Njerae Is Rewriting The East African R&B Story

Posted on by Tela Wangeci

If 2025 has proven anything, it’s that Njerae’s moment has truly arrived. From signing with Universal Music Group to releasing her sophomore EP, ‘Four Letter Word,’ in February 2025, and becoming Spotify’s EQUAL ambassador, Njerae has spent the year charting new territory for East African R&B and Afropop.

While some might call her recent wins an overnight success, her journey tells a very different story. With over 10 years in the Kenyan music scene, Njerae’s rise is built on discipline, consistency, and quiet conviction. From her early days at Sauti Academy (then mentored by Sauti Sol) to her time at the Perform Incubator led by Muthoni Drummer Queen, she has sharpened her craft into something both soulful and intentional, and her ‘Four Letter Word (Deluxe)’ release is proof of that evolution.

Today, Njerae’s catalog reads like a slow burn toward mastery, boasting a digital footprint of over 10 million streams for “Aki Sioni,” nearly 5 million for “OTD,” and a growing community of more than 245,000 monthly Spotify listeners. 

 

Her sound continues to expand beyond borders, with Nigeria standing as her second-largest market and the UK among her top 10, cementing her as one of the few Kenyan R&B acts resonating across continents. The ‘Four Letter Word (Deluxe)’ is more than just an extended project; it’s a reflection of how far Njerae’s sound has traveled. The deluxe version sees her leaning further into global textures, stretching R&B into Afro-House, Amapiano, and stripped-down Soul while keeping her pen sharp and her stories deeply personal.

We caught up with Njerae to unpack the creative decisions behind ‘Four Letter Word (Deluxe)’ and understand her growth as both an artist and critical voice in East Africa’s blossoming R&B scene.

You’ve just dropped the deluxe edition of ‘Four Letter Word.’ Why did you feel this project needed a second chapter?

In a way, the deluxe felt like closure. I originally wrote ‘Four Letter Word,’ with the concept of love in its vulnerable and pure state. After releasing it, I have felt growth and processed new vaults in life. The deluxe is me coming back to love not just as a feeling but as a choice. I have grown, and there is a reflection of a soft kind of power in love. 

What prompted your shift from independence to joining Universal Music Group?

I have always wanted to be independent, but artistry comes with evolution. Signing with Universal Music Group wasn’t about giving up my power as an artist but expanding my reach. I also wanted to build a team that understood my vision, and I saw that UMG has the potential not only to take East African R&B to a global scene but also to create an impact on my music. It’s still my story, but I get a bigger microphone

You recently performed at the first international edition of Blankets & Wine in the UK. What did that experience teach you about your craft and your audience abroad?

It was an amazing and memorable experience, I won’t lie. It reminded me that music travels. Guys in London were singing Swahili lyrics, and they knew each song. Basically, music doesn’t need language or translation. 

In June, you were named Spotify’s EQUAL ambassador, a program spotlighting women pushing boundaries in music. How do you use your platform to open doors for the next generation of female creators?

I believe representation matters, and I would want women to know it’s possible when they see me take this space. I am producing, writing, and performing. I want them to see themselves in me. I mentor and collaborate with lots of women around, and I hope that we can build a pipeline rather than a moment. I want more women to freely tell their stories regardless of where they come from. 

As an artist and storyteller, how do you use your voice to speak up for creators and preserve authenticity in digital music spaces?

It starts with being transparent about what the system looks like for artists, creators, and what needs to change. I like being fair and valuing artistry over virality. I try to keep my releases intentional and not just algorithmic. Music should be a feeling and not a format. 

 

Fashion has become an integral part of your aesthetic lately. When ‘Four Letter Word’ dropped, we saw you embracing earthy tones and soft silhouettes. How do you weave fashion and music together in your storytelling and personal expression?

Fashion, just like instrumentation, is an extension of music and sound. It’s how you make music visible. When I did the EP in February, the earth tones were to represent grounding and intimacy, and I have evolved since then, and so has my style. With the growth of my aesthetic, I am telling a story without words.. With every palette, tone, and texture, I am telling people about myself and what emotions I am feeling. 

You exist in a delicate R&B pocket that often leans on heartbreak and longing. How do you keep your themes fresh while staying emotionally honest?

I like to live first as a human, then write. Every time I think I have said everything about love or life, I pull away from conversations. I sit in silence and draw my own personal inspiration from how Nairobi feels to me in different seasons. The key is finding new ways to feel out loud. Just living as a person and allowing everything to flow.

Talking about “Decide (Remix),” the original version flirted with Amapiano, but the remix pushes deeper into Afro-House. Was that a conscious pivot or a product of creative experimentation?

I think it was both. When I revisited the original song, I felt the urge to make it more cathartic. There is a way music can speak to you, and it creates a moment of hypnosis. “Decide” was giving me Afro-House, and I decided to follow that route. I also really wanted to make people connect with it on the dancefloor without being introspective. It’s the same story just at a different tempo.

The deluxe includes two new tracks, “Gone” and “Colors.” What’s the story behind those records, and how do they complete the ‘Four Letter Word’ narrative?

“Gone” is about letting go of love that lingers, while “Colors” is the healing after all of that. It’s joyful, light, and a discovery. I felt that together they complete a whole circle as the deluxe begins with a heartbreak and ends with the peace of choosing yourself again, and that was the whole intention.

 

This body of work feels distinctly more international in production, tone, and energy. What story were you trying to tell through this evolution?

More than anything, I wanted to show that East African R&B can live and survive anywhere while being timeless and borderless. This time, as an artist, I feel it’s more about expanding myself and my reach. I am telling a story about myself in Nairobi, and I want the story to echo and relate to everyone around the world.

Listen to ‘Four Letter Word (Deluxe)’ here.

Qing Madi Joins Keith Sweat and Lil Wayne On “Working II”

Posted on by Wale Oloworekende

Rising Nigerian singer, Qing Madi, joined R&B star, Keith Sweat, and Lil Wayne on the remix of remix of his Sweat’sl single “Working,” unfurling an intercontinental collaboration that bridges classic R&B, Hip-Hop star power, and the new wave of Afropop

Originally released earlier this year, “Working” found Sweat wrestling with the complexities of love, that delicate tug-of-war between desire and distance. Over a smooth, emotionally rich production, he narrates the story of a man who takes two steps forward while his lover retreats three steps back, laying bare the struggle of convincing someone that you’re the right fit for them. 

 

The song’s theme of persistence in love resonated deeply, driven by Qing Madi’s youthful, soulful performance that injected African warmth into Sweat’s timeless vulnerability. With Lil Wayne stepping into the mix, the record evolves into something grander, a fusion of eras, genres, and emotions. Wayne’s verse brings a charismatic sharpness to the narrative, turning the record into a conversation between the unrelenting pursuit of love and the swagger of experience. 

Listen to “Working II” here. 

uNder: Best New Artists (October, 2025)

Posted on by The Native

The conversations that keep coming up during our daily newsroom more often than not revolve around platforming the music we love and the communities that surround its wider culture. Very regularly, the music that excites our team reflects The NATIVE’s vision of being a bastion of music from parts of Africa and the Black diaspora. There are exciting acts from the ever-evolving Nigerian music underground, rappers experimenting with Dance Music and Hip-Hop from South Africa, as well as emotive singers whose work blurs the boundary between Hip-Hop and R&B. 

Discovering these acts, being blown away by their skills, and sharing our community about them continues to excite us more than three years after we conceived this column as a platform to spotlight talents that represent all that’s exciting about African music. In a world where marketing budgets, ad spends, and PR placements continue to reshape the music landscape, uNder is still our way of raging against the system and spotlighting deserving acts whose works are vital to sustaining the creative spirit that makes African music indispensable. For our October entry, we have Monochrome, Esoterica, KKeda, and Y Celeb. This cohort is united by a thrilling sense of freewheeling experimentation that is sure to serve them well as their career progresses. We hope you enjoy discovering them half as much as we enjoyed listening to their music and writing about them. 

Monochrome

For Fans of: Seyi Vibez, Mavo, Danpapa GTA

A cursory glance at Monochrome’s Instagram page, and it’s pretty evident that the Abuja-born singer, songwriter and producer does not deal in subtlety. More often than not, he’s dressed in showy outfits that blend high fashion with streetwear influences, creating a visual spectacle that is captivating and, perhaps more importantly, mirrors and amplifies his equally flamboyant musical style and larger-than-life disposition. This eccentricity that courses through his music and sartorial choices has helped Monochrome, born Praise Echu, gradually emerge as one of the more exciting names to come out of the vibrant underground scene in recent months. 

Even though Monochrome only started putting out music officially in early 2024, his frequent releases have helped him quickly establish an omnivorous style that mostly mixes and mashes Western Trap influences with drum-heavy styles like Amapiano and Afropop. His first single, “PAY ME,” and the follow-up “SOBOBO,” which came two months later, are both peppy, uptempo bops that set the tone for ‘+P4R4NORM4L,’ his debut project, which arrived in April 2024. On the opening track “Je M’appelle 444,” he wastes little time making known his modus operandi as he repeatedly sings ‘Je M’appelle 444, I no come here to conform,’ over some buoyant percussion. He goes on to showcase more of his eccentric approach across the other six tracks, especially on highlights like “Dirty Diana” and “Omoge Diana.”

While most of the production on ‘+P4R4NORM4L’ was handled by close collaborator Irigo, Monochrome began to produce his own beats soon after. This hands-on approach enabled him to infuse his sound with a pronounced psychedelic edge, a characteristic that has become increasingly prominent in his more recent music. Following the release of his debut, he put out a couple of singles to maintain his growing momentum before ‘+SWAGU°,’ his sophomore project, arrived in May 2025. 

The project expands on Monochrome’s non-conformity as he seamlessly blends different styles to produce even more dynamic and compelling cuts. “NEW SWAGGA,” the opening track, is powered by some ominous synths and bouncy drums. Standouts “COMPUTER” and “BILLIE JEAN” are tailor-made for the dancefloors thanks to insistent thud of log drums, hypnotic shakers and piano rhythms, while “MIA KHALIFA,” the most downtempo offering on here, highlight just how malleable his style is as he continues to showcase what he’s all about. 

 

Esoterica

For Fans of: Lorde, Jorja Smith, Asa

Esoterica’s voice possesses an unmistakable power. It’s a distinctive, rich alto that she wields with expert precision, capable of soaring through complex melodies and imbuing every lyric with profound emotion. Even though the Lagos-based singer, songwriter and painter’s music does not always adhere to a set or specific style – Spotify bio describes her as an “alt-pop-grunge-surrealist indie darling” – her rousing vocals remain consistently captivating, whether she’s delivering a tender ballad or an upbeat, Pop-inspired anthem. 

After putting out several unreleased demos on social media and making a name for herself in Lagos’ underground live music circuit, she put out her official debut single “Goldmine” in June 2023. The single finds Esoterica grappling with the existential as she sings, “Feels like I’m running out of time, but I’ve been here all my life / The house is burning, but I’m doing all right, I’m doing just fine” over some haunting production courtesy of close collaborator Yosa. In an interview following the release of the single, she went into detail about the meaning behind “Goldmine”, stating that ‘I think the human mind is a goldmine, it can give you everything that you hope for in life, but you have to figure out how to access it. “

Following the release of “Goldmine,” Esoterica went months without releasing new music, but she continued uploading unreleased demos on social media and expanding her reach with a couple of noteworthy live performances across the city. The follow-up to “Goldmine” wouldn’t come until two years later, when she released the Cozy Kiyo-produced “Think I Might,” a fun, summery single that proved she’s as effective singing light, spirited jams as she is making sombre, melancholic tunes. 

Since the release of “Think I Might,” the powerhouse singer has put her foot on the gas, releasing a bunch of singles and collaborations that paint a fuller picture of her range and rich artistry. She shows off some of her rap skills alongside SGaWD on “Decisions,” while her soaring vocals take centre stage again on “She Said,” a stripped-back number that borders on vulnerability and self-acceptance. She put on an outstanding showing on “Time Of My Life,” a prominent cut from Peruzzi’s latest album ‘SABALI,’ before recently teaming up with EDM bros Spenser M and MR KENOU for a pulsating track titled “Inner Feeling.” One release at a time, Esoterica continues to establish herself as a dynamic force to be reckoned with, and with the promise of even more music to come, she’s definitely on course for wider acclaim. 

 

Kkeda

For Fans Of:  Tiwa Savage, Tems, and Efya

Kkeda weaves heart-tugging narratives around the motion of romance and love, examining its highs and lows with a focused clarity that has made her one of the most exciting rising acts in Afropop right now. Born in London to second-generation black British parents of Jamaican heritage, she bears the imprint of both cultures, pulling resonant rhythms from inside her as well as leaning on sticky-sweet patois in other songs. As a child, she moved to Ghana, spending a significant part of her formative years with her grandmother.  A spinal injury necessitated a return to London down the line, and during that period of her life, music became an escape, helping her to deal with life’s pressures. 

A stint at a London-based theatre school followed as Kkeda worked on sharpening facets of her performance skills. Convinced of her artistry, she once again returned to Ghana, eager to kick off her career, announcing her arrival with the chorus of “I Like It,” a soulful cut on ‘We Outside; Y3 W) Abonten Vol. 1’  by Ground Up Chale. “I Like It” planted Kkeda’s feet, introducing the world to her dexterous blend of R&B and Soul. One year later, she returned with “Cheating,” a reflection on temptations in relationships that ends with the singer reinforcing her dedication to her lover.  She further explored her fascination with romantic dynamics on songs like “Temper” and “Hopeless Romantic” from 2021. 

