Interview: Angélique Kidjo Wants You To Find Hope

Posted on by The Native

Angélique Kidjo doesn’t really have anything to prove anymore, but she still keeps showing up. Four decades into a career that has seen her ascend all the heights possible with her music, the Beninese singer continues to urge her listeners towards a more humane, optimistic view of self and the world around them. Her latest album, ‘HOPE!!,’ is an extension of that goal: Five years in the making, the 16-tracker is an effusively optimistic body of work that started to take form in the wake of the passing of her mother, Yvonne, in 2021. 

Out of that difficult moment rose a resolve to keep hard at her work as a link between the recent past of African music and it’s wild, unpredictable future as she says in “Joy,” her collab with Davido. “I started thinking about this album, not knowing exactly where to go with it, because I was asking myself, ‘Is it worth doing any album anymore because of the technology?’ Kidjo tells Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio. “Things are going so fast, and I like to take my time. A friend of mine said to me, ‘You have always given us so much, but we want more of you. We want more of you.’” 

From the socio-political opener, “Bando,” to the reflective “Sunlight to My Soul,” the message is that hope can be a salve for the difficult times no matter how dire the situation gets. Calling on a strong cast of talents from across Africa and the Black diaspora to collaborate with her, ‘HOPE!!’ is Ms. Kidjo‘s startling homage to the strength of the human spirit and a reminder of why she’s one of Africa’s most celebrated voice. 

This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. 

What do you think of hope?

I think hope has always been something that accompanied me since I was a child because I heard my mom say it, talk about hope all the time.  She always used to say to us, the first thing you do when you wake up is greet your body, because sleeping is like a little death, but you come out of it. Be grateful, be thankful, but also be thankful for the hope that has been given to you at birth. Without hope, there is no love. There’s no hope, there’s no perseverance. There’s no plan for the future, and we need hope at every moment of the day and the life you’re living. Life is just one thing. I mean, you have a time you spend on this earth. You need to hang on to your hope to be able to achieve yourself first. Before you can achieve anything else, you need to be hopeful.

How did you approach writing this album?

It took me five years. I started thinking about this album, not knowing exactly where to go with it, because I was asking myself, “Is it worth doing any album anymore because of the technology?” Things are going so fast, and I like to take my time. A friend of mine said to me, ” You have always given us so much, but we want more of you. We want more of you.” How do you define yourself and your parents, who have played such a huge role in your life? How will you define in ten words yourself, the relationship, and the value that has been passed on to you? That’s the hardest thing to do. So, days in and days out, I’m like, “Where do I start? So, I start with hope because I’m counting on my spirit to guide me through the words that are going to come that make sense. I have kindness, defiance, determination, joy, and a couple of words, and I put them down, and I say, “Okay, stop,” because I can’t think of anything else. 

I reached out to Shungudzo Kuyimba, who is from Zimbabwe. We wrote ‘Mother Nature’ together. I said, “This is what I’m thinking. I’ve been pushed to my boundaries to think beyond music, but [I have] to dig deep into myself. Then she said, “Those words are powerful, and they kind of look like it’s you.” I said, “I don’t know me.” So I flew her to Paris, and we spent a week working on those words. While I was working on the words also, I’ve been through my archive of rhythm of my continent and started putting them down, putting some chords on it. I just gave myself the freedom to put anything that crossed my mind. With the drum machine, I’d be typing on it with my finger. My husband would be like, “It’s going to take forever.” I’d say, “Hey, I don’t know the machine, but this one I want to, I’m just going to do it. I’m going to tap, I’m going to tap on and do whatever I want.” He’s looking at me like, “I have to wait for you to finish this?” I’d say, “Yes, I don’t care. That’s what I want to do. I mean, it’s just like crazy.” I said, “Hey, those are my rhythm, and this is what I’m feeling that the drum should do, and this and that. So I can’t explain it to you, and I cannot play it like that, but I have the machine that can help me do it.” So, when Shungudzo arrived, we sat down, and we listened to the thing. Then she said, “Which word do we want to work on today?” I said, “I don’t care. Whatever comes to your mind. Let’s start writing, and we see where it takes us.” That’s how we wrote more than 20 songs. We still have songs left from this album. We couldn’t put all of it there. So we’re thinking about doing perhaps a deluxe in September. 

What do you think is your mum’s legacy?

One thing my mom used to say is that we only have one life. None of us knows if there is any life after death. So while we’re here, we’ve got to do the best of it and celebrate it. When I was younger, when I got mad with somebody, I wouldn’t talk to the person anymore. My mom said, “No. That’s not the way it works. You can’t do that.” I mean, you don’t know where you’re gonna be tomorrow. If something happens to you and that person you don’t speak to, how are you going to ask for help? So, “Aye Kan” means one life. When that song comes in, I say, “Here’s mom again. She wants me not to forget, she wants me not to forget what she said. It’s that there’s only one life, you gotta celebrate it.” And you have to come back. You can make a mistake, but recognizing that mistake and coming back and apologizing, there’s nothing wrong about it. It makes you bigger.

What’s the message in “Bando” with Pharrell?

I think some people still believe that they have a say, but a system that is put in place is crushing us. [It’s] taking our freedom to speak, freedom to think, freedom to be. We can’t just sit there and not acknowledge that if we let that happen, what makes us and sets us apart as human beings will be lost forever. I have nothing against technology. Technology for me has to be a partner for human life to improve, not to crush the human spirit, and that’s what we are seeing. We made “Bando” because in the abundant, the ghetto, that’s where the trend starts. The people who have nothing, at the bottom of the ladder, are the ones that have more hope and who show us the way. Let’s go back to the essentials and see how we can use hope because we have it. We don’t have to go buy it. If we step away a little from the phone and use the phone differently to serve hope, we can get there.

Why did you collaborate with the Soweto Gospel Choir?

The first time we sang together was for the Nelson Mandela Foundation, the first show in Cape Town. When I heard them singing with me, it was like they lifted me from the ground and put me up.  I wanted them to be on that song, on the album. There are a couple of songs that I didn’t put on the album yet that they are on it. I want people to feel that lift. I want people to feel that the power of the human voice is something that makes us move against our will sometimes, because “Sunlight To My Soul” is my message to everybody. When you let love come in, and you let somebody love you with all your flaws, and you love the person back the same way, nothing can stop you.”

What were you feeling while making “Superwoman?”

I dedicated “Superwoman” to Dadju’s mother, my mother, and all our mothers because they are superwomen. What they do for us, we can’t thank them enough, and it’s not just a matter of African mothers; it’s mothers around the world.  I’ve seen this with my own eyes, they will do everything for their children. They are the glue that keeps our society together, and I pay tribute to them all the time. To have a young man who’s a descendant of Africa showing his love to his mother and helping me celebrate his mother and my mother and all mothers is a powerful thing. When we have men on the side of women’s issues, we move farther. We cannot succeed in doing anything without having our partner next to us. That’s what nature makes us be. That’s what God intended us. We gotta be partners with each other. That’s the way it is. So, “Superwoman” is a message from a man to a mother, from a woman to a father. 

The Best Albums Of The 2020s

Posted on by The Native

If African music commanded the world’s attention at the tail end of the 2010s thanks to its melodic and inescapable singles, the 2020s have proven to be a whole different ballgame. Thanks to the work of musicians from across the continent, the album as a creative medium has roared into prominence throughout this decade, with stars like Burna Boy, Kabza De Small, and Sauti Sol releasing bodies of work that are as definitive as they are invigorating.  

While debates over what may constitute a classic may continue to rage in different places, what is without doubt is that these albums have showcased the breadth and depth of African imagination in a decade that has seen music from the continent become an integral part of global Pop.

‘Made In Lagos’ – Wizkid 

In the years following the release of his sophomore album, ‘Ayo,’ Wizkid always talked about ‘Made In Lagos’ in mythical terms. Per the Surulere-raised star, it was meant to be THE album, and so listeners bought into its hype over and over with several release dates coming and going. 

When ‘Made In Lagos’ finally arrived in the wake of October 2020’s momentous #EndSARS protests, it worked its way into the soul of a broken nation begging for escapism and reprieve after a generational reckoning with state-sanctioned violence. Sonically, ‘Made In Lagos’ was the culmination of a tonal and melodic shift that Wizkid had been working his way towards since 2017’s ‘Sounds From The Other Side.’ 10 years after his breakthrough with “Holla At Your Boy,” Wizkid made another creative leap with ‘Made In Lagos,’ calmly sliding over luxuriant instrumentals crafted by P2J as he explored his fascination with love and romance run through a distinct Lagos filter across standouts like “Blessed,” “Piece of Me,” and the propulsive “Essence.” – Wale Oloworekende. 

 

‘Boy Alone’ – Omah Lay 

It’s not contentious to claim there are only a handful of Afropop albums that are as cohesive and conceptually well-executed as Omah Lay’s brilliant debut album. The melancholia, vulnerability, and expressive melodies that helped him construct his myth in the restrictive pandemic year are the same foundational pillars that hold this masterpiece together. It functions as both an autobiography and a confessional, where Omah Lay mines his complex emotional landscape to create dark, moody gems like “i’m a mess,” “temptations,” and standout hits like “soso” and “understand.” – Boluwatife Adeyemi.

 

‘Mr Money With The Vibe’ – Asake 

A breakout year that saw Asake almost single-handedly redefine the sound of Nigerian Pop music culminated in one of the best debut albums in history. Full of hits like the infectious “Terminator,” “Peace Be Unto You (PBUY),” “Joha,” and the spiritually resonant “Nzaza,” ‘Mr Money With The Vibe’ put on display Asake’s unparalleled ability to craft sing-along anthems that are rooted in the often frenetic, ethos of Lagos Street-Pop culture, yet possessing an undeniable, polished quality that gives them a global appeal. – B.A.

 

‘Carpe Diem’ – Olamide

When Olamide released ‘Carpe Diem’ in October 2020, it had been three years since his exhaustive last full-length effort, 2017’s ‘Lagos Nawa,’ which brought an end to a legendary run of album releases that started with 2011’s ‘Rapsodi.’ Coming off the back of that brief pause from releasing albums, there was anticipation for what would be the Afropop titan’s seventh album. There was little need to worry about Olamide being jaded on ‘Carpe Diem’ though; across the 12 tracks of the album, Olamide made a rapprochement with the then-future of Afropop, effortlessly embodying the essence of living in the moment without worry while charting a new course for his career. From the potent triad of “Infinity,” “Triumphant,” and “Loading” to the warm grooves of “Shilalo” and “Unconditionally,” ‘Carpe Diem’ was a reboot for the ages from one of Africa’s most celebrated music acts.  – W.O.

 

‘I Am The King Of Amapiano: Sweet & Dust’ – Kabza De Small

If there was ever any doubt about who Amapiano’s central brain trust was, Kabza De Small’s 2020 titanic double-disc classic, ‘I Am The King Of Amapiano: Sweet & Dust,’ was a definitive claim to leadership of the African Dance Music variant that he helped popularise. Arriving just a year after Amapiano emerged as a global force, ‘Sweet & Dust’ gave a glimpse into the full potential of the sound as both a hypnotic dancefloor summoner and an elegiac form of African sonic expression.

From “MaPiano Blues” to “Sam Sokolo,” Kabza’s instrumental-driven vision for the sound and his collaborative instincts emerge unencumbered, providing structure for all that the genre would aspire to in the years to come. There’s even space for a couple of Nigerian collabs, the pick of the bunch being “Sponono” which effectively set the stage for the Afropop-Dance hybrids that have taken over the continent throughout the 20202s. Across the three hours of ‘Sweet & Dust,’ Kabza was an inspired genius laying down the edicts for the genre he’s given his life to. – W.O.

 

‘HEIS’ – Rema

On HEIS, Rema burns down the prescribed Afropop playbook to build something far more exciting. The renegade superstar warps his strongest qualities into arguably his best project to date, which says a great deal given the supersonic pace at which he has been dropping bangers since his 2019 breakout. Richly textured and wildly imaginative, ‘HEIS’ is an interdimensional journey through a nebula of influences, from Amapiano and Indie-Alt to Mara, Northern Nigerian urban court music, Galala-esque drum patterns, and melodies from Kenyan Red Fourth Chorus. The Rave Lorde created an otherworldly layering of sound that pushes the familiar to the uncanny.

The project is loud, moves at full speed, and opts for disorientation at every turn. It administers an overdose of dopamine through punchy cuts like “March Am,” “Ozeba,” and “Azaman.” Here, Rema is at his most everything, particularly at his wittiest, firing off lines like “Oppenheimer, always dropping another banger” on the fiery opener, “March Am.” – Melony Akpoghene.

 

‘Twice As Tall’ – Burna Boy 

Burna Boy operates in a league of his own, and it vividly explains why he could platform his musical prowess while tincturing some of Africa’s best voices into an album that proudly portrays the everyday struggles and triumphs of a continent. From the very moment Pat Boon’s voice reverberated on the statement intro, “Level Up,”  and Yossou N’Dour’s golden vocals accentuated it, to the final moments of the self-adulatory “Bank On It,” the message was clear: Burna Boy had orchestrated an unbeatable classic with ‘Twice As Tall.’ – Michelle Ejiro. 

 

‘Roots’ – The Cavemen.  

In 2019, The Cavemen. assisted Lady Donli in putting together her colourful debut album ‘Enjoy Your Life,’ a critically-acclaimed body of work that quietly established the brother duo as extremely talented instrumentalists and producers. Their renown would, however, skyrocket the following year thanks to their refreshing debut album that would immediately position them as the torchbearers of the Highlife revival. They breathed new life into the classic West African genre, producing delightful music that retained much of Highlife’s traditional structures and rhythms while also imbuing it with modern sensibilities. – B.A.

 

‘Some Nights I Dream Of Doors’ – Obongjayar 

When Obongjayar makes music, he opens up new worlds of expression and being, and on ‘Some Night I Dream of Doors,’  he becomes the conduit between the supernatural and the physical. At least that is the sort of experience he intended for the 35-minute runtime of the project, played out over twelve mind-blowing tracks.

