It’s just another opportunity to do some dope shit. Every day is a new start for fresh ideas.
You’ve previously been heavily involved in the visual arts, but it seems like music is definitely at the forefront of your creative endeavours right now. Is this the case?
Definitely, right now it would seem like this. When I first got to Nigeria, I was more focussed on film and photography. I think everything has its season. There will always be one at the forefront, but it doesn’t mean the rest have died, they’re just in the shadows.
What message do you want to give with your music?
With everything I do, it is an extension of myself. Whatever it is I’m going through: whether it’s peace, love, patience, forgiveness – I want to pass on that understanding to whoever will receive my art.
What role do you feel you play in the Nigerian music scene?
I feel the major role that we all play is bridging the gap between the old and new. To be very honest, the industry is not united at all, especially with the younger generation. We have these conversations everyday amongst ourselves. Everyone wants to fight to get to the top or be the first person to do something, but in reality we should be focussed on getting ourselves all out there. It’s not going to take one man to put Nigeria on the map: it’s going to take a bunch of people who are working hard towards one common goal. We are supposed to be a support system to help each other, and I want everyone that listens to my music to understand what we are pushing for.
What do live performances mean to you?
It should be an extension of your music. I believe that when I put songs or videos, performing them is another way to show a different side to your listeners. It’s so important for artists to be in control of their sets.
Who is your biggest inspiration?
The only person I’ve looked up to [musically] has been Michael Jackson. His work ethic and the actual quality of his work. Another person would be Steve Jobs. Watching the two of them in their different fields just make things work has been very inspiring. But honestly, my own life is a big source of inspiration for me. I always want to motivate myself, to get the most out of everything I do. My current situation always inspires my next move, to get to the level I’m meant to be on.
What are some of the things you are worried about this year?
I’m not worried about anything. I’m more excited about things that are about to happen. It’s an opportunity to create. Jiggy Things Only (laughs).
How do you feel when people approach you about your identity before anything else?
The question about my identity has always been a part of my life. In some ways, I’m used to it. It’s interesting to see the different reactions of people when they find out what my actual gender is. But I don’t mind – it leaves people wanting to know more. They’re researching me, they want to know who Wavy is.
Who are you tipping for 2018?
Myself, really. It’s going to be an amazing year. There’s so much goodness to give and amazingness to experience. I can’t wait.
What would success look like for you at the end of the year?
Success for me is always just self-fulfilment. Knowing that I’ve done my best is the only thing I need.
Yadichinma isn’t the only young female artist whose work is making rave reviews right now, but there are only a few as articulate, charismatic and fully-realised in their work as she is. In an industry full of poseurs and middling artists, propped up by privilege they refuse to acknowledge, being self-taught and free of godfathers or institutional privilege elevates her as a talent to truly root for.
Yadichinma tells me she has always dabbled in art, but she began to take it seriously while pursuing a diploma at the University of Lagos, a degree she eventually switched to visual art in 2017. Almost immediately, she began to attract the attention of Lagos’s art community; she quickly fell under the representation of the Whitespace Agency, who helped expose her to the scene in 2014 and ‘15 through a series of group exhibitions for young artists. In 2016, she was invited to showcase her work at ART X, West Africa’s biggest art fair, then in 2017, she held her first solo exhibition – the first of a handful.
Following exhibitions in Nigeria came international exhibitions in South Africa and France, magazine features, and a personal nomination (from the editor of the Intense Art Magazine) for the Orisha Prize – a prize geared towards financing solo exhibitions for young artists. All this attention would frazzle a lesser artist but Yadi, as she is known to close friends, is pretty unfazed by it all.
” I always think of myself as a channel through which my work comes. If you put light through a red filter, you’ll still get light, but it is going to be red.”
This is how Yadichinma Ukoha-Kalu explains “Birthscapes”. Her most recognizable body of work, “Birthscapes”, which draws on the work of Salvador Dali and Pablo Picasso, is a series of abstract gouache paintings that loosely depict alternative worlds, drawing allusions to the female anatomy and its emissions. This series was the one she entered for the Orisha Prize, and is what branded her as a womanist artist; although she tells us that the designation, while amusing, is inaccurate.
Yadi explains to me that her work is often the result of curiosity rather than an expression of some internal mental state, or catharsis from an emotion. Although this process leads to a relative detachment from the work she creates, as she finds herself moving onto other projects once her curiosity is sated, Yadi is intent on holding onto this curiosity for as long as it continues to seep into her art. Still, accounting for this fluidity, she has taken to documenting and cataloguing her process in a series of physical journals, her Instagram page and digital cubby holes coded by her sister, Daberechi, who is also part of the Native XI 2018. These archives are a way for her to measure her progress as an artist, documenting how far she’s come from a semi-professional artist whose first exhibition was held as part of a collective of emerging artists.
“Recently I feel like I have more dead friends than alive ones.”
She muses when I ask her about her influences. She names some of the regular suspects; Picasso, Dali, and intimates me that she’s chosen them for their experimentation, their vibrant inner lives and their refusal to be pigeonholed into the artist niche. She also mentions Nigerian artists such as Kadara Enyeasi, Nengi Omuku and especially Wura Natasha-Ogunji and Ruby Onyinyechi; a collaborative duo who make colossal collages that reclaim the domestic crafts of embroidery and threading.
Before I can explicitly ask of her thoughts on the future, she tells me she knows what is coming, excusing me from apologising for bringing it up at all. Appreciating the difficulty of being asked to choose one future out of a thousand timelines of possibility, unlike many of her creative counterparts, Yadi surprisingly doesn’t hate being asked about her future. Ultimately, she has decided on a future: the present.
Growing and changing, as she is doing right now, is how she always wants to be.
For me, it’s really a whole new chapter in my story. It’s a chance to be better, to work harder and to be more consistent.
What inspired you to start making music?
When I was younger, I used to be really into fashion, and that was how I got into music; I used to watch these music videos to see the outfits, to see the bling. My mum and her sister used to play CDs all the time at home, literally everything from Craig David to Jay-Z. When I got to high school, I used to write raps but I still didn’t really care about music. Then I heard Naeto C’s album U Know My P. He reminded me of Jay-Z, he was just so cool, and all I wanted to do was be like him. Moving to New York for college years later was when I really started to take music seriously.
What prompted the transition from the trap-slanted King D-O, to the dancehall-inspired Pretty Boy D-O?
