his parents told him off, he ran away from home, never to return.

He bounced around Lagos until he met Chief Commander Ebenezer Obey, with whom he lived for a few months and further developed his guitar skills. But he found a start when he met General Prince Adekunle, one of the great bandleaders in Juju music. Prince Adekunle essentially adopted Shina, referring to him on stage and on record as “Omo mi, Young Shina!” It was in Adekunle’s band that he learned the artistic discipline, showmanship, and technical sophistication that defined the Juju tradition.

His next major chapter came with the duo Shina Adewale, formed alongside Segun Adewale, who was also a singer in Prince Adekunle’s band. But like many creative alliances, the partnership eventually dissolved. Between 1980 and 1984, he released four albums that were not bad by any stretch, but they simply didn’t match the deluge of delightful music produced by Juju musicians at the time. Nevertheless, he was a minor star; famous enough to have started siring children at the age of 15, and as he would have you know, building his first house at 14.

By the mid-1980s, SSP was convinced that Juju needed a new language, an evolution. That evolution became Afro-Juju, his variant of Juju music that created ‘Ace.’

One of the enduring myths about innovation is that it arrives fully formed, borne in a spark of creativity. In reality, new genres emerge through conversation, experimentation, and cross-pollination. This was what happened to Shina Peters. He has often acknowledged the influence of Fela Anikulapo Kuti in shaping his thinking. According to him, Fela told him to incorporate pidgin English into his music. It was a deceptively simple suggestion, but a transformative one. On his 1986 album, ‘Sewele,’ he tried it out for the first time, even including a track called “Yabis” which, as you can imagine, was an imitation of Fela.

 

Another important influence came from Sikiru Ayinde Barrister. Barrister had demonstrated the rhythmic possibilities of the omele, the fast, energetic talking drum that played a central role in Fuji music. He encouraged Shina to inject fresh momentum into Juju using the omele. Where traditional Juju often emphasized flowing grooves and layered guitar conversations, Afro-Juju introduced a more aggressive rhythmic attack.

Then there was the invaluable contribution of producer and musician Laolu “Akins” Akintobi. He was among the most innovative studio minds in Nigeria. Having spent years experimenting with Funk, Rock, Disco, and Electronic production techniques as part of the Funk group BLO, he understood how technology could reshape African music without diminishing its identity. Akins helped introduce digital production textures, programmed elements, loops, and a more contemporary studio aesthetic that became structural components of the music. Thanks to Akintobi’s work, ‘Ace‘ emerged as deeply Yoruba and unmistakably modern at the same time.

From a technical perspective, the album was a masterclass in musical architecture. The guitars retained the intricate interlocking patterns that defined Juju music, but they operated differently. Instead of gently weaving around one another, they often locked into repetitive, hypnotic grooves that intensified over time.

The percussion section became the album’s engine room. Multiple layers of drums created a dense rhythmic framework that felt closer to a dancefloor experience than a traditional social-party performance. The bass lines were more assertive. The vocal arrangements were more direct. The use of call-and-response became tighter and more urgent. Spread across two sides, each containing six interconnected tracks that flow seamlessly for roughly fifteen minutes, the album feels less like a collection of songs and more like a carefully constructed musical journey. The opening title track, “Afro-Juju,” serves as a manifesto, announcing Shina Peters’ new sound with aplomb.

“Ijo Shina” captures the album’s lively spirit, transforming the dance floor into the centre of the experience and showcasing the irresistible grooves that made Afro-Juju a youthful phenomenon. Then there is “Irawo Lagba (Ace),” on Side 2, the album’s defining statement whose title loosely translates as “the brightest star.” Part self-coronation and part declaration of artistic arrival, the song embodies the confidence, ambition, and reinvention that drove the entire project.

 

These tracks exemplify the album’s central achievement of blending innovation, danceability, virtuosity, and cultural authenticity into a seamless musical experience that kept listeners engaged from beginning to end. Most importantly, Shina understood tension and release. Every three to four minutes, the beat broke into a new one, the groove held together by Laolu Akins’ production. This technique would later become a hallmark of many Nigerian dance-oriented genres, from Fuji’s commercial explosion in the 1990s to contemporary Afrobeats.

The immediate reaction to ‘Ace’ was extraordinary. Young people embraced it with a fervour rarely seen in Juju music before. University campuses played it. Nightclubs played it. House parties played it. As he told this writer many years later, he was performing at events every day for a solid two-year period, sometimes playing multiple events per day. That album crossed social boundaries that had traditionally separated audiences. His performances became legendary. Afro-Juju was a cultural movement, complete with its own fashion, dance styles, and youth identity.

The legacy of ‘Ace’ extends beyond its commercial success—which in itself is mind-blowing. Selling five million records was unimaginable. If it were in this streaming era, ‘Ace’ would have recorded 6 billion streams. But the most important achievement of the album was psychological. Before ‘Ace,’ younger musicians often felt constrained by the expectations of established genres. Innovation carried risks, and deviating too far from tradition could alienate audiences and patrons. SSP proved the opposite.

 

He demonstrated that evolution could be commercially viable. More than that, he showed that innovation could become a competitive advantage. His success encouraged musicians across multiple genres to experiment more boldly, a lesson that would be pivotal for the emergence of urban contemporary popular music a few years later. 

This principle would later underpin many of Nigeria’s biggest musical revolutions, from Remedies to Baba Dee to Trybesmen. One can draw a direct line from ‘Ace’ to the mainstreaming of Fuji in the 1990s, to the genre-blending experiments of the early 2000s, and ultimately to the global rise of Afrobeats. The details differ, but the philosophy remains the same: respect tradition while refusing to be confined by it, because audiences reward originality when it remains connected to cultural authenticity. 

The immense fame that followed ‘Ace’ elevated Shina Peters into a level of celebrity rarely experienced by Nigerian musicians at the time. His mother suffered a fatal cardiac arrest when yet another rumour of his paternity made the rounds again. With that fame came scrutiny, expectations, controversies, and personal challenges. Yet none of those developments diminishes the album’s artistic achievement. If anything, they underscore the magnitude of its impact. ‘Ace’ was a cultural event that superseded musical successes. It altered the economics of Juju music, expanded the demographic reach of the genre, and elevated live performance standards.

Most importantly, it proves to Nigerian music that reinvention is essential to survival.

What Does Cannes 2026 Say About the Future of African Cinema?

Posted on by Olumuyiwa Aderemi

A glance through publications on African cinema at the close of 2025 revealed strong expectation for more collaboration on projects, diversification of distribution avenues, intentional storytelling and experimentation with genre in 2026. There was growing optimism at films from Africa not being watered down, futuristic takes on films as exemplified by ‘Memory of Princess Mumbi,’ the growth of streaming platforms, more intercontinental collaborations and new models to finance film production. Still, optimism is easier to declare than verify. Fortunately, the Cannes Film Festival presents the perfect opportunity for such verification, especially in light of raving comments about the African film selection at the festival this year.

Held annually in France, the Cannes Film Festival is one of the world’s influential film festivals, alongside the Berlin International Film Festival, Venice Film Festival, Toronto Film Festival and the Sundance Film Festival. The Festival’s vibrancy and sensibilities, like most others, shapes which films become globally visible and historically remembered. Un Certain Regard, for innovative, experimental and avant-garde works by directors, is one of the festival’s important award categories. Meaning “a certain look,” this award category focuses on risky and stylistic storytelling. 

 

The importance, to Africa, of this award comes from more than representation. In 2025, Akinola Davies Jr. ‘s ‘My Father’s Shadow,’ made headlines as the first Nigerian film to be selected for Un Certain Regard selection. 2024 saw Zambian-Welsh director Rungano Nyoni’s ‘On Becoming a Guinea Fowl’ selected for the Un Certain Regard award on a platter of accolades along the lines of being “a vibrant exploration of family and social mores.” In 2023, ‘Banel & Adama,’ a romance movie by Senegalese screenwriter Ramata-Toulaye Sy where the main characters’ love for each other goes against their village’s beliefs made a run for Palme d’Or, the festival’s most important award. 

This was followed by ‘Four Daughters’, Tunisian director Kaouther Ben Hania’s documentary-drama that explores loss, motherhood and radicalisation after a woman’s two eldest daughters leave the family to join Daesh fighters in Libya. Going as far back as Senegalese director, Safi Faye’s 1979 Un Certain Regard submission, ‘Fad’Jal,’ there is no doubt that Africa’s representation at the Cannes Film Festival exists, thus giving credibility to the continent’s filmmakers as being capable of ingenuity and creativity when it comes to making films, like their counterparts anywhere in the world.

In 2026, the African films selected for this award are ‘Ben’Imana’ by Marie-Clémentine Dusabejambo, ‘Congo Boy’ by Rafiki Fariala and ‘Strawberries’ (also referred to as ‘La Más Dulce’) by Laïla Marrakchi. ‘Ben’Imana,’ Rwanda’s first selection in the category, explores the life of Vénéranda, a survivor of the Rwandan genocide of 1994, and her attempts at rebuilding the trust that her community had lost as well as helping the said community to endure the long process of reconciliation. 

While trauma carries the thematic weight of Dusabejambo’s submission, war, poverty and social collapse appears to do just that for ‘Congo Boy.’ Starring Bradley Fiomona Dembeasset as Robert, the film follows the life of a Congolese refugee who struggles to take care of his sisters and brothers on his own, while trying to survive an unremitting blitz of civil headwinds as a result of Central Africa Republic’s civil war. The last submission, ‘Strawberries (La Más Dulce),’ unspools the real-life story of women who leave their country to pick strawberries in another country, with the promise of making money to take care of their families, only to be met with exploitation, sexual abuse and harassment and slavery. 

 

These three films tap into the deepest parts of the human psyche to speak to various themes replete and common in nearly all African films. The contrast becomes clear when placed beside some of this year’s non-African Un Certain Regard selection. Jordan Firstman’s ‘Club Kid’ (US) explores the protagonist’s attempt at fatherhood, after a lifetime of reckless indulgence, earning the film a strong reputation as the “big hit of Cannes 2026”. Jane Schoenbrun’s ‘Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma’ (US) explores queer and trans-identity, memory and horror, and sexuality. France, on the other hand, presents ‘Words of Love’ by Rudi Rosenberg and ‘A Girl’s Story’  by Judith Godrèche as their submission for the festival. While Rosenberg creates a delicate family drama about the tense relationship between a mother and daughter, who seeks a father she’s never met, Godrèche adaptation of French author Annie Ernaux’s memoir revisits an incident from the author’s teenage years with the perspective of adulthood.

Combined, these European and American selections explore a variety of themes such as sexual awakening, absence, family intimacy, emotional longing, formative sexual experience, male dominance among others. Upon comparison, it feels like African cinema at Cannes is merely updating familiar festival expectations and answering the question of whether global cinema has become more open to African complexity. If anything, it seems to have created a sophisticated cultural shorthand for helping certain African realities travel more than others.