Swinging between elements of Neo-Soul, R&B, and Afropop, his remarkably sonorous voice melds seamlessly into the core of the deeply introspective “Wind Sailor” and  “I Wish It Was Me,” where he humanises the bitter-sweet contrast of envy and admiration like no other. While his vocals metamorphose on the assertive “Tinko Tinko,” and Punk-inspired “Message in a Hammer,” ‘Some Night I Dream of Doors’ broadens his range with an album that validates the transcendental emotions of ambition, anxiety, and desire that we confront in our daily lives. – M.E. 

 

‘For Broken Ears’- Tems

Throughout the seven tracks of this prophetic work, Tems is dogged and spiritually intuitive. She appears ready to move forward on her journey with or without us. It’s a brave work that finds her belting out her fears about the inescapable unbearableness of an unfulfilled self. She opens with “Interference,” a battle cry in which her voice pierces the air with meaning that leaves no room for negotiation. On “Higher,” she draws a circle in the dirt, daring the world to step across it, while dismantling the myth of the agreeable muse. 

Being Tems’ debut project, the extended play arrived like a deep breath of fresh air. It is a torrential work marked by emotional maturity and an unflinching inventory of struggle and self-discovery. So far, ‘For Broken Ears’ stands as the clearest manifestation of Tems’ gifts. – M.A.

 

‘VTTKC’ + TKC’ – Seyi Vibez WO

It’s not every day that you wake up with the world waiting on your next move. Still, in the wake of his successful November 2022 debut album, ‘Billion Dollar Baby,’ Seyi Vibez was instantly catapulted to the summit of Afropop, beginning a prolific streak that imprinted his Apala-influenced musical style on wider culture. Unfortunately for the rising singer, the crushing death of his mother and a sister followed early in 2023, necessitating a public retreat for months. 

When he returned with ‘Vibe Till Thy Kingdom Come’ in June 2023, few could have guessed that it was the opening salvo in a double album rollout that would be completed just 15 days later with the release of  ‘Thy Kingdom Come.’ Across the length of  ‘VTTKC’ and TKC,’ Vibez is supplicant and broggadicious in equal measure, examining the ephemerality of life, the perks of success, and the redemptive power of love in a creative landmark that saw him experiment with genres like Fuji, Highlife, Pop, and Soul without losing the characteristic edge that stood him while songs like “Dejavu” and “Karma” established his reputation as an urban philosopher.  – W.O.

 

‘Trouble In Paradise’ – Shekhinah

‘Trouble In Paradise’ evokes exactly the apprehension that its title suggests. The album is Shekhinah’s therapy couch, a space where she unspools her thoughts with disarming clarity. While her debut basked in the “rose gold” glow of new romance, this project confronts the reality of things falling apart. Its central metaphor rests on the slow accumulation of emotional sediment.

The atmospheric R&B that runs through the record creates room for lyrics that linger on loss, self-doubt, and the gradual rebuilding of self-worth. Shekhinah traces the emotional terrain of a relationship as it shifts from promise to disillusionment, observing how idealism cracks under pressure and questioning her own complicity in the fantasy. On songs such as “Tides” and “Fall Apart,” love is no longer buoyant but heavy, tugging at the ankles. There is no melodrama, only the dawning awareness that what once felt like destiny may have been just a projection. – M.A.

 

‘The Villain I Never Was’ – Black Sherif

In its best moments, ‘The Villain I Never Was’ is a dispatch from the edge of transformation. Blending Highlife with Drill, Black Sherif fine-tunes his ability to write full stories into single bars. He tells intense tales of street life, the dread of making nothing out of yourself, the paranoia that shadows upward mobility, and most strikingly, grief. 

There is a palpable sense of a young artist negotiating the psychic toll of fame in real time. Black Sherif doesn’t posture as a hero or martyr; in fact, he sounds wary of both roles. The album’s thematic pulse is an exploration of misunderstanding and self-perception; although he has often been cast as an antagonist in his own story, he pushes back against that framing. This friction—between how one is seen and how one feels—is the emotional backbone of the record. This work is a solid debut that amplified Black Sherif’s voice as a beacon of restless interiority within contemporary African Pop. – M.A.

 

‘Midnight Train’ – Sauti Sol

Sauti Sol’s ‘Midnight Train’ is far more than a showcase of stylistic range. It is a joyful celebration of life’s ups and downs, recorded with the kind of musical detail only a seasoned band can master. It moves from soulful acoustic tracks to big, danceable hits like “Suzanna,” all held together by the signature harmonies of the Kenyan kings of Afropop. They tackle topics like sobriety and marriage with a mature perspective that feels earned.

Warm and inviting, ‘Midnight Train’ plays like a homecoming shared among close friends. It is a feel-good record that honours their East African roots while extending its reach outward, reaffirming Sauti Sol’s place as a benchmark for contemporary African bands. – M.A.

 

‘Celia’ – Tiwa Savage 

Tiwa Savage’s third studio album, ‘Celia,’ was released in August 2020. While the album might have arrived in the thick of the pandemic, it didn’t harbour any of the restrictive mood or energy of that era. Instead, on ‘Celia,’ Tiwa luxuriates in her sexual impulses, driven in her pursuit of life, and unapologetic about her womanhood, producing what is arguably her strongest album to date. The album neatly fuses Afropop and R&B with subtle touches of Dancehall and Funk, while also showcasing a refined maturity in both her songwriting and vocal delivery. – B.A.

 

‘Afro Pop Vol 1.’- Adekunle Gold 

In the history of evolutions by Afropop artists, Adekunle Gold holds a compelling record for reinvention.  ‘Afro Pop, Vol. 1’ arrived on the back of a daring move to desert the familiar folk motifs that characterised his artistry on his previous albums, ’Gold’ and ‘About 30,’  and follow those enjoyable projects with an entirely Pop-focused outlook. Naming it after said genre was a bolder step, and true to its title, it housed one of Afropop’s most notable album intros on Nailah Blackman’s chanty feature, “AG Baby.”   Alongside multiple solo and collaborative Dance- inducing records, including the Patoranking-assisted dancehall banger, “Pretty Girl,” “Okay,” and “Something Different,” Afro Pop, Vol. 1’  remains a high watermark in Adekunle Gold’s oeuvre. – M.E.

 

‘The Angel You Don’t Know’ – Amaarae 

Not many debut albums can replicate the polychromatic brilliance of ‘THE ANGEL YOU DON’T KNOW.’  Amaarae’s eccentricity created a whole alternate universe with only one rule: Fuck it, this is me, and the world must comply. Through an immersive kaleidoscopic collision of Afropop and Dance, she blithely addresses identity on “FANCY,” introversion on “LEAVE ME ALONE,”  braggadocio on the cunty “TRUST FUND BABY,” and desire on “CELINE” and “FEEL A WAY.”  A quintessential gift, “SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY,” scored renown a year after its release, giving rise to one of Afropop’s biggest cross-cultural hits, underscoring the fact that ‘THE ANGEL YOU DON’T KNOW’ is a worthy addition to the canon of great African albums. – M.E. 

 

‘Subaru Boys: FINAL HEAVEN’ – Cruel Santino 

In March 2022, Santi officially opened the gates to his fantastical, hyper-vivid Subaru World with the release of his official sophomore album, ‘Subaru Boys: FINAL HEAVEN.’ A sprawling, cinematic 21-track rollercoaster, the album is built on distinctive, hazy soundscapes courtesy of the Monster Boys, intriguing narrative arcs and Nigerian street culture. The result is an immersive, detailed experience that Santi has continued to build on even after the album’s release, with accompanying visuals, a manga and more content that solidifies his vision as an auteur. – B.A.

 

‘Palmwine Music 3’ – Show Dem Camp WO

Show Dem Camp really know how to rap, but just as importantly, they know how to curate moods and vibes without sacrificing their technical rigour, as shown across their ‘Palmwine Music’ albums. ‘Palmwine Music 3,’ the thrilling finale for the series, is a legitimate would-be classic that bears the mark of excellence and unrestrained imagination we’ve come to expect from a typical SDC album.

Billed as a thematic focus on love in Lagos, the album meanders between styles and radio skits with a sense of ease that’s only matched by the album’s grooviness. Whether it’s Oxlade laying claim to a lover on “Mine Alone,” or Mannywellz dropping an unforgettable hook on the steamy “Freaky,”‘Palmwine Music 3’ effectively functions as a map of romance in the 21st century and is an unmatchable high for Alternative Pop in the 2020s. – W.O.

 

‘19 & Dangerous’ – Ayra Starr 

While it was crystal clear that she would be unrivalled from the moment her first body of work graced Afropop’s scene, Ayra Starr’s debut album ‘19 & Dangerous,’  through a meticulous approach to identity, stamped the notion of her being a generational force. Mirroring the salient themes of youthful exuberance, she explored a novel approach to defiance on “Cast,” explored her long-intended relationship with fashion on “Fashion Killa,” and reclaimed herself on “Bloody Samaritan.”  No project by a burgeoning Afropop star has duly represented the angst of teenagehood, especially as a young girl learning the ropes of finding self as comprehensively as ‘19 & Dangerous.’  – M.E 

 

Interview: FOLA Is Fully Loaded

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

In late 2025, just ahead of his debut album, we published a piece examining FOLA’s blistering rise to Afropop’s summit, what lay ahead, before concluding he was on the brink of greatness. In a little over a year since his delightful earworm “alone” charmed its way into the hearts of the masses in 2024, the self-proclaimed “striker”–a nod to his deep love for football–had begun putting up amazing metrics across the board. The groundwork laid by “alone,” a track that introduced his dulcet brand of Afropop, which heavily leans into R&B, was quickly built upon with a successful debut EP and a string of high-profile collaborations that set the stage perfectly for his official studio debut, ‘catharsis.’ 

Six months after the release of ‘catharsis,’ FOLA is talking me through the making of the album as he prepares to take it on the road for his first-ever tour. ‘It feels good, I won’t lie,’ he tells me–his voice calm yet carrying the slight tremor of pre-tour excitement–over a call one Monday afternoon in late March, when I ask how he’s feeling ahead of his tour.

Released in September 2025, his debut was met with instant critical and commercial acclaim, clocking over a hundred million streams on Spotify in just a few weeks of its release. While pre-released singles like “you” and the Lagos-inspired “eko” had already primed listeners for what was to come, the full-length delivery of the 11-track album stamped his arrival as a major league player, fully aware of his own capabilities. 

New tracks like “caricature,” the cinematic opener “gokada,”“golibe’ and the soul-soothing ballad “healer” became instant fan favourites, solidifying his reputation as a truly compelling Afropop star. After two home headline shows, FOLA is ready to sing to hundreds of his fans at the 02 Indigo, the first stop of his Live In Concert tour across the United Kingdom. 

 

We sat down with the star ahead of his tour, discussing his come-up, the making of his debut album, his recent short film with Funke Akindele and his stage craft. 

This interview has been lightly edited for clarity. 

If you were asked to briefly explain your come-up story, how would you describe it? 

It was easy at times, and it was so hard at other times. I just kept working, perfecting my sound: Afrobeats with a touch of soul and a little bit of R&B. Now, I’m here. 

Speaking of R&B, who were some of the people you listened to growing up, and do you think they have helped shape the kind of music you make right now?

To be honest, I grew up listening to a lot of Gospel music. But I also listened to some artists who have influenced the kind of music I make now. I liked artists like Wande Coal, Tuface Idibia and 9ice. When I was younger, I would tell some of my big bros that I was interested in making music, and they told me that if I was really serious about it, I should listen to artists like Wande Coal and 9ice. That’s why I started listening to those acts a lot. I also liked international acts like Chris Brown and Beyoncé. 

Do you think the gospel music you listened to also influenced your own music?

Oh, for sure, it really did. I listened to a lot of Tope Alabi and Yinka Ayefele. So naturally, I picked up influences from those people as well. 

Your first project, ‘What A Feeling,’ was released in late 2024. Can you tell me a bit about how that came together?

I didn’t even know I was going to put out a project that year, frankly. I was just doing my thing, going to the studio as usual, but I didn’t have much buzz at the time. I kept putting out singles, and God did, “alone” below up. Most of the songs that ended up on ‘What A Feeling’ were recorded before I had my big break. I just needed someone to tell me, ‘shoot.’ 

Less than a year later, you released your debut album ‘catharsis.’ The reception has been great since its release. What was the experience like putting together your very first album? 

My favourite memory from making this album was the session where I made “golibe” with Victony. We spent about 12 hours in the studio making the song. It was just true passion for music. We made a couple more songs together, but we decided on “golibe” for the album. 

My personal favourite is “caricature.” I had recorded the song even before I dropped my first EP, but I always had so much faith in the song. A week before the album dropped, I had to take out one song off the tracklist, and I almost took out “caricature,” but I’m glad I eventually left it on the album. I recorded “you” with Kel-P, and it took four sessions to complete, but it was worth it. It’s such a smash record right now. Young Jonn sent the verse for “Disco” in under 24 hours. That was super jiggy. 

 

You’ve been doing more live shows recently, and you’re about to kick off your first-ever tour. What has been your experience doing these recent shows, and how do you think you’ve been able to hone your stage craft over the years? 

It’s not about the music alone. It’s wider than that. I really love performing, so I’m always working on it. If you don’t see me posting, I’m working on my performance. I know I have to get better at it. It’s a wider stage now, a wider audience. I’m also particular about singing live. I don’t believe in playing backing tracks while performing. I want a band onstage to play some instruments, and I just want to sing. 

You released a short film for “eko,” which starred and was directed by Funke Akindele. What was it like working on that project? 

It was really good. Funke Akindele is someone I grew up watching. She’s such a big figure. She’s a big fan of my music, and she’s shown me so much love. She calls me regularly to check in and give me advice. She’s been in the entertainment industry for over 25 years, so she has all the experience I need. To be honest, I loved acting in the short film. I used to act back in the day, mostly in church plays. But I knew I could sing more than I could act. When the opportunity came to do the short film with Aunty Funke, I couldn’t resist. 

Your acting skills in the Eko short weren’t too bad at all. Is acting something you think you’ll love to do more of in the future? 