Honestly, I’ve felt I’ve always been a rapper and a singer, but for a long time I was only singing on hooks, because my rapping was so much better. I started making Afro-Trap as a way to differentiate my music from the “pangolo” music in 2013. I made these two songs, “Bance” —RIP my brother Olu—and “Gbese”. Even back then, I was still singing, but not many of the tracks made it out. One of the tracks that really helped me break into the Nigerian market was “Tinko Ko”, and I actually wrote it that year. It took me a year to write that song. After that, going from freestyling on youtube tracks to working with a producer like July Drama (producer of “Peter Piper and “Footwork”) definitely shifted me more towards that style of music. But I’m still rapping, man, even “Footwork” has a lot of rapping on it.
Following the success of“Footwork”, do you ever see yourself going back to your former self?
Yeah man, for sure. My tape, Everything Pretty, is going to have a lot of rap on it. Honestly the way I make music, I really believe in the relationship I have with my fans. They give me the confidence to do exactly what I feel is right. For example, “Chop Elbow” doesn’t sound like “Footwork”, but I know my fans will love it and take it far. But I can never stop rapping man.
What role do you feel you play in the Nigerian music industry?
For a long time, I was trying to conform to the commercial sound that was dominating the mainstream, but it just wasn’t me. I really believe in my sound now. I am working to be consistent so that no one can call to replace me. If you want D-O’s sound, you have to call D-O.
What message are you trying to send with your music?
I’m just trying to be a voice of the people. The voice of the regular guy. Whether I’m talking about love on “Peter Piper” or the Nigerian system on “Chop Elbow”, I just want to tell real stories. It’s a spiritual thing.
On “Chop Elbow” you talk about some socio-political issues that frustrate you. What are some of the problems you and your friends are facing this year?
The song was inspired by the police stopping me for having kpoli on me, they wanted me to give them money, but I could see it in their eyes that they were high, too. And when I got back to the studio, I started freestyling about all the things that make me angry. “Poverty, chop elbow/Etisalat, chop elbow/Toll gate, chop elbow/NEPA, chop elbow/Corruption, chop elbow”. These are just the things the average Nigerian goes through, it’s real life shit.
It’s well publicised that you’re a big movie head – I’m a big fan of your Oscar predictions every year. If your music could be the soundtrack to a movie, which one would it be?
I want to hear “Bumvita” in The Notebook with Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams. The bit where they’re reconciling after the big fight, “Bumvita” go enter well.
What does success look like to D-O?
First of all, it’s just making my mum happy. I want to leave a mark on the game. When I die, I want people to remember my name.
Who are you rooting for in 2018?
I’m rooting for our country in general man, we have so much potential. I’m rooting for Santi —I love that guy— I’m rooting for July Drama. I’m rooting for myself.
What do you want out of 2018?
More success and more peace of mind. More life man, I don’t want to lose anyone this year.
The cinema room at the 2017 Ake Books and Arts Festival seemed the unlikeliest place for Bariga Sugar to find an audience. The year’s theme was “The ‘F’ word” – feminism (or female depending on who you asked) – and the room was packed with writers, essayists, activists, and generally just people who negotiated the tricky job of stirring up emotions with words. But by the end of the film, everyone was in tears. Even the film’s director, Ifeoma Chukwuogo.
Though Chukwuogo made her first short film in 2013, she only started sharing her work professionally after she graduated from film school in 2015. In many ways Bariga Sugar is her real debut. First premiered in 2016 at the Africa International Film Festival in Lagos, it has quickly grown into a cult favourite, loved as fiercely by critics as it is praised and shared by viewers. Chukwuogo uploaded it to Youtube for a limited time, but it has since been taken down and returned exclusively to the film festival circuit, popping up most recently at Ake.
How does it make you feel to be seen by many as the most promising director of your generation?
“Nervous. Because [now] people now have very high expectations of me. As an artist, risk is always involved in anything that you do.”
Every young Nigerian understands this perfectly; we are very vocal people, mix that with a deference to “culture”, any ideas that do not run through worn channels are feared and destroyed. But the pressure and the increased expectations are a crucible in which Ifeoma is ready to be tested. Staying consistent and outdoing her previous work are metrics she’s sieved from all the noise around her, and all she is focused on achieving now. She tells me she’s read almost obsessively since she was a child, dabbled in writing during her early teens, before spending her late teens immersed in the rigour of theatre. Filmmaking was a natural progression, because her stories were always visual. Being behind the camera allowed her the omnipresence to fully re-enact her internalised stories in the way she always hoped.
She has been telling stories in some form throughout her life. The process has always been intrinsic to her identity, to the extent that she has given up on separating her work from her everyday life. There were questions and allusions in Bariga Sugar that mirrored her personal life in some way. Bariga (which she conceptualised with her co-producer Ikenna Edumund Okah) was inspired by a friendship that thrives in a bleak environment.
“Friendship can save you, and a good friend can be like a saviour to you”, she explains, as she walks me through the story’s tragic leads, a boy and a girl born to sex workers. But the film is more than that: it explores how the failures of a system can ripple out, irreversibly changing the lives of people who feel far removed from the system itself. The world in Bariga aligns a fantastical world with the one we live in, and connecting us to both is what Chukwuogo does best.
The work she intends to finish and share later this year spans several genres, most notably book adaptations, starting with the ones from her childhood. She mentions Ngozi Achebe’s Onaedo – The Blacksmith’s Daughter, and the narratives from Chimamanda’s The Thing Around Your Neck, and a certain freckled mixed raced Nigerian author whom she asks me to keep a lid on temporarily, so we don’t jinx it. She also wants to collaborate with other filmmakers, building leverage for other emerging writers. But Chukwuogo allows herself some wistfulness when she talks about her laundry list of actors she wants to direct; Somkhele Idhlama for obvious reasons, Fabian Ladoja for his work in the South African drama Jacob’s Cross, David Oyelowo and Lupita N’yongo. There is one more person, a wild card she offers hesitantly, after negotiating with herself.
“By the time I blow enough to afford Meryl Streep, she’ll probably be retired, but yeah, Meryl.”
It is a big dream, but ifeoma Chukwuogo has shown she is built to upend improbabilities.
Sometimes it’s just another day, like what’s all the hype about, you know? But then other times, I’m just like anyone else: I get excited to write that end of year post, [to] throw a party, the fireworks, the champagne and all that stuff. It’s nice to have a day that you cross and it seems like you have a second chance at things.
How did you get into tech?
I think I’ve always known, and the people around me have always known. When I was 10 I thought I was going to be like Dexter, I kept telling people. I think my parents also realised – they were really great at buying stuff that helped. They got me this electrical kit when I was 11, and I used to go round the house making alarms and shit.
What role do you feel you play in the growing tech community in Nigeria?
Some days I feel like I have some sort of responsibility to play a role, but other days I just want to make my dollars, make some cool shit and keep moving forward. If there is one thing to be taken away from Timi’s life in the tech community, it would be: don’t put yourself in a box. I think I’m just trying to show people that there’s a different way to live. You choose your own way. I want to end up as a lecturer. I want to teach, I like teaching people who are just hungry for knowledge. I think I’m going to be responsible for creating a ton of cool shit. Some of it, hopefully, will find its way into your everyday lives.