A cursory look through some of the world’s major film festivals would highlight that this pattern is not unique only to Cannes. At the Berlin International Film Festival, African films that were recognised are often ones with political history and social struggle at its epicentre. Take, for instance, Mati Diop’s ‘Dahomey’, on reparations of stolen Beninese artefacts which won the festival’s Golden Bear award in 2024 while Alain Gomis’s ‘Félicité’, about a singer navigating the streets of Kinshasa to raise money to save her son’s leg from being amputated, revealing the truth about the city’s poor healthcare, was awarded the Silver Bear Grand Jury Prize in 2017.

The Sundance Festival, though it claims to support experimental and independent films, paints a similar motif. Chiwetel Ejiofor’s The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind and Nikyatu Jusu’s Nanny all centred themes of famine, poverty or migration. Across the African films submitted and awarded at these festivals, they imply that only these kinds of stories are possessed with the exact kind of festival currency expected than those with comedy, African sci-fi or romance as thematic focus, just like the same message the African selection at Cannes 2026 conveys.

This imbalance cannot be separated from the political economy of selection. To explain this, the process that goes behind choosing a film’s country of origin is important. ‘Congo Boy,’ for instance, was produced by Makongo Films in the Central African Republic alongside UNITÉ in France and Karta Film in Italy. It was co-written by Boris Lojkine and Tommy Baron, both French filmmakers. The film’s distribution was handled by The Party Film Sales, a French international sales agency. ‘Ben’Imana’ involves production companies Princesse M Productions in Gabon and Ejo Cine in Rwanda, in collaboration with Les Films du Bilboquet in France and DuoFilm in Norway while ‘Strawberries ( La Más Dulce)’ “hails” from Lumen (France), Mont Fleuri Production (Morocco), Fasten Films (Spain), and Mirage Films (Belgium) production roots. Meanwhile, France international company, Lucky Number, handled film sales and distribution. 

This is excluding the fact that financing of these films themselves come from international sources, like the Berlinale’s World Cinema Fund. A film’s nationality often stems from the production companies that back it and where the money comes from. For example, if a Paris-based production company handles financing, registration, production and controls distribution, the film may be officially French even if its story, cast and director are all African. This is why ‘Ben’Imana’ is listed as Rwanda, Gabon, France, Norway, Ivory Coast;‘Strawberries ( La Más Dulce)’ as France, Morocco, Spain, Belgium; and ‘Congo Boy’ as Central African Republic, France, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Italy co-productions respectively. 

This shows that, as predicted, the visibility of Africa cinema is expanding in 2026 but its infrastructure is majorly dependent on external funding and sources, due in no small part to lack of large domestic funding systems, state grants and strong distribution frameworks. Yet, in spite of these, the question lingers: if the future of African cinema cannot be divorced from European or external funding, what direction is this future taking? Can it truly be said that these submissions are, in the truest sense, from Africa?

This year’s Cannes, which validates the pattern, also provides the most convincing proof of what might happen when the pattern is violated. With a perfect score on Rotten Tomatoes and a standing ovation at its Directors’ Fortnight premiere, Arie and Chuko Esiri’s ‘Clarissa’, an adaptation of Virginia Woolf’s NOVEL, Mrs. Dalloway, set entirely in Lagos, focused solely on desire, memory, intimacy, and lost aspiration with no signs of poverty, displacement, or conflict in its thematic structures.

The funding of ‘Clarissa,’ however, sets it apart even more: MBO Capital, a Nigerian private equity firm, and CANEX Creations, a division of the African Export-Import Bank, provided the film’s funding, making it a unique example of an internationally acclaimed African movie with significant African funding as well. African capital is positioned in the concept as the main force behind development and output rather than as a passive observer. Chuko Esiri noted that “from the beginning, it was important to us that Clarissa be both rooted and resourced on the continent where it is set.“ The Esiri brothers addressed both the structural and thematic issues that constitute the main focus of this article in a single picture, demonstrating that the foundation for a different sort of African cinema future is conceivable. 

Interview: Wande Coal Is Still The Blueprint

Posted on by The Native

The history of Afropop is incomplete without Wande Coal. Seventeen years ago, his seminal debut, ‘Mushin 2 Mo’Hits,’ expanded the sonic and textural range of the genre while solidifying Coal as one of the scene’s most innovative acts. In the years since then, he has been referenced as one of influential figures in Afropop. It’s a tag that Wande Coal himself has always been oblivious of, often pondering his place in the game publicly like he did on 2023’s ‘Legend Or No Legend.’

There are none of those uncertainties on ‘King Coal,’ his first album in three years that leans into his legacy without losing touch with the present of Afropop.  Across 15 songs, he touches base with the future of Afropop on tracks like “DEARLY,” “MONEY,” and “Sure For Me,” while also linking up fellow originators like Wizkid and Tiwa Savage for an eclectic set that sees Wande Coal channeling his genre-blurring best. “I feel like ‘King Coal‘ the album is well deserved,” he told Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio. “I also feel like it was the time to be able to really show what 20 years experience is like.”

The conversation has been edited for clarity. 

How did you get into music?

I give thanks to God Almighty for the gift itself. My parents love music. I feel like my dad is a very vital part of my artistry because he put me on Michael Jackson at a young age. At age five, I was listening to Michael Jackson. So it was just a no-brainer. Then I used to go to church and I joined the choir. When I got to school, it was just something I loved. I loved dancing and I loved Usher and the Michael Jackson dances. So, it was just all in one, and God helped me. That was it. When I got in the industry, I just prayed to God that I always wanted to be doing hits and just be happy doing it. That’s how I got here. 

How does it feel to inspire the new generation of artists?

I’m grateful for the new generation of artists. I’m happy that they say it out and you know some are very confident to say I am an inspiration to their music. I also feel like that was very intentional for me because I also know that music lives forever, if you get what I mean. So, the new generation is what I live for. It’s like I knew I was going to create this father figure impact, but also I love to see them do greater. 

How are you feeling about ‘King Coal?’

This album is fire. This [is an] album I’ve been working on for a while. I feel like ‘King Coal‘ the album is well deserved. I also feel like it was the time to be able to really show what 20 years experience is like. So, I’m happy about the album. I’m most happy about my features, because it’s been my dream to always have a label and have artists that follow my footprint. I was able to do that, I signed two beautiful singers. They are badass. I’ve signed Dera and Laz, and the thing that I’m grateful for is that they are on my album.

How do you approach romance and putting it into your music?

I’m a bit of an old school lover. I choose to be a good person because that’s what helps me grow, and that’s just it. I love music, I love inspiring others and you can never build a foundation without pillars. You need people to build the house. So, I’m old school, and that’s a fire vibe.

What was it like working with Wizkid again?

As everyone knows, Wizkid is my brother. We started this from the jump. So, we never ever put the love aside. When we make music, we make music for fun. It’s like we love it, like it’s like basketball. It’s like we’re like basketball players, and every time we want to make those threes. The record is just fire but just shout out to Wizkid, my brother for life. 

You worked with BNXN and Ruger too. 

Like I said, I love to work with these young guys. They are on fire. Ruger’s on fire and BNXN’s on fire. As soon as I heard the record, I was just like, “No way, let’s do this. Let’s go.” I’m going to find a way to do my own dance. I’m outside for real. 

What’s the message you want to leave the next generation?

As they say, I’m strong and I’m happy that I’m in this direction. That’s the most important thing: that I can educate through music. Music for me is always not just melodies. If you go into the depth of music, you will see that I always pass a message. So, my advice to the young generation coming, make sure it comes from your heart. That’s it. 

What’s next for Black Diamond Entertainment?

I hope to open up like a big franchise  where kids can learn how to produce and learn how to create. I want to always be going in there like a professor and put them on game. That’s what I want to do. I want to have a music school where you know where I come in like a dean, like a professor with no cane or no knife but just my book and my music. It’s fun for me. 

Azzi On The Beat Wants To Challenge The Status Quo

Posted on by Folake Ajao

There is a version of this story where Azzi On The Beat stays in the background. Where he is just a name in the credits, a producer tag at the top of a track, or a reference point for the sound of someone else’s breakout. Instead, Azzi is in the middle of a crowd, building a beat from scratch while people watch and lose themselves to something they are witnessing being born in real time.

For decades, music producers have occupied a peculiar position within popular culture. Their work shapes the records that soundtrack people’s lives, yet their visibility rarely matches their influence. Audiences recognise the voices, the faces, and personalities attached to songs. Yet, the people responsible for building the sound often remain in the background, their contributions acknowledged in credits but rarely experienced in real time.

 

Azzi On The Beat has spent the last few years challenging that arrangement. Rather than treating production as something confined to studios and software, he has built an artistic practice around making beats in front of an audience. His performances place the creative process at the centre of the experience. The crowd is not simply listening to music, it is watching it happen. The decision emerged from a frustration that many producers eventually confronted. “I sat down one day and thought about how producers are always in the background of the work,” he explains. “The musician takes center stage, and the producer is either a feature credit or completely invisible.”

His answer was not to move away from production but to make production itself the performance. He builds beats on stage, in front of the audience, in the moment, constructing rhythms and textures in real time while responding to the energy of the room. In many ways, the transition is an extension of the environment that shaped him. Raised on the outskirts of Bariga, he left home at five years old alongside his older brother and grew up within Footprint of David-a creative academy in Bariga-where different artistic disciplines existed side by side. Dance occupied a central place in that world. So did singing, percussion and performance. 

“My growing up was rooted in a dancing group,” he shares. “The academy had different aspects of art. We did singing, dancing, drums, all of that.” For a long time, dance appeared to be the path he would follow. The distinction only became clear later, when he began examining which form of expression felt most natural to him. Faced with the choice, he found himself drawn more deeply toward music. That decision eventually led him toward production, though the influence of dance never disappeared.

Unlike producers who treat the stage as a place to replay completed work, Azzi approaches it as a space for interaction. Rhythm, movement and audience response remain active components of every set. He works with a background track as a foundation and builds everything else live over it, which means he is simultaneously constructing music and reading the room, adjusting direction based on the energy in front of him. 

His February Boiler Room set was a wall-to-wall wonder, with people pressing close and noise coming from every direction. He moved through it, explaining: “Practice makes perfect. I do this every day.” The honest version of that answer is that he has practiced until technical execution no longer requires conscious thought, freeing him up to focus entirely on the crowd.

 

Anyone encountering Azzi’s work for the first time is likely to encounter another recurring symbol alongside the live performance: the masquerade. The association emerged gradually. Audiences began connecting the horn he carries during performances with the imagery of traditional masquerades, and over time the comparison evolved into a defining aspect of his public identity. “People started relating my horn to a masquerade,” he starts. “Whenever I want to perform, they see the horn and say, ‘Who is this big masquerade that is out?’” 

Per Azzi, the horn represents spirituality. Before most performances, he opens with a traditional chant, a way of grounding the set in something older than the room he is standing in. “The horn represents the gods for me,” he says. Within many communities, the arrival of a masquerade transforms the energy of a gathering. Azzi’s interpretation borrows from that cultural significance while introducing an important distinction. His masquerade has a face. The performer remains visible. The audience sees the person behind the spectacle, which feels particularly significant for an artist whose entire career has been built around making visible what usually stays hidden.