I don’t think so. I love fashion too, so I think I’ll prefer to venture into that more in the future. I could become a model, who knows. 

 

What can fans look forward to regarding new music this year? 

I’m fully loaded, I promise. I’m always working, I’m always recording. I don’t have a lot of hobbies, so I think that has helped me. I just want to watch football, play FIFA, maybe go to the gym and get back into the studio. I have a lot of new music coming. 2026 is the year, I promise. 

Interview: Zee Nxumalo Wants You To Dance  

Posted on by The Native

Zee Nxumalo might just be at the start of her career, but the Swazi-South African singer approaches her craft with the even-keeled maturity of a veteran. Since her single, “Funk 55,” catapulted her to mainstream success, Nxumalo has taken to music with aplomb, meeting each level with strategy and planning that she credits to her willingness to learn. “I think it actually comes from the urge of wanting to learn more,” she tells Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio. “Because you know, as you keep on learning more, you realize, ‘No, actually it gets bigger, it gets better. I can get better with time.'”

After ending 2025 as the most streamed female musician in South Africa, the star is setting her eyes on new targets, starting with the release of her extended play, ‘IZINJA ZAM,’ next week. Crafted in partnership with 3-Step icon, Dlala Thukzin, the project is a tribute to having a good time, writing a new page in African Dance Music in unique fashion as only Nxumalo can. One week before the release of ‘IZINJA ZAM,’ she comes on Africa Now Radio to discuss her career so far and the demands of growing. 

The conversation has been edited for length and clarity. 

What’s the goal for the new project?

I want people to dance. I genuinely want people to dance and have a good time. I mean, there are spiritual songs in the music, and that’s what I wish people could take time listening to. There’s a song, it’s my favorite song, “Igama Lami,” I think I’m going to make it the lead single. So, the song is an internal conversation that I’m having with myself. So, you know the thing about what would future Zee say? I actually did it in the song. So, I’m telling future Zee, “Ukuthi isimo sibi, konakele, izinto azihamani, kamoshakale.” And then future Zee says, “Zisoma izithazihasele. Ufuna makukfuna kfhole ubalindele.” Yo, it’s such a beautiful song. I wish people can feel what I felt when I was doing that song. Yeah, but I want people to dance.

What’s it like working with Dlala Thukzin?

So when I went to Durban, I just wanted to learn how some people work. Because I had started being in Joburg, I was boiling to want more. So, it was like, let’s see what we can take from Durban. We spent a week with Dlala Thukzin, and then we made beautiful music. Music that you listen to and you’re like, “Let’s release this.” Like, “Okay, let’s just give it to the people.” You know, that’s how confident we were with this music. So yeah, it was Durban, obviously with the help of other producers as well, but the majority of the production is Dlala Thukzin.

What does winning awards mean to you?

The recognition means so much. I always take it like that. I have this thing of let’s just look at the positive of it because if we focus too much on the negative, we’ll fail to celebrate what God has actually given us. So, no matter how bad the situation is, ngithi noma waphu-munga-winanga-lutho, it’s the fact that just the recognition, kusho ukuthi ngiyitshaye game because I’m my biggest fan. But with me with awards, I’m just grateful for the recognition; I don’t want to lie. And being the most nominated artist at Metro FM 2026, that for me was a win. 

How do you handle growth?

I’m still growing, you understand? And maybe I’m doing things that one day I’m going to be like, “Mmm, I shouldn’t have done that.” You know, and that’s what comes with growing, mistakes. So with me, it’s just accepting my nature of being a female because there’s DNA that contributes. That means there comes a time in the month when I’m moody. At least I’m able to be like, “Okay, maybe I’m not in this space to be interacting with people, maybe ngizophawana nama-emotions,” you know, because that’s just who I am, I am female. But it’s a learning process. Ngiyaphunda. Maybe after 10 years, I’ll come back to you with a proper answer.

How are you processing getting popular beyond South Africa?

I think it actually comes from the urge of wanting to learn more. Because you know, as you keep on learning more, you realize, “No, actually it gets bigger, it gets better. I can get better with time, yabo? So I think much of the credit I’d give to my nature of wanting to learn. For example, when I was in Alex and when I was cool in Alex, anyone could have been like, yeah, actually I’ve reached the pinnacle of Alex, but you can actually get cooler than Alex and get out of Alex and do dope [things]. Then you’re like, no, it gets bigger than dope, South Africa. Then when you start obviously interacting with people from other places, like you can actually be big in South Africa and go global. 

What helps you dream bigger?

I think much of the credit should be given to my team, honestly. That’s what I like about working with people who are more advanced than you are. For example, I come from Alex, and most of my team members come from the North, [so] they’ve been exposed.  So those are the people who have also helped me dream bigger. I remember at one point when they were like, “You know, you need to get a stylist.” I’m like, “I-stylist iyabhadalwa? You must pay someone to dress you up?” But it’s just not the same, or maybe you just can’t be that consistent, yabo? As opposed to having someone who’s actually doing this thing as a profession, there’s a difference. I mean, not saying you shouldn’t style yourself, it’s good to play around with your art, but the intention was taught by i-management yami, angifuni amampunge.

Are you trying to break through in Nigeria?

Let me start by saying I think the biggest platform is South Africa. And then from South Africa it gets better. In terms of reaching out continentally, we are trying to penetrate the Nigerian space. I found it very interesting, like the interest. So obviously, we’re reaching out to the other side. We were doing a panel talk there as well. So we are very much trying our luck in that Western Africa region. I’m hoping it’s going to go well. I think I’m ready now, because also with my sound, I’m very defined, because you know, I don’t have that thing where when you go to Nigeria, then you want to be Nigerian, because obviously, you are not yet ready. But if you’ve defined yourself in your own hometown, I think it’s going to go easier for us to come out in Nigeria and be fully Zee. You know what I’m saying? We are really trying the Nigerian market, and then I’m going on a UK tour as well, doing AfroNation. So yeah, we are going global. We are global. The main focus is just to go global.


Listen on Apple Music

 

Vanco Wants to Score the Best Night of Your Life

Posted on by Melony Akpoghene

Vanco never really second-guessed that his 2025 hit song “Ma Tnsani (Yalla Habibi)” would take off. “When I release something, I’m confident people will enjoy it,” the South African DJ/Producer tells NATIVE Mag. That confidence has guided him every step of his career, pushing him to walk away from his day job as a quantity surveyor to pursue music full-time after years of balancing both worlds. A chance trip to the Amsterdam Dance Event in 2018 revealed to him glimpses of what was possible and proved his creativity was worth the gamble.

To those just tuning in, Vanco seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Ma Tnsani (Yalla Habibi),” a collaboration with AYA, which was Ibiza’s most shazamed track of 2025, was evocatively contemporary in spirit, sitting right within the Afro-House revival happening globally and earning a successful remix from Tiësto. But Vanco is no overnight success. His foundational breakthrough came a decade earlier with 2015’s “Regeneration.” His journey since then has seen him continue to expand through constant travel, larger stages, and deeper engagement with diverse audiences and cultures, all of which feed back into his evolving sound.

 

This evolution unfolds against a broader shift in African Dance music, with South Africa remaining a fertile ground for the birth and blossoming of the different iterations of the sound across the continent. Raised on a cocktail of Gospel, Hip-Hop, and especially Kwaito—which he identifies as a precursor to contemporary styles like Amapiano and 3-Step—Vanco’s sound enables him to connect South Africa’s vibrant Dance tradition with parallel movements across the continent, specifically towards Nigeria, a territory he views as a primary creative foil. 

His new single with Deela, “Repeat,” is a thumping six-minute excursion through winding electro rhythms buried deeper into a shape-shifting bed of Afro-Tech, as Deela’s hypnotic chants lead it in headier directions. We caught up with the globetrotting artist as he prepared for a Hungarian tour stop to discuss his ever-expanding creative world and his mission to create resonant, memory-defining moments through music.

What have you been up to lately?

I’ve been up and down. I’ve been busy touring and making music on the road, while also balancing family time and spending time with friends. I’ve taken up interior design again as well, something I used to do when I worked in real estate as a construction engineer. Now, I pursue it as a hobby to help maintain balance in my life. Creatively, I feel I’m in a very good place. I’ve been travelling more and gaining exposure to new territories and larger stages, which has enriched my creative process. These experiences naturally find their way into my music.

Growing up, would you say you were very musically inclined?

Yes, very much so. In South Africa, music is a big part of our culture. It’s a form of expression for us, and it speaks to us in many ways, so you can’t deny or ignore it. From going to school and coming back home to spirituality, especially church, which is significant, music is always present. People are deeply rooted in spirituality, so music becomes part of the journey. In other words, you’re born into it.

What kind of music was playing when you were growing up?

Old-school music, of course, Gospel, which my parents played. There was also Kwaito and House music, as House was quite mainstream even then, you’d always hear it on the radio, along with a bit of Hip-Hop.

It’s interesting how you distinguished Kwaito from House music. Can you talk more about that?

Kwaito is different from House music. Kwaito is the originator, and much of the music is heavily influenced by it, including Amapiano and 3-Step. Most of our local music draws from Kwaito. It also comes from a time when South Africa gained freedom, so many artists used it as a form of expression and celebration. It was about sharing relaxed, enjoyable music to lift people’s spirits, given the country’s difficult history.

One of the things I like about Kwaito is the message behind it, the songwriting, and the melodies, especially the basslines. For me, the basslines on those songs are unbeatable. It’s something I always go back to. Even though I was young at the time, now that I’m an adult, I relive those moments. It brings a sense of nostalgia. Some songs carry strong messages about enjoying time with your boys, life getting better, and personal growth. Sometimes it’s about girls, too. It’s similar to Hip-Hop and Pop in that way, something people can relate to, especially in the hood. It’s positive, uplifting music.

 

What music have you been listening to lately?

I’ve been listening to old-school Hip-Hop and a lot of local music, such as uMaskandi, which is heavily guitar-driven with a distinct rhythm. I also listen to Highlife a lot. I enjoy it very much.

When did you realise you wanted to make music full-time?

I took a trip in 2018, when I was still running a construction consulting company with my mentor. It was my last year working as a quantity surveyor, in real estate development and interior design. I travelled to Amsterdam for a holiday, and that was my first ADE. People recognised me and were taking pictures because they had been listening to my music. At the time, I had been doing music part-time since 2015. That trip gave me confidence and belief. The following year, in 2019, I took a leap of faith and started doing music full-time.

Where were you in your career when you worked on “Ma Tnsani (Yalla Habibi)”?

I was in London. The idea started on the plane, mainly the melody. There’s a strong melody before the vocals come in. I often create ideas on flights, usually melodies, chords and grooves. Then the full song was produced in London.

Did you anticipate how successful it would become?

I always expect my tracks to do well, not in a cocky way, but in a positive and motivational sense. When I release something, I’m confident people will enjoy it. But the success of that track went beyond my expectations. I didn’t anticipate it reaching those heights, although I do believe in everything I put out.

How did “Repeat,” the collaboration with Deela, come about?

It was about good energy. These things aren’t always planned. I was introduced to Deela through my management, and we met at a studio session in London. We worked on the track, and it was good, but we felt strongly about this one. It was natural, just good vibes, and before you know it, you have something special.

How do you view the creative synergy between Nigeria and South Africa right now?

We are all Africans at the end of the day. The rhythms may differ, but they are connected. It’s important to bridge those cultural and musical gaps. Nigeria has a strong, long-standing music culture. You can see it in collaborations like AKA and Burna Boy. The Nigerian scene has incredible artists, with strong support within the community. That energy spreading across the continent is powerful. It’s time for Africa to explore its creativity and share it with the world.

Are there other Nigerians you’d like to work with?

I’m open to making good Electronic music with anyone. I really love Nigeria. I’ve been coming to play every year for the past five years, and I’ve become deeply connected with the culture. One of my favourite things to do is drive around and visit the Shrine. It’s a great way to understand the culture more deeply. I also enjoy watching local DJs, like Aniko, and seeing what others in the scene are doing. Meeting people and seeing the work from platforms like Spektrum is inspiring.

Are you experimenting with any new directions in your music at the moment?

I wouldn’t say I’m experimenting, but I’m open to making good Electronic music. The experimental side comes from working with different vocalists, artists, and producers across various genres. I’m focused on creating strong electronic music and developing within that space.

 

How would you say Electronic music has evolved from when you started releasing music until now?

It has definitely evolved. Social media, the internet, and AI have all played a role in that growth. Like any region, Africa has its own rhythm, which is different from other parts of the world. Europe also has its own distinct sound. Right now, Africa is in the spotlight. There were times when America, especially during the rise of hip-hop, was in focus, and later the UK had its moment. Now it’s Africa’s time to shine. The world is starting to catch up with what we are doing. We are different in our own way, and we are able to tell our own stories. In the past, people were not widely exposed to our creativity, but now they are discovering more African artists. It shows progress. It’s also helping to remove stereotypes about Africa and highlight our identity through music. 

You’ve been touring a lot. How has the experience been?

It’s been good. I’ve been touring for the past five years. Since 2019, which was my first European tour, I’ve continued performing. The difference now is that I’m playing bigger stages and more shows than before. It’s been a beautiful journey and a great experience. You get to learn about different cultures, then go back to the drawing board and incorporate some of those elements. As much as I’m African, I also take influences from other parts of the world through travel and performance. So far, I’ve adopted different sound qualities, mixing and engineering techniques, and even how DJs in other countries approach their business.

What do you want to make people feel on the dance floor?

I want people to have a memorable night, moments they can connect to their life experiences. For example, remembering when a particular track played during an important moment in their lives. I’ve performed at private events where couples got engaged after meeting on the dance floor. Those kinds of stories matter. I want people to leave with moments they will carry with them for life.

What does the next phase of your career look like?

It’s about staying committed to the music and the culture, and continuing to grow and improve. I want to take things to greater heights, be more innovative, and eventually create a platform for others. I would like to be an example for emerging artists, especially in Africa, who want to break into the international scene, and help them progress in their careers.

Listen to “Repeat” here.