What are your thoughts on Yaba being the Silicon Valley of Nigeria?
Fuck that! I’m only here because this is the sexiest estate on the Mainland. If they transported this estate to somewhere on the Island, it would break my pocket. In America they have Silicon Valley and it makes sense – companies gravitated there because of the natural environment, and then there was a ripple effect. I don’t know why it feels we have to sell a similar narrative to America. [At first] people said it was because Yaba had fibre optics, but IPNX dey Lekki now. I like Yaba because that’s where I went to university before I dropped out.
What was the university experience like?
I went to Uni-Lag (University of Lagos). Anyone who went to university in Nigeria – whether or not you graduated – can tell you that the education is shit. I don’t thrive in environments that are geared towards cramming rather than actually learning. Maybe it’s my Achilles heel, but I just can’t cram. There were just so many issues with universities in Nigeria, from the syllabuses to the lecturers. My friend Dimeji is a computer scientist, and in his exam, he was asked to write JavaScript. On paper. There are just so many issues. I want to build a peer-to-peer review platform for universities, that will actually be constructive. And it’s not like I don’t understand that there are systemic problems, but I just couldn’t stay there. I was depressed, I was doubting myself, feeling stupid. You start defining yourself by your ability to pass [exams]. My parents tried to understand though. I respect how we arrived at the decision [for me to leave].
How did you get into coding?
I learnt the basics when I was younger, my uncle taught me, but I didn’t take it very seriously. When I started properly was after my first failure at Uni-Lag. I got a 1.71 GPA – you can print this – I actually got a 1.71 GPA. I called my friend Jibola and basically told him, “Fuck school, I need to figure out a path for my life, I want to work.” So he set me up to work on M.I. Abaga’s official website and that was the very first coding job I got paid for. I was honest and told them that I was still learning, but they were into it.
How would you break Bitcoin down to a dummy?
It depends on if said dummy is interested in it as technology or as a financial asset.
As technology, cryptocurrencies basically shift control from central banking powers to the rest of the world. With cryptocurrencies, anyone in the world can verify a transaction has happened – that is inherent in the way it is built.
As a financial asset, it’s really just like any other financial asset that conforms to the standard rules of supply and demand. But right now, it’s just very volatile. To the extent that if someone famous [in the tech world] says “oh this crypto won’t get anywhere”, the price drops. My only piece of advice regarding cryptocurrencies is: Do not spend more money that you can afford to lose.
What does your company Bitkoin Africa do?
Bitkoin Africa right now is a safe platform in Africa to trade Bitcoin without fear of being scammed. We’re just the middle-men. Once we escrow the value,you can trade freely. Right now it’s limited to Bitcoin, but we’re running more coins soon.
What is the future of Bitcoin to the everyday Nigerian/African? Is it more than a get rich quick scheme? The Future of currency?
Honestly, it’s both. It’s nothing like MMM – that comparison really affects me. MMM is just a thing where you pay, and invite other people to pay. Some people saw that there was no value, got in early and bailed fast. Bitcoin could get you rich fast, but it’s more than that. And it’s not just Bitcoin – it could be any cryptocurrency. It’s not quite clear yet which one will be here say, ten years from now.
For the average Nigerian, I just hope that it opens up more access to money – either by replacing money or becoming an integral part of how we transfer money. I hope it makes it easier for a farmer in Zaria to pay someone for goods in Gambia or Kenya, for example. There are other applications like block-chain that aren’t necessarily cryptocurrencies but could really help Nigerians with things like land-ownership. The future is financial inclusion, and I think that’s really where we are heading.
What are some of the issues you and your friends are facing this year?
This may sound like a first world problem, but my house-mates don go buy BMW and na pressure. I’m not going to buy one, but I dey pressured. More generally, man, Nigeria. Nigeria is the problem we all need to watch out for.I don’t even know where to start. We haven’t conquered [bad] roads. We haven’t conquered [the problem of] power. These are just things to live a basic life before we even decide to want more. The police think we’re all yahoo boys. Can’t somebody just be working hard and making one or two tins? It’s hard for young people. In tech, we’ve changed significant things in this country – look at Paystack and Flutterwave. We have a long way to go but there’s just so much against us/When I was living in Shomolu without constant power and internet whilst in Uni-Lag, it was fucked. I’m sure there are so many people more talented than I was who are in worse conditions. It would be so much better if we could just conquer power and internet.
And the reason I did not initially answer with this is that it’s just so normal.
What excites you most about technology today, and five years from now?
For me, the most exciting thing for me right now is that I can build something in my room, and then like 700 people are using it. That’s amazing to me. I just like making things, and I found out early on that software is one of the forms of creation in which the barrier to entry is relatively low. I almost get too excited thinking about the future. Just the fact that our kids are going to be living different lives to the ones we are excites me. Like when our parents were growing up, there was no Uber. You couldn’t book your hotel and flight online, then land somewhere and put it on Snapchat. That just didn’t exist.
Peter Thiel question: What is something you think is true that very few people agree with you on?
The Dark Knight Trilogy is crap. Jay-Z is overrated – he’s a good businessman though.
Who are you tipping for 2018? (in any field, but specifically tech)
Every hard-working person out there. Everybody that just wants do to better. All my friends, you know. I have a friend who wants to take a break from his architecture firm and start designing software, I’m rooting for him. I’m rooting for my guy who just got a job after a dry spell. I’m rooting for Paystack, I’m rooting for Bitkoin. My friend just started selling hair, I’m rooting for her too. I’m rooting for YOU. Just anyone who is working hard.
What are you trying to achieve in 2018?
More than anything, I’m just trying to be in the right place at the right time. We have some interesting things lined up with Bitkoin. Like anyone else, I really want to travel, I haven’t travelled in a while. I’ve never been to America. I would like to go to San Fransisco, [to] finally see what all the hype is about.
Mayorkun’s earliest memories of music paint a familiar story.
Born Mayowa Adewale-Emmanuel, Mayorkun was introduced to music through the word of God. “Morning devotion would be like a choir rehearsal,” he says, describing how prayer sessions also doubled as vocal training sessions. He’s come a long way since singing treble at his local church.
When I walk in on Mayorkun, he’s watching performance clips from a recent show, like an athlete reviewing his game-tape. He’s smiling, remembering the reaction of the crowd, but still focused on how he could improve. This frame perfectly encapsulates where Mayorkun sees himself right now: he has come so far so quickly, but he doesn’t intend on stopping anytime soon.