Those ideas extend into the music itself. His sound is commonly associated with Mara, but even that description arrives with qualifications. “What I play is not related to Afro, not related to house. Mara is not boxed,” he explains. He describes his approach as futuristic,  a layering of forward-facing textures onto a foundation that runs much deeper than the music itself. Elements associated with Electronic music sit alongside traditional sounds. Contemporary production techniques meet older forms of musical expression. The result feels neither entirely futuristic nor entirely rooted in the past, which is precisely the tension he is interested in.

That tension is most deliberately explored in “Eyo Fusion,” a project built around questions of cultural continuity. What does it mean to carry tradition into the future? How can ancestral sounds survive without becoming frozen in time? “The tradition never dies,” Azzi says. “Even though my sound is in the future, I still have to bring the ancestors’ chants into it.” A full Azzi set reflects this clearly. Traditional chants appear alongside electronic abstractions, live percussionists and chanters share the stage with production equipment, and the conversation between different generations of sound sits at the centre of the experience.

 

That philosophy has helped distinguish his work within a crowded musical landscape, but it was a different kind of record that significantly expanded his audience. “Mr. Barry” emerged from experimentation rather than careful planning. Following the momentum generated by his Boiler Room set, Azzi and his team decided it was time to offer audiences something new. The session unfolded loosely. Ideas were tested without excessive concern for outcomes, and the chorus arrived from a whistle sound, where the word “Barry” surfaced and stuck. 

Then the featured hype man, Barry, came in and the other elements were added to see if they worked, and a team member who was absent during recording later rearranged everything into its final shape. “Everything unfolded as a joke,” Azzi says. He was not convinced by it when they finished. He rarely is about the tracks that end up connecting most: “When I criticize a particular work I do, when I feel like I don’t like it, that’s when people tell me they like this song.” Within days of release, the song was approaching 100,000 streams and beginning to travel beyond the communities already paying attention to his work.

 

Viral moments are not things he allows himself to dwell on. “Once I start feeling too praised, too happy about it, I know myself. I start losing it,” he says. “I know it is written. It will happen. So I just let it go.” The perspective reflects a broader focus on his mindset. For an artist whose work depends heavily on experimentation and continual development, remaining attached to a single success can become a ceiling.

That mindset will likely serve him as his career enters a new phase. International performances across Europe are already confirmed for this summer, including appearances at the Dour Festival in Belgium, one of the country’s most established music events, alongside shows in Amsterdam, Marseille, Berlin and Italy through September, October and November. One Night One Gathering, his annual event, returns this year with a new concept: “Finding X.” It positions  Azzi as the X variable being searched for. A new single, “Big Mask,” coined from his identity as the big masquerade  is close to release, extending the mythology that has become central to his artistic identity.

At its core, Azzi’s career is an ongoing attempt to rethink what a producer can be within contemporary music culture. Rather than accepting invisibility as part of the job description, he has built a practice that places creation itself in public view.. The audience can see the process, the performer, and the face behind the sound. For Azzi, that visibility appears to be only the beginning.

The Headies Moving To Toronto Leaves More Questions Than Answers

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

During the “Big Announcement” event held at the Eko Hotel and Suites on June 15, the organisers of The Headies shared plans for the 18th edition of the award ceremony with fans and industry stakeholders. It was revealed that the upcoming annual ceremony will be hosted in Toronto, Canada. Ayo Aminashaun, the visionary behind the ceremony, explained the move in an official statement: “We are taking The Headies to Toronto because African music is now a global force, and the institutions that celebrate it must grow with it. Toronto offers the partnerships, infrastructure, international visibility, and economic support required to deliver The Headies at the scale that African music deserves.” Aminashaun concluded by emphasising that “The Headies is not moving away from home. The Headies is taking home to the world.”

The announcement that the forthcoming edition of The Headies would be held in Canada is hardly big or surprising given the award ceremony’s recent history. In 2022 and 2023, the ceremony was held at the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre in Atlanta to much controversy. Many fans and industry pundits took issue with the decision to relocate a domestic awards gala abroad, arguing that it distances the ceremony from its roots and alienates the local audience that fostered its growth.

 

At the time, Aminashaun similarly justified the move to Atlanta as a strategic effort to transform the ceremony into a global brand, capitalising on the worldwide rise of Afrobeats. However, the widespread disapproval of this relocation served as a mere reflection of a deeper, more cynical sentiment that an increasing number of fans and music enthusiasts have come to associate with the award ceremony. 

Founded in 2006, The Headies initially began as the Hip Hop World Awards, created to recognise and celebrate outstanding achievements in the Nigerian music industry. Even though other award platforms like AMEN Awards and Fame Music Awards existed before The Headies, it quickly grew to become Nigeria’s premier music award ceremony, gaining significant relevance during the turn of the 2010s. This era coincided with the rise of seminal Afropop acts like Wizkid, Davido, Olamide, and Tiwa Savage, helping the ceremony evolve into the biggest night for music in the country.

A combination of seamless media integration, the highly coveted Next Rated Award, which came with a plaque and a brand-new SUV, and several iconic cultural moments – including the infamous squabble between Don Jazzy and Olamide, and Burna Boy’s 2013 exit from the show after Sean Tizzle was awarded the Next Rated prize – solidified the ceremony as the peak of Nigerian music recognition. 

 

However, despite its storied history, the ceremony has faced challenges in recent years that continue to undermine its prestige. Critiques of its declining production quality, controversial award categories, inconsistency and the relocation of the ceremony are just a few of the challenges currently facing The Headies. Paradoxically, the very globalisation of Afrobeats that Ayo Animashaun cites to justify moving the show to international venues in Atlanta and Toronto has accelerated its decline. This expansion has fostered a significant disconnect between the award body and A-listers who once viewed it as their primary platform for recognition.

As Afropop gained global exposure, our superstars began to find validation from prestigious international award bodies. This shift fundamentally altered the industry’s hierarchy of prestige; the allure of a Headies award began to diminish as the pursuit of accolades that offer broader global reach became more popular. The Headies, unfortunately, has struggled to evolve alongside this changing landscape, remaining mired in technical and production difficulties that alienate both its domestic audience and the stars who were once its most loyal supporters.

The forthcoming 18th edition perhaps presents another opportunity to rectify these past mistakes, bridge the growing gap between the show and its followers, and prove that it can still provide a meaningful stage for African music despite the lure of global award bodies. During the Big Announcement, Animashaun also revealed that the event will not abandon its local audience, as the Toronto ceremony will run simultaneously with a live watch party and selected award presentations in Lagos. Whether this move will truly “take home to the world” or further deepen the cynicism surrounding The Headies remains to be seen. 

Interview: Khaid Is Trying To Be Understood

Posted on by The Native

Seismic change rarely occurs in Afropop, but singer Khaid is proposing something approaching transcendence with his forthcoming album, ‘Rich & Wacko.’ But before ‘Rich & Wacko’ arrives, the singer is trying to prime his audience for the sound, an emotive blend of Fuji sonics and R&B’s candour that taps into his heritage and some of the sounds that shaped his artistic outlook. 

‘B4R&W,’ his four-track introduction to the  ‘Rich & Wacko’ world introduces a new edge to Khaid’s signature balmy style with particular highlights on songs like “Y26K” and “WACKO PLAY.” It is a deliberate gambit from the singer to prepare his audience for what is to come. “It is necessary for me to give them a preamble of what it’s going to sound like,” he told Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio.  “At the end of the day, it takes only understanding for them to accept the sound the way it is supposed to be taken. I don’t want people to stumble upon the album and start trying to understand the sound.”

This conversation has been edited for clarity. 

What artists inspire you?

When you listen to guys like Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, you listen to people like Michael Jackson, you listen to Prince, you can hear the vulnerability in their lyrics. Those are the people I listen to. Harry Styles and all those guys, those are the people I listen to, even if my songs don’t look like their songs. Because those guys are musically brilliant, they are not just musically good, they are musically brilliant. I feel like as an artist, that’s what you need. You need people to guide you, you need people to mentor you, people that are musically brilliant. Not just musically inclined or melodically good. 

Why are you dropping this project ahead of your album?

The world in general thrives off understanding, right? The world evolves because people understand how the world is. And for ‘Rich and Wacko,’ I didn’t just want to go too abstract into where my life, my sound, and my environment is. When you listen to ‘Rich and Wacko,’ it sounds like, “Okay, this is something I’ve almost never heard from a guy like this. And I don’t know how he was able to tap into that element.” It sounds different. So it is necessary for me to give them a preamble of what it’s going to sound like. At the end of the day, it takes only understanding for them to accept the sound the way it is supposed to be taken. I don’t want people to stumble upon the album and start trying to understand the sound. I want them to have a preamble before they listen to the song. So after that time, they’ve gathered a little understanding from the preamble, and it’s going to help them when they listen to the album. 

How do you approach putting music out?

I just do a lot myself. When I’m trying to put out music, I’m not just trying to put out music because it’s good. I try to see myself as the fans most times, because if I want to listen to an artist, I want to be able to understand that artist and his personality and where he’s coming from. It’s just like I’m trying to save the world. I’m trying to tell everybody I’m Jesus without proving miracles, or doing the necessary good deeds that Jesus did to show them that, okay, I’m this good guy, but I’m also the savior of the world, you feel me? So that’s all I’m just trying to do. I’m trying to let everybody know, you still got the old Khaid, but the old Khaid is evolving. I’m just trying to let the music take me. I don’t want to hold back and be like, “Oh, this is what I think people like about me.” I just want the music to speak for itself. The music in itself is like a statement. So, I got to make the human form of me become a statement. That’s why I have this preamble like, “Take this preamble so you can understand when the album comes.” That’s all I’m trying to do.

Where do you think you are at sonically?

Musically, with the tape, I’m trying to let people know that Wacko is almost everything. In my country, people take that as confusion. So, I’m trying to let people know that it’s not confusion, it’s just the ability to be versatile. When you are versatile, you can literally do anything, and don’t take it as confusion, like, oh, “I don’t know if this guy has a sound” or whatever. It’s music. Some people come like that, and by the grace of God, I come like that. The foundational Wacko sound is like a mix of Fuji and Hip-Hop. I like making love songs because it just takes away some trauma. So, I got to add that in whatever it is that I’m doing. It has to be a major component in whatever I’m doing. I’m super excited. I’m thrilled to see the misunderstanding before they understand. I’m thrilled to be in that moment of like people trying to understand. I’m super going to be happy when they finally understand. But I’m super excited for when they misunderstand it. Every great artist is misunderstood at first. So I’m just trying to see, and I’m super excited for how the outcome is going to be, because I got God guiding me. It’s like a vision. You know when these prophets see visions and they are like, “Yo, God says change your ways.” That’s how I see visions about the song too. I just let God do his thing. And that’s it.

How do you approach songwriting?

Everything comes from God, man. I never really try to put down lyrics or try to be the best lyrical writer. They keep saying I don’t got lyrics. So, I don’t even try to fight myself about it. Sometimes when I make some songs, it comes out like super not me. Like the lyrics come out super not me. That’s where I confirm that, “Okay, I think God is writing this song on my behalf.” So most of the songs are like that too.