Her knack for enlivening collaborations was visible on “Tomorrow” off K1’s ‘Love Never Dies,’ a delicate sung-rap collaboration about the hard times in a relationship. A sultry turn on “All Night” saw the singer step into Afropop terrain over a subterranean instrumental that artfully platformed her voice. “Steady,” a textured anthem about being focused on making money was her only release from 2024. 2025 has seen her return to the love-themed releases that helped build her profile. “Love Away” is a thrilling disavowal of toxic love and relationships, while “StarSigns” finds her seeking out a fulfilling romance. 

 

Y Celeb

For Fans Of: Nyashinski, Sarkodie, and Focalistic

Y Celeb makes music that pays homage to the realities of life in his native Zambia. The  Kitwe-born rapper distills his perspective on wider life in the Southern Africa country into vibrant anthems that straddle Hip-Hop and Dance music. Born Webster Chikalaba, he rose to prominence in 2022 with the release of “408 Freestyle,” a collaboration with Wau China that showcased his gritty delivery and a capacity for world-building that his gravelly voice enhances. His breakout year saw him experiment with with Dance on “They Lie,” a posse cut that featured Xaven, Jae Cash, and Briyo. Other songs like “Speedo Meter,” “Mumano,” and “Ah Fenta” found the singer broadening the reach of his sound while perfecting his Dance-Rap fusion. 

The breadth of his vision came to the fore on his 2023 album, ‘Zambia Ku Chalo,’ a pulsating 21-song effort that found Y Celeb expressing pride in his Zambian identity as well as presenting his country as a place to visit. “PUSANAKO” reverbrates with that sense of pride, featuring Emmy Zambia, both acts craft a homage to the country that reimagines it as a land of peace and plenty.  Huge swathes of  ‘Zambia Ku Chalo’ are built on a framwork of Dance and Hip-Hop finding common ground in suitable fashion. RAY DEE and JC KALINIKS are a complimentary foil for Celeb’s emotive bars on “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE,” delivering a high point that luxuriates in national pride and self-confidence. 

In the two years since,  ‘Zambia Ku Chalo,’ Y Celeb’s vision has only grown stronger. His May 2025 album, ‘MOST WANTED,’ casts him as an elusive figure who’s operating at the cutting edge of Southern African music. On “Money,” he lets off bars about  paper-chasing alongside a balmy chorus supplied by Goddy ZM. There’s an invocation to embrace the journey on “Dont Rush” and a party summons on the dance-ready “Confess.” Just months after ‘MOST WANTED,’ Celeb returned with “Ichushi,” a jaunty hip-hop cut with Smart Kays (Dope Boys) and Jay Dollar that found at his venomous best. 

How ‘Made In Lagos’ Created A Blueprint For An Era

Posted on by Toriola Olawale

It’s been five years since we got ‘Made in Lagos,’ an album widely considered to be one of the most conceptual and impactful albums of the Afropop-to-the-world era, and arguably the greatest Nigerian album ever made. Yet this moment was more than 14 years in the making.

When Wizkid emerged in 2010 with ‘Superstar,’ he became the face of a new generation, an emblem of the “Naija Pop” renaissance that fused swagger, melody, and streetwise optimism. The album’s resonance was instant and enduring, cementing its place as a new-school classic and positioning Wizkid as one of the brightest talents Nigerian music had ever seen. At the time, this writer was a nine-year-old boy somewhere on the outskirts of Lagos, echoing the lyrics about what it meant to be a ‘Superstar.’ Since then, Wizkid has been in constant motion, evolving and deliberate in his quest to redefine what it means to be a global superstar whose art transcends borders without losing its essence.

After Drake’s chart-topping “One Dance” in 2016, Wizkid became Nigeria’s most visible pop export. His third studio album, 2017’s ‘Sounds From the Other Side,’ extended his global footprinr, featuring collaborations with Drake, Chris Brown, Major Lazer, and TY Dolla $ign. Yet while it opened international doors, it alienated parts of his home audience. 

 

Unlike his sophomore project ‘Ayo,’ which leaned into Yoruba percussion, street lamba, and traditional dance rhythms—rekindling his domestic connection with hits like “Jaiye Jaiye,” “In My Bed,” “On Top Your Matter,” and “Ojuelegba”—‘SFTOS’ felt, to many Nigerians, like an experiment made for Western ears making the album a niche triumph and not the homegrown resonance that defined his earlier sound.

But true visionaries rarely remain still. To become the defining global Afropop star of his generation, Wizkid needed to reimagine, not replicate, his past, as the saying goes, “to play the orchestra, one must turn their back on the audience.” So, Wizkid went quiet. For a while, he took a step back from full-length projects, appearing only on select collaborations while refining what would become his magnum opus. In December 2019, ‘SoundMan Vol. 1,’ a surprise EP credited to Starboy rather than Wizkid, arrived as a quiet revelation that was built around silky, percussive production from Kel-P and London. It previewed a new sound: smooth, Afro-fusion elegance steeped in calm confidence and global fluency, while retaining the percussive elements that characterized his previous eras.

By the time ‘Made in Lagos’ finally dropped in October 2020, Wizkid had mastered restraint as power. To fans and skeptics alike, this album wasn’t just another release, it was a cultural reset that was going to redefine the soundscape and scalability of Afropop as a movement. While some at home initially struggled to accept his sonic evolution, the album soared abroad, breaking into global airwaves and earning co-signs from major pop culture figures. 

‘Made in Lagos’ redefined what a crossover hit album could sound like on a level we hadn’t experienced. It was authentically Lagos, yet fluid enough to resonate everywhere. The features—H.E.R., Damian Marley, Skepta, Burna Boy, Tay Iwar, Projexx, Ella Mai—mirrored Wizkid’s cosmopolitan range, reinforcing his global Pop appeal. But it was “Essence,” featuring Tems, that became the global breakout. The Trojan record infiltrated American radio, climbed international charts, and reshaped Afropop’s image abroad. When the Justin Bieber-assisted remix of the song and ‘Made in Lagos’ (Deluxe) arrived in August 2021, “Essence” peaked at No. 9 on the Billboard Hot 100, spending 35 weeks there, making history as the highest-charting Afrobeats record ever at the time. 

Culturally, ‘Made in Lagos’ evolved into a movement. It marked a turning point, effectively transforming Afropop from an “emerging market/genre” to a global mainstay, proving the sound’s commercial viability and cultural power. Its impact was not only in numbers but in energy back at home. 2019, leading into 2020, was a period dominated by street-leaning records from acts like Naira Marley and Zlatan, as well as the Street-Pop wave. Wizkid’s polished revolution on ‘Made in Lagos’  was an antithesis that packaged intimacy and the rhythms of Lagos into a universal sound, building a blueprint that would serve many in the years in to come.

For many of his colleagues in the industry, especially younger acts on the come up, ‘Made in Lagos’ became a lesson in sonic minimalism, global storytelling, and mood curation. Every track on the album felt deliberate, with personal favorites like “No Stress,” “Blessed,” and “Ginger” radiating composure, while “True Love” and “Grace” glowed with the quiet fire of maturity.

The album opened new doors not just for Wizkid but for Afropop as a whole. Suddenly, radio programmers, festival curators, and global labels were paying attention, not as a trend, but as a culture. The sound of Lagos had found its most elegant translator through its most elegant representative. Two years later, Rema’s “Calm Down” pushed the genre to even greater heights, standing as a natural successor to “Essence.”

Still, everyone admits that it was Wizkid’s album that proved Afropop could dominate globally without compromise, that African rhythms, moods, and emotions could travel the world on their own terms. For Wizkid, ‘Made in Lagos’ wasn’t just music, it was a reclamation of self. After years of experimentation and evolution, he’d found a balance between global appeal and cultural identity. The project’s essence—lush, meditative, layered—mirrored Lagos itself: a fine blend of composure and beauty. 

 

 

Five years later, ‘Made in Lagos’ still stands tall, not merely as a record of achievements, but as a redefinition of possibility, representing patience, evolution, and faith in one’s sound. For every young dreamer from this part of the world, it’s proof that greatness can be quiet, and influence can be soft-spoken. For this writer, now in his twenties, documenting the culture that shaped his childhood, it remains a personal compass. The same kid who once sang along to ‘Superstar’ on the outskirts of Lagos now writes about the music that gave his generation its voice.

And Wizkid? He’s still standing tall. Still calm, still confident. Five years after, he’s navigating another golden age and releasing some of his finest work yet, still anchored in Lagos, guiding us through an odyssey of mood, melody, and fusion. He remains the same boy from Ojuelegba, only now a global figure whose sound has outgrown geography but never forgotten home. ‘Made in Lagos’ remains more than an album; it’s a testament that shifted the culture and stretched the limits of what African music could be. And five years on, the blueprint still holds.

NATIVE Exclusive: Mavo’s Universe 

Posted on by Wale Oloworekende

On a sunny Wednesday afternoon in August, Mavo is talking through outfit changes for his Bizzypedia shoot at a law library in Ikoyi, Lagos. It’s only the first part of a tasking stretch that would see him have multiple fit swaps and work through several poses in front of the camera before heading to another studio in Lekki for an audio-visual accompaniment to his specially curated zine, Bizzypedia. 

Mavo does all that’s required of him with calculated precision, responding when his input is sought from him or a clarification is needed. Still, halfway through his time at the law library in Ikoyi, there is a realisation that our interview, originally scheduled to be held at some point during the shoot, will not take place anymore as his team of stylists and photographers take over the show, hard at work to perfect all the elements for the shoot of Bizzypedia, a one-of-a-kind publication that’s designed to be an immersive incursion into the alternate universe that the Benin-born singer has designed for his fans and listeners. 

The need for Bizzypedia is necessitated by how slippery it can be to classify Mavo. On some days, he’s a 21-year-old student of optometry at Afe Babalola University in Ekiti State. On other days, he’s an ascendant force in Afropop who comes up with radio bangers in his dorm room in his free time, preferring to hunker down with his music while his peers go to football pitches to blow off steam, but perhaps the most fascinating part of Mavo’s composition is an intuitive apathy for language. 

Where other rising musicians rely excessively on tonality and vocal dexterity, Mavo’s playful inversion of language has seen him weave compelling narratives around heartbreak, ambition, and despondency into an entertaining brand of music that’s addictive and resonant.  It comes from years of studying music and working his way towards writing songs people would gravitate towards.  “Growing up, I always listened to music, but I was more of a writer,” he says when we finally get a chance to speak near the end of August. “I was always writing music. I always wanted to write lyrics. I was always writing them out, trying to mime, trying to know them in my head.”

It is fitting that he lists Wande Coal and Duncan Mighty as critical acts who shaped his music, praising them for their writing style, the singing style they employed, and the way they’ve navigated independence in a brutal industry. “I really appreciate their vocal presence and lyrical flexibility,” he says.  “They could go from high to low so easily, and they were not really mainstream artists, but they did not have to do so much and did not have to be like Wizkid and Davido to show that they were so good in the music, and people still recognise them as very good artists. That’s what I wanted for myself.”

That streak for self-sufficiency is a legacy of Mavo’s childhood. Born in Ekpoma, Edo State, he moved to Warri in nearby Delta State as a child before returning to Edo for secondary school as a boarding student. It was as a student of  Lumen Christi International High School that he was christened Mavo, setting him on the path to global fame. “When I got to SS1, there was a club called Music Club. In that club, every Friday you go there to sing what we have made, or what we’ve written,” he remembers. “That’s where I started putting out my music. I started showing that I was an artist and I could make music. From SS1, guys were already vibing with me. They would always wait for Friday to hear what I have to drop.”

When he got admitted to study optometry at Afe Babalola University, he was determined to level up as a musician, seeking out collaborators to work with on his music and improve his craft. For his first four years in university, all he did was write music and record while building an expansive digital vault of songs. When the time came to start releasing music professionally, in 2023, he had 300 songs ready to go. “I record by myself,” he explains. “It’s not that hard.” His first set of songs performed well online, receiving over 5,000 streams on SoundCloud just a few days after they were released. Sensing an opportunity to structure a proper campaign, his manager, Bevs, took down some of the songs from SoundCloud. “I decided to release it properly on DSPs because those songs required proper attention,” she says. 

 

Those songs formed the backbone of his debut project, ‘Ukanigbe,’ an exploratory seven-tracker that housed gems like “Tumo Weto,” a spiteful rumination on a failed relationship,  “Timo Wena,” an amapiano-inflected rendition of the depths he’s willing to go to prove his love to a romantic interest, and the titular track that’s a defiant declaration of his independence. Listeners were confused about this fascinating new voice and his insistence on maintaining independence in an industry where many crave connections to major labels and the promise of success that those affiliations seemingly promise. For Mavo, the freedom to do things at his own pace was important for the singer in the early days of his career. 

“Everybody was confused about why I was saying that I was independent,” he says. “Guys were like, ‘Why is this guy trying to do this at the first stage of his music career? Why is he trying to say he is independent? Why does he not want any help?’ I was just trying to build myself first. I wanted to see what I could do by myself before taking help from anybody.”

Armed with a trove of music and a nimble team aligned with his vision, the singer followed up  ‘Ukanigbe’ with a series of projects that expanded on his id while introducing fresh dimensions to his delivery and style. What has remained constant is a fierce dedication to making music deeply marked by luxury and indulgent consumerism, as evinced by his go-to line: no more way for poor people. For better or worse, it’s an honest reflection of the thought process of a young Nigerian living through some of the most torrid economic conditions in the nation’s history. 

 

He doesn’t shy away from admitting that his music is made with opulence in mind when I ask him how he would define his music. “I define my music as luxury music; my music is just luxurious,” he answers without missing a beat. “That’s why not everybody can understand it. If you are focused on making money, you can grasp my music, but not as much as those who are already making music. If you want to make money, you can get it to an extent, but not as much as those already making money. If you are currently making money and money is getting into your account, there’s no way you will not feel my music because it’s luxury music.”