Senegal’s Draconian Anti-LGBTQ Law Is Starting To Affect Lives

Posted on by Michelle Ejiro

Since the beginning of 2026, a fresh wave of homophobia has hit Senegal, with strong enforcement laws leading to multiple arrests of individuals suspected of engaging in same sex relations. This queer hunt has become the catalyst for doubling the already existing anti-LGBTQ law by Senegal’s National Assembly. 

On March 11 2026, Senegal legislators, with a vote ratio of 135 to 0, unanimously approved a bill to increase the maximum prison sentence from five years to a total of ten years. By the end of the same month, the Senegalese president, Bassirou Diomaye Faye, passed the bill into law, increasing additional fine rates from between 100,000 and 1.5 million CFA francs to a minimum of 2 million and up to 10 million CFA francs. 

 

Barely a month after the new anti-LGBTQ law was passed, its judicial effects have started to take effect with a conviction recently occurring on Friday, April 10, at the Pikine-Guédiawaye High Court in Dakar, where a man named Mbaye Diouf was found guilty of public indecency and committing unnatural acts. His arrest was initiated by a witness who filmed Diouf and an unidentified partner without their consent in what was labelled a “compromising scene.”  The witness then called for their arrest. However, only Diouf was arrested as he was unable to flee the scene while his partner absconded. 

Following his arrest, Diouf pleaded guilty, admitting he engaged in the act with an agreement to get paid 2,000 CFA francs, claiming he was unaware that his actions were illegal. The public prosecutor eventually sentenced him to six years’ imprisonment and requested him to pay an extra fine of 2 million CFA francs, which is approximately $3,591.

This case proves that Senegal has become unsafe for queer people, and the stringent enforcement won’t be alleviated anytime soon. This is the first case of many potential convictions, and it leaves the question: What is Africa’s obsession with queer people, and why are queer rights still being stifled?  Across the continent, 31 countries actively criminalise same-sex relationships with death penalties in Mauritania and some parts of Nigeria,  Somalia and Sudan where Sharia law is practiced. In other countries like Ghana, simply identifying as a queer individual or advocating for LGBTQ rights can lead to a jail term of five to ten years. 

Godwin Is Expanding the Frame With ‘RENDITIONS’

Posted on by Temiloluwa Adeyemo

Godwin is entering a defining stretch in his creative journey. Between the release of  ‘RENDITIONS,’  a piano-led reinterpretation of Nigerian classics, and Crocodile, a documentary chronicling a decade’s worth of work with his brothers in The Critics, his work is finding new visibility across both music and film. While these recent releases mark a step forward, they build on years of quiet development. Starting as a filmmaker in Kaduna, Godwin’s early work with The Critics established a practice rooted in consistency and self-direction, which are elements that continue to shape how he approaches his art today.

Now leaning more fully into music, that foundation carries through in his process and output. Before ‘RENDITIONS,’ Godwin had been building a body of work through ‘Road to Nirvana’ and ‘Atonement,’ where grief, faith, and memory were explored through stripped-back, narrative-driven songwriting. Alongside these releases, he started sharing piano-led reinterpretations of Nigerian classics online, gradually building an audience drawn to their simplicity. What began as loose, personal recordings slowly grew into something people kept returning to. ‘RENDITIONS’ emerged from that period, gathering those moments into a more intentional body of work while holding on to the intimacy that shaped them.

 

We caught up with Godwin to talk about his evolution, creative discipline, and what lies ahead.

You started as a filmmaker in Kaduna. How did growing up and working in Kaduna shape your creative approach?

Kaduna is where I spent my formative years, and even though I’m still quite young, it’s been all that I’ve really known. It has had a huge impact on me. More specifically, I’m from a place called Kudenden. It’s very small, almost like a village. People aren’t necessarily exposed to art or its possibilities, but they are very open-minded. When my brothers and I started exploring filmmaking, people didn’t fully understand what we were doing, but they supported us. They would watch our work and give simple feedback, like pointing out parts they liked. That kind of encouragement helped build my confidence as an artist, and the same goes for my brothers. The sense of community in Kudenda made us feel like we could do anything. We genuinely believed we could conquer the world.

Looking back at those early filmmaking days with The Critics, what was driving you then, and how has that motivation evolved?

That period was very important because it introduced me to consistent creation. It became a routine, a part of who I am. At first, it was simple; we could wake up and decide to shoot something. But as we grew, we realized there’s structure involved. You need budgets, planning, and coordination. That understanding of structure has helped me now, even in music. I already know what works for me. Film, music, and art in general are all connected. So, those early experiences have shaped how I approach everything creatively today.

You’ve been balancing filmmaking and music for years. How do those two sides of your creativity interact now?

My music is very visual and story-driven, and I also direct my own videos. There’s a natural overlap between the two. The skills I’ve learned over the years intersect in a way that allows me to express myself fully without abandoning one for the other. Right now, I’m prioritizing music. I haven’t made a film in about three or four years, but I still find ways to enjoy both within my journey.

The ‘RENDITIONS’ EP revisits some iconic Nigerian classics. What drew you to these particular songs?

Before I fully transitioned into being a musician, I used to make a lot of renditions, like my own versions of songs. These were mostly songs I grew up on. Nigerian music, Pop songs, all kinds. I would slow them down and play them on the piano so people could better understand and appreciate the lyrics. I didn’t change much beyond the tempo. I had a very small piano, but it helped me experiment and build confidence. I posted snippets online without expectations, but some went viral. People started asking for full versions, especially for special occasions like weddings. While I was on tour recently, the idea came back, and we recorded full versions on the road, in hotels, and whenever we had free time. The songs we chose were among the most requested, and they hold deep personal meaning. They represent my early musical experiences and highlight the richness of Nigerian music.

 

Was there any track on the EP that felt too big or intimidating to touch at first?

Not really. When I was younger, I had a mindset of wanting to make something even better than the original. I always aimed to create versions that felt uniquely mine so people could immediately recognize them as my interpretation. There was one song I made out of pure curiosity. I saw an interview where someone said they didn’t like people covering their music, so I decided to make a version anyway. That was more of a playful moment.

These songs have meant a lot to many people over time. What do you hope your versions add to the conversation around them?

I think they remind people that we come from somewhere, that there’s a rich musical history behind what we have today. For those who know the originals, it brings back nostalgia. For new listeners, it introduces them to that era of Nigerian music. It’s about appreciation. Going back and reconnecting with the music and the memories attached to it.

The documentary Crocodile captures your journey with The Critics over more than a decade. What did seeing your story on screen reveal to you about yourself?

Watching it on a laptop is one thing, but seeing it on a big screen with an audience is completely different. It gave me a deeper understanding of myself and my brothers. Sometimes we live our lives without fully understanding each other’s perspectives. The film provided context. It helped me see moments I may have misunderstood before. It brought me a lot of happiness and clarity. It also reminded me that we’ve come a long way and that we have every reason to hope for a bright future.

How did it feel seeing your film on a global stage like the Berlinale?

It was amazing. When the director from New Zealand first reached out, we actually ignored her for months. Eventually, we connected, understood her vision, and worked together over time. At that point, we weren’t thinking about global recognition. It was just our lives. When the film got that level of exposure, it was incredibly rewarding. It felt like a dream we had always hoped for.

What’s next for you creatively? Is there a new direction or part of yourself you’re excited to explore?

An album. That’s what I’ll say for now. We’re working on the next project, and the past few months have been really inspiring. It’s pushing me to think beyond what I previously imagined. I’m excited to explore all the possibilities with this next body of work.

Listen to ‘RENDITIONS’ here. 

How King Saheed Osupa Became A Timeless Pop Culture Icon

Posted on by Foyin Ejilola

“Where is Saheed Osupa?” 

Last September, Saheed Osupa was conspicuously absent at the coronation of the 44th Olubadan of Ibadan, Oba Rashidi Ladoja. This dashed the hopes of many for a performance that captured the cultural essence of the event. Ultimately, it sparked an appreciation of the Fuji star’s style as one distinctly steeped in Yoruba culture through language, orature, and worldview. 

Since the time of Sikiru Ayinde Barrister, the pioneer of Fuji, the genre has produced some of the biggest stars in the history of Nigerian music. Each one has made a mark on the evolution of Fuji by infusing it with stylistic advances. Yet their success is mostly tied to how much they grasp and have been able to hone its foundational elements: Yoruba and Islamic music traditions, praise-singing, mastery of rhythms and percussion, cross-genre permutations, all primarily delivered in the Yoruba language. 

True to the qualities of a Fuji master, Saheed Osupa checks all these boxes. He then niches down, forcing us to see the Yoruba language beyond being a communicative tool but as an archive of historical knowledge and philosophical perspectives. To say his lyrics are incantatory, as I’ve heard many argue, is one of the most contemptuous remarks I’ve heard about the cultural prominence of his music. Still, it implies his status as a Yoruba knowledge keeper who uses Fuji as a bank. His work, from ‘Fuji Fadisco’ to ‘Oracle,’ takes listeners on a cultural exposition. 

 

A Man of The People

Younger Nigerians are currently buzzing with renewed interest in their indigenous cultures and languages. Artists like Asake, Adekunle Gold, and Seyi Vibez are taking global stages with the Yoruba language. In recent years, Fuji has become the new cool in the warm embrace of newer, younger consumers, some of whom are musicians innovating with it. 

2025, especially in its fourth quarter, saw this world of Fuji and cultural enthusiasts gravitate towards Saheed Osupa. In the face of incessant demands, he hosted the Olubadan Appreciation Night to make up for his absence at the coronation. He was the cynosure at AG Baby’s Fuji Street Carnival, which was hosted on October 5th, 2025, to mark the launch of ‘Fuji’, Gold’s sixth album. He graced the stage with Asake at the December Flytime Fest, giving the show one of its brightest highlights. This created more publicity for the second edition of Osupa’s Exclusive All-White Agbada Party, which he hosted about a week later. 

 

Much of the acclaim being held for Saheed Osupa is inseparable from his artful use of every linguistically possible Yoruba medium to achieve profundity. This has been a defining feature from the beginning of his career, through his own growth and the loss of Fuji’s momentum in the last decade, which kindled the fusion of Fuji and Hip-Hop, a sub-genre dominated by Wasiu Alabi Pasuma.

Starting with Saheed Osupa’s debut album, ‘Fuji Fadisco,’ he has shown a natural zest for spotlighting the Yoruba culture. In the two-track album, he pays homage to his Fuji predecessors and the extraterrestrial. He administers doses of sermonic lyrics. He self-aggrandises while reassuring himself of success in his career path. At this point, he shows his adventures in seeking out the Yoruba belief system while blending it with his birth religion, Islam. He likens himself to Ọ̀bàrà Bogbè, an odu ifa that he links to victory. In the face of adversity, he claims to have been instructed by the Iyas—the witches spiritually backing him—to turn to this odu as his nasiha, an Islamic concept that loosely means ‘advice’. 

Osupa, the cultural advocate, would surface in subsequent works. “Olaju De,” the third track from his 2007 ‘Reliable’ album, is the biggest instance to point at. The song starts by sharing the sentiments of each older Yoruba generation against the younger ones: they’re active participants in eroding cultural norms with every wave of modernity. It proceeds into being a lesson in ancient Yoruba practices, commenting on how technology and the other fruits of modernity in the postcolonial era have changed them. He ends it by clamouring for the reutilisation of these systems, an argument he drives home by insisting that Oyinbo, the white colonisers we emulate, have never abandoned their culture. With that, the track became the sound for radio and television shows themed around the advocacy for Yoruba culture. In “Vanacular,” a track off ‘Non Stop (Hip-Fuji)’ album in which he features Terry Apala, he charges elders with the responsibility of teaching the younger generations the Yoruba language. 

For scholars, Yoruba-centric creators, and initiatives enhancing cultural pride, Saheed Osupa is a source of reference and endless materials for knowledge expansion. Such is his contribution in this space that in 2024, he was conferred the title “Oba Afededara” by the Department of Linguistics, African Languages, and Communication Arts at Lagos State University (LASU). 

“Fuji Theatre” is one of Saheed Osupa’s most popular live performances. It stands out for its opening chorus, a lengthy, illustrative proverb whose literal interpretation was puzzling. Kọ́kọ́rọ́ alátẹ, t’òun t’àtẹ ni; òwú alátẹ, t’òun t’àtẹ ni. He directed the song at Fathia Williams, who was then in the thick of her separation from her ex-husband, Saidi Balongun. Years later, Tayo Bello (Waa Sere), one of Nigeria’s top Yoruba educators, analyses the proverb—all of its symbols point to the inherence of imperfection in humans. 

 

Similarly, Olalekan Fabilola of Másòyìnbó, a top Yoruba game show in Nigeria, often credits the impact of Saheed Osupa’s music on his language mastery as a then computer science undergraduate at Covenant University and now as a Yoruba language tutor and advocate. He would later tell him this in an episode in which he was featured. In these later years of Saheed Osupa’s career, he has built an audience faithful to Yoruba culture. For them, their fondness for him reinforces their identities as Yoruba culture advocates, alongside being Fuji fans. 

Osupa, the Deity 

The Yoruba music style favours functionality over creating for art’s sake. Thus, music is also tasked with the responsibility of expressing Yoruba’s didacticism, passing down lore, and preserving traditions. In matter and manner, Saheed Osupa delivers these functions with his music and, on occasion, the films he has made. 

He comments on societal happenings with the Yoruba worldview as a framework for sharing wisdom and extracting lessons. This is imbued with storytelling mastery, personal experience, and innovative use of Yoruba language aesthetics. The result is works that have evergreen relevance, just like the proverbial counsel of elders that never gets outdated. Of course, this validates Saheed Osupa’s claims when he refers to himself as a messenger divinely inspired. 

Realistically, he owes a part of his sagacity to the cultural model he has stuck with. This concept of relevance is directly taken on in “Ilu mi,” a track from his 2009 ‘Mr Music’ album. Culled from the Yoruba emphasis of being sensitive to one’s environment and acting accordingly, he urges fellow musicians to follow this principle by illustrating the ridiculousness of singing a dirge at a housewarming. Fans would cite this as the shortcoming of Taye Currency’s performance during Olubadan’s coronation. 