VVS Lagos Return With “Love Is War”

Posted on by The Native

From the ever-evolving nucleus of Africa’s most experimental creative collective, VVS Lagos returns with “Love Is War,” the second single off their forthcoming ‘Descendants’ project. It is a record dissolving the fragile boundary between affection and adversity, softness and survival, intimacy and instinct, following the frenetic pace of “Unlimited,” the project’s first single. 

The new single pairs the genre-fluid precision of Minz and the deeply textured, spiritually grounded cadence of Wizard Chan, forging a record that feels less like a collaboration and more like a negotiation between heartbeats. 

 

Produced with deliberate restraint and atmospheric weight, “Love Is War” situates itself in a liminal sonic space where Afropop polish meets raw, South-South storytelling, and where romance is not a theme but a battlefield. Minz glides through the record with melodic clarity, offering a perspective shaped by longing, distance, and emotional calculus. Wizard Chan counters with his signature riverine cadence, grounding the record in a truth that feels both ancestral and immediate. 

Within the broader architecture of The Descendants, “Love Is War” represents the emotional counterweight to “Unlimited.” Where the first record projected outward ambition — Lagos to Atlanta, East to diaspora — this second release turns the lens inward, interrogating the cost of connection in a generation fluent in both vulnerability and detachment.  

Listen to “Love Is War” here. 

Interview: Efe Oraka Wants To Be True To Herself 

Posted on by Wale Oloworekende

Over a decade into a career that started when she was a child, Efe Oraka is still coming to terms with herself and how the wider public perceives her. After rising to fame for her inventive cover of Jon Bellion songs and Olamide refixes, she graduated to even-keeled dispatches on national pride and emotional angst that showed a growing range and intuitive understanding of self. 

As the years have passed, the singer’s artistic vision has grown exponentially, leading to pivots into soft Rock on 2024’s “BSTRD” and full-blown Afropop on 2025’s “LipGlo$$.” As she has grown older, the singer has also experienced the harder parts of life, dealing with immigration issues and homelessness. Still, music has always been a refuge for the singer. “ In a way my struggles have really shown me how resilient I am as an artist and as a person,” she says. “I threw myself into the music and used it as an avenue to find some sort of recourse.”

 

In May 2026, she released a ten-track project titled ‘Eferoghene,’ as a precursor to her forthcoming album, ‘Florence Dei.’ Per Oraka,  ‘Eferoghene’ marks a return to her truest self, delicately blending heartfelt confessionals with forthright music.  “It’s a mixtape that gives context into what kind of world I am trying to weave through the music,” she says. It’s an intricate body of work that dexterously melds honestly with aspirational zest with songs like “Back In Blood,” “High/Low,” and “Turnup444me” as highlights. 

Our conversation with the singer has been edited for clarity. 

How have you handled the transition from being a child star to being an adult musician?

It’s been a crazy journey. The funny thing is I didn’t even think of myself as a child star at the time. Someone referred to me as that last year and for the first time ever I was like, “Oh… wait.” I knew I was making waves and a lot of people were connecting to me but it was only when the ‘buzz’ around me started to die down that I was like, “Oh, where did the attention go?” And even then the feeling exacerbated when I would speak to people and they would refer to me as some sort of past glory. It’s been a deeply transformative journey to say the least because I’ve had to reconnect with myself multiple times and lean on my vision to afford me multiple chances to not only start again, but keep going. I think what marks my evolution is that I am no longer tied to only being one version of me. There’s no unified theory of Efe and I’m committed to following through with my soul and seeing where that goes.

How long have you been working on ‘Efeoreghene’?

In terms of conceptualizing and releasing it, last year December. I had come to Lagos to do a couple shows and being back in the thick of it, I was like, “hmm.” But in terms of the actual music, there’s music on there that has existed since 2020. My album, ‘Florence Dei,’ is dropping this year and when we were thinking about what a potential rollout could be, it was kind of obvious that there needed to be more music in circulation. It’s a mixtape that gives context into what kind of world I am trying to weave through the music. ‘Eferoghene’ serves as a return to self. An ode to giving oneself a chance and persisting even when all the odds are stacked against you. The songs that ended up on the mixtape were ones that were created in very specific times in my journey as both an artist and a producer. So yeah, they are very reflective of what you could potentially expect with the soundscape.

 

You’ve mentioned dealing with homelessness and instability on social media, did that provide inspiration for ‘Efeoreghene’?

Yes it definitely did. I got thrown into a situation I didn’t anticipate and it flipped my world on its head. The only thing that made sense to me at that moment was performing and releasing music. In a way my struggles have really shown me how resilient I am as an artist and as a person. I threw myself into the music and used it as an avenue to find some sort of recourse. Not really being sure of what was gonna happen to me made me more sure of the fact that I’m Efe Oraka. I think that level of ‘grief’ really made me more aware of my own presence. It was like I was fully in my body and my visceral reaction was to be an artist. very meta stuff.

What direction do you think you’re going towards in your career?

I think right now I’m just doing what feels the most authentic to me. I want to have an expansive catalogue that reflects the material and metaphysical information I keep gathering. I want my career to be big too. Grand even. I’m a global superstar. And I know I make music that everyone can listen to. that everyone should be listening too. So yeah, I’m moving towards the direction that affords me the most joy and coherence.

 

You said you have an album forthcoming, what’s the process of putting that together been like?

It’s been interesting. I thought I was done writing but I’ve been revisiting things. Finding meaning and new experiences and allowing myself to open up emotions I’ve been scared of creating from. I think I’m usually wary of being consumed but that process has to happen. I’ve been going back every now and then and tweaking things on the album, narrowing down a track list, recording more elements… the good stuff. I hope it’s a body of work that everyone truly takes the time to listen to. I’ve been saying my music is atmosphere-shifting. ‘Florence Dei’ is nothing short of that.

Listen to ‘Efeoreghene’ here.

These Rising Acts Could Take Over 2026 

Posted on by The Native

Every year, Afropop produces a new class of talented acts who move from the fringes of the conversation to its very center. The last couple of months have seen a few promising names position themselves for this conversation, aiming for bigger stages and a wider audience. As 2026 continues to unfold, these are the artists most likely to make that leap from promising prospects to genuine Afropop stars.

Danpapa GTA

Fusing a rebellious spirit with street Rap, meme-ready ad-libs and a bold online persona, Danpapa GTA is establishing a lane entirely his own. Early traction on short-form video platforms has helped amplify his catalogue. Channeling a modern Afrobeats spirit on projects like ‘Genz Kuti (Deluxe),’ his music targets the concrete realities of Lagos. The viral “Ikeja (No Go Thief)”—a cautionary Street-Pop anthem—proved his knack for writing heavy-rotation hooks that capture local subcultures perfectly. His fluid adaptability across the creative scene’s different pockets positions him perfectly to capture the mainstream from multiple angles this year. – Melony Akpoghene

 

Monochrome

Even though Monochrome started releasing music officially in early 2024, it wasn’t until the release of ‘+SWAGU° ’ in mid-2025 that he started gaining considerable traction. Tracks like “COMPUTER” and “MIA KHALIFA” gave him much-needed momentum that he carried into 2026. A series of sturdy singles this year, most notably the S1orDie-assisted “We 2 Fly,” has pushed his renown even further, placing him at the cusp of a major mainstream breakthrough. – Boluwatife Adeyemi

 

Kidd Carder

Melodically sharp and versatile, Kidd Carder has been scaling the Afropop underbelly for a minute. After dropping the well-received ‘Before I Blow’ EP earlier this year, his infectious single “Big Bum Bum” has garnered serious traction. Combined with the recent, buzzy release of “Come On,” the singer-rapper possesses all the necessary tools to stage a dominant takeover. – M.A.

 

NO11

The late 2025 release of NO11’s two-pack single “How FAR / SHIMA II” gave the young singer all the boost he needed for the new year. “How FAR” took off almost instantly in the new year, soundtracking thousands of social media posts, parties and gatherings. This surge in popularity established NO11’s reputation as an exciting rising act to watch. With the release of another party-starter in “TOO HOT” and a few other anticipated releases, the singer is firmly positioned as one of the year’s breakout talents. – B.A.

 

Amma

Nigerian singer and songwriter Amma has had a great year so far, thanks to her viral hit single, “I Love You,” a soulful rendition of a hopeless romantic’s musings. The single, which arrived in February, quickly became a sensation on TikTok and climbed the charts, garnering over 8 million streams on Spotify and proving that there is strong reception for her distinctive blend of R&B and Afropop. If she continues on this trajectory, Amma may well be on the cusp of mainstream stardom.  – Michelle Ejiro

 

SSSoundgawd

Producer-artist SSSoundgawd is steadily carving out a lane where he controls both sides of the booth. He first cut through with club-focused records like “YA STRATA,” but 2026 shifted the scale entirely after “Aura Salad” with Mavo caught fire on TikTok. The track’s restless mix of Amapiano bounce and playful lamba references shows a sharp instinct for making records that stick fast and move crowds even faster. He’s now sitting in that sweet spot between underground pressure and mainstream pull, with momentum clearly building in real time. – M.A.

 

Scottyolorin

Scottyolorin is a blistering force in the underground scene, but he has also garnered a fair amount of mainstream attention following his guest verse on Straffitti’s “TE WO” last year. While his sound is largely experimental, he maintains a fine balance with Afropop, giving it the potential to resonate with a wider audience over time. Songs like “MOLADE” and “FL STUDIO” have already amassed 1 million and 800,000 streams on Spotify respectively, suggesting that he is doing something right. With a little more refinement and the right breakthrough moment, he could be poised for even greater success. – M.E.

 

Zaylevelten

Straight out of the internet’s experimental corners, Zaylevelten has built an impressive, cult-like ecosystem across a dense run of projects. Following tape releases like 2025’s ‘then 1t g0t crazy’ and a smattering of singles this year, his 2026 momentum has reached a tipping point. His distinct, hyper-localised Trap flow is rapidly outgrowing the internet’s sub-genres and is set to see him break through into the mainstream. – M.A.

 

Kayode

Kayode has flirted with the mainstream on a number of occasions, most notably in 2021, when his viral “Live Forever” took over everyone’s FYPs. He’s had another go this year, perhaps his strongest attempt to capture the mainstream with his inventive samples of Yoruba folk classics. Both of his recent singles, “Aimoye” and “Ise Oluwa,” have been well received this year, most especially the former, and it would be interesting to see how he leverages the momentum those singles have afforded him. – B.A.

 

Elmah

Elmah is no stranger to mainstream attention. In 2023, she scored a viral moment with “New Boy In Town,” swiftly amassing a loyal following. However, she slipped off the radar for a while before making a remarkable comeback on Omah Lay’s sophomore album, Clarity of Mind, as its only featured artist. Her airy delivery on “Coping Mechanism” reinforced her star power, redirecting attention towards her and building anticipation for what comes next. The right move could easily set her a million miles apart from her peers this year. – M.E.