Still, he goes through great odds to explain that he regards himself as an artist who is obsessed with music. “The thing about me is that I’m an artist who always cares about the art,” he shares. “I feel like just singing about God’s blessings or singing about parties is not how to be an artist. For me, an artist is meant to be able to make a song about any situation. Art should not be confined, and an artist should not be limited. I have songs about parties, I have songs about food, I have songs about drinking, and I have songs about smoking. I just have songs for different moments.” 

While his catalogue is indeed packed with songs that run the gamut of the human experience, it is a song about the unabashed embrace of opulence and palatial grandeur that has provided the momentum propelling his career forward over the last six months. “Escaladizzy,” a song he wrote in his room, has become one of the most defining songs of 2025, thanks to the confluence of his unique slang infused in indigenous rhythms and WAVE$TAR’s breezy delivery. What started as a viral moment across social media became a catalyst for Mavo’s emergence as a solid contender for the breakout Nigerian act of 2025. 

 

“When I went to WAVE$TAR’s house, I told him that I already had this song I wanted to record, but I didn’t know if he would be nice on it,” Mavo says. “I was just playing the beat, and he was vibing to it. So, I was just like, ‘This is a nice vibe that would lead up to the part I already wrote.’ We actually didn’t even finish the song; we just stopped at the chorus, and that was it. We didn’t record the verses. It was after we finished for the day that I told him maybe I’ll drop the song, and he would just record his verse and add my part later.”

Initially, Mavo had planned to release a deluxe version of his April album, ‘Kilometer,’ but the demand for “Escaladizzy” forced him in a different direction, leading to the biggest hit of his career. He’s insistent that this moment was always going to come. “I was always sure of myself,” he says matter-of-factly. “I was already sure that no matter how much the music didn’t go so far at first, it was going to go so far eventually, I was just going to continue pushing.” 

Still, the scale and demands of his meteoric rise to fame shock even him sometimes. “The most surprising thing is me not wanting to go out and not wanting people to see me,” he admits. “Like, I don’t want to be outside. Normally, I thought that when I started popping or getting recognition, I would be an outside guy so that people could take pictures of me and all, but when it happened, everything changed. I get so overwhelmed by people talking to me and the constant interaction.”

A key part of what has contributed to Mavo’s rise is his peculiar slang style, which has been adopted by a generation of onlookers and fans eager to decipher what the meaning of words like ifatizzy, bur bur, and burti mean. In some ways, his unique slang represents the work from his POV and an attempt to build a world around his music.  “I have always wanted to create an alternate language where people can have fun, and people will not understand, and this is similar to that,” he explains. 

With an ever-expanding audience tuning in to his music, Mavo is keen to help them find their way through his music by providing illumination on some of the slang used in his music. “Bizzypedia represents me,” he says. “I feel like it’s a better guide to who I am. It is a guide to people understanding me, because I feel like I’m very hard for people to understand. I like the fact that I’m not easy to understand because when you’re easy to understand, you’ll be easy to access.” With Bizzypedia, he’s aiming to invite people into his world and allow them to get a look at the world from his perspective: “Bizzypedia is going to be a general guide for everybody to finally understand that this is what this Mavo guy is about, and he’s a different person, not just a regular guy, or the regular artist that drops music and goes.”

Not content to sit on his laurels, Mavo is itching for more, invariably leading us to his forthcoming project, ‘Kilometer II.’ While he won’t share a lot of details, he describes it as an improvement on its predecessor. “The first was a race of a lifetime. ‘Kilometer II’ will be a flight of a lifetime,” he says. “We’re flying now and doing unimaginable things. People are always relating us to smoking and doing cana, if you’re doing that, you’re basically on a flight.”

 

As it is, Mavo is busy acclimatising to the demands of stardom and fame while working to complete his degree in Optometry. The release of ‘Kilometer II’ is strategically planned to ensure that he can be back in school in time for classes at some point in October. It’s a seemingly endless grind that would burn out even the strongest person, but Mavo is just keen to get on with it. 

This is the life he always wanted; now that it’s within sight, he just has to reach out and own it. 

Bola PSD Wants To Define A New Era Of Nigerian Streetwear

Posted on by Kofoworola Oloyede

There’s a calm precision to the way Bola speaks. It’s very measured and thoughtful, like someone who has had to learn patience through living it. Before Bola PSD became a force in the new wave of African streetwear, he was just a kid, obsessed with getting his outfits right. “I didn’t know much about fashion then,” he says, “I just liked to dress well and stand out.” What started as a simple love for dressing with intention has slowly evolved into what now defines his brand’s identity.

When Bola PSD launched in 2023, the path wasn’t clear or straight. The first few designs leaned heavily on a rockstar edge. Two months in, Bola pivoted, stripping the brand down to its core and rebuilding it around his own style, creating exactly what he wanted: everyday fits, clean silhouettes, and pieces that truly reflect who he really is.

His journey mirrors the energy of his generation: self-made, deeply personal, and unafraid to evolve in public. From seeing Rema wear his white polo in the “Fun” video to expanding the brand from Lagos to Canada, Bola’s story is really about persistence, taste, and timing. “You don’t need anyone’s validation,” he says. “Everything will align in due time.”

 

What first drew you into fashion, and when did you realize it was more than just a hobby?   

It started in secondary school, I’ve been mindful of how I dress since then. Even back then, I was conscious of the kind of clothes I wore, down to the colors. At the time, I didn’t know much about fashion as a concept; I just knew I liked to dress really well and in a way that made me stand out. I wanted people to see me and know there was something different about my style. Then, in university, being around different people, I got to experience a whole lot more. That’s when it became more than just dressing well. I started being more intentional about it. I saw people who had clothing brands, and I began to feel like I needed to do something that was me-coded. Of course, I didn’t start immediately; I wanted to take my time to observe how everything worked and make sure I got into it the right way. I didn’t have a fashion background, so it was something I basically had to learn and figure out on my own.

Out of all the fashion niches, what was it about streetwear that really spoke to you?

When I started my brand in 2023, the very first design I put out was in a different niche. About two months in, I started realizing I didn’t particularly like the direction it was going; it had more of a rockstar vibe. It wasn’t that the rockstar vibe didn’t feel true to me; I actually like it, but it had its own niche, and I didn’t want the brand to start that way because it wouldn’t appeal to everyone. I wanted Bola PSD to be for everybody, so I had to take a different approach. I began making it more about myself and what I actually liked, rather than just trying to appeal to a specific type of audience like I was doing before. For example, if I felt like wearing track pants today or ribbed T-shirts tomorrow, then that’s what I’d create. The brand basically revolves around me as a person, and I wanted people to see and connect with that. 

Whose work do you admire or study?

Virgil Abloh. He was one of the first people who made me take fashion seriously and actually approach it with more intention. Of course, there are several other people over time that I admire and who inspire me to try different things, but Virgil takes the crown; he played the biggest role in influencing my career. Before I even started my brand, I had a graphic design page where I was trying to put my name out there and show people what I was doing. The fact that Virgil had a graphic design page called Canary Yellow, where he curated his works, also inspired me to do mine that way. He’s been a major influence not just in my creative process but also in the way I present and share my work.

What keeps you going? What’s the motivation behind building your name and brand?

When I first started and began to see how everything was playing out, it really pushed me that this actually happened, and I once dreamt of it. So it made me believe that the bigger dreams will definitely happen too. Looking back at when I was younger, the things I always wanted to do are now playing out in real time, and that just keeps me really motivated. It’s a dream I never thought would unfold this way, and seeing it come to life is what keeps me going every day.

Why do you think your work resonates so much with this new generation of artists?

I feel like every generation has one person they just see and instantly connect with;  someone they just naturally vibe with. I do hope I’m that person. 

 

What’s been the hardest lesson you’ve learned building your brand? 

The hardest lesson would be realizing that you don’t need anyone’s validation to do your thing; everything will eventually align in due time. These things take time, and honestly, time is a major factor. When I first started, I wanted to see results fast, but I had to learn that timing and patience are everything, especially if you’re in it for the long run. What came easily to me was the fashion and design side of things. Since I was already a graphic designer, that part came naturally. I’ve been designing most of the pieces myself for the brand, but right now I’m expanding and bringing more people in.

Some people have strong opinions about streetwear pricing. How do you respond to those conversations around the price of your pieces?

Honestly, I don’t respond much. If people have seen the pieces I’ve put out, especially this year, they’ll see it’s good quality. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, and I always want my clothes to meet a certain standard. As the brand started growing, I knew I had to keep that standard high. I think it’s better to hear people talk about price than to say, “Bola’s stuff isn’t good.” 

I know how much goes into making each piece-the materials and production-and none of it is cheap. A lot of people don’t see the losses brand owners take before things even come together. Also, I’m producing these clothes outside Nigeria, paying in USD, and then selling in Naira;  so that adds another layer to the cost. Still, I try not to overprice. Honestly, the quality could justify higher prices, but I try to keep it as affordable as possible. That’s why I also include smaller pieces like skull caps, so everyone can still get something from Bola PSD. It’s a brand for everyone, not just a specific crowd.

How was it like seeing the white polo t-shirt in Rema’s “Fun” video? Did you actually have any idea that was going to happen?

Yeah, I already knew they were going to use it because they reached out. I also kind of foresaw that there would be a ripple effect once the video dropped, because for someone like Rema, it’s not just any kind of clothing they put him in. So, of course, it validated the brand for some people, and I was ready for that ripple effect on all fronts. Watching it all play out was just really good, seeing how everyone was talking about it even before me meant a lot. 

 

We noticed the site now requires a password. What’s the story behind that? Is Bola PSD moving toward a members-only experience? 

I just closed it temporarily because I’m updating the website and adding new products. Since I recently moved to Canada, there are a few things I still need to adjust because of that, too. It’s nothing permanent; I still want everyone to have access. I’ve made it a point this year to keep my site open at all times, even when there aren’t any items for sale. A day before the new drop, people will be able to sign up via email for early access or to be the first to know when everything goes live.

What’s next for Bola PSD? Any upcoming drops, collabs, or shifts we should be watching for? 

There are a lot of plans, especially for this last quarter. I’m dropping new items and also doing stuff for the women, which is something I’ve always wanted to do. At this point, there’s a bigger responsibility to keep people connected to the brand.

Five Years Later, What Is The Legacy of The #ENDSARS Protests?

Posted on by Vincent Desmond

“The protests had begun in Delta and other parts of the country,” recalls Femi Fadahunsi, who was working as a reporter for Nigerian culture publication Zikoko in 2020 when the EndSARS protests broke out. “In Lagos, it began as a group camping outside the state government house. I’d seen it unfolding on Twitter and felt something was different about this one. There was no organized movement behind it.”

It was on day two of what would come to be considered the 2020 #EndSARS protest that Fadahunsi joined the protest grounds. By the time he got there, the energy was visible as he watched an even larger crowd join the already sizeable crowd at the Lekki Toll Gate, which became the epicenter of the nationwide protest. “It hit me when I arrived at the grounds,” he remembers. “The energy was palpable, and in that moment, I knew this was going to be something momentous.”

Ebele Molua, a media and events consultant, helped provide protesters with food during the protests. She still remembers when she realized that what was unfolding was something special. ‘‘I suddenly saw a wave of people charging in the direction of the group of protesters that were already there,” she recounts. “It was another group of protesters that had walked all the way from Agege to join the group I was leaving. You could literally feel the momentum of the protesters that were already on the ground shoot through the roof. They were not alone. I knew in that moment this was going to be one for the books.’’

By the time October 2020 rolled around, it felt like the world had already lived through every possible plot twist. The year had opened with a global pandemic that forced the world into lockdown. It left everyone glued to the news, watching death tolls climb while scrolling endlessly through social media. Then came the #BlackLivesMatter protests in the West, sparking a global reckoning with institutional racism.

in Nigeria, a different type of reckoning with institutional authority had been brewing. The Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) was a specific unit of the Nigerian Police Force that was created to deal with violent crimes like robbery and kidnapping. Since its formation in 1992, the unit had become known for being particularly violent to civilians whom they often profiled based on looks. Accusations of extrajudicial killings, extortions, and torture had inspired several protests and pushbacks from many over the years. In fact, reforms had been promised in 2016, 2017, 2018, and 2019, all to no avail or visible change. If anything, SARS got more violent as the months and years passed. 

In October of 2020, a video showing a SARS police officer shooting a young Nigerian at Ughelli, Delta State, hit the Internet. Soon after, reports of SARS officials gunning down an up-and-coming musician named Sleek also surfaced. Something about these videos in quick succession caused the internet to respond with fervor, and soon after, young people hit the streets of states around Nigeria. 

 

EndSARS was, in many ways, a collective national coming-of-age. It felt like we were a newly minted generation of young adults baptized by fire, suddenly seeing our country and ourselves with clarity. This cohort would come to be known as the Soro Soke Generation ( meaning“Speak Up” in Yoruba). The excitement was electric. Everyone was tweeting, posting, and amplifying not just police brutality but also the broader political and social injustices that had been ignored for decades.

For the first time in many of our lives, here was a movement that wasn’t defined by party politics, ethnic divisions, or personal ambition. It was a collective push for real change that, we hoped, could make our lives better. It felt like we were unlocking a dormant muscle, realizing who we were and how much power we truly held. The political class scrambled, visibly shaken by the sheer scale and unity of the youth-led uprising.

The EndSARS protests soon captured global attention. Unfortunately, on October 20, 2020,  five years ago today, the movement was brutally suppressed in a display of state-sanctioned violence that the government continues to deny. We all watched, in horror and disbelief, as the Nigerian army opened fire on unarmed protesters waving the national flag.