For his Olufimo fanbase, Saheed Osupa’s story—replete with hardships—moves them. They relate to his struggles. It justifies why his songs are often heavily themed with ọ̀rọ̀ ìyànjú, words of relief to uplift his listeners. His breakthroughs are aspirational, a major one being when Sikiru Ayinde Barrister crowned Saheed Osupa the King of Music. The Fuji Pioneer declared no one worthier, praising Saheed Osupa for fusing melody with lyrical depth that conveyed the prudent counsel of the Yoruba language. 

The history of this particular endorsement is written in supremacy battles that further tore the Fuji community into factions and intensified the lyrical war Saheed Osupa had been waging against his counterparts, particularly Pasuma. Studying Osupa’s conduct during this season of rivalries introduces one to Orin Eebu (songs of insult), a facet of Yoruba music tradition delivered with invectives. During conflicts, its purpose is to air one’s grievances indirectly. 

“Kolokolo Okota,” “Akuko Omole,” “Tanta Rubber,” and “Nuclear Weapon” are some of the potent case studies of how Saheed Osupa is a master at wielding this weapon when his ire gets drawn. Much of his fight was about establishing that he was second to none (read: Pasuma) and resisting titles that reflected otherwise. In a linguistically impressive way of doing this, he once refers to Pasuma—when he was known as the Otunba Fuji—as a crab-eater and he (Osupa), a consumer of crayfish in their supremacy race. “Otunba ti j’akan to ri o ti jeyi to kan, Awa jede jede lo ku ta tun le je’mi si,” he sang. 

Per the phrasing of the song, he declares Pasuma unfit to be crowned the King of Fuji. In Yoruba culture, heirs are forbidden from eating crabs lest they never ascend the throne. The shared context in the Fuji industry is Pasuma’s deputy position in King Wasiu Ayinde’s faction. As Oluwarotimi Ogungbemi and Ganiu Bamgbose affirm in Imagery in Fuji Music: Saheed Osupa as an Exemplar, being a deputy to some other king in the past is the inference of crab eating, which prohibits anyone from becoming a king. These two have since sheathed their swords, but Osupa rarely passes on self-adulating and shaming detractors. The songs of invectives are also still very much within his reach. 

 

Like many other Fuji musicians, Osupa has had many earnest yearnings. One is to have an everlasting reign and command honour in one’s music career. “Bàbá jẹ́ kí n lẹ́yìn nídìí iṣẹ́ orin kí n gbayì títí dalẹ́,” he pleads on “Reliable Pt 2”.  His prayers are being answered manifold: He is revered as a maker of timeless, grounded music. He is a teacher in the lifelong class of the Yoruba language and wisdom. The two top songs in the first quarter of 2026, Kayode’s “Aimoye” and Oshamo’s “Shina Rampe”, can be respectively traced to the fifth track off Saheed Osupa’s ‘Reliable’ album and the third of ‘Mr Music (Ore Niwon).’ More significantly, Saheed Osupa’s work is a reference point for a new generation of musicians carrying the Yoruba language further in their own unique fashion.

Interview: 17 Just Wants To Tell His Story 

Posted on by The Native

The walls of separation between disparate parts of people’s lives are quickly disintegrating in this generation, and the arrival of 17’s new extended play, ‘More To Life,’ holds further proof of that evolution. For much of his life, the Nigerian-British star, more popularly known as Alex Iwobi,  has been judged by what he can do on the football pitch, but he’s keen to show that there’s more to him than we know. 

It’s a moment that has long been in the works, with the rapper starting to release music in 2024. Since then, he’s sharpened his voice and vision, setting the stage for the arrival of his debut project, ‘More To Life,’ where he’s letting listeners into the minutiae of his life as a young and gifted black man navigating the parameters of his stardom without losing sight of his priorities.  With features from Fido, 24AM (fellow footballer, Amadou Onana), and TeniolaTime, 17 is stepping out to tell his story on his own terms. 

We hear that you love padel?

Of course, everyone knows that I like my football, I like my music.  Then, even recently, my friends and I have been trying to get into things like padel. I’ve played twice, and I’m already trying to book my next session. I’m actually enjoying it. So, whatever we try to like, we think, oh, let’s test it and see what we can do, we just try to enjoy ourselves. So the reason why obviously ‘More to Life’ is the best way to describe everything is that with my friends and me, with my family and me, we always say there’s more to life.

Why did you start releasing music?

I’ve been going to the booth with my friends for over like 15 years. So like, it’s always a hobby that my friends and I like, we just like to go in the booth, just talk about our lives, talk about what’s going on with us. Literally, whatever comes to mind, we literally just lay it into some lyrics and just put it on the mic. But then, only I’d say like four years ago, towards the end of my career at Everton, we said, “Ah, like, maybe we should put out your music. Like, what do you think?” And I thought, “Yeah, you know what? I think it’s time.” I think it’s time, like, of course, everyone knows Alex Iwobi the footballer, but I feel like it’s time, people see that I have more than just football hobbies, that I like to indulge in a lot of things. And obviously, music is one of them.  I don’t want people thinking I’m distracted with my music because, at the same time, football is my main profession. I feel like ever since I had the move to Fulham, it’s been the right time. My manager gives me the license to go and express myself outside the football pitch. My friends are giving me that freedom, and my family gives me that freedom. So when a lot of people are giving me that green light, I feel confident just to express myself through music. 

How did you approach making the opening track?

It’s an introduction to showcase what you’re going to hear for the rest of the tracks, to just hear like, and to understand that you’re going to hear about my life, you’re going to hear about what I go through, my experiences. And obviously, it’s called “Track Zero” because I’m giving credit to E-Man, he tried to be different. He didn’t want it to be just an intro. He said, “Let’s do something different.” I literally just started talking about me and how I see things, my vision on life. And obviously, the last bar, “there’s a whole new person just unleashed”. So with this EP, it’s time for me to come out of my shell. You’re going to hear my sounds.

How did you discover Amadou Onana could make music?

So with Amadou, that’s like my little brother, even though he’s like 24 inches taller than me. We went bowling once, and then after we went karaoke, and you know, when you go karaoke, normally it’s just like a bit of fun, you’re not expecting people to sound good. He started singing, and everyone was like, “Oh my god, he can sing.” So that’s the first time I thought, “Wow, you can actually sing.” So, I spoke to him. I said, “You actually like to do music?” He said, “Yeah,” he writes his own music. And I said, “Oh, like maybe one day we should link up and go to a studio. I have to give a shout-out to a group called Footballers’ Fits. They organised the session, and we created two songs. But one of the songs is obviously on the EP. Amadou is a talent. He’s another one who’s doing well with his football, but he can sing, and he’s got more to give as well. There are projects from him that are on the way as well.

How did you make “Bussdown?”

So my boy AT, Alex Teniola, obviously, he’s in a relationship. All of us were just talking about how we feel when we’re with girls, like what goes through our minds, and obviously, we like to be confident. So, it’s a smooth one, it’s a nice one, and it’s how I felt in the moment. We made the song, I think, like two, three years ago when I first signed for Fulham, so I was number 22. So, there’s a bar I say about the 22 in it. I was literally talking about the time when I was like, there were people, or like I had a certain someone that I was with at the time, and she was like, “Yeah, like 22,” and like it was nice, man. Everyone was talking about how they really feel in the time.

Are you the first footballer to release music?

Potentially, but my uncle did release a couple of tracks on YouTube, I believe. So I mean, obviously, he wasn’t known for his music, so maybe I might be able to take him up on that.

 

Review: Omah Lay’s ‘Clarity Of Mind’

There is something inherently spiritual about artists deeply plugged into the essence of their sounds. Spirituality, not acutely in the sense of honoring a certain deity or extra-natural force, but the confident and superhuman manner in which they prance around the affairs of their craft. The music they make becomes an extension of their inner essence. Their listeners feel whatever they have inside: from pain to excitement, from the lowest points to the highest peaks. 

Omah Lay is a spiritual singer, and almost four full years after releasing his debut album, ‘Boy Alone,’ he has returned with a polarizing sophomore album, ‘Clarity of Mind.’ That’s as simply as it can be relayed when you leave out what came before the arrival of the music: his hiatus from the public, his cryptic SOS messages online, his managerial controversy, an assist on Davido’s Grammy-nominated track “With You,” and his allegations that the initial concept for his album had been stolen by one of his colleagues. 

On the night of his listening party in London, he came out carrying what looked like 20-kilogram dumbbells and pumped his arms until they could lift no more. In Lagos, he maniacally laughed when a fan asked if he was mad. And without any reference to his frantic period of exemption, he told Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio during an interview that he “has been chilling.” Throughout the rollout for ‘Clarity of Mind,’ he’s been moving with a kind of unbothered calm, and it doesn’t really make any sense. 

Well, that’s because it’s not supposed to make sense. On ‘Boy Alone,’ Omah Lay established the persona of a fighter caught between hedonism as an escape from his troubled mind and the deep blue sea of its effects. He talked about the risk of a burnt liver from smoking so much, the well of trauma he has pent up inside, and even stretched out to the pollution problem in his hometown of Port Harcourt. But the thing with preserving that fighter persona is that it only lasts for so long, and at some point, the fighter who has been attacking his problems with his guard up must eventually ease up for a bit.

Leaning back to watch the party die, Omah Lay begins with a direct message on the album opener of his sophomore full length, “ARTIFICIAL HAPPINESS.” He is conscious of the hold that his addiction has on him, but, ironically, isn’t willing to push back on its caustic effects: “Before morning, the feeling will wash off / But tonight, we will die at the warfront,” he sings. Produced by the trio of David Hart, Orlando, and Tempoe, the track is maintained on a single tempo. Besides the drums, shakers, and feeble synths that blaze across occasionally, it’s mostly Omah’s vocals that steal the show, setting the stage for the album’s slippery feel. 

 

On “CANADA BREEZE,” he continues to emphasize giving in to the euphoric sense of awareness that comes with being intoxicated and unattached. This disdain for appendages runs throughout the album. Omah orders his Bisi not to hold on to anything they might have shared on “JAH JAH KNOWS,” because he is as clueless as she is and has dropped all attempts to figure things out. All of this culminates in the theme of peace as derived from apathy.  Rather than trying to make meaning out of a life that’s progressively becoming more puzzling, he prefers to leave it all to the fates. 

Not only is Omah Lay intoxicated with the serenity of not trying, but his hubris on “I AM” has him at a point where he believes he is supreme. He takes no dissension nor prisoners, and again only admits the counsel of his weed. It is like the classic braggadocio that defines art makers, except that Omah’s muffled incantation of the biblical reference “I am who I am” on most of the song is intended to convince listeners to take him seriously. 

The Tempoe-produced “DON’T LOVE ME,” however, introduces a new dilemma. Omah’s escape routes—the quick thrills of his Hennessey and marijuana, and other instant forms of gratification—aren’t as effective as before. Nonetheless, he won’t stop chasing them, and on “WATER SPIRIT,” he narrates an unrestrained night with a lover in highly metaphorical details: “She is on her way to come and make it rain tonight/ All she want na vitamin D, all she need na vitamin D,” he drags out. It is a mirror of the iconic and nasty “Ye Ye Ye” from 2020, and his cadence echoes early 2000s sexy Afropop. In particular, the Desperate Chick’s verse on Dekumzy’s “Who Get Dat Thing” first came to mind when he began to float over the incandescent instrumental. 

Omah’s lyric-tenor allows him to consummately bounce in, out, and around pockets that Tony Duardo creates with his percussion-driven production. He bends his syllables and is nimble with his words to match BPMs that are orthodox to rap songs. Omah repeats the same trick on the first verse of the pre-released “WAIST,” and matches it with the choral motif that becomes fatiguing further along into the album. To listen to only Omah’s vocals, unfortunately, became an exercise in patience at some point. 

Conversely, that isn’t the case on “COPING MECHANISM,” the only collaboration on the album, which features Elmah. Although the Afrosoul singer has fewer than ten songs in her catalogue, she rose to prominence after her single, “New Boy In Town,” took over TikTok in 2024. “COPING MECHANISM” is the first touchy-feely track on the record. Elmah takes the opening chorus, and as tenderness and vulnerability slip through the vocals of both singers, Omah reaches a seminal point in the album.

 

During a pre-album interview in London, Omah Lay narrated how he had to deal with a breakup and losing in his Grammy category on the same night.  “I was at the Grammys, and while Justin Bieber was performing, I was having a breakup,” he said. “So, there were two performers.” Although he tries to make light of the situation, he goes deeper into his toxic connection with being in love, explaining how hard it is to be fully immersed in his craft when he has his heart out for someone else across ‘Clarity of Mind.’

The breakup becomes a turning point and brings him clarity. “CANADA BREEZE” is the first time he addresses it on the album, turning reality to art when he sings, “…lost my bae and award all in one day.”  After his and Elmah’s duet, he creates a pictorial version of that night on “JULIA.” He mentions that he had already set tables for his victory, looking as stunning as possible, anticipating celebrating with his partner, only to walk away with ghostly apparitions of what could have been. 

The production on the album is inspired, with his close collaborator, Tempoe, taking credit for seven of the total 12 songs on the album. The bounce on “JULIA” is the standout, as well as Tony Duardo’s trickery on “WATER SPIRIT.” Built mostly around muted percussion, there are occasional synths from time to time that give it a sort of dramatic feel, like at the end of “CANADA BREEZE,” and through “WATER SPIRIT.”  ‘Clarity of Mind’ closes with “AMEN,” a manifestation of a good life where Omah has nothing else than what he desires: enough money, new Louis Vuitton merchandise, and, of course, clarity of mind. 

For most of its runtime, ‘Clarity of Mind’ moves beyond the narratives explored on ‘Boy Alone.’ Omah’s inclination towards manicured lyrics and substance-powered escapism tones down the emotionality. Here, he’s no longer trying to fix his problems, but becoming one with them in characteristic fashion. For the singer, ‘Clarity of Mind’ isn’t about finding solutions to his substance problems or emotional irregularity; it is about embracing them. 