Svndaypack and Damitothewrld Are Deconstructing The Motions of Romance On  ‘Paper Airplanes’

Posted on by Folake Ajao

To tell the story faithfully, ‘Paper Airplanes’ is the product of two years, three cities, and people whose history runs deeper than any single project. Don Ozi and Enjahn, the producer duo behind Svndaypack, and Damitothewrld are not new to each other. Don Ozi and Dami are cousins. Enjahn met Don Ozi at a boarding school in Ibadan where they ended up in the same dormitory and bonded over Chelsea, Odunsi (The Engine), and an open FL Studio session. By 2021 they had a name, borrowed from the weekly food parcel every student at  Scripture Pasture Christian Center (SPCC)’s Lifeforte school looked forward to on Sundays. All three grew up on  gospel music, and that foundation is audible on this EP.

The six tracks that make up ‘Paper Airplanes’ sit within the Soul and R&B canon, and they do so with a clarity of intention that is rare for a debut project. There is no hedging, no attempt to split the difference between what these three make naturally and what the current moment rewards commercially. The EP opens with “Paper Planes,” a statement of tone more than anything else, unhurried and warm, establishing the emotional register that everything after it will operate in. It is the kind of opening track that tells you immediately whether this is music for you, and it does not try to convince anyone who needs convincing.

 

“Superhuman” and “Empires” carry the EP’s conceptual weight. Dami writes from angles most contemporary love songs do not bother with. “Superhuman” sits with the particular exhaustion of someone who has given everything and still comes up short, not in ambition, but in love. “Empires” asks what it means to build something that lasts when the person you wanted to build it with is gone. These are not abstract ideas dressed up in metaphor. They are specific feelings rendered with precision, and the production holds them without overcrowding them. “Kenzilla” exists on the same plane, deliberate and unhurried, the kind of track that reveals itself across repeated listens rather than announcing itself immediately.

On “Winnerman,”the EP’s central tension becomes most explicit. The idea of a man who cannot hold love despite everything external going right is not a new concept, but the way Dami approaches it makes it feel freshly observed. There is no self-pity in the writing, and no resolution either. The song sits with the contradiction and leaves it there. Enjahn and Don Ozi build the production around that stillness, resisting the impulse to give the track a lift it has not earned. “Typical love songs have the same emotions,” Enjahn says. “He came at it from a different perspective.” That restraint is a production decision as much as a songwriting one, and it is consistent across the whole project.

“Drama” closes the EP and is its most immediate track, the Afropop cadence in its production, the only moment across six songs that nods toward what is commercially dominant right now. Placed at the end, it functions less as a concession and more as a reminder of where these three come from. The Nigerian SoundCloud generation that shaped Don Ozi and Enjahn’s early tastes is present in “Drama” in a way it is not elsewhere on the project, and hearing it last rather than first means it lands as context rather than as an introduction.

The emotional depth on the ‘Paper Airplanes’ belongs almost exclusively to Damitothewrld. He wrote it about real messages he composed and never sent, and the image he reached for was folding them into paper airplanes and letting them go toward someone he could no longer reach. “That’s a true message, to somebody,” he explains. “I hope they know.”  Enjahn puts it plainly: “Almost everyone has that one person you wish you could reach out to but you know you can’t.” 

The EP came together properly during a camp in Lagos roughly two years ago, the first time all three were in the same room with the intention of making something concrete. “That was the inception of songs like ‘Drama’ and ‘Winnerman,’” Don Ozi says. “Those came naturally.” Everything else spilled over  from there, shaped by the distance between three cities and the particular discipline of people who have been making music together long enough to know when to push and when to leave something alone.

 

The production language Enjahn and Don Ozi have built across nearly a decade is central to why the EP sounds the way it does. Enjahn leans toward harmony and texture with Robert Glasper and Mike Dean as reference points. Don Ozi works from groove and rhythm, drawing on sounds coming out of South Africa and Chicago. In practice, those roles are fluid. “There are songs where Don Ozi came with the melodies first and we built off that,” Enjahn says.

Svndaypack has never chased popular sonics, and ‘Paper Airplanes’ is not intended to  start doing so now. “We have our formula of soul and bounce,” Enjahn says. That formula holds across all six tracks, and this EP is its fullest realisation to date. What follows is already in motion. A debut album is approximately 30 percent complete, with more music featuring Dami in the vault. “Between now and next year, there are a lot of cool collaborations coming,” Enjahn says. “We’re trying to bring everybody into our world.

Listen to ‘Paper Airplanes’ here.

Interview: TxC Are Paying Homage To The Streets 

Posted on by The Native

If the success of their hit cross-continental collab, “Nakupenda,” had you thinking that South African DJ duo, TxC, had forgotten their roots, their new extended play, ‘Strata,’ is soul-infused dedication to the pulse of their motherland. “It’s very important for us to just always touch base back here and make everybody know that as much as we’re outside and we travel and we do all these amazing things in the world, home is always where the heart is.,” they told Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio. 

Boasting contributions from some of the best vocalists, songwriters, and producers out of the Rainbow Nation, TxC’s latest project continues their dalliance with Amapiano, putting a modernist spin on the popular sound without diluting its essence. “We have so much talent out there and I want people to just see that the streets of South Africa are popping,” they affirm. “If you listen to the project as a whole, you’ll see the bigger picture of it all and how it all flows in together. It’s a good time, it’s a feel good EP. If you just want to relax, let your hair down and just have a good time, this is the EP for you.”

This conversation has been edited for clarity. 

What’s the significance of ‘Strata‘?

Strata, derives from the streets.  The streets of South Africa that’s got us the way we are today. The streets where Amapiano started, you know, Amapiano started in the streets within the townships and it’s fully indulged within the culture of South Africa. So that’s why with this current EP, it’s kind of like a homage back home for everybody that supported us, for everybody that’s got us the way we are today. We had to do something for the streets, for our people of South Africa.

What’s the importance of keys?

Keys are so important [for our music], it just gives the soul and the depth to it. It’s something that we always try to make prevalent and out there to make sure that our keys are present. Coming from our hit “Nakupenda” that was more of us collaborating with outside, now we’ve kept everything at home internally with all the artists and the producers, vocalists, everybody that’s worked on this is everybody from the from home, from the streets. So, this EP really means a lot to us.

How do you stay true to your South African roots?

We’re just capturing all these moments and putting it all to make a bigger picture but not forgetting home. It’s very important for us to just always touch base back here and make everybody know that as much as we’re outside and we travel and we do all these amazing things in the world, home is always where the heart is. So, we’ll always come back and do something for our people at home so that the world will feel like the new audiences that come and listen to our sound. They get to hear what’s happening in South Africa, these are the authentic sounds.

What’s it like to see the reception towards you across the world?

When “Nakupenda” plays outside or we see videos,  we always still get shocked and we’re always still so grateful like God has really blessed us like this. God has deemed us worthy of all of this because obviously as an artist you always want the best for your music and for your sound but then to see it actually going that far, it’s just crazy. The way the audience actually relates to it–because obviously with our music, we keep the South African language in there so that we don’t draw away from the essence of the actual sound–and to see people actually singing the lyrics and actually enjoying it, and I’m like, do you guys understand what she was saying? But the vibe’s always there and you feel the love in the sound. 

How did you make “Mude Mude?”

“Mude Mude” is an amazing listen, all the songs on there are amazing, all six tracks. But “Mude Mude” is like that’s the one. So, with that one, we had studio camps at home because we were in the process of making the EP. We obviously sat down, discussed who we’re going to get on, how we’re going to make it work and everything just happened so naturally with my sister actually spearheading the studio sessions and getting everybody together. Everything happened so naturally, the energy was just there and it was so easy to get a hold of whoever we wanted on the tracks. We called Ch’cco and Uncool and we’re like, “Guys, please, we want to drop this,” and obviously coming from a “Nakupenda,” they were like, “Are you sure like what’s the plan, you know, everybody wants to know like what are you actually getting up to.” Everything there happened so well, the energy in the studio was amazing. 

How did you find your sound?

[It was] very stressful because COVID. We just learned how to DJ so we went to a DJ school, we were in Cape Town at the time.  Lockdown happened like a month or two after we acquired this new skill. So, we’ve learned how to DJ, we are ready to go out there and show the world but where do we showcase our talents? Like how will people actually know what we are about? At that time, Amapiano was also just reaching its peak because we were also trying to figure out which genre we were actually going to go into because we wanted to stick to a specific genre at the time. Amapiano was new, we were so ready to rock but there was no way for us to rock. So, we went online. We posted on YouTube, on TikTok and then the videos just started blowing from there. It was a lot of hard work to go into because we relocated when the lockdown was a bit relaxed. The rules were a bit more relaxed, we were like, “Okay, let’s relocate to Johannesburg and just try and figure it out from there.” We didn’t know anyone this side, we had no team, we had nobody. Amongst the two of us, we just figured it out and then we came to Jo’burg, met a couple of people along the way. At one point, we pretended to be our own managers when we would get bookings because we had a dream and there was nothing and nobody that was going to stop us, you know. We had the support of our families and with God on our side, we were just like we’re going to figure this out and if this is for us, God will make it happen. 

What do you want people to take away from listening to the EP?

I just hope that when people listen to this EP, they understand the amount of talent that we have in our country. South Africa is so full of talent; songwriters, producers, vocalists, and artists in general. We have so much talent out there and I want people to just see that the streets of South Africa are popping. The streets of South Africa know exactly what a good song is. If you listen to the project as a whole, you’ll see the bigger picture of it all and how it all flows in together. It’s a good time, it’s a feel good EP. If you just want to relax, let your hair down and just have a good time, this is the EP for you.

What does the rest of 2026 hold for you?

We are doing bigger shows, more shows this year internationally and locally. We’re actually going to do our production as well this year. We’re taking our stage production to a bigger scale. We’re just investing so much more into our music and also for our collaborations, you know, locally and international collaborations that we just want to be out there so people can see what we are about.

Angel Maxine is Using Her Music to Protect Queer Lives in Ghana

Posted on by Melony Akpoghene

In 2021, Angel Maxine, alongside Sister Deborah and Wanlov the Kubolor, shared “Wo Fie,” a song whose title translates from Twi to “Your Home.” Released as a message of love, the song insists on queer people’s right to community and belonging. “I wanted the song to remind people that they are worthy of love, dignity and community, no matter what society tells them,” she tells NATIVE Mag. Five years later, “Wo Fie” has become the definitive anthem for Pride Month on the continent and beyond.

As the country’s first openly trans artist, Angel Maxine faces significant institutional risks simply for existing, yet she continues to show up. For years, Ghana’s state-sanctioned hostility has persistently closed in on the local LGBTQ+ community. Homosexuality continues to be criminalised under a colonial-era law that refers to “unnatural carnal knowledge.” In recent years, however, the situation has grown more intense with the introduction of the Human Sexual Rights and Family Values Bill. First brought forward in 2021 after an LGBTQ+ community centre in Accra was shut down, the bill has triggered harsher political pressure on queer people. 