“How can I say I am successful when there is still a Davido? How can a Davido say he is successful when there is still a Drake? And how can a Drake say he is successful when there is still a Michael Jackson?”
It’s a rather blunt way of making sure he remains grounded, but it seems to be working for Mayorkun. Success is relative to him at every step of the way. He is thankful for all he has achieved till today, but he knows how much further he can take it.
With the growing popularity of Afrobeats worldwide, and Nigerian music being at the forefront of that, Mayorkun recognises the opportunity he and his peers have to represent the genre in the best possible way. Open conversation amongst young Nigerians may indicate a yearning for thought-provoking content in music, but Mayorkun is convinced that all artists are a product of their time. He has seen the memes and tweets inspired by his iconic upfront one-liners such as “I want to poke you like Pokemon”. But he doesn’t pay much attention to it. “People don’t even really listen to what you’re saying. Till today, people still ask me, what I was saying on ‘Eleko’”
Whilst he seems to be very relaxed when it comes to the idea of perhaps making more meaningful music, that doesn’t mean his lyrics aren’t carefully thought out. Take his late 2017 hit “Mama”, one of the best songs of last year. The strategic placement of the Ghanian twi phrase “si mi ka odo” – which loosely translates to “let me spend all my money loving you” –into the refrain of the hook points to an artist and a team that knows just how to reach their goals of world domination.
The worst assumption that can be made, he assures me, is that Nigerian artists do not have the range to pull off anything. “We’re all singing pon-pon now, but if reggae is what is reigning tomorrow, we would all sing it.” Where Kun – as he is called by his 30BG brothers – benefits more than his counterparts, is that he is one of the more versatile of the lot. He recognises trends and does not just fit in, but takes them into his own world. He refuses to take all the credit for this though, as he openly admits his song-making process is extremely collaborative; a useful habit he seems to have picked up from his label head, Davido.
“It was Kiddominant that came up with the Pokemon and Pacman lines – I wasn’t even sure about them but he was like ‘say it jo, e go blow’”
Mayorkun is half-laughing describing the making of his “Mama” follow-up, “Che Che”. He insinuates that he was really testing just how “low” he could go, lyrically, on the single which was a critical and commercial success. He enjoys these songs, especially performing them, but hints that his album will be the best place to really get to know him.
Looking forward to the rest of the year, Kun wants to keep growing as an artist and as a brand. He tells me about plans to do an African version of “We Are The World”, in which he would write the whole song and distribute the lyrics and ad-libs. That would be quite a feat. He’s a playful character, but quietly confident in his ability. He knows how hard he has worked to get to where he is now, but he’s not putting his feet up. Although he openly admits to staying on-trend with the popular sound of the pop landscape, Mayorkun knows how to make people feel something. That in itself is special and is what will see him continue to elevate to the lofty heights he envisions himself at.
Last summer, anybody keeping a close eye on the London Fashion scene could not have missed the name: Mowalola. Her graduate collection at Central Saint Martins, inspired by 70s and 80s Nigerian Pyschedelic Rock, depicted an aspect of the nation that has otherwise been hidden, from its population and the rest of the world. With tight, cropped and printed pieces, Mowalola reconfigures Nigerian menswear as she fulfils her predominant intention of celebrating alternative African history and culture.
Mowa uses more than just her apparel to celebrate Africa, as she collaborates with other creatives from her motherland, Nigeria. The NATIVE spoke with Mowalola about her industry favourites, philosophical approach to fashion and her perception of the new year. She’s up next Now.
What does a new year mean to you?
Mo’ Money, Mo’ Problems! (Laughs). No but seriously. I feel like each year I’m just learning more about myself, in terms of what I want to create, who I am. A new year for me is when I can just out-do myself. Doing more than I did the last year, learning from my mistakes, moving forward in a more positive way. Just being more open to new opportunities. It’s really important to keep moving and growing.
What was the one thing you learnt about yourself that you want to take into 2018?
Never be afraid to fail, because [failure] is a real amazing thing. Every time I made mistakes whilst doing my collection, it just pushed me to do something even better.
What inspired you to take that step to making your own collection?
It was my graduate collection at CSM (Central Saint Martins), so it was something I had been working towards for the past six years. I remember being in first year, and being very nervous about having to do my own collection. But all the growth over the years prepared me from that. When it got to it, I knew exactly how I wanted to present my vision.
How would you describe your approach towards fashion and the philosophy behind your brand?
To me it’s about connecting to the people around me, and being able to communicate with them through my clothes and all of the visual imagery I produce. It’s important for me [to] represent my country in a different way [than they already know], and show them our rich history. I want to connect with other Nigerians around the world to inspire them to fall in love with themselves again.
What songs will you play to open and close your first solo presentation on the runway?
Late 90s New Guinea Rock Music. That energy is everything. They mix traditional African instruments with the [electric] guitar, and it’s just crazy.
Where do you feel you fit into the ongoing renaissance of the arts scene in Nigeria?
I am showing people a different narrative. We don’t always have to do all the same stuff to be successful. And [to] look deeper into ourselves to find what we want to create. True Self Expression.
Have you always viewed fashion as the best way to fully express yourself?
No not at all! I studied Fine Art when I was in school. But I feel like all the things I know, I combine it with what I do with fashion. In my work, I create all the textiles, I hand-paint, I pick the music, I create the jewellery. I still have so many ideas of ways to express myself: I want to make furniture, I want to make films, it’s really endless. If you have any creative drive, I feel like your mind will always find new mediums to express yourself.
On Psychedelic, you worked with Ruth Ossai and IB Kamara. Who would you most like to work with next?
Arthur Jafa. Viviane Sassen. Crack Stevens. Jenn Nkiru. Petra Collins. And I want to continue working with IB and Ruth, because I feel like they fully understand my vision, and we all share the same ideas. Working with them is so natural.
How do you intend to use your platform for change?
Instead of working with already established models, stylists and photographers, I try to work with local Nigerians who may not be given a chance: people such as Stephen Tayo and Dafe Oboro. There are so many talented creatives in Nigeria, and I feel like they just need people to give them a chance to show themselves.
Who are you tipping for 2018?
IB Kamara. He is the most original, unapologetically black stylist I have seen in a long time. I am constantly moved by his work. It speaks to my soul.
What does it mean to you to be unapologetically black, in today’s world?
As black people [even in Africa], we grow up being taught that we should be more like The West, as that is the “right” way to be. We fail to recognise the greatness within us. It’s important as black people to look to each other for inspiration. So as creatives, being unapologetically black is to celebrate our beauty, our world and our people through our work.