Listen to ‘Clarity of Mind’ here.

Igwe Aka Is Leaning Into Legacy On “EGONOMICS”

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

A quick look at Igwe Aka’s Instagram account reveals the precise moment his style shifted. A teaser post from the 9th of January marks that critical turning point. In this clear digital landmark, he debuted what turned out to be “KAPOW,” a viral track that has given the Nigerian-born, Sacramento-based rapper and singer a significant boost in local exposure and acclaim. 

Before the release of “KAPOW,” Igwe Aka had already garnered some buzz in Sacramento’s underground scene thanks to his experimentation with a range of Hip-Hop styles and even Rock-influenced music. The viral track, however, ingeniously merged those Western influences with distinctive melodic cadences of his native Igbo language, creating an authentic and refreshing sound that quickly drew admiration from local listeners here who found resonance with his new style. 

 

This potent fusion of influences and a discernible visual aesthetic that leans heavily into Y2K Nollywood imagery has been the bedrock of his recent run and has made him one of the most exciting names currently shaping the future of Nigerian music. It’s also the driving force behind his latest release, ‘Wawa Music,’ a two-pack that features the standout “EGONOMICS.” 

Produced by 3CB, one of the major architects shaping the sounds coming out of the burgeoning underground scene, “EGONOMICS” reaches deeper into Igwe Aka’s cultural roots and evolving musical sensibilities, putting on for the Ndi Wawa, a subgroup of the Igbo people primarily located in Ebonyi and Enugu, his home state. Over bouncy drums and a floating oja flute, a native instrument of the Igbos, he raps about how he’s focused on getting the bag with clever wordplays like ‘My pockets filled with crackers but they speaking in Ebonics,’ while also referencing regions and landmarks like Federal Housing and Mbaise that ground the song’s narrative within his lived experiences.

The promotional videos for the single, as well as most of his other releases this year, have been fit for purpose, as they feature Igwe Aka in specific, carefully selected locations that intentionally evoke a strong sense of place and local pride, nicely complementing the themes and context of his current music. 

 

“EGONOMICS,” and the rest of ‘Wawa Music,’ which includes the Odunsi The Engine-assisted “BACKASSI,” exists within a broader trend of emerging acts pushing against the homogenisation of Afropop by taking strong inspiration from their roots and making something familiar but also forward-thinking. The recent viral success of Kayode’s “AIMOYE,” which samples King Saheed Osupa’s “Reliable Pt.5” lends credence to the trend. 

Other emerging acts like Luwa.Mp4, S1orDie, and Indi are similarly merging old and new influences to create something unique, and the release of “EGONOMICS” ensures Igwe Aka remains at the forefront of this movement, shaping and defining the future of Nigerian music. 

Listen to “EGONOMICS” here. 

Apex Village Wants To Leave Its Mark On Nigerian Hip-Hop With ‘Welcome 2 The Ville’

Posted on by Chinonso Ihekire

Seven years ago, somewhere in the heart of Nigeria’s bustling capital city, Abuja, Apex Village sprang to life under the aegis of Psycho YP and his sister/manager Cindy Ihua, with a talented group of mavericks, including Zilla Oaks, Kuddi, and Marv OTM in tow. By 2019, they had etched their first sonic offering as a group, with the 8-tracker ‘Welcome to the Ville’ album. The record showcased their brilliant progressive rap persona, outlier stories, and team spirit, rebelling against the idea that it was impossible to gain significant momentum with their music from anywhere other than Nigeria’s cultural capital, Lagos.

Now, their recent sophomore album, ‘Welcome 2 The Ville,’ expands that vision. The 14-tracker spin introduces Laime, Azanti, Uloko, and Thrill Max, positioning the group as a vanguard of Hip-Hop’s generational shift in Nigeria. The record weaves melodic Rap, street poetry, and hustler narratives, featuring a lineup of collaborators spanning Nigeria and the UK, including Arieenati, Kemuel, Bkay EastGaad, Zhud Jdo, Rjayondtrack, Tyira, Not3s, and Jeriq.

The soothing baritone of Nigerian broadcaster EDK opens up ‘Welcome 2 The Ville.’ “Monday is here! Brand new work week! We made it!” The radio-dub interlude segues into the trippy, anthemic hi-hats and Afro-Trap melody that structure the album’s opener, “God No Go Shame Us,” setting the tone for the ambitious youth memento that the entire record preaches. The song is a braggadocious duet between Psycho YP and Azanti where YP’s pidgin-inflected chorus, “Now when I don cash out from the Maye/ God no go shame us,” opens up room for Azanti’s hazy vocals as they affirm their self-belief and reliance on God’s providence. 

With most of the tracks produced by Apex sonic honcho Thrill Max, the rest of the record possesses that suspenseful, anthemic feel that introduces the group’s grandeur. In the second track, “How Far” (with Uloko, Psycho YP, and Marv OTM), the group introduces its polarizing Afrobeats shift, which began with earlier tracks like “Extracurricular Activities.” The same crew talking about the signposts of their financial success is reminiscing on earlier financial struggles. Uloko, who is a more recent member, brings on his Pop-leaning alto as he talks about his materialistic shayla from Tinapa. 

From there, the album segues into “Been A Minute” (with Laime, Aguero Banks, and Marv OTM), which brings their rap focus into full view. The track, which should have been a filler track at best, springs to the front burner, but the high-octane energy from Laime and Aguero on the track revs the record into an instant replay addiction. Trading bars in Pidgin, Igbo, and English juices the song with an instant relatability and groove that finds legitimacy among contemporary Hip-Hop records.

The polyphonic groove, melding hi-hats, 808s, Trap drums, backing vocals, and punchy bars, continues in the next track, “Anymore” (with Laime, Psycho YP and Arieenati) as they dive into their Kanye-esque energy in this track. Swapping stories of “pearls and diamonds as their fashion style” and “flying to Calabasas”, as they reflect on their quintessential ‘bad b,’ the record finds its footing in the raspy paces from both YP and Laime, who enshrine their deliveries with hard-hitting enunciation.

By the time the album spins into “No Hand$” (with Kemuel and Psycho YP), the album displays Apex Village’s versatility. Kemuel delivers feathery vocal smoothness; YP counterbalances with UK Drill cadence. Other tracks, like “Can’t Complain” and “Memories,” maintain this balance of R&B melodies and Trap grit. “Practice,” a solo track, showcases YP’s range, while his presence across nearly every track cements him as both the collective’s creative anchor and lead melodic voice. His dual upbringing in the UK and Nigeria is audible in his fusion of Afropop and Trap.

The entire album thrives on a particular tempo that prioritizes cohesiveness. Each track seeps into the other with familiar piano chords and suspenseful ambient melodies that buffer its Hip-Hop feel. The storytelling also follows a similar sequence, where braggadocio and hustling take centre-stage, while romance appears as a minority. For a collective like Apex, the stories feel like hair on skin, easily arriving as natural, intimate, sincere stories, like reading chapters from their personal journals. The celebratory, defiant, and ambitious mood that defines the album is, perhaps, the most exciting part of the music. It’s an instant adrenaline jolt, with no waning moments and instant replay value.

The album draws its curtains with “Memories.” The soothing, lithe vocals from Tyira, “I don’t want to lose you,” hang like thick clouds in the air, before Thrill Max’s airy drums usher in Laime’s Pop-Soul-leaning verse. Psycho YP’s pidgin bars surface again, as he odes to his roots, “From Rivers State, make dem no dey follow me play.” This particular track reveals the synergy between Laime and Psycho YP, who appear to be the most versatile in the entire group. Whether it’s blending their energetic Southern Nigerian spirit or their American-inspired Trap flows, the cousins understand the subject of tonal clarity in each of their collaborations.

Overall, ‘W2TV’ feels like a very fluid, progressive arrangement of ideas, sonics, and storytelling. The choice of features also ranks as one of the record’s strongest pillars, with invigorating contributions from indigenous rappers like Aguero Banks, Jeriq, to stylized UK/US Trap from Psycho YP, Marv OTM, and Bkay EastGaad, as well as Pop-Soul-influenced delivery from Laime, Azanti, and Kemuel. With brazy-but-intimate lyrics, each track feels well-tailored to feel uplifting, introspective, yet still giddy.

In some ways, the album is essentially a statement-making document of Apex Collective’s rise as one of Nigeria’s most vibrant and impactful Hip-Hop crews in recent times. Nearly a decade after rising to fame, Apex Village revives the communal, storytelling energy of earlier collectives like the Choc Boiz while tweaking it for today’s expansive, multi-genre soundscape. With clever lyricism, meticulous production, and carefully curated features, ‘Welcome 2 The Ville’ positions the group as both chroniclers and architects of Nigerian Hip-Hop’s next era. 

Interview: Omah Lay Wants ‘Clarity Of Mind’

Posted on by The Native

Since Omah Lay rose to mainstream consciousness during the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, the Port Harcourt native has built a reputation as one of Afropop’s most conceptual-driven performers, blending sounds and moods in homage to his overarching vision, whether it was exploring the perks of superstardom on ‘What Have We Done’ or working through the emotional trappings of that success on ‘Boy Alone.’

‘Boy Alone,’ his debut album, released in 2022, was a triumph of his approach to making music and set the bar high for what was to come from the singer. Rather than give in to the pressure to craft a quickfire follow-up to ‘Boy Alone,’ the singer disappeared to work on his overall well-being, occasionally sharing singles and hinting at a follow-up to his critically acclaimed debut album. Nearly four years on from ‘Boy Alone,’ that follow-up, ‘Clarity Of Mind,’ has arrived, and per Omah Lay, it’s the sound of refreshment. “This is really clarity of mind, and with all of this resting and all of this chilling and just enjoying life, it just feels like, okay, it’s time,” he says. “It’s time to really start afresh.”

His conversation with Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio has been edited below for length and clarity. 

We’re speaking from the slopes of Austria. You’re skiing right now, how cool is that?

I’m having fun. I was just having fun with my life. And I think that’s the whole essence of my album. This album, ‘Clarity of Mind,’ is really just to enjoy life, you know? Life is really good.

What is ‘Clarity of Mind’ about?

You see, with ‘Clarity of Mind,’ I feel like for a while I kind of like decided to chill. Even though I was chilling, I was still getting Grammy nominations and all of that. But I decided to chill for a minute, take care of myself, take care of my family, put my mind back in the right space, and I really just turned off the world for a while. I just did that, spent time with my family, all of that, but while I was doing that, I was recording music too, you know? Because, you know, that’s my thing. I was recording music, and it feels like I’ve just been inside doing all this healing, all this self-growth, and all of that. I looked at a bunch of records that I made during this time that I’m taking care of myself, and I’m like, “Yeah, this is ‘Clarity of Mind.’ This is really clarity of mind, and with all of this resting and all of this chilling and just enjoying life, it just feels like, okay, it’s time. It’s time to really start afresh. 

 

 

What do you think about the creative scene today?

For a while, I’ve just been observing the scene, like our music and African art. I’ve been observing it for a while, and I’ve honestly not been happy. I have honestly not been happy. Not like we’re doing bad,  we’re doing really great. Something new has to happen, you know? There has to be, like the kids, they need to learn something else. They need to see something else, and that’s the whole essence of ‘Clarity of Mind.’ I’ve always wanted to start afresh. So I was like, okay, this is the time to start afresh. 

Why did you tattoo your head?

I’ve always wanted to tattoo my head, like all of my head. So it was like, I’m gonna make this an event. I’m gonna make it cool for my fans. I want to enjoy this moment with everybody. So, from the start of when I shaved off my hair, I’m gonna post it, and I’m gonna take my fans through this journey and make this whole thing an event. Go to the warehouses, invite them to see me tattoo my head, get my piercings, see me real-time, my hair grow while we’re listening to the album, partying from city to city, very private and intimate. Because it’s been a while, I feel like I miss them so much. I miss my fans so much.  With ‘Clarity of Mind,’ it’s like, “Yo, let’s go outside. Let’s have fun. Let’s enjoy this time.” So it’s gonna be one of the greatest gifts of anybody’s life. ‘Clarity of Mind’ is like the thing that I’ve always worked so hard for. Like all the self-growth, all these books, it’s for me to reach that height. So, we’re here. Let’s do it with everybody. I gotta give this to everybody. Everybody has to feel it. Fans have to grow with me. 

What do you want the fans’ reaction to the project to be?

I want the world to listen to this and just feel it for themselves, you know? I don’t want to explain how it happened. At the end of the day, it just boils down to this being my life. My life is going on. It’s really just going on right in front of me.  While some fans and some haters and some people who don’t understand what’s going on think that it’s all fun, it’s really real life. It’s my life happening right in front of me. From ‘Boy Alone,’ which was my last album, that’s really me. That’s me going through it. [I] had to use loneliness for escape, and that was ‘Boy Alone.’ I’m in a place right now where it’s like, “Okay, solitude, a lot of solitude”. And now the solitude brings you clarity. That’s a fact. I’m in a place where it’s like I feel a bit more at peace. I kind of understand things a bit more. I’m grown, a bit more grown-up, and I’m in a place of clarity. This is the season. It’s just my life really happening in front of everybody with sound. So, I don’t want to explain it. I feel like you just soak inside of it, enjoy the music as much as I enjoyed making it for you.

Listen to ‘Clarity Of Mind‘ here.

 

The Lagos Fanti Carnival Is Back For 2026 Edition

Posted on by Melony Akpoghene

The Lagos Fanti Carnival will return to Tafawa Balewa Square on April 6, 2026, bringing one of the city’s oldest cultural expressions back into focus during the Easter period.

Rooted in the history of Afro-Brazilian returnees known as the Aguda, the carnival traces back to the nineteenth century, when formerly enslaved Africans settled in Lagos after journeys through Brazil. They arrived with distinct customs that gradually shaped life on Lagos Island, from architecture to food, music, and spiritual practice. Over time, these influences formed the identity now celebrated through the Fanti Carnival.