Where the start of EndSARS was defined by faith in our collective strength and a rare sense of patriotic optimism, the events of that night seemed to undo it all. Many young Nigerians were abruptly awakened to a new political and social consciousness. For the first time, we were forced to confront the brutal truth of our disposability and how little regard the state had for our lives, our voices, and our rights.

‘‘Before EndSARS, I believed there were certain lines the government wouldn’t cross,’’ journalist Nelson C.J. told NATIVE Mag. ‘‘Shooting unarmed citizens felt unimaginable. I assumed there was a baseline of decency, a kind of unspoken code. That illusion shattered on October 20th.’’

In Greek mythology, when Pandora opened her box and unleashed all the world’s evils, one spirit remained: Elpis, the spirit of hope. Watching Nigerians come together across ideologies and subcultures during EndSARS felt like we’d been given that spirit to tend to. But on the night of October 20th, it felt dampened as we watched Nigerians who held the Nigerian flag and sang the National anthem being shot at.

‘‘The reminder I have of EndSARS happening is the toll gate not being functional, which I believe is a doggy bone that will soon be snatched away,’’ Molua shares. ‘‘Other than that, it feels like we’re being punished. The country has gotten so much worse since then, by every single indicator.’’

 

Five years might be a short time in a country’s history, but in a person’s life, it’s long enough for wounds to harden into silence. And seemingly that is what has happened to the generation that a few years ago thought that to ‘Soro Soke,’ was going to be our defining characteristic. Five years ago, we shouted, tweeted, and posted about how we were not like our parents’ generation. It seems like Nigeria is happening to us still. We may rephrase or reframe it, but it is visible in how the big Nigerian dream of today is to ‘japa’ where  for our parents, it was ‘checking out’. It all feels like a case of different names but the same reality.

‘‘Sometimes I fear that the Nigerian goldfish memory has set in,” Fadahunsi shares. “We forget the horror. We forget the power we once felt as we marched, demanded, and hoped. We forget the shock of watching our government shoot its own citizens, people armed with nothing but the flag. We forget how quickly the truth was buried under propaganda.’’

So, did we change Nigeria, or did Nigeria change us? 

‘‘The change was sadly not transformative. It unlocked, I’d say, a hunger for escape and a sad sense of statelessness in many.’’ C.J. says. ‘‘While it may seem like nothing really changed, the protests really did show us what is possible. And while it may not happen again, it is a confirmation that when the time comes, we will know how to find our voice again.’’

It is in that possibility, the possibility of our collective power causing change, forcing the political class to look at the state of the country and to get that story out there on the global stage, that the greatest win of the ENDSARS movement lies. Young Nigerians, in a matter of days, created and maintained a decentralized movement that the entire country and the world felt in the middle of one of the most action-packed years of our lives. This should be the legacy of ENDSARS: a constant reminder that we can demand better of institutions meant to serve us. 

Zlatan Is Afropop’s Ultimate Symbol of Hope

Posted on by Folake Ajao

The rhythm of Zlatan Ibile’s life pulses with an urgency that mirrors the streets of Lagos, where dreams are forged in the crucible of hustle. His journey, propelled by raw talent and relentless determination, has carried him from the unassuming streets of Ikorodu to the epicenter of Afropop, where he first made waves with his debut album, ‘Zanku.’ With his latest, ‘Symbol of Hope,’  Zlatan is offering a beacon for those navigating their own paths through adversity.  In parts, this project, his third full-length album, captures the essence of a man who has transformed personal triumphs into a universal call for resilience.

From humble beginnings, Zlatan’s entry into music felt accidental, a detour from his initial ambitions to be a footballer. He recalls stumbling into the craft without a clear map. “When I began making music, I didn’t know what I was doing,” he shares. What started as an experiment ultimately evolved into a defining journey. 

His breakthrough came through a collaboration with Olamide, a moment that shifted the trajectory of his life. Expecting a fierce Hip-Hop back and forth, Zlatan was instead surprised by Olamide’s melodic ingenuity, thrown aback by a song that opened with the puzzling line,   “Oh my lord, the weyrey dey my body.” That unexpected pivot guided by Olamide’s intuition became “My Body,” the master hit that broke him out. “If we had gone bar for bar, I’d probably still be in Ikorodu fighting for my life,” Zlatan admits with a reflective chuckle.

From those roots, his sound blossomed. The fast-paced Street-Pop template that defined his early work has expanded into a richer palette of stirring anthems, mid-tempo reflections, and tender love songs. “Now, I make all kinds of songs: street anthems, mid-tempo tracks, motivational songs, and even calm love songs,” he says. “My sound has definitely evolved, but people on the outside sometimes don’t see the full picture of your growth.” 

It’s been four years since he last released an album, but the Zanku boss has had his hands full. The gap between his 2021 album ‘Resan’ and ‘Symbol of Hope’ was no idle pause but a season of building. “Music is just one part of my life,” he explains, noting the weight of other responsibilities. Still, he has maintained prolificity. In 2022, he released singles and featured on collaborations; his name remained a constant draw for rising artists looking to consolidate mainstream breakthroughs. 

Other responsibilities have shaped his outlook on life. Fatherhood, which arrived in 2020, particularly redefined Zlatan’s world. “Becoming a father in 2020 was a game-changer,” he says. His son became both anchor and muse, tempering the wild energy that fans had come to expect from Zlatan. The “madness” that fueled his street anthems softened, making room for a grounded perspective..The balance that emerges between the chaos of performance and the quiet duties of home life infuses his music with new depth, resonating in “Symbol of Hope.”

 

Beyond the studio, Zlatan’s entrepreneurial spirit has thrived. His fashion brand ZTTW, launched online in 2017, grew into a physical store in Lagos a year and a half ago. Days are spent designing, and nights bleed into dawn in the studio. “I barely sleep–maybe three or four hours–because even when I’m not working, I can’t switch off,” he shares. This relentless cycle birthed tracks for the album, some recorded years ago, each a snapshot of his tireless pursuit.

The creative process of ‘Symbol of Hope’ was both a labor of love and an exercise in precise execution. Zlatan recorded endlessly, amassing hundreds of unreleased songs. “I never stop recording, I work like I’m a banker going to work every day,” he says. The album contains 15 tracks, each reflecting a distinct part of his journey and creative growth. Some songs were recorded years ago, while others were shaped in the studio as the project took form. Some creative decisions reflected his desire to reach a wider audience. He purposefully used more pidgin so listeners from every part of Nigeria and beyond could connect with the music. 

Collaborations are also at the heart of the project. Qing Madi’s haunting vocals on “Demons” add emotional heft, while Shallipopi and Terry the Voice ignite “Jeserawa” with street-forged energy. “Gimme Your Love,” featuring Olamide, feels like a sacred reunion, their bond transcending music. Olamide, a mentor and brother, has shaped Zlatan’s path with lessons in humility and generosity. “He’s probably helped more artists in Nigeria than anyone else,” Zlatan notes. 

 

For the first time in his career, Zlatan opened his creative doors to songwriters after eight years of writing every lyric himself. At first, he resisted. No one, he thought, could capture his thoughts better than he could. But he gave it a chance, and what followed surprised him. The words came alive in ways that felt eerily familiar, as if someone had reached inside his heart and rearranged his feelings into melody. “The writer just understood me,” he explains. His friend, Chinko Ekun, was present through the process, helping to complete lines that felt unfinished until they landed. 

Beyond the music itself, “Symbol of Hope” represents Zlatan’s ambition to inspire a new generation of artists and fans. He sees the album as a platform to showcase the possibilities that arise when dedication and creativity merge. “Seeing Olamide’s success made me believe I could do it too; seeing Wizkid make it at such a young age made me realize that I don’t have to be thirty-five before making music,” he says. “Now, I know many people also look up to me as their symbol of hope too. Anybody can be a symbol of hope if they inspire you to be better.”. 

In many ways, Street-Pop’s evolution mirrors Zlatan’s own. What began with raw, street-born energy morphed into a trailblazing sound that pushed boundaries and carried the pulse of the streets through each voice. Zlatan stands in the middle of that arc, both student and teacher. “Street music has come a long way,” he says. ”From Terry G to Olamide, Myself, Naira Marley, Shallipoppi, ODUMODUBLVCK, and Asake, change is constant,” he says. 

 

What has seemingly defined his second arc is a willingness to collaborate across the board. Zlatan particularly embraces collaboration with younger artists because others gave him chances when he was coming up. Today, the music scene is saturated, attention spans are shorter, and artists are expected to release new material constantly. Zlatan moves through it with a patience shaped by time. He finds joy in the rise of new Street-Pop artists, seeing in them the same restless fire that once kept him awake. 

Fame once came with fearful shadows. The fear of slipping back, of watching it all disappear, used to haunt him. But Zlatan learned to turn pressure into perspective. Starting his own label in 2020 was an act of gratitude, a way to give others what he once wished for. “Everyone’s on a different level, like cars in traffic,” he says quietly. “You just have to move at your own pace.” It’s a lesson he carries into every song, every night in the studio that stretches until morning. ‘Symbol of Hope’ feels like the sum of a long-winding journey, a mirror held to a boy who once failed an exam, lost a dream, and found a new dream in melody. Through it, Zlatan extends his hand to those still climbing, hoping to help them make sense of the journey. 

Review: ‘Industry Machine’ by ODUMODUBLVCK

ODUMODUBLVCK’s ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ arrives on the back of the most aggressive, drawn-out rollout campaign in recent Nigerian music history. Snippets from the album and its titular track date back to last year; there have been multiple linkups with Premier League stars to whom ODUMODUBLVCK, ever the football aficionado, gave branded jerseys; an entire other project, the 16-track ‘THE MACHINE IS COMING,’ released in March, intended to whet appetites of expectant fans and raise their anticipation for the album’s arrival.

The album itself underscores just how much of a sprawling opus it is intended to be—23 tracks long, fitting in 23 guests drawn from everywhere from Lagos to London, representing every genre from Afrobeat to Drill. There’s a lot of tough talk that ODUMODUBLVCK has placed behind the album, mostly in the form of half-braggadocios, half-prophetic tweets announced with his signature all-caps-locked audacity over X, so there is very little margin for failure, and he knows it. The result is an album that is very much aware of the expectations that lies before it. 

ODUMODUBLVCK succeeds in handling them mostly well. The biggest hurdle was always going to be releasing an album that can channel the ferocious and combative spirit he possesses, while holding on to the velvety melodies for which he receives the most commercial success. The tracks that attempt to balance this have always gone on to become chart-toppers and fan-favourites—“DOG EAT DOG,” “PITY THIS BOY,” “BLOOD ON THE DANCE FLOOR,” “LEGOLAS,” and now “INDUSTRY MACHINE.” 

 

‘INDUSTRY MACHINE,’ save for its titular track, deviates from this formula, as ODUMODUBLVCK attempts a split of his sound and personality across the album; with a handful of uncharacteristically soft-spoken, sing-songy melodies directed towards a romantic interest that must be the recipient of his renewed infatuation—“BABY RAINDEER,” “CANDY MUSIC,” “BANZA BOY,” “MY ANGEL,” and “2 PEOPLE”—while the same album harbours the usual machete-slinging, enemy-cursing, booming vigour that ODUMODUBLVCK directs towards his enemies. It makes for uneven pacing at times, but ODUMODUBLVCK’s attempt to accommodate all sides of his personality ultimately broadens his image beyond what has been painted over the three years of his popularity.

Being at the top of the game for three years, too, means that a certain level of familiarity begins to develop, with the sound and with the persona. ODUMODUBLVCK is hardly the artist to switch eras for new projects—at least not in broad strokes—so ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ attempts innovation mostly via its production. You see it at a glance of the album’sproduction credits. There’s a lot less from long-time collaborator UCee (“DOG EAT DOG” and “KUBOLOR”) and nothing at all from Jimohsounds (“BLOOD ON THE DANCE FLOOR”) or TrillXoe and Johnwav (“DECLAN RICE” and “FIREGUN.”) With these creators’ absence goes some of ODUMODUBLVCK’s signature ‘Okporoko rhythm,’ so production sets are a lot more novel and experimental. Declan “Decs” Roberts and Sholz possess the most production credits here, but they are only two of over twenty minds responsible for the soundscape of ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE.’

ODUMODUBLVCK opens fire on “UNAWARE,” the album’s second track, taking as little time as possible to set the record straight on his greviances. “IF YOU LIKE GYM” and “LAYI WASABI” are built on similarly menacing architecture, the perfect platform for him to launch jabs at his opposition: “Take man for joke like say I no sabi/ Layi Wasabi, joke man nothing wey you sabi,” he choruses on the latter, a song cleverly built around the popular Instagram skit maker in one of the many marketing tools deployed for the album. But ODUMODUBLVCK displays some inconsistency in his delivery: “CANDY MUSIC” sports a soothing chorus but is let down by a particularly weak rap verse. 

 

Across the project, the Abuja-based rapper tries to maintain a consistent level of antagonism towards his enemies, but he runs the risk of sounding repetitive. To avoid this, he brings on board several rappers who share a similar venom. Modenine arrives guns blazing on the reimagined “IF YOU LIKE GYM,” coming for rappers who outsource their lyrics: “AI help write your rhyme, Jadrolita/ Gimme a kilometre, dress back biko/ My rhyme book got a four-digit pin keycode.” Reminisce flows in sleek Yoruba on “LAYI WASABI,” hitting hard against fellow rappers with a similar vigour. More than just calling for backup in his rap disses, ODUMODUBLVCKtapping into older eras of Hip-Hop accords ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ a genuine Nigerian Rap pedigree that eluded even ‘EZIOKWU’ and ‘THE MACHINE IS COMING.’