 

Just last month, a new anti-LGBTQ+ bill passed in Parliament, increasing that pressure by criminalising parts of identity and speech, introducing prison sentences for simply identifying as trans or queer, intentional cross-dressing, and up to ten years for advocacy, funding, or reporting favourably on LGBTQ+ issues. For queer Ghanaians, it has always been a matter of life and death, and this bill fans the flames, showing just how oppressive the Ghanaian government is willing to be. For Angel Maxine, the fallout is devastatingly real. Her livelihood is being strangled, from lost brand sponsorships to cancelled opportunities, and her creative space has further narrowed, as many allies are now afraid to show public support.

Africans exist globally as the radical Other within systems shaped by race and colonialism, which is why it is incoherent that similar logics of exclusion are reproduced internally against LGBTQ+ Africans. Because queerness is often perceived as aberrant and transgressive, an anomaly outside the category of the Human, African homophobes are not just deeply hostile towards it but actively paranoid. This is the precise nuance that drives “Wo Fie.”

The track is a brilliant trap for bigotry, demystifying the myth of the sinister Other imagined as a supposed abstract sexual contagion existing somewhere out there. It makes a simple point: you hate LGBTQ+ people and you think queerness is deviant and frightening, but your “hairdresser could be LGBTQ… / your tailor could be LGBTQ… / your doctor could be LGBTQ / your bestie could be LGBTQ.” Your loved ones, the familiar faces around you, the people who share in the quotidian routines of your life, could be LGBTQ+. And while you should not only care about the LGBTQ+ people you happen to know personally, charity does begin at home.

 

In addition to contributing her art to support and protect the lives of the LGBTQ+ community in Ghana, Angel Maxine has been carrying out vital on-the-ground activist work in an effort to ensure that Ghana’s legislative chokehold fails in its primary objective of stifling the presence of the queer community.

We spoke with her about the realities of living and creating as a Ghanaian trans artist, the implications of the proposed anti-LGBTQ+ bill, and the sources of hope that sustain her vision.

“Wo Fie” has become a song that many LGBTQ+ Africans deeply connect with. When you first made it, did you imagine it would take on this kind of meaning?

When I created “Wo Fie,” I knew it carried an important message, but I never imagined it would grow into what it has become today. At the time, I was simply speaking from my own experiences and the experiences of many LGBTQ+ people around me who were longing for acceptance, safety and a sense of belonging.

The title “Wo Fie,” which means “Your Home,” came from the idea that every queer person comes from a home and deserves a place where they can exist freely and be loved for who they are. For many queer people across Africa, home is often complicated. Sometimes, the very spaces that should provide comfort become places of rejection. I wanted the song to remind people that they are worthy of love, dignity and community, no matter what society tells them.

A huge part of the song’s impact also came from the involvement of Wanlov the Kubolor and Sister Deborah. Their participation made the song into something bigger than my personal story. They understood the importance of creating a message of inclusion and solidarity. At a time when many public figures were afraid to openly support LGBTQ+ people, they chose courage. Their allyship gave the song even more strength and helped it reach audiences that may not have otherwise engaged with its message.

How does it feel knowing that many people across continents love the song and find it affirming?

Seeing people from Ghana, Kenya, Uganda, Nigeria, South Africa, the USA, Europe and beyond connect with “Wo Fie” has been one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. It showed me that our stories are interconnected and that music can create a sense of home even across borders. It is deeply emotional and humbling. As an artist, you always hope your work will touch people, but there is something extraordinary about hearing someone say a song helped them survive a difficult period in their life. I’ve received messages from people who said “Wo Fie” helped them through family rejection, isolation, depression and moments when they felt completely alone. For many LGBTQ+ Africans, simply being seen can be life-changing. We grow up hearing that we do not belong, that we should hide, or that our existence is somehow wrong. Knowing that “Wo Fie” has become a source of comfort and affirmation tells me the song is doing exactly what I hoped it would do: it is reminding people that they are not alone. I am also grateful that the song brought together queer people and allies. The support from Wanlov and Sister Deborah showed that allyship is powerful. It demonstrated that standing up for human dignity is not only the responsibility of LGBTQ+ people, but of everyone who believes in justice and compassion.

Ghana has seen intense struggles around LGBTQ+ rights in recent years. How has that affected you?

The climate has affected me profoundly, both personally and creatively. As Ghana’s first openly trans musician, I carry a visibility that comes with both opportunities and challenges. The increasing hostility around LGBTQ+ issues has not only affected how people perceive me, but also my ability to sustain my work as an artist. There have been collaborations that never materialised because people were afraid of being associated with me. Opportunities have disappeared once organisers or brands learned who I am and what I stand for. There are people who privately support me and enjoy my work but are unwilling to do so publicly because they fear backlash. That reality can be incredibly frustrating, because it means that sometimes the barriers I face have nothing to do with my talent, professionalism or the quality of my work.

Financially and professionally, it has made the journey much harder. Like many independent artists, I rely on collaborations, bookings, sponsorships and public support to sustain my career. When an entire political and social climate encourages people to distance themselves from you, it inevitably affects your ability to grow and thrive as an artist. Personally, it can be exhausting to constantly see your identity turned into a political debate. There are moments when it feels like people spend more time discussing my existence than engaging with my music and artistry.

At the same time, these experiences have shaped my creativity. They have made me more intentional about the stories I tell and the legacy I want to leave behind. My music has become a space where I can document our realities, celebrate our resilience and remind people that queer Africans deserve not only rights and protection, but also joy, love, success and the freedom to dream. So while this climate has created obstacles, it has also deepened my commitment to using art as a tool for visibility, truth and change.

How do you think music can help foster empathy?

For me, music becomes even more important in those moments because it can reach people in ways that politics and public debate often cannot. I always say music does not know gender, religion, race, nationality or political affiliation. It speaks to emotion, and emotion is something we all share as human beings. When conversations become hostile, people can lose sight of each other’s humanity and begin to see labels instead of people. But a song can remind us that behind every headline, debate or political argument are real human beings with real feelings, dreams, struggles and hopes.

As an artist, I’ve seen how music can bring together people who may disagree on many things. Someone might not engage with activism or human rights discussions, but they will listen to a song. Through music, they can connect with stories of love, heartbreak, resilience, joy and survival. That connection can open the door to empathy and understanding.

For LGBTQ+ people especially, music can also be a source of comfort. There have been times when songs made me feel less alone, and I’ve had people tell me my music has done the same for them. Knowing that a song can give someone hope, strength or simply make them feel seen is incredibly powerful. So in hostile times, I see music as a bridge. It brings people together, creates space for empathy and reminds us of our shared humanity. For me, it is both a refuge and a form of resistance.

The new anti-LGBTQ+ bill has raised concern in Ghana and beyond. What are your main concerns about what it could mean for queer Ghanaians?

My biggest concern is the fear this bill creates and the message it sends to LGBTQ+ people in Ghana. The danger goes beyond the legal aspects of the bill. Laws influence how people treat one another. When political leaders and public figures repeatedly portray LGBTQ+ people as a problem or a threat, it can encourage discrimination, harassment, violence and rejection within families and communities.

I am particularly worried about young queer people. Many are already trying to understand who they are in environments where they may not feel accepted or safe. When they hear messages that tell them they do not belong or that their existence is something to be feared, it can have a devastating impact on their mental health, confidence and sense of self-worth.

I am also concerned about how this climate affects everyday life. It can make people afraid to seek healthcare, access support services, express themselves or simply live openly and honestly. It pushes people further into isolation and fear.

Most importantly, I worry that we are losing sight of our shared humanity. LGBTQ+ people are not strangers; we are Ghanaians. We are artists, students, workers, parents, siblings, friends and neighbours. We contribute to our communities just like everyone else. My hope is that people look beyond politics and remember these conversations affect real human beings whose only wish is to live with dignity, safety and equal opportunity.

What’s keeping you going in the fight for LGBTQ+ rights in Ghana and across Africa?

What gives me hope is people. I see young Africans questioning harmful narratives and choosing compassion over fear. I see parents learning to accept their children. I see activists, artists, lawyers, journalists, faith leaders and allies continuing to stand up for human dignity despite immense pressure.

I also see queer Africans refusing to disappear. For generations, people have tried to tell us that we do not belong here, yet we are still here. We are creating art, building families, leading movements, supporting one another and contributing to our communities.

Change rarely happens overnight. History shows us that progress is often slow, difficult and sometimes painful, but it also shows that people who fight for justice can transform societies. My hope comes from knowing that every conversation, every act of courage, every song and every person who chooses love over hatred moves us closer to a future where LGBTQ+ Africans can live openly, safely and proudly. And I believe that the future is possible, not because it is guaranteed, but because so many people are working every day to make it real.

Support Angel Maxine by contributing to her GoFundMe here.

How Rigo Kamp Got To ‘KAMP STEREO’

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

Rigo Kamp is a consummate live performer. Long before the rising singer put out his official debut single, he had been cutting his teeth in the Lagos underground live music circuit, acquainting himself to a sizable audience that bought into his soulful artistry and magnetic stage presence. This solid foundation positioned him as a formidable new voice in the scene, where his reputation as an engaging entertainer preceded his digital discography.

In December of 2023, he made his debut on the NATIVELAND stage, giving a good account of himself with a couple of covers and most notably a rendition of the then unreleased “Summer,” his debut single that formally introduced him as a star in the making. About three months later, he turned heads again at the inaugural edition of uNder LIVE, a showcase dedicated to spotlighting acts who are pushing the envelope of their craft and are on the cusp of a breakthrough. 

 

The journey through these different stages and intimate venues across the city served as a training ground that allowed him to refine his vocal prowess and develop a unique connection with listeners before his official debut release “Summer/Morning Sun,” finally arrived in October 2024. 

Unsurprisingly, both singles lend themselves to a live-instrumentation-heavy interpretation, which has become a hallmark of his artistic identity. “Summer” was immediately supported with an official performance video, a crisp and neatly directed visual that brought the song to life and also showcased Rigo in his element, a mic in hand serenading whoever cares to listen. 

Additional live renditions of both “Summer” and “Morning Sun,” delivered at venues like the Vinyl Factory in London and Waf Skate Park for Spotify’s Skate Noise event, further solidified his reputation as a unique artist with an unwavering dedication to live performances. By April 2025, he unveiled his self-titled debut project, a compelling body of work that included the previously released “Summer” and “Morning Sun” alongside fresh tracks like the vibrant, Juju-influenced opener “Marathon,” “Miss You,” and “Move On.”

 

Shortly after the project’s release, he curated his first headline performance at Amah Studios, where he transported his audience to his eclectic and colourful world, once again showcasing he’s just as captivating live as he is in his studio recordings.

Now, over a year after his first headline show, the singer is back with KAMP STEREO, a live music residency that’s set to begin on June 6, and expected to run till the end of the year. In a recent Instagram post announcing the residency, the singer revealed that he’d been “locked away for the first half of this year working on bringing this idea to life,” emphasizing his commitment to evolving the live music experience.