 

Today, the event stands as a living record of that exchange. Under the theme “A Homecoming of Heritage,” this year’s carnival builds on the 2025 comeback to be even bigger, with wider programming and increased participation. Community groups from Lafiaji, Isale-Eko, Olowogbowo, Campos, and Okepopo are expected to participate, each presenting distinctive styles shaped by neighbourhood histories, with their presence reflecting how the festival continues to be community-led despite its growing scale.

It will also extend beyond the procession, as plans include a curated exhibition presenting archival material and artefacts tied to Afro-Brazilian life in Lagos, as well as an economic summit exploring contemporary creative and commercial links between both regions. The day will close with a concert featuring live music rooted in samba-influenced Nigerian sounds.

 

Produced by Nuru Lab, the carnival forms part of Lagos’ broader push to position itself as a centre for cultural tourism, grounded in stories that connect continents through lived experience.

uNder: Best New Artists (March, 2026)

Posted on by The Native

Believe it or not, we are already one quarter through 2026 and so much has happened and keeps happening around us. Through it all, the music has never really paused and we owe much of that to the tireless efforts of rising artists who are committed to working their way through a range of feelings in their music. In a year when time has genuinely felt like an abstraction, the work of form-bending musicians and artists has tethered us to reality for better or worse and we’re all the better for it. 

True to our mission to continue to support rising artists from across Africa and the Black diaspora, our uNder column is back for another installments and the musicians we are celebrating this month have an unmistakable sense of humaness to them. Whether it’s the forward-leaning propulsion of Zen Univrse, the cathartic candour of S1orDie, the soulful inquests into pain that Jack APK proposes, or the romantic programming of Kofee Bean, these musicians have deeply-felt considerations that translates to their music, and we’re all better that they exist in the same timeline with us. Tap into their work and discover some new gems for your playlists; and thanks for rocking with us for another month. 

 

S1orDie

 

For Fans of: Lancey Foux, Cochise, and Fimiguerrero.

One of the more exciting shifts in Nigeria’s underground right now is how young artists are building their own systems. At the centre of that movement is CYK—short for Cyber Youth Kaizen—a loose collective that has become a meeting point for a new class of internet-raised creatives. The name doubles as a guiding idea, reflecting a generation of artists who learned from online spaces and turned that exposure into a working method. Their music moves freely, pulling from different scenes without settling in one place, and that openness defines much of what they do.

S1orDie is one of the clearest voices to come out of that circle, an artist whose steady run of releases has started to sketch out a clear identity. The Nigerian artist works across rap and melody, drawing from Trap, R&B and Alté. His songs often shift in tone, moving between sharp verses and more melodic stretches, giving his work an adaptable structure.

Across the last few years, S1orDie has built a dense catalogue of releases, moving quickly from early projects like ‘S3X’ (2023), which first drew attention to his name, to ‘PINK + WHITE’ (2024) and, more recently, ‘SS25’ (2025). Each project tracks a subtle shift in his sound without losing the in-the-moment feel that defines his music. On highlights like “CIGARETTE SILHOUETTE” and “CASH IN CASH OUT” from ‘SS25,’ the production moves into murkier territory with enough space for his often low-register, slurry flows.

While his other projects map out his sonic growth, the ‘NEVER TRUST A VOGUE GYAL EP’ series provides a tighter look at his thematic fixations, acting as a more focused outlet for his fascination with modern relationships, lifestyle and ambition. Lately, he has been raiding the Y2K vault, and he is so chameleonic that his recent release last month, “PHASE SHIFT,” saw him shift into the foundational Street-Pop aesthetics birthed in Ajegunle, one of the low-income districts in Lagos. His collaborative reach has also expanded through work with Monochrome on the two-part project ‘+We 2 Fly.’ – M.A.

As he continues to evolve, S1orDie represents the future of Nigerian urban music.

 

Jack Apk

 

For Fans of: Tems, Aylø, and Frank Ocean.

If you listen closely enough to Jack APK’s music, you can hear the singer cauterising his emotional wounds and constructing an homage to the resultant scars through his melodies. A casual dive into his catalogue reveals that pain is never too far away from Jack and he doesn’t neccesarily run away from it; instead he tries to use his music to understand the nature of hurt and solitude as a means to healing. The South African made his debut on 2019’s “123” with 44KA$H and Vergo Pharmacist, teaming up with his co-stars on a Trap-adjacent song about drugs and women. He followed it up with “Old Jack” in 2020, purposefully introducing his mid-tempo fusion of Soul and Trap that was fully unfurled on 2021’s ‘ISOLATION,’ a four-track dispatch on romantic desire and solitude. 

Since then, the singer has experimennted widely and frequently, pushing the boundaries of his work in different directions without sacrificing thematic discipline and lyrical consistence. Singles like the dance-influenced “Techno,” the Rage Rap-leaning “Can’t sleep,” and “Jetski!” preceded ‘ISOLATION II,’ a full-on immersion into Soul that provided highlights like “Paper towns” and “Interlude.” 2024 was noticeably lean for the rising singer who favoured a singles-lead approach, releaisng emotionally-wrenching songs like “You got someone,” “All I want,” and “Alone” that explored his sorrow at a romance that doesn’t quite go the way he envisioned while fleshing out the realties of navigating life alone. 

Growing bolder with his vulnerability, 2025 was a seminal year for Jack APK as he tunnelled into his weighty topics like obsession, loss, and rejection across two full-length projects, one extended play and a cache of singles. February’s ‘Blue hour’ was a six-track inquiry into the quirks of humanity and the price of self-confidence played out over quirky and off-kilter guitar-led instrumentals that allowed his voice to soar. In November 2025, he released the titanic ‘Scars & Wounds,’ further pondering heartache and growing pains across 16 tracks with highlights like “Who cares, just cry,” “Dog in me,” and “On my own.” Just one month later, he returned with ‘Come On!,’ a Trap-influenced extravaganza that found him leaning into self-pride and healing. 

2026 has started in similar fashion for the singer who released a two-pack, “2 love letters,” in February, detailing his capacity for love and tenderness. Impressively, seven years into a still-unfolding career, Jack APK has not lost any of the sensitivity that makes him an enjoyable listening, he’s still earnest, honest, and engaging, continuing to capture the raw moments of jeopardy and numbing euphoria that mark him out as a must-listen.  – W.O.

 

Zen Univrse

 

For Fans of: Olamide, Minz, and Asake.

In a recent interview discussing his music and influences, Zen Univrse was asked to name one African rap album that he could listen to forever, and his pick was Olamide’s seminal sophomore album ‘Baddest Guy Ever Liveth.’ Even though he didn’t go into detail as to the reason for his choice, the reasons for his affinity are immediately apparent to anyone familiar with both artists’ work. Released in 2013, ‘Baddest Guy Ever Liveth’ represents a crucial blueprint for a similar sort of hybridisation of Hip-Hop and Afropop sounds that Zen Univrse’s current genre-bending approach aims for. 

Interestingly, the Olamide influences in the rapper and singer’s work were not always as apparent as they are right now. His introductory EP ‘Bad Decisions’ from 2020 and the accompanying deluxe version were both defined by a breezy sound, often leaning into contemporary R&B textures and a more laid-back vocal delivery. A couple of subsequent tracks like “Streets Ain’t Safe,” inspired by the #EndSars protests, “Omo Ologo,” and particularly “Dragon,” the standout track from a 2023 two-pack, chart his evolution as he began to infuse a raw, vernacular-heavy energy into his music, echoing the influential style of Olamide and bridging the gap between his earlier, smoother sound and his current, more culturally-grounded Street-Pop delivery. 

A ton of his releases since “Dragon,” like 2024’s ‘Mr Univrse,’ and ‘Alternative Univrse,’ have seen him fully commit to this style, spitting melodious, witty lines over throbbing log drums or a dark, minimalist Trap beat, most of which are self-produced. “Ben 10,” the standout track from the latter EP, is one of his finest examples of this mature style, combining cutting lyricism with an irresistible groove. His latest album, ‘crazy motion,’ which arrived earlier in the year, continues to explore the depths of his lyrical prowess and dynamic production capabilities. He’s openly described the project as one that he hopes will bring him significant attention, and with his display on highlights like “bonita” and “run am,” the foundation for that mainstream recognition is firmly in place. – B.A.

 

Kofee Bean

 

For Fans of: Asa, Shekhinah, and Erykah Badu.

Kofee Bean is honest about using music as a map towards a long-held quest of finding a universal truth that was set in motion by soaking up influences from idols like Jill Scorr, Erykah Badu, and Sade. As a child growing up in Takoradi, Ghana, the singer was caughtb between diverse interpretations of music, moving fluidly between the colourful dynamism of Traditional Folk music played at weddings and funerals, the all-engrossing spirituality of Gospel Music, as well as the Jazz and R&B that her parents would frequently play. Inspired by what she heard around her, the singer (born Patience Naa Oyo Titus-Glover) developed a unique style, defined by the soulful essence of R&B and the sweeping melancholy of gospel music. 

She first got her start performing at venues across Accra, shaping her voice by throwing herself into the craft and sharpening her abilities. Convinced that she was ready to give music a go, Kofee Bean released her debut single, “Breathing,” in 2022. A warm, Jazz-inflected exploration of longing and desire, “Breathing” featured rapper, KiddBlack, who broadened the song’s interrogation of romantic dynamics. Almost one year after her debut, Kofee Bean returned with another song, “Garden Lily,” a more intimate offering that pondered the depths of desire with the singer asking a love interest to wait for her and choose her over other people. 

As she has continued to release music professionally, Kofee’s interpretation of romance and love has mirrored the contentious nature of modern dating. Her 2024 two-pack, “Silly Nigga,” is a fiesty two-punch excoriation of a romantic interest who doesn’t returm love with the same intensity or intention that Kofee does. The song features Kenyan rapper, Steph Unruly, expressing her fury at a lover who can’t quite act right, drawing the line at behaviour she finds too inconsistent for her. Later in 2024, Kofee Bean joined German singer, Peter Fox, on “Night Ride,” a dreamy Hip-Hop-R&B collab hinging on the allure of love. 

All of Kofee’s work in 2024 set the stage for 2025, her most busy year yet. She kicked off the year with “Taste,” a sensual, mid-tempo with rising Ugandan star, MAUIMØON, that opens with the striking question, “Do you believe in true love?” In June 2025, she returned with “Why,” a mournful guitar-led dirge about romantic heartbreak that featured fellow Ghanaian, Supa Gaeta. Just a month later, she was channeling optimism on “In2U,” an uptempo romantic manifesto that saw the singer offering her heart once more. Despite its brevity, the release was a light-hearted dispatch that set the stage for the arrival of “Cashmere,” another experimental release with the Ugandan-Rwandan producer, La Soülchyld. On “Cashmere,” Kofee Bean’s powerful grasp of emotional interiority and narrative building comes to the fore over Soülchyld’s alluring instrumental as she continues to craft worlds for her feelings to exist in unencumbered. – W.O.

Ife Ogunjobi Is Staking His Claim with ‘Tell Them, I’m Here’

Posted on by Melony Akpoghene

Between his 2023 debut, ‘Stay True,’ and now, Ife Ogunjobi has changed. He has grown more intent on revealing the full spectrum of his multifaceted self. Who he is now, by his own account, is someone thoroughly grounded in certainty. “There’s only one version of me,” he tells NATIVE Mag, “and that alone means I must be special in some way.”

Since that debut, Ogunjobi has moved through a period of rapid personal and creative expansion. He felt compelled to offer an update on his identity, guided by the belief that his music must faithfully reflect who he is at any given moment. Against that backdrop, his latest project, ‘Tell Them, I’m Here,’ captures his present state of mind: confident, assured, and openly optimistic about what lies ahead. The music is a conduit for the self-possession that defines him now, reaching outward towards new possibilities. 

Building on this evolution, the EP projects a perspective rooted in a psychological state of aplomb that extends beyond career ambition. Ife Ogunjobi is, of course, authoritatively demanding attention upon his arrival, but he is also proposing a framework for personal autonomy. “It’s the confidence and self-belief I have in myself that I want other people to have as well,” he explains. “Even though the EP is called ‘Tell Them, I’m Here,’ I want everyone to be able to say that for themselves, in their own way. No one else can be you. You’re your own person, so step into that.” The title is an imperative sentence, striking in its decisiveness, and it is deeply satisfying that the music substantiates the claim. 

A five-track release, ‘Tell Them, I’m Here‘ is a document of unrestrained melodic expression. It is buoyant and blissed-out, filled with sticky-sweet melodies that glide across subgenres, folding disparate influences from Afropop to Hip-Hop, Afro R&B, and Jazz into a cohesive whole while committing fully to genre-bending freedom.

The EP opens with the spunky, Highlife-inflected swinger “East Street Market,” a track that demonstrates the zest of the Walworth Road market. “I started with ‘East Street Market’ because a lot of projects like to ease you in with an intro before getting into it,” Ogunjobi says. “I wanted to do the opposite. I wanted to hit people straight away with what this is. As soon as you press play, you hear the drums come in. I wanted it to feel like a Nigerian hall party or like actually being in a busy market.”

 

It transitions seamlessly into “Cali,” where featured vocalist Samm Henshaw floats gently over a supple instrumental that gleams. “Zimbabwe,” which follows, is the EP’s most immediately adhesive moment. Rollicking and circular, it is driven by a trumpet refrain that settles into the listener’s body and refuses to leave. Ogunjobi has said that if he had to explain himself through a single song, this might be it. “Going into ‘Zimbabwe,’ I wanted to start heavy, then ease people into the vibe. If I had to explain who I am in one song, it might be this song. It’s infectious. I can listen to it all day.”

Indeed, while the prevailing mood is joyful and blithe, the EP is not emotionally monolithic, and Ogunjobi is careful not to stay in the sun for too long. He pivots to “Don’t Leave,” perhaps the most vulnerable moment on the record. On the track, the trumpet stops being a herald and starts being a confidant, moving at an unhurried, unharried pace. “It’s funny. People have said to me that once they’ve heard that song, it’s like they felt I was speaking even though I’m only playing the trumpet,” Ogunjobi shares. 