Daberechi had to miss Lagos Fashion and Design Week. It was supposed to be her second cycle, and her first since being crowned the first winner of the Face of Few Model Search, a competition that cemented her position as the new girl to watch in Nigerian fashion. But after months of meticulous planning and successfully auditioning for LFDW, she got the call that her visa had been approved for her move to South Africa to begin a new career under the acclaimed 20 Models – just four days before she was due to hit the runway. Whilst she admits it was “unexpected” in its timing, it was a move that was very much in line with her trajectory.
After walking 20 plus shows last season, fronting campaigns for Maki Oh, Lady Biba and Tsemaye Binitie, Daberechi is cleaning slate and starting again – and making a play that she hopes will see her on the catwalks of Milan and Paris come Fall season. Daberechi is part of the Ukoha-Kalu creative sibling trio, subtly but undeniably affirming themselves as the best in their respective fields: her elder sister Yadichinma, a stellar visual artist, is also part of our NATIVE 12.
I had the pleasure of catching up with Daberechi on how she got into modelling, her big move, and how she spends her time off the runway.
How long have you been modelling for, and how did you get into it?
I have been in modelling for about a year now. I got into modelling by actively seeking it out – I decided I wanted to give it a go and not long after that I got scouted by my mother agency, Few Models.
You are a coder when you’re not on the runway. That is super rad and very unconventional. Why did you get into tech?
Thank you! I got into tech when I finished secondary school. I was an art student and I was fully aware that in Nigeria, my career options were limited to either studying Law, Mass Communications, English or something I had never heard about. I wasn’t ready to dedicate seven years of my life to Law so I decided to diversify. I took a gap year and began learning how to code.
What is the biggest difference for you between the two worlds?
Modelling demands that I be very aware of myself physically while coding only demands that I be mentally present. That is the biggest difference for me. At my first photo shoot, before I joined Few, I was an obvious mess and the photographer was giving me tips. I remember actively thinking “I don’t need this, I can code, I’m never modelling again.”
They are both worlds apart but it is so much fun to just perform! Tell a story with your eyes and craft a whole experience [on the runway] with your movement! And other times it is so relieving to jump into any outfit, not worrying too much if it flatters me or not, and sit in front of my computer.
You got your big international break by winning the inaugural Face of Few competition. Do you consider yourself a pageant girl now?
No, I’m not a pageant girl, although I’ve gotten many comments from people encouraging me to do pageantry. But that’s just not where my head is at. Few’s Next Face was a scouting contest, much more high fashion than pageantry which is why I participated in it. Even though I had been working for a few months before then, I saw it as a chance to get scouted and see what the rest of the modelling world had to offer me. It was a wonderful experience and I’m glad it turned out well.
You’ve worked with a number of high profile Nigerian designers, who has been your favourite so far?
It’s hard to just name one. I like Maki Oh, Deola Sagoe, and Tsemaye. In that order. These are designers that I can feel and see the amount of thought and creativity put into their garments. I’m absolutely in love with them, it’s insane.
Do you think models are finally getting their due in Africa?
I believe it’s a work in progress. I can testify to the Nigerian Fashion Industry, it is a small one but it is growing and developing. The scene now cannot be compared to the scene in 2012 and that was just five years ago. Models are definitely being treated with a lot more respect, people are no longer dismissive to models, and we are now fairly compensated for the work we do. It is obviously not where it should be, but we (as models) have become more aware of ourselves and our worth. We are demanding what we deserve.
What are your plans for 2018?
You know what, I believe in organised chaos. I think you run into problems when you try to bend the universe to your will. So I think I’ll just let things fall as they may.
As the pioneer of the “Alté”sound, Boj has been on the edges of mainstream success for years. From his beginnings as DRB’s enigmatic singer who captured listeners with his deep hooks, he has continued to contribute instrumentally to the dominating mid-tempo sound in contemporary Afrobeats.
He works in his own time, and he finally feels ready to take the next step.
What does a new year mean to you?
For me, it really feels like hitting the refresh button, especially this year.
What was the hardest part about transitioning from being in a band to being a solo artist?
It was never really a band, we were always solo artists who made music as a group. Even in 2013, we (DRB Las Gidi) all dropped solo mixtapes. It has always been like this.
How did it feel to release your debut album in 2017?
It was a big deal for me, and I’m very happy I got to do that. It was actually meant to be the beginning of a new chapter for me, but it turned out to be the end of one. I’m not with that label anymore, but it’s whatever.
What are your thoughts on independence, now you’ve left your label?
I feel like if you already have a following, the best thing to do is grind it out as an indie artist. I won’t lie to you, [looking back] I don’t know why I signed to a label. I wish I didn’t, but it was a learning curve. I am a pure creative – I just want to be in the studio and do shows. But I need to have someone I trust sort out all the other stuff.
What role do you feel you play in the Nigerian music scene?
Not meaning to brag, but I really feel like I’m one of the reasons why there’s this whole “chilled” vibe in Nigerian music right now. When I first started doing it, everyone told me “you can’t do this, it won’t work”, and now everyone is on that P. We created a new generation of music.
I agree. The general tempo in Nigerian pop music has definitely changed. Do you feel like you’re given the appropriate credit for that? Do you care?
Honestly it’s not even about credit. When I first started taking music seriously, one of my main goals was to inspire people to do exactly what they feel like doing. Just knowing I’m influencing people is good enough for me.
Yeah I get that – you want to show people that it’s okay to be themselves.
Exactly.
What is success to Boj?
Happiness. Financial Security. And being perceived as an icon.
How would you describe your music to an alien that just got to earth?
Zone-out music. You know chill music. Assuming aliens chill (laughs).
Who are you tipping for 2018?
I think Burna [Boy] is going to have a big year. I think Maleek [Berry] is going to have a fucking big year. Mayorkun, too.
What are your plans for 2018?
I want to make it a visual year. I want to shoot as many videos as possible for songs off my album. I’m also making a joint album with Ajebutter [22]. It’s something our fans have wanted for a while, so we just started working on that.
Odunsi [The Engine] has spent the last two years crossing over from the underground – on his own terms. Now, he’s on the cusp of greatness.
What does a new year mean to you?
I relate to people that start their new year whenever they feel like it’s right. Coincidentally, I started my career in January 2016, so for me they both align. I almost feel like every new year is my birthday – so I’ve just turned 3 (laughs).
How does that feel?
It’s scary man, I’m not going to lie. I feel like I’ve passed that stage where people ask “is he good or not?”. They know I’m good. So now, it’s like “what are you going to do next?”
What role do you feel you play in the Nigerian music scene?
I feel the need to recreate an era where everyone is being themselves. Before Afropop, when artists like Tony Tetuila and The Tribesmen were just telling their stories. They weren’t worried about [the structure] of hooks and verses, they were just being themselves and that became Pop. That’s an era I connect to in so many ways, and I want to try and recreate that.