As he sets his gaze on his rap credentials, he undoubtedly has an eye on commercial success, as in Nigeria’s music ecosystem, those are often mutually exclusive. An album this large gives some room for leeway with that, being able to fit in so many Hip-Hop numbers yet leave room for earworms that will be the staple for more casual listeners. By some combination of his congenial nature, an active team and perhaps a degree of sheer luck, ODUMODUBLVCK secures both Wizkid and Davido on his guestlist, a feat not achieved in recent years, and one that allows him to enjoy both the supportive and competitive aspects of music stanship to his advantage. 

Wizkid’s “BIG TIME” is more up to the album’s speed—delivered over a steady Hip-Hop bounce, and featuring Wizkid as close to rap as he’ll ever get. It does run a little longer than it really should, as Wizkid takes the reins, walking back old memories: “Causing kasala since when I buss up on the scene/ Make you show me something wey man e never see/ Yeah, I been dey hustle, yeah, my brother till it big/ Say mama go kpai, omo, aje, I no believe,” but nobody asks Wizkid to trim down a verse.

For “GROOVING,” ODUMODUBLVCK goes in an entirely different direction, deviating from the album’s Hip-Hop template to deliver its most Afrocentric song, over which Davido and Seun Kuti are particularly well-fitted, warping to provide a mellow groove that displays a different side to ODUMODUBLVCK. It is this same form he assumes for his softer, love-laced tracks. “BANZA BOY” begins as a solemn, heartfelt devotion to a lover: “I just wanna ride, like die/ My hands in the sky, high high/ Talk to me like you’re mine, my wife/ The look in your eye, so fine.” It’s the same impulse that he carries across to “BABY REINDEER.” For a man who has built a reputation for being raw and vicious with his flow, being able to create genuine love ballads speaks to a hidden vulnerability.

 

‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ does, however, also allow for an alarming degree of excess. It carries the weight ofthe many parts of him he wants to show and the expectation it intends to fulfil. It means a few songs become unremarkable, because of oversaturation. A few tracks across the album’s second half—”BAGGIO,” “BOMBASTIC ELEMENT,” “GHETTO MAN YUTE”—suffer from this effect. His rich feature list also means that sometimes ODUMODUBLVCK makes decisions that stifle the impact of some of his biggest coups. 

What he has not compromised on is extracting the very best verses from his guests. Skepta is underused but effective on “ADENUGA;” Saweetie and Justin Quiles are immaculate on the electric “MARADONA;” PsychoYP is a perfect complement on the soft-bouncy “TIFFANY;” Ayo Maff and Smada make small but significant contributions to “EJOR;” and Patoranking and Chike bring their respective flavours to “DO YANGA” and “MY ANGEL” respectively. 

Ultimately, ODUMODUBLVCK is the centrepiece of ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ and he steers its direction. It is to his credit that the album maintains a level of cohesion and quality across so many tracks and contributors. ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ is, by some technicalities, a debut album, as ‘EZIOKWU,’ ‘EZIOKWU UNCUT’ and ‘THE MACHINE IS COMING’ were labelled mixtapes despite their marketing and arrangement suggesting otherwise. 

 

With ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE,’ ODUMODUBLVCK finally arrives on a project worthy enough to be uncategorically labelled an album. It’s easy to see why—the LP is robust on features, pristine in production and rhyming quality, and possessing answers to the questions of his Hip-Hop credentials that have trailed him for as long as his mainstream career. It does get bloated and repetitive in places, but ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ is ODUMODUBLVCK’s powerful statement of intent and a significant jolt to Nigeria’s Hip-Hop scene.

Listen to ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ here. 

JELEEL! Will Not Be Boxed

Posted on by Shirley Ahura

“JELEEL, yeeeah!” Belched out like a battle cry on the opening sequence of “RHUDE GYAL!”–so strong a contender for song-of-the-summer that it got a facelift in the form of a coveted Darkoo remix –the piercing adlib welcomes you to the wild and wonderful world of JELEEL! If you’ve been doom-scrolling at all lately, then this trademark tag has likely burrowed itself in your brain ​like an earworm, much like Rema’s anthemic “another banger!” or J Hus’ iconic “Hustla, baby.”

If not? Here’s everything you need to know about the Nigerian-American taking the internet by storm, one chaotic TikTok at a time. Buckle up, it’s about to be a bumpy ride. Enter Abdul Jeleel Yussuf, better known as JELEEL!, the stage-flipping, larger-than-life rapper, singer, and producer who has become Gen Z’s beloved Boy Next Door almost overnight. With a combined fan base of 5.2 million followers, built almost entirely online, JELEEL! has established a chronically online presence. 

 

On Instagram, he can be found taking For You Pages by storm, appearing often shirtless and screaming, flipping through the algorithm with raw, unfiltered energy. Over on TikTok, he’s baked a stroke-of-genius strategy into his promo rollout: injecting his explosive tracks in an unrelenting stream of viral content and trending videos. No label budget. No formula. Just pure vibes, and it’s working.

Standing tall at six-feet-two, the 29-year-old Rhode Island native is gearing up to be Africa’s next giant. A musical nomad, his sound seems to reside somewhere in ‘The Upside Down,’ a wacky blend of Rap that’s sometimes Trap, rage that rocks and rolls, and Punk that is simultaneously Afropop. Diasporic as it is homegrown, he stitches together fever-pitch emo vocals with Yoruba and English, seamlessly bridging his two worlds together. His visuals drip in nostalgic, Nollywood steeze with oiled-up, brown-skin baddies taking centre stage as love interests embracing a youthful, Y2K aesthetic.

Beyond the digital realm, JELEEL! is resonating with a cult following that craves cultural representation without creative limits. His presence is raw, his sound is rebellious, and his ascent is proof of what a new generation of African artists can achieve: a rallying movement for the misfits who seek to break the mould. One that chases the off-the-cuff approach over clout, raging against the machine of the mainstream to foster a new wave and an alternate worldview. JELEEL!’s campaign is fun, quirky, culturally rooted, and unapologetically loud. 

 

 

First off, who is JELEEL!?

JELEEL! is…Jeleel, yeah! Jeleel is a unique character. He’s a glitch in life. 

Why do you say that?

Because people don’t understand me, but they understand me. I’m a juxtaposition. When I’m singing on the track “BANANA!,” “O por, o por, o por,” it shouldn’t make sense cos I’m singing so high, but I’m this big guy. I think people are l still trying to figure me out. They’re like: “Who is he? Where did he come from? Why does he sound like that? Why is he big? How can he backflip? Where is he?” I like that, though, because I don’t want to be too accessible. You see me and then you don’t, almost like a superhero. 

How does it feel to be a glitch in the music industry?

I feel like God put me on this Earth to fuck shit up in a good way, you know? I tweeted something the other day like: “Can you make it as a global act if you don’t have a machine behind you?” A lot of people were like, “No, you can’t nowadays.” Some people were like, “Yeah, you.” JELEEL! is like an anti-hero in the music industry. He shows love to everybody, but at the same time, he’s still aware of who he is. JELEEL! doesn’t make sense, but he does.

Your whole aesthetic feels like one big throwback to simpler times. Who were some of your favourite steeze icons growing up?

I’m a ’90s baby, so I like Y2K stuff a lot. I loved watching WWE. Jeff Hardy and Rey Mysterio. I loved their style. Jeff Hardy always rocked some crazy clothes. A lot of mesh, a lot of JNCO jeans, he was always on some punk shit and I loved that. I loved watching all these Nigerian guys like Danfo Drivers, D’Banj, and Terry G. I love what they wore. They had these crazy wrap-around shades that were rimless, and they always had the big ass earrings on. I love that style. I feel it’s slowly coming back.

 

How would you describe your sound?

Very futuristic. Growing up, I listened to 50 Cent, DMX, but also a lot of the punk guys: Sum 41, Limp Bizkit, Paramore, and Blink 182. My sound is versatile. It’s a mix of punk, a mix of Afro, a mix of disco, R&B, and maybe some trap as well. It can range from a very high pitch to a low alto. I don’t think anybody sounds like me. I’m like a unicorn; I don’t feel I’m underground. I don’t fit into any space. I’m kind of just in my world. 

You’ve been leaning a lot more into Afro-inspired sounds while still keeping that high-energy Rage DNA. What’s driving this sonic evolution?

Because I was doing the rage stuff before this, people were so shocked like: “Oh, how did he switch to this [Afro-fusion]?” And do it successfully, and be independent. I feel like I can always change my sound when I want. It’s like a superhero power. I can always shape shift. That’s not easy to do, but if I could do it once, I could do it again and again. 

You’ve built a massive following independently, with no major label backing. What inspired your DIY approach?

Every time I would work with a label or anything like that, it never would work. But every time I do it myself, it works for some reason. I think your creative vision is between you and God, and when you get a label in between that, that kind of disrupts that; you’re just doing yourself a disservice. It should never be that. I’m a creative, and I need it to just be me, God, and the masses. 

Your TikTok strategy went off. Was it planned or instinctual, and how do you see social media as part of your artistry?

Thank God for TikTok. It’s a really good algorithm that caters to people who might like the music. I was just posting memes on my music, because I felt like a lot of people needed to hear it; they didn’t know about it, and it was a way to get it out. Even from the US, being able to attack the UK or Africa is crazy. Because how are you doing that? It’s kind of crazy. 

What’s something you wish people knew about your story so far?

Doing this independently, it’s not easy. People just assume, “Because he has a million followers, he’s rich, he’s popping.” It’s not like I have an investor giving me money. Some days I won’t eat. Some days, we have to sleep in a car. Even now, I  just came to London on a whim because I saw “RHUDE GYAL!” was connecting. So I said, let me just come here and show face. You never know what could happen.  Luckily, Alhamdulillah, it’s working to my advantage. 

 How important is it for you to create across and connect, both the continent and diaspora?

When I blew up with the diving shit, I felt like a lot of people were telling me who I am and what I should do. I’m an African. I’m Nigerian. So being told to keep making rage music is going against who I am as a person. I come from a Punk background, but love Afro shit. That’s me, that’s who I am. That’s my identity, that’s my core sound. I was even doing Afro shit before the Rave shit. So, I think I’m just going back to who I am as a person. I don’t need to conform; I’ll bring the worlds together. I’m doing what I want to do, and I love that.

 

How does Nigeria show up in your artistry?

In Nigeria, they love me. I mean, the people do. I don’t think the labels in Nigeria like me. The labels in Nigeria love no one [laughs]. I’m doing my marketing on TikTok, and Nigeria is pay-to-play. So they probably think: “Why is this kid just posting memes to his music, and people are listening and it’s blowing up?” 

Honestly, though? Whoever understands the music, they understand it. Music for me is spiritual. I’m a Muslim, so I grew up reading the Quran. When you read the Quran, you’re reading it melodically. Whether I’m talking about nyash shaking or not, it still gives you something… like a feeling. 

Talk to me about ‘NYASH WORLDWIDE!’

Yeah, I love nyash [laughs]. I thought about calling my project something else. I was like, people know the word nyash, but it’s not a worldly word. So, I thought, let me make it worldly. It’s not like, too serious, right? People be taking themselves too seriously. It’s a fun project. I’m talking about nyash and sex and gyal and love and summer vibes. So I was like, ‘NYASH WORLDWIDE!,’ that’s fun.

What’s next for JELEEL!?

I want to be the biggest artist I can be, period. And I feel like I could do that. “RHUDE GYAL!” is crossing over slowly, but I need it to be worldwide. So, I’m just really focused on promoting it and getting it to the right places. I want to help people with my music, to give people positive energy. Any way I can help people with that is a blessing. I started making music because I love to make music. It wasn’t for money or anything. I just love to create. I want to just give people hope that: “If Jeleel! could do it, I could do it.” Independently too. 

Vlisco celebrates Seydou Keïta Exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

Popular Dutch textile printing company Vlisco was recently announced as the lead sponsor for ‘Seydou Keïta: A Tactile Lens,’ an ongoing North American exhibition of the iconic Malian photographer.  Since its inception decades ago, Vlisco has created a rich legacy in African fashion with its iconic printed fabrics, some of which have been featured in Keïta’s famous Bamako studio portraits over the years. 

Vlisco’s sponsorship of this landmark exhibition, which opened on October 10 at the Brooklyn Museum, further establishes its indubitable legacy while also reaffirming its commitment to keeping heritage alive and celebrating its impact on global creativity. 

“For over a century, Africa has inspired Vlisco’s creativity, and that bond continues to guide us today,” Perry Oosting, CEO of Vlisco Groups, shared in a statement. “Sharing a legacy with Seydou Keïta reminds us of the transformative power of African artistry to shape global culture. Working alongside Catherine McKinley, Trevor Stuurman, and Sarah Diouf reaffirms our commitment to honouring the voices and vision that define our story.”

The exhibition features some of Keïta’s small vintage prints alongside the larger modern versions. It also features never-before-seen film negatives as well as a selection of garments, jewellery, and textiles similar to those that were often featured in his images. The show runs from October 10, 2025, to March 6, 2026.

Shona’s Debut, “For Her,” Is A Tribute To Women Who Refuse To Stay Silent

Posted on by The Jide Taiwo

To understand what drives Shona, start with her hands, not her voice. The Nigerian-born artist, born Boma Beddie-Memberr, has been drumming since she was a child in church. The drums came before the lyrics, before the beats, before the idea that music could be a career. “It started with rhythm,” she’s said before and that makes sense. Because even now, at every level of her artistry, rhythm is what grounds her.