KAMP STEREO began with ‘Breathe,’ the first act of the six-month-long residency that will be held at 16/16 in Victoria Island. “Come down if you want to hear new music, presented in a way you’ve never seen it before,” he adds in his announcement, inviting his audience to witness the next chapter of his artistry in an intimate setting designed to showcase his growth, soulful sound and magnetic stage presence.

Emo Grae’s ‘Grae’s Anatomy’  Is A Mosaic Of Varying Emotions 

Posted on by Michelle Ejiro

Emo Grae has released his first full-length project, ‘Grae’s Anatomy,’  a 7-track EP that marks the beginning  of a new chapter in the singer’s six-year-old career that sprouted in 2020 following his release of “Selense” and a record deal with Marlian Music that has now ended, nudging him to independently reinvent himself. 

Since inception, one of his distinctive qualities has been his ability to brilliantly mirror his emotions through his sound and he does it again on ‘Grae’s Anatomy,’ laying bare his vulnerable state of mind.

 

The EP opens with “Youth,” a deeply introspective record centred on youthful exuberance and the lifelong aftermath of certain decisions. Songs like “Fool for You,” “Combine” and the BhadBoi OML-assisted “Gravity” embody  his unfettered lover boy side, a part of him he’s always explored throughout this career. 

Before the arrival of this EP, Grae had slowly introduced the era by reconnecting with old friends. Towards the tail end of 2025, he  rekindled his chemistry with Bnxn on “Your Type,” to build on their previous joint effort on “0903,” a hit song central to Emo Grae’s story.  This year he tapped Zinoleesky, his  former label mate for a guest verse on “LOL.” 

Emo Grae is attune with his emotions throughout the 17 minutes runtime of ‘Grae’s Anatomy.’ He offers an immersive perspective into the matters plaguing his mind and he does it honestly, without restraint, inviting listeners to experience his evolution and rediscovery to self. 

Listen to ‘Grae’s Anatomy‘ here. 

Interview: Pheelz Welcomes You To ‘A Rii Set’ 

Posted on by The Native

Even when he was contributing to the ascension of YBNl as one of Nigeria’s most renowned record label, Pheelz was operating beyond his core duties as a record producer, often offering songwriting direction and conceptual direction for some of the records that helped shape the de rigeur YBNL sound. On his own, Pheelz has become one of Afropop’s most well-regarded acts since the success of 2022’s “Finesse” with BNXN. His latest project, ‘A Rii Set,’ hinges on a full integration of his disparate influences, merging the flamboyant showmanship of Pheelz with the technical proficiency of Rii the super-producer. 

“I feel like I’ve gone through a defining moment in my life and I feel like the music interprets that as well,” Pheelz said in an interview with Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio. In some respects, ‘A Rii Set’ sounds like a reckoning with self that has been a while in the making. From the self-affirmation of “I’M OK” to the propulsive jamming of “DIRTY DIANA RHYTHM” and the nostalgia-inducing “GONGO ASO,” Pheelz treats the music as an outlet for self-expression. “I feel like ‘A Rii Set’ is a direct representation of my internal emotions,” he admits. 

This interview has been edited for clarity. 

How are you feeling about the new release?

It feels good, no pun intended. It feels really, really good. I’m grateful. I feel like I’ve gone through a defining moment in my life and I feel like the music interprets that as well. I’m grateful to God, grateful to the fans for sticking with me, grateful to the media, grateful to Apple for always showing support and love. I don’t take anything lightly or for granted.

You started in the choir in your church?

That was honestly my first introduction to music. I was a five-year-old kid and I just stumbled into the church, the adult church actually, during the moments where worship was going on and I saw in real time how music can control emotions and elevate people out of their worries and anxiety and fear. So, I saw that in real time and that was what got me attracted to music because I’m like, I want to be able to do this. I want the skill to be able to do this because I like how this makes me feel. From a very young age, I understood the power that music has to raise vibrations and the importance of that in human life. It’s okay to sing about fancy cars and girls and all that but sometimes we need to understand the spiritual power that is music and how frequency and sound literally raises vibrations and how vibrations create reality and how it’s important to use that workflow as an artist to touch people’s lives.

What’s your relationship with your father?

To be honest, my father didn’t believe it at first and I love him. He didn’t believe it at first because my father is a preacher. When a pastor’s kid says he wants to do music, especially secular music, it’s frowned upon. He told me he had a vision because he has a gift for dreaming and seeing visions. [In the] vision that there were angels surrounding me and the angels came to him, and they’re like, you have to let this kid go because we got this kid, we’ll protect him. This is his mission, this is his path. Let it be.

How did you meet Olamide?

Around that time, Olamide had a friend called Maye Hunta that happened to be an artist. Maye Hunta had a song back then called “Ekaette” that was big in Africa. So, Maye Hunta would come to my dad for counseling as a preacher, just for advice and like mentorship. At that time, I had already been tinkering around with my brother’s computer on FruityLoops. So, I had already made beats and songs and written songs for church and church programs. I had all that burnt onto a CD.  When Maye Hunta came for one of his counseling sessions with my dad, I blocked him on his way out and I was like, “Yo, big bro, I’m a producer and I also sing on the side as well, do you want to listen to some of the stuff I got?” He was like,”Yeah.” I gave him the CD and I forgot about it. Fast forward a couple months down the line, he had played it for ID Cabasa and ID Cabasa was looking for an intern at the time. So, ID Cabasa asked if I could be an intern. After fighting with my dad over and over and then the angels literally intervening,  my dad let me go for the internship. It was in that internship I met Olamide. Olamide and I became friends and brothers and we’ve been working since that time. 

How did “I’M OK” with Tiwa Savage come about?

It’s my mantra that I’m sharing with the world because that’s what I tell myself anytime I go through crazy stuff and I believe in the power of the tongue and the power of positive affirmations. I strongly believe that if you say something over and over, it affects your feelings and that creates your reality of being okay. So, “I’M OK” is showing the world what works for me and hoping it works for them as well because if you put positive affirmation onto the frequency that is music, it becomes really powerful. That was my idea behind just repeating I’m okay, I’m alright over and over so people can do that as well and feel okay. The song literally raises your vibration if you listen to it.

What was the inspiration for the production on “DIRTY DIANA RHYTHM?”

I feel like ‘A Rii Set’ is a direct representation of my internal emotions. Dirty Diana is my guitar. It’s a musical instrument that I play. I call her Dirty Diana. “DIRTY DIANA RHYTHM” is just her just being herself. We make love, that’s what we do, Dirty Diana and I. We invite our fans to listen while we make love but Dirty Diana is my guitar. I perform with Dirty Diana, I make music with Dirty Diana. There’s a song called “Jamming” that dropped last year that has the phrase “Dirty Diana, bami ba won soro” and I play Dirty Diana and that one has been going crazy on TikTok for like months. So, Dirty Diana is my musical instrument, she’s my baby and another way I express myself through.

What was the intent behind the live performance elements of the EP?

There are really no music videos, it’s all live performances. It’s all live because I really want to invite my fans and whoever wants to listen into that world of actual true live performance art. I feel like that is missing, especially in the Afrobeats space. I feel like we need a lot more of that.

How did you make “Ride or Die” with Ami Faku?

That’s my friend. I respect Ami Faku so much, I’ve respected Ami Faku for so long. Working with her on this project means the world to me, she’s amazing and she brought so much light to that song. I’m so grateful for “Ride or Die.” man. I feel like it will be one of the fans’ special. I feel like there’s a very quiet power that Ami has in her voice, like she doesn’t stress when she sings, but in that meekness, there’s strong power. That’s what I’ve always felt from all her songs that I’ve listened to. When I was making “Ride or Die,” I was like, “Yeah, this would go crazy if Ami Faku gets on it,” because I could hear her on the song. She’s such an amazing vocalist and artist and even more amazing in person. Shout out to Ami Faku, man. My love and light to her wherever she is. She’s incredible. She blessed me with the record.

What did working with so many artists teach you?

It taught me that I’m amazing, plain and simple; that I am incredible at what I do, that God has blessed me with incredible and impeccable talent. The world deserves to hear me and I deserve to be heard by the world and I will be heard by the world. It just taught me that music is my calling and it’s what I do best. Yes, there’s the business side of things, but it has also taught me the spiritual side of music. I feel like as artists, we really forget the responsibility we have as musicians to make music. It is really a gift and even more than a gift, it is an anointing. I sound like my dad now, but I can’t help it. When we make it in the music industry, we forget the spirituality that music is. We are making something out of thin air, literally. It is not a product. It is not like an iPhone where you  put chips together. You’re literally tapping from the divine source of creativity. We cannot forget that. Yes, we can make money with it; sell and buy and create an industry from it, but at the root of it, I believe we should not forget that this is a spiritual activity. I feel like life is reminding me about that every day the more I work with these big names. It reminds me every time that yes, this is a spiritual activity.

Rigo Kamp is launching a live music residency in Lagos this weekend

Posted on by Michelle Ejiro

Native Records singer, Rigo Kamp, is constantly seeking new adventures that uniquely set him apart from the pack. His zest for exploration and reinvention is the catalyst for his next quest: a six-month-long live music residency poised to earmark a new era in his career. Since his eponymous debut project in 2025, he has established himself as one of the leading voices operating in West Africa’s freewheeling Alte scene. This acclaim stems from his ingenious approach to songwriting, delivery, performance and his overall artistic impression. 

 

Moving beyond that era, Rigo Kamp has dedicated the past months in 2026 neck-deep in the studio, working on new music and refining his art. KAMP STEREO is his offering as a confluence of his authenticity and experimental approach to his work. For him, it is a way to expand the scope of African music and showcase the slew of talented artists emerging from Lagos. “It will usher in a fresh perspective to music from this side of the world,” he says. “Something fresh is happening in Lagos, you don’t just know it yet. Generational artists are emerging!”

KAMP STEREO will begin on June 6, 2026, at 16/16 Victoria Island, with “Breathe” setting the stage for what’s to come over the next six months.  Rigo describes the song as a multilayered record aimed to immerse listeners in the present and dispel their worries.  Speaking on the collective vision for the residency,  Kamp says it isn’t just about the music but the unforgettable emotions he plans to evoke in the audience, “I want it to be an experience. A soulful, tasteful, edgy, and memorable one, filled with passion and raw energy.” 

Mr P Is Candid About Attraction’s Hold On “I Can’t Look Away”

Posted on by The Native

The history of Afropop is replete with songs about beauty as well as songs about the kind of beauty that completely disrupts your focus. On his latest single, “I Can’t Look Away,” Nigerian music icon Mr. P captures that exact feeling with effortless charm, infectious melodies, and a groove designed for movement. 

Built on pulsating Afropop rhythms and playful lyricism, “I Can’t Look Away” is a celebration of irresistible attraction. It tells the story of a woman whose presence commands attention wherever she goes, so captivating that looking away becomes almost impossible. From the first verse to the final chorus, Mr. P leans into admiration, desire, and the exhilarating confusion that comes with being completely captivated by someone.  