What message do you want to give with your music?
Love. But more than that, I just want to tell my stories. I feel like there’s an under-representation of the middle class in the the music industry, in Lagos anyway. It’s either you’re from the streets…or you’re super wealthy. I’m just a normal guy who watched Channel O, Africa Magic and MTV and was influenced by that. Then I started using the internet – Hi5, Facebook, Twitter, everything. Everyone’s a product of their environment and that was mine.
Who influenced what you listened to growing up?
My big brother. He used to play a lot of Biggie, Aaliyah, Sade Adu, Craig David. Basically all the best stuff from the 90s and early 2000s. We used to have one of those Sony systems that you could put like 20 CDs in there, and all I did was watch those videos.
Did you always know you wanted to make music when you grew up?
Nah, not at all. I wanted to paint at first, I used to draw and shit. Then I went to high school, and girls weren’t really into artsy guys, so I starting getting into sport.
What sport did you play?
I played football and basketball, but my main thing was running track. I was actually pretty fast – like going to all these tournaments and shit, representing the school.
If your life was a 100M race, where would you say you are right now?
I haven’t even started man. For so much of my life, no one took me seriously. Growing up in Nigeria, the only way to prove that you have something to offer is through academics – and to me that’s just an unfair. If I fail an exam, how does that mean all my ideas aren’t good? Then I dropped out and started making music, and people liked it. Suddenly, when I talked, people listened. And I realised I have a lot of shit to say about non-music related things, I have ideas. So when I say I haven’t started yet, it’s because I know what music is going to do for me – it’ll open doors for me to kill shit in other places.
Were you scared to leave school?
For me it was really unavoidable. I was suffering from ADHD, and for so long I didn’t know. My parents didn’t know. My teachers didn’t know, so they would write stuff on my report cards like “yeah he’s smart, but he’s not applying himself.” I went into depression man…I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I would just be in class staring at someone’s shoes, or staring at the clock. No one could give me answers, I didn’t even know what questions to ask. So once I found out, [that I had ADHD] I made the decision to leave school.
Yeah that’s definitely a big issue, especially in Africa – teachers aren’t necessarily looking out for learning disabilities in students.
Exactly. They’re actually paying more attention to the kids doing well, rather than to the kids struggling that actually really need help.
What helped you through these times?
When I was younger, I just thought things would get better. Then later on, I tapped into music a lot to feel better. Sade Adu and The Lighthouse Family were very key to me. The words were so reassuring. Obviously they made love songs, but they were more than that to me.
You’ve previously spoken publicly about your battle with self-discovery. What does peace of mind look like for you?
Knowing that I can be the best version of myself, even if I’m not quite there yet. Understanding that you can graduate to higher levels of yourself – rather than trying to be someone else – is something I’ve learnt and it’s so important. Self-awareness is the key to peace of mind. At the end of the day, you have to realise that there are certain things only you can understand about yourself.
I’ve heard a lot of people paint you as a lover boy. How do you feel about that?
I feel like there are a lot of sides to me, but that’s definitely the easiest to express. The foundation of life is love and relationships: with your mother, your father, your friends. That’s my language for now.
What is your one true Desire?
I really just want to tour the world man. I want to connect with different kinds of people that just do dope shit. I have so many ideas and I know I just need to meet the right people. Being alone most of my childhood felt like one big mental exercise. It was like how people go to the gym, I was doing that with my mind. Constantly thinking. I would be in my room just thinking for hours, thinking myself to sleep. I would dream up so many scenarios, and in every one I was a star. It was kind of my escape from what I was actually going through. Now I want to live out those dreams.
What does Family mean to you?
Man, to me, family is everything. It’s so important for me to establish honest relationships because I didn’t really have those growing up. I’m making a conscious effort to the understand the role of different people in my life.
How has music helped you establish these relationships?
It helped me find my tribe. I’ve met so many of my closest friends doing this. Instead of feeling like I need to fit in, I’m now comfortable being an outcast.
What are some of the things you and your friends are worried about this year?
Man just the country in general. Everyone is always talking about leaving, because it’s too tough. But I’m not really in a position to be taking vacations. Things are already hard enough for artists like myself, Santi or [Lady] Donli – then add that to what’s going on in the country – it just feels like you’re fighting Goliath. Or two Goliaths. But it’s not something that’s really on my mind, but every now and then it just flashes and scares you a bit. Is this going to work? How long will it take?
Who are you tipping for 2018?
Burna Boy for sure. I feel like this year will be crucial for us, too. 2018 is all about making decisions. For me, it’s like a bus. There’s a bus at 15:15, and there might not be another one till 7PM. So you have to make sure you get on the bus. It’s like the NBA Draft.
Do you feel like that for the genre as a whole?
No, but 2018 is the year that the conversation will intensify.
How does it make you feel when people group you and other upcoming acts under one umbrella?
It’s kind of lazy, but I understand it. They don’t understand us, so they feel like they have to [group us]. But there are definitely two sets of people that do this.
The first set of people legitimately don’t understand what is going on. They’re not grouping us maliciously, it’s just naive.
The second set are actually trying to do all they can to diminish us, so we don’t become anything. I’ll give you a scenario. There is one guy in a room surrounded by a bunch of people. He is playing darts, and he keeps hitting the bullseye. And everyone in the room says “Wow, bullseye again and again, amazing.” And then the other guy walks into the room whilst all this is going on, and starts playing the flute. A couple of people in the room say “Where is that flute coming from? Let’s go check it out.” The majority of the people in the room just say “We’ll go later, we still love what the darts guy is doing.” They both keep doing their thing: the darts guy continuously hits the bullseye, the flute guy continuously riffing. Then, the girl that the darts guy is really doing all this to impress, checks out the flute guy, and she loves it. Obviously hitting the bullseye is amazing, but she just thinks the flute guy is so cool and original. So the darts guy, seeing this girl giving the flute guy all this attention, summons him over. He pats him on the head and goes“Oh yeah, this is the flute guy everyone, we met last week. How you doing, man? How’s the flute? You know what, let me buy you a new flute.”
That’s a great analogy man (laughs).
I actually deal with all this stuff man. They’re trying to make you feel like you’re going to be small forever.
Word. And little do they know, the flute guy can probably play darts too.
Exactly. They want to force us into this box. It’s like fake support. But at the end of the day, I’m built for it. I’ve done my homework. I’ve watched how transitions happen in any industry – not just music – and it’s always the same. When shit is about to happen, it’s always the same. There’s nothing new.
What do you want out of 2018?
I want to solidify a following. I want to really have a tribe. Like if I [tweet] a full stop, they know exactly what I mean. I want my listeners to become my family. With them, there isn’t anywhere I can’t go.