Shona contributes to the collaborative “For Her” (deluxe) album, a collective project featuring various artists from the Voice2Rep 2020 cohort united in addressing women’s rights through music. Her two singles, “He for She” and “End the Cycle,” showcase her commitment to this important cause while demonstrating her unique artistic voice. Across these tracks, Shona transforms rhythmic foundations into powerful narratives, layering Afrobeat percussion, Afrofusion and Hip-Hop cadences into something that sounds both deeply Nigerian and borderless, contributing to the album’s broader mission of amplifying voices for gender equality.

What makes it work goes beyond the fusion, because in modern Nigerian music, fusions are not a novelty. But the intention of fusing these specific elements helps deliver the message in her music, which makes it connected to something larger: purpose.

Shona isn’t new to any of this, though to some she might seem like she’s just emerging. Her musical story started decades ago in church fellowships, long before the digital era of virality. However, she has also lived several lives outside of music — earning a B.Tech in Information Technology, a Master’s degree in Urban Design, and building a solid career with the UK’s Department for International Trade. It’s an unconventional artist profile, and she knows it. In an age that romanticizes the “all-in” creative, Shona is living proof that art can coexist with responsibility. 

On “End the Cycle,” that balance is audible. The track opens with a percussive loop that feels both global and intimate, like something you might hear at an Amapiano rave that turns into a wave of social messaging. Her delivery is calm, deliberate, and quietly commanding. She’s not scolding; she’s declaring a determination to break through the so-called glass ceiling in society that holds women back. The track’s title brings to mind the United Nations gender quality initiative, but it is Shona’s delivery that keeps it from becoming a moralizing PSA. In that sense, it transforms the message into a relatable and memorable mantra.

Then comes “He for She,” where her voice turns from persuasive to urgent. It starts as a startling story of a girl who has been disadvantaged from childhood, a tale as common as time, especially in African countries, where the girl child is groomed for domestic life as opposed to boys, who are typically raised to be catered to by the girl. The track swells slowly, anchored by a syncopated Afro-house beat and a Reggae-tinged bassline that feels cinematic. She raps, while Nanya Ijeh sings the hook, urging you to lean closer and listen to her message. The song wrestles with generational trauma, with the idea that violence, emotional or systemic, is cyclical until someone dares to interrupt it. Every bar and beat points back to Shona’s belief in art as action. You can hear her Worship Artistry Diploma training from Bethel Music College in the way she treats music like a sermon.

There’s also a subtle defiance in how she moves between genres in these two singles, which also shows the versatility in her sound. “He for She” and “End the Cycle” don’t fit neatly into Afrobeats, Reggae, or Hip-Hop. It borrows from all three but obeys none. The Afrobeat elements come through in percussion and give the songs pulse and urgency. The Reggae shows up in the opening bars of “He for She,” and Hip-Hop gives her the license to speak directly, to assert herself in a field that has historically sidelined women drummers and MCs alike. While in “End the Cycle” feels like Afrofusion and trance to an extent. You can hear both grit and grace in her sound: she’s tough, but she’s not hard. There’s warmth even in her sharpest moments, as though she’s too secure in her calling to compete.

It helps that her technical chops back up her message. Influenced by drumming greats like Tony Royster Jr., Calvin Rodgers, and Carlin Muccular, Shona’s playing is fluid and conversational. She’s got Gospel’s discipline, Afrobeats’ drive, and a Jazz musician’s instinct for space.

But the real story here is the mindset, not just the music. Shona is quietly rewriting what it means to pursue music as a woman of faith, intellect, and multiple ambitions. The music industry today appears to be hyper-focused on virality and clout. Meanwhile, music with substance (both in messaging and composition) outlasts virality every time.

In the end, Shona’s debut on “For Her” Album feels less like a debut and more like a statement of philosophy. It’s the sound of an artist who’s not waiting for permission to belong, because she’s already built her own stage from where she’s bound to reach the world.

Listen to “For Her” here.

Lojay’s Debut Album, ‘XOXO,’ Is A Collage Of Feelings

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

Lojay’s debut album ‘XOXO’ is finally here. The long-awaited project, which had been pushed back on a number of occasions, was initially slated for a late August release after the Grammy-nominated singer first announced its imminent arrival in July. ‘I put my heart into this,’ he shared on social media shortly after the album’s release at midnight. ‘I hope you all love it as much as I loved creating this body of work.’

The “Monalisa” crooner had been working his way up to this moment all year long, building significant momentum behind what’s undoubtedly one of the more anticipated Afropop projects in recent memory. The album’s lead single, “Somebody Like You,” arrived in February, and it was followed up by the Odeal-assisted “Mwah,” which came just two months after. 

The album’s third single, “Tenner,” arrived with the album’s official announcement in July. A few weeks later, the singer showed up on Adekunle Gold’s “Bobo,” delivering the song’s standout verse before appearing on frequent collaborator Sarz’s latest release ‘Protect Sarz At All Cost.’ He also announced an upcoming tour to support his new album, kicking off with a show in London on November 18th. 

 

‘XOXO’ arrived with 14 tracks, including the pre-released singles, and a couple of complimentary features from the likes of Tyla, Victony and Colombian singer and producer Feid. Tracks like “Memories,” the duet with the South African popstar, “Shiver,” “Suru,” and P.Priime-produced closer “Alright” are instant standouts on the album. 

Aside from P.Priime, who the singer seemed to have developed a fruitful creative relationship with of late, Lojay enlists a a host of other producers like Black Culture, Louddaaa, TSB, Sarz, SKY, to help bring his debut album to life. 

Listen to ‘XOXO’ here. 

Oskido Reimagines Legacy With The ‘Afro House Heritage Project’

Posted on by Mayuyuka Kaunda

As one of the pioneers of South Africa’s most impactful iteration of Dance music, Oskido has had his hands on more than just vinyl and decks. Since contributing to the birth of Kwaito at the dawn of the 1990s, the artist, christened Oscar Mdlongwa, has had his finger on the pulse of South African house music trends. Omnipresent across eras, Oskido also played a significant role in the careers of household names such as Black Coffee, DJ Maphorisa, DJ Tira, Boom Shaka, and Mafikizolo. 

It’s with this impulse that his ‘Next Gen’ album saw him align with Amapiano’s upcoming stars, and now on the ‘Afro House Heritage Project (A Tribute to Legacy and the Future of Dance),’ Oskido teams up with a cross-generational cast of producers to reimagine his catalog. The first installment of the ‘Afro House Heritage Project’ attempts to figure out what new directions African Dance music can take by offering a remix pack of the Candy Tsamandebele-featuring  “Tsa Ma Ndebele.”

 

Zimbabwean DJ and Afrotech maestro, Dr Feel, leads the way, steering Oskido’s massive hit into new, electronic-tinged territories. While the catchy refrains remain core to the track’s foundations, Dr Feel’s production folds them into sinewy basslines, thrusting claps, and rhythmic percussion. Manoo and Atmos Wav also take the reins, with their own interpretations of the song.

These invitations to look into the past, however, aren’t signs of waning enthusiasm or inspiration. “I’ve been part of the culture and I’ve seen different genres emerging,” Oskido tells NATIVE Mag. “So, I thought to go back to tracks I did years ago and bring them back to life into what’s happening now, which is Afrohouse.” A cultural icon, musician, producer, and DJ with fingerprints across Kwaito, Tribal House, Afropop, Hip-Hop, and Gqom, Oskido’s spirit of curiosity has helped him stay at the forefront of African Dance music through the years.

 “I live and breathe music, so I like experimenting,” he says. “I like to be teachable.” That sense of openness shines through on a discography shaped by collaboration, and is palpable in how the ‘Afro House Heritage Project’ brings together more names like AMÉMÉ, Mpho.Wav, Nkosazana Daughter, and Atmos Blaq. “They are young people who are making waves in their scenes,” Oskido says. “I learn from them and they learn from me, so it’s a two-way street.” 

 

Central to this project is Oskido’s ongoing commitment to inter-generational musical conversations, most recently established through DJ Sliqe’s sampling of “Tsa Ma Ndebele Kids.” Reworked by the South African Hip-Hop DJ and producer on his Bangerville EP, the song is recontextualized and served to a brand new audience in all its 808-leaning glory. “He grew up listening to this music just like the producers on my project,” Oskido explains. “He put his own touch on it and gave it more life, and that’s the beauty of music. We have to do this more with our African music!” 

The ‘Afro House Heritage Project’ promises further exchanges of this nature by reimagining Oskido’s music in the same way he has reinvented himself across decades. “For me to be in the industry for this long, I’ve had to be able to reinvent myself,” Oskido says. “But we’re also reinventing the sound, you know? Some generations danced to this sound years ago, and now we want to share it with the world.” 

The sound he refers to influences the likes of Bacardi, Amapiano, Gqom, and Afrotech and has soundtracked everything from late nights on dancefloors to sticky afternoons at taxi ranks. Now, it’s firmly part of a nation’s DNA. The  ‘Afro House Heritage Project (A Tribute to Legacy and the Future of Dance)’ is a symbol of this journey into ubiquity, from past to present, for both the genre and Oskido himself. 

What is the ‘Afro House Heritage Project’ all about?

The project is about bridging the past with the future. I’ve taken songs from my catalog that shaped an era and reimagined them with some of today’s most exciting Afrohouse producers. The goal is to celebrate African heritage, reintroduce these classics in a global Afrohouse language, and show the younger generation that our history is not something to look back on. It’s something to remix, reimagine, and carry forward.

What is the secret to your longevity, and how do you stay relevant across so many musical eras?

For me, the secret has always been curiosity and humility. I have never stopped being a student of the game. Each generation brings new sounds, new energy, and I choose to collaborate, to learn, and to evolve with them. At the same time, I stay grounded in my own identity and roots. That balance between respecting where I come from and embracing what’s coming next has kept me relevant.

 

How can our heritage as Africans help us become more innovative?

Our heritage is the biggest source of inspiration. Africa has rhythm, stories, traditions, and a spirituality that the world connects with. When we tap into that, we don’t have to imitate; we innovate naturally. Innovation comes when you are confident in who you are and use your roots as a springboard to create something new and universal.

Did you stumble upon any great memories while re-imagining this music?

Yes, absolutely. Revisiting classics like “Tsa Ma Ndebele” reminded me of the magic of those sessions, the community we built, and the energy that inspired people at that time. It also reminded me of how music carries emotions. You can feel the joy, the struggles, and the dreams we had when we made it. It’s like opening a time capsule, but now you get to give it a fresh voice for today’s audience.

What does memory mean for someone who describes their catalog as a library?

Cultural memory means preserving the soul of our people and passing it on through music. When I say my catalog is a library, I mean it’s a living archive of sounds that document not only my journey but also the story of South African and African music. A library is not static; it’s a place people keep coming back to, to learn, to reflect, and to build on. That’s how I see my work.

Listen to “Tsa Ma Ndebele” here. 

uNder Spotlight: Lusanda Found Her Voice By Being Herself

Posted on by Takudzwa Nyambi

Listening to certain musicians takes you down a familiar path with their vocals. I remember the first time I heard Lusanda Ngcobo’s soothing voice as I was staring at my screen, watching TikToks in a crowded café in Harare. Before me were deadlines, a warm cup of coffee, and the noise of a slow but busy Sunday in 2023. Then her cover of OutKast’s “Hey Ya!” appeared on my feed.  Angelic, commanding in its softness, the kind of voice that makes you freeze mid-scroll. That day, the democratic tastemakers of TikTok had already spoken: Lusanda was special. The viral engagement on her post was enough evidence. 

Two years later, I found myself speaking to her as she completes her degree in Theatre and Performance, with a focus on choreography, at the University of Cape Town. Dance has played a major role in shaping the person she is, but in this fresh chapter, she is more recognized for her music. Growing up, Lusanda always kept her creative juices flowing, balancing her time between ballet classes and choir practice. 

From a young age, Lusanda nurtured her talent with ambitions of becoming an entertainer. The same young woman who sang covers from her bedroom now has credits with Uncle Waffles, Manana, and Mörda. As I stare at my screen and chat with Lusanda via Zoom, I can hear the passion in her voice and the confidence of an artist who will continue to share her gift with the world. 

 

Lusanda was born in Durban, arguably one of the continent’s busiest ports and a landmark celebrated as a recognized talent factory in South Africa. Over the last two decades, Durban has produced household names such as Black Coffee, Zakes Bantwini, Shekhinah, and Nasty C, with Lusanda being the latest star to emerge from the coastal city. Although her story started in Durban, she moved to Johannesburg, the country’s economic hub, in search of better opportunities. 

It was in Johannesburg that she was exposed to the arts at a young age. As a child, Lusanda grew up with marimbas, choirs, and a deep discipline in ballet. “It’s always music,” she tells NATIVE Mag. “My family’s very music-oriented, so I was always in the arts. I did ballet, modern dance, and Jazz, but my focus was dance because it required so many hours of training.”

Already conscious of her talent, Lusanda’s ambition was to make it as an entertainer. This inspired her to enroll at the University of Cape Town to study theatre and performance. Balancing music and dance, her first big break came on TikTok in 2023. A spontaneous, half-bored cover of Outkast’s “Hey Ya” recorded in her living room went viral. “I think I was just me. I looked like everyone else at home, singing in their rooms for comfort or to soothe,” she says. “That’s what resonates with people the most on my TikTok and actually everywhere in my music.”

That authenticity has become her secret weapon. Even as she trains with the precision of a ballerina, Lusanda is intent on letting her two worlds–dance and music–mesh seamlessly. “Ballet has been a Eurocentric art form for many, many years,” she explains.  “So, seeing more Black ballerinas putting their African identities into it has been very interesting. Even just doing the technical moves of ballet as a Black woman is saying something.”