 

The record arrives as another reminder of Mr. P’s enduring ability to create music that connects instantly with audiences. With its catchy refrain, dance-ready production, and relatable theme, “I Can’t Look Away” combines the simplicity of a classic love anthem with the vibrant energy of contemporary African Pop music.  

Long regarded as one of Africa’s most celebrated entertainers, Mr P is renowned for his contributions to the global rise of Afropop. Rising to prominence as one half of the iconic duo P-Square, he helped shape an era of Afropop, delivering numerous chart-topping records, sold-out tours, and unforgettable performances that established the group as one of the continent’s most successful musical exports. 

His acclaimed  solo debut album, The Prodigal, showcased his versatility and featured collaborations with some of Africa’s biggest stars, including. With the release of “I Can’t Look Away,” he’s gearing up for his solo sophomore album. 

Listen to  “I Can’t Look Away” here.  

SEUN KUTI & EGYPT 80 UNITE WITH TOM MORELLO  FOR CRITIQUE OF SYSTEMIC OPPRESSION ON “NA DEM”

Posted on by The Native

Afrobeat star, Seun Kuti, and his Egypt 80 band have released their new single “Na Dem,” featuring Rock & Roll and Metal Hall of Fame Inductee Tom Morello. Originally a freestyle made during a Coachella set, clips shared of the performances went viral, becoming one of the most talked-about moments in Seun Kuti’s live set. This official release reimagines the track with a full studio arrangement and the unmistakable guitar work of Morello.

 

“Na Dem” is an uncompromising critique of those who profit from poverty and systemic inequality. Without softening its message, the record confronts politicians’ corruption, abuse of power, and the machinery that fuels oppression. “I strongly wanted to collaborate with Tom Morello because he represents the ultimate expression of protest music,” Seun Kuti says. “Beyond any musical genre, we need artists like him. Just as my father did in the past and I do now, we need to convey messages that make listeners reflect.”

The single pulls together a league of extraordinary talent and was recorded at the prestigious Metropolis Studios, with production from Femi Koleoso of Ezra Collective, mixing by Riley MacIntyre and mastering by Stuart Hawkes. Seun Kuti & Egypt 80 are currently on a world tour that began on 7 May 2026 in Barcelona. The band is travelling through the Philippines, Australia, and New Zealand. Two landmark shows are scheduled in the US this Autumn. ‘My Life in Movement’ on 9 October 2026, at The Regent Theatre in Los Angeles, and 14 October 2026, at Webster Hall in New York.

Listen to “Na Dem” here. 

Magicsticks Is Still Reimagining Afropop 

Posted on by Michelle Ejiro

For Magicsticks, music was preordained and an inevitable part of his destiny, “All my life, I’ve never really been interested in anything else,” he warmly says over a Zoom call on a sunny Wednesday in May, his voice tinged with nostalgia as he reflects on his journey. “I was born into a musical home. My dad is an instrumentalist who plays guitar, bass, and piano, and he’s also a DJ. So everything came from him.” 

His initial interest was further piqued by Alakuko’s vibrance. A suburb of Agbado in Lagos, Alakuko’s intersection with neighbouring city, Abeokuta, forms a huge part of his story. However, his experience with the latter still carries harrowing trauma that is difficult to express verbally. “I moved to Ogun State at some point and then to Abeokuta, where I worked at a block factory,” he reveals, his voice drooping. “It’s a very long story and there are sad parts I don’t want to delve into too deeply.” 

Rather than wallow in the hurt, Magicsticks revels in the beautiful beginnings of the area that trained  his heart and ears  to appreciate the atmospheric warmth that music provides. “I grew up in a community where music was everywhere in the streets, in people’s homes,” he recounts. “You’d walk two houses and find a cassette seller or music distributor.” These primary experiences became tiny seeds planted in him and have been germinating for a decade and a half, fueling an incessant desire to be exceptional. In 2011, he embraced the challenges of growth, took a bet on himself and started his music production journey with the resources available to him. 

 

Since recording studios weren’t popular at the time, he utilised home theatre speakers, church microphones, his laptop and a soundcard to produce his first set of beats. When he gained admission to study Computer Science at Lagos State Polytechnic, he connected with like-minded individuals, including Mystro and his revered role model, Jay Pizzle, who gifted him his first studio equipment that set a professional baseline for his career. 

However, Magicsticks’ rise to stardom wasn’t instant. He had been creating for 10 years before his fruitful relationship with one of Afropop’s greatest hitmakers, Asake saw him solo-produce his acclaimed debut album ‘Mr Money With the Vibe.’  Now a successful cultural figure, Magicsticks spends his days as a studio rat, free of the pressure to prove himself, thanks to a hit-studded catalogue that has made him a role model for burgeoning producers. Despite his success, he’s still actively resisting the urge to take his foot off the gas. “It’s either I make it or I die trying,” he admits. “There’s no in-between for me.”

 

This interview has been edited for clarity.

Looking back at your origins and childhood, what forged you into the person you are today?

The impact of my dad. He’s a music person, an instrumentalist who plays guitar, bass, and piano, and he’s also a DJ. I was born into a musical home, so everything came from him. My mom is a fashion designer and doesn’t know much about music, so all my musical influence came from my dad.

Were you certain from a young age that you wanted to pursue music?

All my life. I’ve never really been interested in anything else. Growing up, I wanted to be a DJ, but I felt like that wasn’t enough. I wanted to understand how music is created and the whole production process, so I decided to go into production.

What were some of your earliest influences in music and production?

My environment played a huge role. I grew up in a community where music was everywhere, in the streets, in people’s homes. You’d walk two houses and find a cassette seller or music distributor. I grew up listening to all types of music: Juju, Fuji, Apala and later producers like Kanye West. I also listened to Nigerian producers like Sarz, Jay Pizzle, and Mystro. These were all major influences.

When did you start music production professionally?

 I started production professionally around 2010 or 2011.

Did you have your own studio back then?

No, there was no studio. It was just me, my laptop, my sound card, and home theatre speakers. I remember using some home theatres like that before I got my first studio speakers from Jay Pizzle. He was the first person who gave me studio equipment. I was using church microphones instead of proper condenser microphones. Very basic equipment, but the recordings came out pretty decent for that time.

Now that you’re a professional producer, what skills do you think are essential to the job?

Hard skills include production knowledge, piano skills, the ability to produce music itself, mixing, sometimes writing, and mastering. For soft skills, it’s about understanding the artist, their personality and how to interpret the relationship between us. Different artists have different ways that work for them. Some don’t enjoy people being around. Most of the time, they don’t have to say it; you can tell from their aura and facial expressions. 

You mentioned songwriting. Are you a songwriter as well?

I do a little bit of songwriting. I have written actual songs, but I won’t be giving titles for now. I think when my personal projects come out, people will get to hear  more of that aspect of me. I believe all producers basically write melodies. Even if they don’t come up with lyrics, they can create melodies.

  

What’s the role of Nigerian producers in reshaping the global perspective of Afrobeats and African music?

Producers are the bridge between the artist and the listener. We’re like instrumentalists on a live stage. The artist could sing acapella and the audience would still get it, but it doesn’t come in full. When you have your guitarist and everything there, the audience understands you better. We’re the bridge. We play an important role that people are now beginning to see more clearly. There’s no artist without a producer. The artist vocalises, but the emotion and feeling that people derive from the music, that’s what the producer offers.

You’ve fostered an amazing artist-producer synergy with Asake. How did your relationship start and how have you maintained it?

I met Asake back in 2019 through a friend called Sydney Talker. We’ve been working ever since. Knowing somebody and being able to manage the relationship works because this man is down to earth, he’s not somebody who will stress you in your field. He lets you do what you need to do, and at the same time, I understand where to let him come in with his creativity. That balance has been very helpful to the relationship and creativity. It has kept us going at a very good speed.

Let’s talk about genres. Nigerian Pop has borrowed from several genres in recent years. How do you bridge African influences and other genres in a way that appeals to the Nigerian sonic palette?

Being a musician, you’re like a preacher. You’re not preaching just to Nigerians, you’re preaching to the world. We adapt by wanting to communicate our music to different people and different aspects of the world. To do that musically as a producer, I infuse different sounds without losing my own self, which is Afrobeats.

What’s the core signature that defines Afrobeats as a producer?

I may miss it sometimes because I don’t always bring all the instruments in production. But most of the time I really enjoy my saxophones. If I don’t do that, I use violins, but violin isn’t really an Afrobeat instrument. It’s not about the instruments themselves, but about the progression of the instruments. How the instrument is being played determines whether what you’re playing is Afrobeats or not. I can use a sax to play a melody and it sounds Afrobeat. I can play something else with it and it sounds different.

Which genres are you most excited about right now?

Because of my personal projects coming up, I’m doing a lot of AfroHouse and AfroTech experiments at the moment. I’m not saying that will necessarily be the next thing people will be listening to, but these are things I’m experimenting with.

What’s your take on the burgeoning EDM and rave scenes?

Every genre has a role to play. There’s a moment when you want to be at a rave, and the next moment you may want to be at a local bar. All these genres have major roles to play. I don’t have a specific take, but I really like what Group Therapy is doing with the rave [culture].

You mentioned having personal projects coming. What’s this about?

It’s a producer-led DJ album. It’s a project where the artists express themselves and I express myself as well. It’s a kind of project where the artist doesn’t do too much and I don’t do too much either, but it’s still appealing to the audience. There’s going to be a lot of body movement, people are going to be moving their bodies a lot. With the way the country is now, this music is to put people in their good pockets.

As someone shaping the future of sound, what do you think music production in Nigeria will look like a few years from now?

Music production will still be music production. The sounds might keep changing as producers try to find new sounds and experiment, but it’s still going to be a couple of guys working their ass off trying to bring out the best in production. I’m not sure yet, but I hope it’s in its best form. If you asked me this question ten years ago, I wouldn’t have known either. But there will always be guys trying to keep it going, and hopefully we’re still here doing the job.

Tell me about your producer tag. How did you coin it?

A friend of mine made the tag for me. I was using a different one at first, a very local one. It was like “Magic lo se beat” back then. I was in school at Lagos State Polytechnic, studying Computer Science. At some point, I just knew that the dream I wanted was international, and I needed to come up with something way better and nicer. So I trashed that and opted for “Tune in to the King of Sounds and Blues” because I realised that these melodies are not ordinary, they are ordained by God Almighty.

What advice would you give to upcoming producers?

I’d tell them to double the pace at which they’re working. If they’re at 50%, they should make it 100% and keep it original. You don’t necessarily have to do what everybody is doing just because that’s what people are listening to. If I had been leaning into what people were listening to, I may not have found my own sound. There’s a personality within you that wants to be expressed. Don’t deny that. Execute it every time it comes to mind.

What personal philosophy have you based your life on?

God is the greatest. People close to me really know that I post this on my WhatsApp story everyday. It’s not just to post, but to let them know that he is indeed the greatest.  I don’t want to talk much but I’m going to touch on it a little bit.  I’ve worked in a block factory. I’ve done different stuff before this. God can make everything align. I believe in the talent God gave me, and I have one other belief: it is a must that I make it in life. It’s either I make it or I die trying. There’s no in-between for me.