Beyond the reverb effect, there’s something about the way Duncan Mighty sings “I Want To Be Like This, If Love Can Be Like This” that lingers. Dripping with loss, hurt, and regret, it also contains an element of hope. And with a feature from Wizkid, their combination, “Fake Love” is a delightful listen despite the message of romantic hopelessness.
The Clarence Peters directed video is mainly performative over the mid-tempo beat Killertunes produces with atmospheric synth backdrop, Duncan Mighty and Wizkid combine to deliver vocals—in English and an indigenous language—that seem to say “Only Fake Girls Be Loving When You Have/ When E Ready Them To Hammer”. Their confessional is a reminder that even the biggest celebrities are humans and aren’t above feeling emotionally confused as Wizkid admits his trust issues, “Sey You Go Dey For Me If I No Pay”, before confessing what seems to be his true feelings, “Make I Be Your Bobo/ Make I Die For Your Matter Oh” regardless.
Watch “Fake Love” by Duncan Mighty and Wizkid.
Featured Image Credits: Instagram/wizkidayo
You are meeting Debola at a strange time in his life. He wandered into a dream and lost his way back. Tweet at him@debola_abimbolu
Since her captivating performance on femme anthem, “Kele Kele Love”, we’ve known Tiwa Savage had a long career ahead of her. Her latest single, titled “Tiwa Vibe”, is a testament to her glamour and coming into her own.
It’s not every day you hear electronic guitar solos on dance driven Afropop songs. For “Tiwa’s Vibe”, Spellz provides the pleasant mid-tempo harmonies layered with ambient synths, drums and soaring electronic guitar riffs which serve as theme music for Tiwa Savage’s detailed instructions on what to do before stepping up to her on the dancefloor. Singing “If You Want To Touch My Body/ You Gaz To Spend The Money Oh/ Bottles Most To Pop Oh”, she’s reemphasizing Small Doctor’s criminally underrated lyrics “If You No Get Money/ Hide Your Face”. Tiwa Savage channels party sentiments for “Tiwa Vibe” and the beat doesn’t let her down.
Listen to Tiwa Savage’s “Tiwa Vibe” here.
Featured Image Credits: Instagram/tiwasavage
You are meeting Debola at a strange time in his life. He wandered into a dream and lost his way back. Tweet at him@debola_abimbolu
After collaborating with fellow Tinny Entertainment artist, Bella Alubo, for their joint romantic EP, Late Night Vibration, YCee still seems stuck in his feelings for his new single, “Your Love”. Singing over the EDM inspired beat Syn X produces with crashing synths and throbbing drums that lead to a bass drop without really peaking, YCee reminisces on love; “January to December”.
Donald Glover’s alter-ego, Childish Gambino released the video for “This is America” after premiering the song during his hosting gig at “Saturday Night Live”. Like the title suggests, the video offers what seems to be a glimpse at what it’s like being black in America. Hiro Murai directs the carnage and chaos glorifying video being analyzed on Twitter. While some describe it as a powerful rally cry against gun violence, others think it’s a graphic portrait of black-American existentialism. Some, however, aren’t too thrilled at the violence displayed in the video forces them relive traumatic experiences, and it’s hard to blame them with the anarchy being placed side by side with kids playing in the car park.
CDQ – “Aye” Feat. Phyno and Reminisce
If you thought hip-hop in Nigeria died, you deserve jail time for wrong diagnosis and CDQ’s latest release, “Aye” featuring Phyno and Reminisce should be evidence presented against you in court. “Aye” is hardcore hip-hop number with vengeful diss bars and brags over sombre ambient harmonies, but that’s not the highlight. Whenever you invite rappers like Phyno and Reminisce to spit aggressive rap bars, the odds are they’ll steal the show. Few people can match their mix of English and indigenous lyrics, but CDQ matches their aggression inspired perhaps by the current state of rap in the country and bitter sweet memories of Da Grin. AdamsGud directs the video showing all three rappers performing their verses illuminated by red lights.
Royce Da 5’9 – “Caterpillar” Feat. Eminem
Royce Da 5’9’s new single, “Caterpillar” features a guest verse from Detroit rap’s most famous son, Eminem. The single instant reminds us the electric partnership of Bad Meets Evil heard on their joint ‘Hell: The Sequel’ project. As expected, they come for anyone and everyone who thinks they can compete with them in the rap booth. Eminem’s verse references faecal matter but talking shit doesn’t stop him from threatening the mumble rappers with an axe; “The boom bap is coming back with an ax to mumble rap”.
Sarkodie – “The Come up (Freestyle)”
Sarkodie’s success as a rapper has been a source of inspiration to lots of aspiring rappers in Africa who are struggling to compete with more commercial genres. Sarkodie’s latest release, “The Come Up Freestyle” is presented as a response to one of such fans who wrote him a message asking “As an up and coming rapper, what keys do I need to open the locks in the industry”. The video shows Sarkodie’s response, explaining how he made it through the tough times with a nothing but a couple bottles in the background serving as confirmation of his status. But he’s a renowned rapper and only needs his signature blend of rapid fire Twi and English to rap bars as he encourages upcoming rapper to stick with the struggle till they eventually get a big break.
Wande Coal – Oh No No
Released in September last year, what makes Wande Coal’s romantic Afropop single, “Oh No No”, really hit—besides the catchy beat and hook—is it’s romantic theme. It’s a theme that underscores most of Afropop’s earworming catalog. And Wande Coal has proven time and time again the endearing narrative never gets old. Backed by the atmospheric synths Cheeky Chizzy produces, he sings over a lover’s attractive looks. The Director Q directed video follows that simple script bathing Wande Coal and an attractive model in strobe lights.
Krizbeatz “Erima” Beat tutorial
Krizbeatz is among the producers making his name known in Nigeria’s soundscape. His sound signature has featured on a number of Afropop hits like “Erima” featuring Davido and Tekno. The producer took to his Youtube to give break down the creation of the song’s beat for aspiring producers. The 24-minute long video features tutorials from Krizbeats on how to make Afropop beats and some informed analysis on the creation of the song.
Featured Image Credits: YouTube/Royce Da 5’9
You are meeting Debola at a strange time in his life. He wandered into a dream and lost his way back. Tweet at him@debola_abimbolu
Where 2016 hit “Do Like That” showed off Korede Bello’s dexterity with sultry, metallic club music and R&B, he increases the pace to a well-suited sprint for new single, “Sote”. The song speaks to that spark of insanity, being in love with another person, making grand promises and declaration; “Dangote Na My Father/ Otedola is My Daddy/ Adenuga Na My Papa/ Anything You Want, You Order Till You Tire”.