Her training as a ballerina equipped her with discipline and the pursuit of perfect craftsmanship. This is something she has carried on to her music. Her sound is dynamic with elements of Pop, Soul, Jazz, R&B, and even Amapiano being explored with a high level of rigor. In  2024, she found herself in the studio with Manana and Uncle Waffles working on “Echoes.” “That was one of my first official sessions,” she says, laughing. “I had nerves, but being in a space with Manana was very settling. Everything flowed, Uncle Waffles was present and putting in her inputs. I love that song because of how easy it was to make and how beautiful it actually is.”

Since then, Lusanda has been on a steady rise.  A debut solo single, “When You’re Around,” a Spotify Singles cover of “Mad World” for the EQUAL Africa program, and nods from artists she once covered have followed but it’s all underpinned by a desire to create. She describes her process as driven by melody-first. “The melodies flow usually after I hear a chord progression, and then in that melody you’ll hear a phrase, something on my mind, and I build from there,” she says. Her talent is drawing in listeners and gaining recognition, with her nod on Apple Music’s Africa Rising Class of 2025 proving she is one of the most exciting young voices at the moment. 

 

Still, Lusanda is thinking bigger than streaming numbers. She dreams of staging performances that combine choreography and live music. Imagine a Jo’burg ballet show where her voice glides over strings, while bodies in motion translate her lyrics into movement. “That’s the dream,” she says simply. I could hear her excitement as this would be a sentimental moment, capturing her life’s work in entertainment. 

Not slowing down on her momentum, she is in the studio writing, experimenting, and creating. Her new single, aptly titled “Progress,” captures her journey. Written over months of trial and error, the song starts with stumbling lyrics before blooming into a mantra: “Growing a garden starts with the seed.” 

When London-based, GRAMMY-nominated producer Sunny Kale sent her the beat over Instagram, Lusanda had no idea just how layered the instrumental’s history was. Alongside Kale’s production sat contributions from Charlotte Day Wilson, BadBadNotGood, and Biako, the two-time GRAMMY winner, whose fingerprints are on Beyoncé’s ‘Cowboy Carter’  and Tyler, the Creator’s ‘Chromakopia.’ Remarkably, the seed of the song had been sitting on Biako’s hard drive for six years.

Upon receiving the beat, Lusanda was hooked. “I was listening to that song every day, at least twice a day,” she recalls, “But I couldn’t write on it just yet. I was really stuck. I just had too many ideas in my head and too many things going on.” It wasn’t until she forced herself to put pen to paper that something shifted. The act of confronting the block in writing cracked her wide open, and the music began to flow.

 

As our time together rounds up,  I realized our conversation always came back to Lusanda’s intention to leave a mark on people beyond her music. The way she could speak for minutes uninterrupted, sharing bits from her creative process and her ambitions for the future revealed her passion for music as a craft, but there is more beyond that. Lusanda also aims to inspire people to lead with authenticity. When I asked what message she’d send if the whole world were listening, Lusanda keeps it simple: “Just do you,” she says. “There’s something that attracts people to you, and it will happen naturally. Your people will find you, and you will find your people.” 

As it is, Lusanda has announced her arrival, and the world is paying attention but she’s only just getting started. 

Listen to “Progress” here.

Best New Music: Zaylevelten Is In Imperious Form On “Zanku”

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

Zaylevelten’s ascent from relative obscurity to rising Rap star has been one of the year’s most exciting and inspiring transitions to witness. Thanks to his active social media presence, there’s a litany of posts online that traces the Ikorodu rapper’s gradual come-up, from recording music with a makeshift, DIY setup–using his phone as a microphone and a nose mask as a pop filter–to having his self-titled EP taken down a little over a year ago due to copyright issues, Zaylevelten has clearly put in his ten thousand hours. 

After a whirlwind year that initially took off with the viral success of “watching me,” the rapper has been building up to the release of his highly anticipated mixtape ‘then 1t g0t crazy,’ which finally arrived a week ago. The mixtape was preceded by another viral single, “Maye,” which helped him garner widespread acclaim from his peers and superstars like Davido, as well as two other sturdy, self-produced singles, “Fly” and “Pawon.”

 

While the 12-track mixtape arrived with a host of other bangers that showcase Zaylevelten’s abundance of dizzying flows and his equally impressive production skills, it’s the perversely infectious “Zanku” that arguably stands out from the bunch. Like a few of his other releases, the rapper had teased a snippet of “Zanku” earlier in the year, and it received an overwhelmingly positive reaction from fans who couldn’t wait for the complete version. 

The full song finds a home four tracks into the mixtape, bookending a powerful opening sequence. The project gets off to a flier with a self-produced quartet of “Wenski,” the Afropop-influenced “Guide Pass,” and “Gbona,” both of which reveal an extra layer to his evolving artistry, before landing on “Zanku.”

At just under two minutes in runtime, the rapper stuffs the track with sticky ad-libs and a host of bars about his desire for guap, racks, and a host of other synonyms you could think of for money. “Legwork when dey press money for me I dey Zanku,” he raps enthusiastically over some eerie synths and Trap-influenced percussion. 

 

What’s most impressive about “Zanku,” and perhaps Zaylevelten’s artistry as a whole, is how effortlessly he’s able to weave multiple languages together while also burning through his infinite stack of flows. There’s an insane passage on the backend of the record where he raps in his native Igbo (“Mmadụ niile na-ekwu maka m, abụ m that good, Abụ m that good”) before fluidly switching flows again and back to English. Passages like this are not mere flourishes; they serve as cogent showcases of his innate talent and the distinctive flavor he brings with his relatable style.

Listen to ‘then 1t g0t crazy’ here.

Review: ‘Protect Sarz At All Cost’ by Sarz

For his album, Sarz assembled a who’s who of Nigeria’s music industry, but it really is just a contact list of the best and closest collaborators he has curated in his nearly two-decade-old career. ‘Protect Sarz At All Costs’ is technically his debut, but this tag says little of the richness of his discography, containing three collaborative projects with Afropop-alternative artists in WurlD, Lojay, and Obongjayar; two albums as the head of his academy for music talents; and an instrumental EP, ‘Sarz Is Not Your Mate.’ 

‘PSAAC’ is named as a third-person acknowledgement of the highly revered status with which he is spoken about in Nigerian music circles, while its guest list offers proof of his standing among the genre’s elite. It is the music itself that ends up justifying both of these. It’s bouncy and fun-filled, versatile yet somewhat cohesive, and when it can, it takes a moment to pass a message from Sarz and his collaborators’ lives. 

 

Being the anthem-creating producer he is, responsible for a deluge of hits across every Afropop era, Sarz’s debut album is understandably partial to the dance floor, but there is enough room for excellent lyricism as well, especially when its more seasoned songwriters take the wheel. Lojay is particularly adept on “Loved Me Then,” fitting into the same sad loverboy archetype he assumed for “Moto,” this time decrying a love that came too late and only after a change in his status: “O fimi se gara, shey you remember?/ But I no go take it personal o.” Qing Madi revisits some of the unreserved commitment of “American Love”—“Pounds and dollar dey for my Beamer/ All I need from you is love—on “In A Mustang,” one of the album’s finest moments in terms of writing and production.

A lot of what makes Sarz’s album tick is in each song finding the midway point between its artist’s individual tendencies and Sarz’s proclivity for danceable music. His earliest imprint as a producer was on a much faster, less measured era of Afropop, in which he was responsible for beats to Street-Pop luminaries like Reminisce’s “Kako Bi Chicken,” Jahbless’ “Jor Oh,” and DaGrin’s “Kondo” as well as for channeling Wizkid’s explosive Afropop ethos on legendary cuts like “Dance For Me,” “Jaiye Jaiye” and the co-owned “Beat Of Life.” 

Still, his versatility means he has been many things to many artists: for Niniola, a facilitator for her early House forays— “Maradona,” “Omo Rapala” and more—and thus arguably a key domino in Amapiano’s eventual takeover in the 2020s. For WurlD, Lojay, and then Obonjayar, the producer was a springboard and co-creator, crafting bespoke EPs with each artist that leaned on their individual strengths. 

‘Protect Sarz At All Costs’ expands on Sarz’s worldbuilding versatility, aiming to extract as much from its contributors as it can while maintaining a fairly streamlined vision for what it wants to sound like, and sometimes that can mean placing a few guests outside their creative niches. There’s no room for Shallipopi’s Benin-influenced Street-Pop or ODUMODUBLVCK’s signature “Okporoko Drill,” so both artists contort themselves to fit into the French-influenced “Mademoiselle,” where a nifty Shallipopi supplies a multilingual chorus and ODUMODUBLVCK, Theodora, and Zeina take on a verse each. 

 

Unlike what has come to be expected of DJ/Producer-led mega-projects like these, not every song is a direct cut from each artist’s discography, which means that a song’s direction can not merely be inferred from its featured artist. Often it works to excellent results, like when the Libianca and Teni-featuring “African Barbie” goes down an unfamiliar road for the pair as they take turns warding a man off the possibility of sex. “Don’t waste no time on this goodie-goodie-goodie,” Libianca croons on a delightfully catchy chorus, while her verses are more explicit: “I know you want me to give up punani/ Unfortunately, I do celibacy/ I cannot just give it to anybody.”

Sometimes, though, Sarz’s decision to fit its artists into his own template does underutilize them, affecting, if not the experience of the song itself, then the feeling of what it could be with a more artist-led direction. Asake is hardly used on the chorus of the “Getting Paid,” leaving Wizkid and Skillibeng to step up to convey the song’s snarly braggadocio. It’s a sharp contrast to how involved he is on the snappy “Happiness,” paired with a suave Gunna. The album seeks to move at a steady pace, so “Billions,” Sarz’s collaboration with Lojay from last year, appears here in a more percussive, danceable form and not the slow-burning version it originally was—Sarz hardly wants to slow the tempo of his debut album.

Sarz is not so keen to show off his production virtuoso that he loses sight of his primary goal of a well-curated album. He avoids complicated sets, beat switches, and jaunts into unfamiliar genres, choosing instead to consolidate on what he does best. It is a feature he has thankfully carried over from his previous collaborative projects, especially the recent ‘Memories That Last Forever 2,’ an album that is closest in spirit to this one. 

Still, there are parts of the album that stagger and fail to leave lasting impressions, like the Fireboy DML-Joeboy transition from “BMF” to “Body,” two perfectly decent Afropop songs in their own right, but lacking the punch to stand out in an album of potential hit tracks. In contrast, Victony’s “Up”—bold, raunchy and built on a base of electronic music—begins with an exhilarating vigour that doesn’t slip for its entire duration. 

 

Like most other collaborative albums, ‘Protect Sarz At All Costs’ struggles somewhat with presenting a consistent theme across songs contributed by a large pool of artists. Sarz attempts to bypass this with an emotionally dense opening track, “Grateful,” that maps out his headspace at this time in his career, with Darwinian wisdom delivered by WurlD.” This track flows seamlessly into “Happiness” to stretch the theme of gratitude even further, but, save for the duo of “Getting Paid” and “Billions,” which project Sarz’s gratitude for life and growth into boastful anthems of strictly financial wins, the thread doesn’t run any longer than that.

There was always going to be a limit to the depth that can be conveyed on a collaborative project, and not many people would tune into a maestro producer’s album expecting philosophical richness anyway, so it makes for an excellent decision that Sarz doesn’t sacrifice sound in a chase for substance, especially when the music is as genuinely fun as it is here. 

A lot of effort has clearly gone into ‘Protect Sarz At All Costs,’ and this goes way beyond the most obvious one of the heavyweights on the tracklist. ‘PSAAC’ is a reminder, for anyone who would dare forget, of Sarz’s industry and ingenuity as a music producer, but more importantly, it is a consolidation of his credentials in his next role as curator of excellent music and musical talent. 

Listen to ‘Protect Sarz At All Costs’ here.

ODUMODUBLVCK’s ‘Industry Machine’ Is Here 

Posted on by The Native

For a while now, followers of Nigerian music have been keenly aware of the concept of the ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE.’ The swaggering phrase has been an integral part of the digital vocabulary of Nigerian rapper and singer, ODUMODUBLVCK, hinting at the highly anticipated follow-up to his 2023 mixtape, ‘EZIOKWU’ which spawned several hit tracks and established his reputation as one of Nigeria’s finest Hip-Hop acts. 

In the two years since ‘EZIOKWU,’ ODUMODUBLVCK has only grown more unstoppable, racing to the top of charts in Nigeria on multiple occasions while showcasing the full breath of his amorphous Okporoko sound on songs like “100 Million” and “NOT ALL THAT” as well as on collabs like “JUJU,” “Funds,” and “Flako.” 

 

2025 has been an active year for the rapper with all expectations that ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ would arrive following the February release of his hit track, “PITY THIS BOY” with Victony. What instead arrived was ‘THE MACHINE IS COMING,’ a 16-track mixtape that found the rapper in both contemplative and combative mood with highlights on “LEGOLAS” and “WAGE WAR.”

Seven months after the the surprise drop of ‘THE MACHINE IS COMING,’ ODUMODUBLVCK has finally released  ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE,’ bringing a thrilling conclusion to months of anticipation with a blockbuster 23-track release that runs through the full gamut of the Abuja rapper’s fascination and beliefs across a variety of soundscapes. 

Throughout  ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE,’ ODUMODUBLCK glides between euphoric party starters (“BANZA BOY, “VINICIUS,” and “GROOVING”) and gritty Rap joints (“UNAWARE,” “IF YOU LIKE GYM,” and “LAYI WASABI.”).  At different turns, he reveals a new layer to his work without losing touch with the uniquely Abuja perspective that broke him through. 