“Sote” finds Korede Bello so in love that his promises sound unbelievable and borderline crazy. But his ridiculous statements make for a fun listen, over percussion and nodding-bass produced by Babyfresh.
Listen to Korede Bello’s “Sote” below.
Featured Image Credits: Instagram/koredebello
You are meeting Debola at a strange time in his life. He wandered into a dream and lost his way back. Tweet at him@debola_abimbolu
Since the release of their collaborative project “Chemistry” in 2016, Simi and Falz have sailed through their solo careers with light-hearted and emotive music, like much of the music on the joint project. Both artists have released excellent albums and equally eye-catching music videos since this project, but it is fair to say that Chemistry has stayed one of the more interesting collaborative projects since it was released.
At the time, the duo kept it limited to audio versions of the songs on the EP, but they have now resurfaced, two years after, with a video for the first song from the project, titled “Foreign” because, echoing Simi’s announcement post, “Some things are too hard to let go of”
Like we hear on the song, both artists take turns explaining to how [and why] they’re “Foreign” [International, not from around town]. The video begins at a local food joint, where both artists take turns trying to out-do one another. With the gimmick accent heard on most of Falz’s music, makes his case with lines like “I’m so janded look at all my garment”. Simi’s singing fits right in, with the singer dropping equally ridiculous lines.
While they both explain that they won’t be caught dead eating the food being served, they somehow gingerly stand in line to eat the same meal. There’s a battle of sorts between both characters at the end, but there are no winners, as both are held by a small mob for not having any money to pay for their meal.
Watch Simi and Falz’s “Foreign” here
Featured Image Credit: Youtube/X3M Music
“Tomiwa is figuring it out…” Tweet at her @fauxxbella
As far as songwriters and composers go, Wande Coal is the bar and the starting point for any artist aiming for Nigeria’s elite class. Since his Mo-Hits days, Wande Coal’s tack has been both a wide breadth of melody and the ability to build compositions that manage equal amounts earworm and ingenuity. Set on guitar-led instrumentals produced by Juls, “So Mi So” is threaded as one of those Wande Coal gems you can expect to snake into playlists gradually until it seems like everyone won’t stop playing the damn song. Thematically, Wande keeps things light, teasing his lover about her beauty with soft lyrics and a smoky delivery lined-up against mid-tempo drums.
Juls has been reaching for new levels of inspiration by tapping into West African highlife with an Afro-Carribean tint; first with Burna Boy’s “Rock Your Body”, now with Wande Coal. If there was ever any doubt about the man’s ability to make distinct yet familiar neo-highlife, “So Mi So”, clears all that shit up.
Afropop is coming full circle. As opposed to the older generations who relied heavily on American pop music for a frame of reference, we now have a backlog of Afropop classics to sample from. And WANI takes full advantage of this wide breadth of refrences for ‘Lagos City Vice’, his project debut.
Nearly a year after releasing “Blem”, an Afropop cover for Drake’s hit, WANI debuts his EP with mellow lightweight ambience, tailored for the carefree period of vacations and sunshine. The breezy fusion of neo-R&B and Afropop melodies is smooth and his lyrics heightens the tracks’ warmth and delight.
The opening track, “2face Riddim”, named in honour of 2Baba’s influence on Afropop, underpins the WANI’s unabashed loyalty to his preferred style and sound. The mellow synth led invitation to a good time is a slow burner that interpolates lines from 2face’s “Keep on Rocking” and samples vocals from his Face 2 Face album debut. Though the beats build to a climax, the gratification feels delayed, even through 2nd track, “China Designer” with pacier drums. On “China Designer” WANI sings the praise to his love interest over a beat similar to Tekno’s “Be”, but shares lyrics from Baba Dee’s classic, “Sodi E”, another gem from the archives.
Still, it’s not till the 4th track, “What You Like”, that the party really starts jumping. The mixture of horn sounding samples, drums and sweeping synths that peak and drop is catchy, seemingly designed to get listeners on their feet as WANI’s vocals cajole the clubby sentiments, “Catch a Vibe All Night/ I Know That’s What You Like”.
On “MVP”, WANI’s showy side, merely hinted at on previous tracks, takes front and centre. Though the themes of steamy dancing at the club remains present, he manages to sneak in a few brags while cheering the lifestyle. “234”, the last track on the EP, however ditches the partying to perform a more heartfelt declaration of his love.
Listen to WANI’s debut project, ‘Lagos City Vice‘ below.
Featured Image Credits: Instagram/ayo.wani
You are meeting Debola at a strange time in his life. He wandered into a dream and lost his way back. Tweet at him@debola_abimbolu
Since carving a spot for himself in the music industry, Odunsi has stayed in the spotlight through features and collaborations with people both within and outside the mainstream industry. His first single for the year, “Mine” was released over the weekend and he says he released it because he doesn’t know what other windows to put it out.
did this record 3 years ago with @RealHamzaa when i first spoke to her. want to share it with you guys now cause i don’t know what other window i’d put it out. enjoy 🥂🥂https://t.co/S2vKHgAxAE
“Mine” is a love song with Reggae influences and interpolations of MAGIC!’s 2014 hit, “Rude”. Over the mid-tempo percussion, swinging acoustics, drums and vocal harmonies, Odunsi sings his lovers praise, promising to love her forever. He features London based singer, Hamzaa, who matches his emotional rendition, offering lines in English and a native dialect.
Listen to Odunsi’s “Mine” featuring Hamzaa below.
Featured Image Credits: Instagram/odunsitheengine
You are meeting Debola at a strange time in his life. He wandered into a dream and lost his way back. Tweet at him@debola_abimbolu
After releasing videos for a couple of songs on the Simisola album, Simi teams up with music producer, Dj Somi Jones and OZ for the Somi Jones’ a new single, “Blow me away”.
Simi and OZ both admit to previously shying away from the intensity of their feelings and keeping things low key but render themselves open to be bowled over by a significant other (with ease though) over what sounds like a vibrant mix of Afropop and EDM but it’s really Simi that blows it out of the water.
From minimally promoted song covers to sleeper hits like “Instaman”, WANI has been infusing nostalgic references for instantly likeable Afropop. It’s a pattern marking how far the sound has come over the years, and everyone from Nonso Amadi, Tekno to Davido have employed this technique for their hits. But it seems only WANI has enough spunk to harmonise a sound that listens and feels truly authentic.
WANI’s debut EP, ‘Lagos City Vice‘ revives wistful R&B influenced Afropop from the early 2000s. If your memory is sketchy, check out the opening track, “2face Riddim” and the rest of the 6-track tape below.
Featured Image Credits: Instagram/ayo.wani
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You are meeting Debola at a strange time in his life. He wandered into a dream and lost his way back. Tweet at him@debola_abimbolu