 

Ever keen to spotlight his city, he bridges the gap between London and Abuja on “ADENUGA” with Skepta joining ODUMODUBLVCK and his AntiWorld Gangstars on “ADENUGA,” a grass to grace anthem while “TIFFANY” is a pristine Trap anthem unites ODUMODUBLVCK and PsychoYP once again. Coming two years after ‘EZIOKWU,’  ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ seals ODUMODUBLCK’s reputation as one of the most important acts operating out of Nigeria right now. 

Listen to ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ here. 

What To Expect From ODUMODUBLVCK’s ‘Industry Machine’

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

One of the more recurring talking points that comes up in regular music discourse is the concept of a sophomore slump. This is the idea that artists often produce subpar second releases, especially following the success of their phenomenal debut projects. Take the mercurial Wande Coal for example, whose lukewarm sophomore album ‘Wanted,’ could not match the ingenuity and timelessness of his classic debut ‘Mushin 2 Mo’ Hits.’ Or Burna Boy, who failed to genuinely take off ‘On A Spaceship,’ at least at the time, following the success of ‘L.I.F.E.’ 

In recent times, there have been a few artists who have defied the sophomore curse, building on the success of their debut with an equally accomplished or even better sophomore. Rema’s 2024 sophomore album, ‘HEIS,’ is the strongest in his growing catalogue yet; a dark, compact and forward-thinking project that credibly surpasses its predecessor. His label mate, Ayra Starr, also beat the curse with her coming-of-age sophomore, ‘The Year I Turned 21.’

ODUMODUBLVCK aims to add his name to this illustrious list with the release of his forthcoming album ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE.’ While the project isn’t technically his sophomore – he currently boasts over seven projects under his belt – the critical and commercial success of ‘EZIOKWU,’ his breakthrough album from 2023, makes his forthcoming album feel very much like a definitive sophomore effort. 

 

The rap star wasted no time building anticipation for his new album, as he began teasing it only months after the release of ‘EZIOKWU.’ The quip, ‘The Machine Is Coming,’ quickly became his favourite phrase, putting just about everyone on notice about the imminent arrival of his new album. If his countless tweets and social media antics did not do the trick, he drove home the point with a country-wide University tour and a 16-track mixtape in March, also titled ‘THE MACHINE IS COMING.’ 

A little over a month ago, the Anti-World Gangster head honcho kicked off the ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ era with the release of the viral “2:02 PM IN LONDON (FRESSTYLE)” and shortly after the lead single, “PAY ME.” This past week, he revealed the album cover, the full track list and also released the album’s previously teased title track. Like a few of the rapper’s hits, the single finds a sweet middle ground between his infectious, melody-driven Okporoko rhythm and the type of brazen Rap bars he’s become popular for. 

Given that this unique formula has been instrumental in propelling the rapper’s career, it’s fairly likely that ‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ will feature a few more cuts similar to this, catering to the mainstream audience that has clearly been receptive to this sound. The rapper’s core audience, who favour some of his more straightforward Rap bangers, will likely be catered to as well, as the extensive guestlist, which features names like Skepta, Pa Salieu, Reminisce, Modenine and Giggs, strongly suggests. 

Like a few of his equally innovative peers, ODUMODUBLVCK has been working to advance his craft since his breakthrough three years ago. While his rapping and singing remain sharp as ever, he’s tried to stretch them out on more eclectic production that highlights his ingenuity as well as his range. Take “Automoto” for example, the BNYX-produced slapper placed his ferocious bars and delivery over a buzzy, Rage-rap type beat or “WAGE WAR,” one of the standouts from ‘THE MACHINE IS COMING,’ that paired his sticky melodies with some atmospheric production. 

 

‘INDUSTRY MACHINE’ promises to feature more experimentation from the rapper, as he looks to consolidate his status as one of the more imaginative rappers around. Collaborations with the likes of New York singer and producer Cash Cobain, Reggaeton star Justin Quiles and Saweetie not only indicate the rapper’s global ambitions but also his willingness to step outside of his comfort zone, creating music that showcases his ability to adapt his style across multiple genres. 

In the lead-up to the new album, ODUMODUBLVCK, in usual fashion, has been involved in a couple of skirmishes online, trading pointed jabs with a few of his peers. He sent out warning shots to some of his detractors on “PUSSY NIGGAZ,” a brutish cut from ‘THE MAHCINE IS COMING’ mixtape. The rapper would, however, be looking to settle some of these scores on the new album, as he’s clearly shown that he’s not one to back down in the face of opposition. His new moniker, the Industry Machine, describing the precision and ferocity he’s operated with since his meteoric rise, is one that perfectly encapsulates this unyielding assertiveness, a trait that has placed him in good standing, even as he prepares for another significant moment in his already distinguished career. 

Adekunle Gold Is Finding Uncharted Journeys Inside

Posted on by Folake Ajao

It has been nearly a decade since Adekunle Gold first announced himself with ‘Gold,’ a record that reshaped the possibilities of contemporary Nigerian pop conventions by wholeheartedly embracing influences from Highlife, Fuji, and Juju. Back then, he was a young man staking a claim with vibrant melodies and a bold reimagining of sonic traditions. Today, Adekunle Gold speaks from a different place. The years between have given him a catalog that stretches across genres: five albums that trace his growth, and a life that is no longer only his own.  

His latest album, ‘Fuji,’ is a mosaic of heritage, grief, joy, and uncharted journeys. It is a pilgrimage back to the roots of the man born Adekunle Kosoko, a descendant of kings, a father, a husband, and a sonic alchemist who has spent a decade distilling his soul into music. The journey of an artist is rarely a straight line, and for Adekunle, the path has been a winding one, marked by bold pivots, fearless experimentation, and a willingness to take risks, sometimes against the expectations of those who wanted him to stay within a sound they had come to love. 

 

“Releasing ‘Call on Me’ was when I’d say it was the hardest for me,” he says of the pressure of making his famed sonic switches. “I released it off the back of the ‘Gold’ album, which was a predominantly Highlife sound, and then I dove right into Pop. People were like, ‘What are you thinking?’ But I did it because that’s what my soul was yearning for.” 

The act of embracing change has never been a burden for Adekunle Gold. If anything, it is a natural extension of his outlook on life. He has learned that not every battle is his to fight, and not every moment requires resistance. “Overthinking,” he readily answers when asked what he has had to let go of since his early days. “I used to think the world was against me, like it was conspiring for me to fail. What I realized is that in the grand scheme of things, I don’t matter that much for the universe to conspire against me. I’m the author of my own life.”

That perspective has shaped not just the music but the man. When he speaks of highlights outside the studio, he places family above all else. His voice softens as he recalls marrying his Popstar wife, Simi, and raising their daughter. “My family, marrying the love of my life, having my beautiful daughter, growing, living, making memories,  those are the highlights,” he says.  “I can afford to be a failed musician, but not a failed father or a man. That’s very important to me.” 

In an interesting twist of fate, family has also opened him up to other creative pursuits, providing a wider vision of what artistry can be. “I’m a man of the arts,” he explains. “I’ve designed my album covers, my single covers, sometimes my posters. I’ve been involved in my video direction. Now I’m fully designing. The earrings I’ve been wearing, that’s my design. It’s called Wave. The glasses, too. ”

The sense of intimacy he cultivates extends beyond music and design. In recent years, Adekunle Gold has built a direct channel to fans through his newsletters. For him, they are not marketing tools but bridges of friendship, honest notes sent when there is something to share. “I’ve never wanted to just take and not give back,” he explains. “My newsletter is a form of talking to people, sharing my experiences. I like my fans to know me, to know where the music is coming from, to know the depth of my being. The best part is there’s no pressure. Even when the fans want to hear from me, I don’t just write until I have something to say. I’m grateful I have that community.”

Recently, Adekunle Gold attended the Ballon d’Or, stepping into a world of football which he has always loved. “It felt so good to be in a room where footballers are celebrated,” he says. “People in the public eye are actually real people who go through things, but their life is magnified. Seeing them on stage, watching their speeches, hearing them talk about how rigorous it is to be what they are, it felt very good. Seeing Dembele win, seeing him bring his mom on stage—that was a moment I could relate to.”

This balance of personal and artistic life reaches its fullest expression in ‘Fuji’. Its story began years ago, with the song “Simile,“ written after the passing of his father in 2019. Adekunle Gold kept it close, waiting for the right moment. That moment presented itself on his sixth album.  “This project is the most honest I’ve been since ‘Gold’ and ‘About 30,’” he says. “I wanted to share my life in the past decade, everything I’ve experienced, my grief, my joy, having my daughter, the friendships I’ve lost, my royalty, the new confidence I’ve found. That’s what ‘Fuji,’ the album is.”

 

To create ‘Fuji,’ Adekunle Gold had to return home, not in a nostalgic sense but in a literal and spiritual journey. “ I went back to my palace. My name is Adekunle Kosoko, and if you know history very well, Kosoko was a king in the 1800s,” he explains. “He was the first person to fight the British government when they were trying to colonize. He came back as a king. I was never interested in this history before. When I dug deep in 2023, I realized I’d given my life to only music and nothing more. I wanted to understand where I come from and why I do the things I do. Every time I go to the palace, it feels like coming back to myself. That’s what gave birth to Fuji—finding uncharted journeys inside.”

The 15-track LP is as much about heritage as it is about sound. Adekunle Gold grew up surrounded by Fuji, and traces of it have appeared across his work since ‘Gold.’  With this project, he steps fully into it, presenting it as both a personal and cultural statement. “I need the world to see this beautiful sound that I grew up on,” he says. “It’s the sound of Lagos, the sound that I know. Even if you’re listening to my R&B songs, you’ll hear my tone; it’s Fuji. I’m meant to do it.”

That conviction pushed him into new creative territory, particularly on “Big Fish”, the album’s opener and most evocative track. “For the first time, I said I don’t want loops in production,” he explains. “With most Afrobeats songs, once you hear the beginning, the beat carries on to the end. I’ve been listening to Kendrick, J. Cole, and Drake, and I see how they switch flows. I wanted to try that. I made ‘Big Fish’ four times with different producers. I was heavily involved in production. I reached out to TMXO, told him exactly what I wanted. It took a while, but we got it.”

 

Collaboration has always been a thread in his career, and on ‘Fuji,’ he stretches it further. There are appearances from stars like Davido, but also from younger artists carving their own narratives like TK and Mavo. “I’ve done it since about 2013,” he says of collaborating with a new generation of artists. “I’ve had new artists that people don’t know about on my projects because I genuinely enjoy music. It doesn’t matter your size or reach. If you can add your emotion to a song, then by all means, you’ll be on a song with me. Collaboration serves the music more for me than optics. It’s nice to have a big artist, but when the music’s not good, it’s not good.”

If ‘Gold’ announced Adekunle Gold as an artist of promise, ‘Fuji’ presents him as an artist of depth. It is a record that looks backward to ancestry and forward to possibility. In it lies joy, grief, experimentation, and conviction. Above all, it is the sound of a man who has grown into himself. “I want people to see a man who’s not afraid, a man who’s found himself, a man who will keep on giving a gift that lasts forever, a man who’s sincere.”  

Best New Music: Sarz Is All About His Money On “Getting Paid”

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

It’s quite interesting that music making, a historically collaborative process, has long relegated a number of the practitioners responsible for its moving parts to the background, placing much of the focus on the recording artist. It’s understandable to see how we got here: artists are expected to bring the charm, charisma, and lyrical prowess that tends to captivate the average listener, while songwriters, engineers, and particularly producers, who are arguably as important as the lead artist in the music creation process, are simply names resigned to the credits.

The turn of the 21st century, however, heralded a noticeable shift in this dynamic, with producers beginning to step into the spotlight, actively asserting their creative authority and establishing themselves as integral, recognisable figures in their own right. While heavyweights like Don Jazzy and the late OJB Jezreel came to the fore in the early noughties, it was Sarz–who began to make a name for himself in the early 2010s– that arguably changed the idea of what a super producer is from these parts. 

The Benin-born maverick’s avant-garde spirit and tastemaking and curatorial skills, as well as his unique ability to bring the best out of his collaborators, have made him perhaps the defining producer of the past decade and a half. His solo 2019 release ‘Sarz Is Not Your Mate,’  as well as collaborative tapes with vocalists WurlD and Obonjayar, demonstrated his prowess in not only crafting individual hits but also in meticulously putting together cohesive bodies of work. He brings this ability and wealth of experience to his long-overdue debut album ‘Protect Sarz At All Costs,’ which arrived this past Friday. 

Along with a host of guest appearances from the likes of WurlD, Gunna, Qing Madi, Joeboy, Fireboy DML, Lojay, and Byron Messia, Sarz delivered a host of sturdy records, many of which showcase the ingenuity in his now-favoured minimalist approach. The album’s strongest offering comes three tracks in on “Getting Paid,” an uber-cool affair that brings together Afropop titans Wizkid and Asake, both of whom seem to have developed a creative synergy of late, and Dancehall act Skillibeng. 

 

Sarz provides his collaborators with an impeccable background of bouncy percussion, a captivating guitar loop, and some floating synths. Asake’s concise and crucial contribution is applied judiciously across the entire track, almost like perfectly placed punctuation marks, while Skillibeng and Wizkid, who seem to be incapable of making bad music with Sarz, both deliver standout verses that are certain to reverberate through speakers for months to come. 

Even though “Getting Paid” features a couple of A-listers, Sarz’s contribution to the record is just as integral, if not more so, to its entire appeal. His magic fingers manage to conjure a simple, buoyant atmosphere that combines different conspicuous and subtle elements, casually showcasing the type of understated brilliance that has placed him the the illustrious Afropop hall of fame. 

Listen to ‘Protect Sarz At All Costs’ here.