None of this disrupts the EP’s coherence or its overall vivacity. There is a unifying sensibility that makes each track feel like a room in the same house, with Ogunjobi’s trumpet serving as a steady guide from one space to the next.

 

For an instrumentalist, this degree of emotional articulation is entirely intentional. Ogunjobi is a composer first, one who happens to play the trumpet, and uses the instrument to telegraph a complex range of feelings. Without lyrics to lean on, the burden of storytelling rests fully on melody and structure. He rejects the notion that instrumental music is subordinate to vocals. To him, the human voice can be too specific or limiting. A trumpet line, by contrast, can carry ten different meanings for ten listeners, allowing for a universality that words often constrain.

“When I start a song, it already has an emotional direction,” he says. “Then I ask myself, as an instrumentalist, what I actually want to say. I’m very intentional about that. Do I want people to feel uplifted? Reflective? Intimate? Do I want them to escape and forget their troubles? Because I don’t have lyrics, I have to be even more intentional. Everything has to come through the music itself.”

As a core member of the Mercury Prize–winning Ezra Collective, Ife Ogunjobi’s sound has travelled across global stages, forming part of the melodic backbone of a movement that has reshaped the aesthetics of 21st-century Jazz. Raised in South East London by Nigerian parents, his home was saturated with Fuji, Highlife, Afrobeat, and Jazz, where he first encountered foundational figures like Miles Davis, Fela Kuti, King Sunny Adé, and Ebenezer Obey.

While his training at the Royal Academy of Music furnished him with a formidable technical foundation, his musical instincts were forged in London’s Saturday music schools and youth centres. He recalls seeing Hugh Masekela perform at the Royal Festival Hall when he was just ten years old. That performance reoriented his sense of what was possible.

Contemporary African Jazz currently sits at the centre of global experimentation. On the continent and across its diaspora, the music is shaping the avant-garde. In South Africa, Nduduzo Makhathini frames Jazz as ritual, drawing on Zulu cosmology to guide modern improvisation. Groups like Kokoroko and SuperJazzClub channel West African lineage into groove-forward, dancefloor-ready forms. Across cities like Lagos, Paris, and London, artists like Lia Butler, Etuk Ubong, Ami Taf Ra, and Hervé Samb are building a borderless instrumental movement grounded in cultural memory and forward momentum. Ogunjobi agrees that the scene today is at a high point. “I think that Jazz and just generally the instrumental scene right now is one of its strongest,” he says. “I look at artists like Venna, who’s doing so well, and it’s very inspiring. There’s also Kokoroko; even though their music has lyrics, it is very instrumentally driven. And then artists like Masego, who sings but also plays the saxophone. There are so many pockets of people doing different things, all using instruments to tell their story as part of their craft.”

Ogunjobi’s work also intersects with Afropop’s global expansion, though it enters through a different door. He uses the trumpet to navigate the same grooves that have made West African artists global icons, adding a layer of virtuosic musicianship that feels fresh and historically literate. He remains unmoved by the industry’s bias towards vocalists. “I think the industry lost its way for a bit, treating instrumental music as a service for vocals. It doesn’t have to be that. I’ve always felt like music can speak a thousand words, even when there are no actual words.”

Looking forward, Ogunjobi is already scanning the horizon. “Even though the EP only came out, I’m already excited for what’s next and the new avenues that might open up from releasing it,” he shares. The future is an open field, and the creative restlessness that birthed ‘Tell Them, I’m Here’ is already nudging him towards new terrain, including a deeper dive into Dance music. “I want to make music you can dance to that still possesses depth,” he muses. “I want people to be in the club, dancing their problems away, while realising there’s a whole other level of nuance happening.” He isn’t sweating the journey, though. Whatever direction he takes, he remains untroubled by uncertainty. “Good music lasts,” he concludes. “It always finds its way to the surface.”

Listen to ‘Tell Them, I’m Here’ here. 

scottyolorin’s  debut mixtape, ‘OLORIN PACK,’ is here

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

scottyolorin has released his official debut mixtape, ‘OLORIN PACK.’ The project arrived with little fanfare, having been announced only a few hours before its midnight release. Despite the swift and low-key rollout, it’s a timely release that culminates a period of significant buzz and momentum for the rising singer. The late announcement was met with instant excitement from fans, signalling the hype and engagement he managed to garner over the last few months. 

This time last year, scottyolorin had only two official credits to his name, slowly biding his time as he transitioned from a graphic designer to a musician. The release of “TRABAYE” and “LIKE ASHERKINE” in the middle of the year gave him some much-needed momentum, but it was his late-year collab with Egertton, “MOLADE”, and a standout verse on Straffitti’s “TE WO” that truly announced him as a star in the making. 

 

Since then, he’s been incredibly active, performing at various live shows and releasing new singles like “DEELA” and the R33NZO-assisted “FL STUDIO.” Both tracks make it onto this new mixtape, along with 10 other tracks that put on display the young singer’s artistic vision and unique take on a range of styles. 

 

‘OLORIN PACK’ includes guest appearances from ARTSALGHUL, ytboutthataction, R33NZO and a couple others. The production, which features pounding 808s, electronic guitar riffs, and heavy synths, is handled by a host of producers like Semzi, JoeyXcv, Elemen3, and a few others whose collaborative efforts result in a cohesive and varied sonic experience. 

With the singer’s first headline show only a few days away, this new mixtape serves as the perfect precursor for his dedicated fans looking to attend the show and for new listeners eager to delve into the sound of one of the scene’s most promising new voices.

Listen to ‘OLORIN PACK’ here. 

Mowalola, Soldier Boyfriend, And Obongjayar Discuss The Significance Of Nigerian Modernism 

Posted on by The Native

In November 2025, Tate Modern opened its doors to the Nigerian Modernism exhibition, an important survey of the people and the work that changed the face of Nigerian art from the 1940s until the 1990s. The exhibition traces how over 50 artists, from Ben Enwonwu and Ladi Kwali to Nike Okundaye-Davies, forged a bold new visual language that documented the country’s independence from the status quo of colonial and military rule.

NATIVE and Tate invited art historian Alayo Akinkugbe to host a conversation with three Nigerian artists: Soldier Boyfriend, Mowalola and Obongjayar, key figures exporting their Nigerian talent across music, art and fashion to the rest of the world. Throughout the conversation, Soldier Boyfriend, Mowalola and Obongjayar explored how their respective pasts influence their work today.

Curated by Osei Bonsu, the ongoing exhibition is open to the public at Tate Modern until May 10th, 2026. Nigerian Modernism takes us on a visual journey through the state of the country in real time, from the sacred groves of Osun in Oshogbo to the pre-independence rebellion of the Zaria Art Society and the Nsukka Art School, which created the intellectual backbone for what we know as Modernism today.

The conversation started with an assessment of what modernism means to each artist, and made its way through the roots of their creations, how various established systems help or hinder one’s creative expressions, and how the creative exchange between Nigeria and the UK is inseparable from the painful history that established a relationship between the two countries.

“It’s easier to go into the past first before you take into the future.” – Soldier Boyfriend

Alayo kicked off the conversation with a simple question: What does modernism even mean now? For Soldier Boyfriend, Mowalola and Obongjayar, Modernism is not an art-historical category that’s easily identifiable by what you see. For them, it’s more about what one breathes, lives and inherits. Soldierboyfriend believes that today’s art world is in a neo-modern condition, where artists get to see what has been and use that as the starting point, whether consciously or not, within their art. Following careful consideration of how the country’s civil war in 1967 shaped the world and the people around him, from his parents’ beliefs to the school rules he had to follow, he sums it up by saying, “It’s easier to go into the past first before you take into the future.” These past experiences, whether his own or the collective Nigerian youth population’s, always inform the art he creates.

Mowalola’s proximity to the fashion industry growing up gave her a very clear sense of what being modern looked like in Lagos, Nigeria. “When I actually grew up in Nigeria, and then we were just seeing more like made in Nigeria promotional things, when before it was very much like a lot of white people on the billboards and adverts,” she said. “And I felt like there was just a new push of being proudly Nigerian,” identifying how Nigerians shifted away from colonial societal standards.

Obongjayar, more sceptical about the word itself, confesses that his resistance is sharpened by the absence of history being properly documented in Nigeria. “I feel like those things need to be cataloged a lot better,” he explained. “I don’t think there are a lot of people that take the time to actually find those things and put them in a place where you can actually discover them easily.” 

The conversation turns quickly to what was taught, what was not taught, and how the pieces they could see throughout the exhibition enlightened their contextual knowledge of their own country. In the Tate’s exhibition, works like “Woman In Grief”, a post-cubist painting by Uzo Egonu, created soon after the Biafran War, depict a distressed, bent figure whose pose and fractured space have been interpreted as a visual embodiment of the anguish and trauma of the 1967–70 conflict.

Nigerian Modernism traces art from colonial rule to independence and beyond, and the Biafran War marks a dramatic turning point in that national and artistic story. While the country in the 1960s responded to independence with optimism, the Civil War forced a reckoning with violence and division very soon after.

“Growing up in Nigeria, we didn’t really learn any of our history for some reason.” – Mowalola says.

Born across the 1990s and 2000s, Mowalola, Soldier Boyfriend and Obongjayar only know life in its aftermath. The effects of the country’s conflict reach them through family stories, history textbooks, inherited tensions and freedoms. Without their own direct experience of it, this generational distance complicates their relationship to history, meaning they must rely on what they are told, or not told. The absence of institutionalised history in Nigeria for this generation means that it becomes both omnipresent and opaque in their lives.

In the context of their conversation, Soldier Boyfriend’s relationship to the war is especially resonant. Growing up in an Eastern family directly affected by Biafra, he expresses a closer proximity to its residue. His chosen name becomes an artistic gesture shaped by that inheritance. “I took the moniker up, not to embrace war, but to embrace the rebelliousness of it, because I feel like the world we live in is kind of built on the foundation of war and violence.” This choice does not romanticise war, but instead reveals his recognition of it as a structural condition that defines global systems of power. His adoption of “Soldier” reframes militaristic symbolism as a critique of how contemporary establishments, often through military force, were forged through violence and still operate within those frameworks.

Across the conversation, what becomes clear is that each artist’s creative instinct did not emerge in isolation. It formed in response to structures that existed in their realities: school systems shaped by colonial residue, homes shaped by religious fear, and socio-political authorities structured around hierarchy and control. As adults now holding authority over themselves, the work they produce is not simply an aesthetic choice; it is also a reaction to what has been, and sometimes a defiance of the set norms.

School is examined as an arena where structure collides with instinct. For Soldier Boyfriend, secondary school carried the lingering weight of colonial aesthetics and discipline. He recalls attending St Gregory’s College, Obalende, “an all-boys Catholic school” where the uniform, to this day, mirrors English formality in tropical heat. “They used to make us wear sweaters and blazers and I was confused because it’s so hot,” he starts, “And I’m wearing this blazer.” His imposed school uniform becomes a metaphor for inherited systems that do not fit the lived realities of being in Nigeria, and that friction feeds directly into his later resistance to aesthetic prescription.

Mowalola’s schooling experience shaped her differently, but just as profoundly. For her, the educational tension was less about colonial uniformity and more about her instincts being dismissed in a formal school setting. Before moving to the UK, she was already serious about art in school in Lagos. More serious, in fact, than the art teacher who would label her as an “ITK” (I too know, a common Nigerian jab referring to someone who is seen as doing too much). That early indifference sharpened her drive to rebel and take autonomy over herself and her art. It made it clear that if she wanted her work to matter, she would have to insist on it mattering.

Later, while studying in the UK, she encountered a different kind of structural narrowing, within a framework that erased her and people who looked like her. “I felt like when I went to the UK to actually study art, it was very much in a whole white context.” Even the tools reinforced it. “I was getting like white people’s skin colour pencils.”

In Lagos, her ambition was not taken seriously enough. In London, it was taken seriously within a framework she was expected to abide by, even though it did not consider her roots. Both of these experiences shaped the rebelliousness we see in her designs today. Where some see controversy, she presents self-validation, reminding herself that she has never needed to wait for institutional permission. Where, for previous generations, freedom often had to be earned, for this generation, freedom is assumed.

When Obongjayar declared his ambition to be a musician to his family, they all laughed at him. “I walked into the living room, I was like, ‘Yo, I just had a dream. I know exactly what I’m gonna be when I grow up… I’m gonna be a musician,” he recalls. The response immediately placed him within a framework he had no interest in. In early-2000s Nigeria, music was not seen as a lucrative or stable career path, and was considered unserious, which would have informed his family’s response. Today, as the musician he once dreamed of being, he reflects on that story with vindication.

Mowalola’s home, by contrast, contained both repression and unexpected freedom. She describes Nigerian culture’s silence around sexuality, yet notes that within her household, the shame that was ascribed did not really exist. The clash between domestic freedom and public taboo sharpened her curiosity to push boundaries in fashion. “I was always very interested in the topic of sex in Nigeria because I felt like no one really spoke about it,” she says. Her later provocative designs respond to the policing of bodies she witnessed throughout her life, and the instinct to rebel against a reality that felt contradictory to her lived experience.

“We’re fighting for new air.” – Obongjayar

Socio-political authority forms the third layer. All three artists describe Nigeria as structured by hierarchy and power imbalance. Obongjayar articulates it starkly: “There’s a hierarchy… It’s the government, there’s the army of the police… civilians literally bottom of the food chain.” Soldier echoes this sense of constant struggle. From the Nigerian military’s visible presence during his adolescence (including being stopped for wearing camouflage) to his father’s strict religious rules, this reinforces the feeling of surveillance and control. Creative rebellion becomes a refusal of imposed authority.

When he says, “Everything,” in response to what young Nigerians are rebelling against, he is not speaking hyperbolically. It reflects layered pressures: familial expectation, educational conformity, and state violence.

As a generation, some Nigerian millennials and Gen Z experienced a countrywide and large-scale political reckoning in October 2020 during the #EndSARS protests. Mowalola remembers the tollgate protests as communal and hopeful. “Everyone was playing music, people were performing… it was really beautiful.” Before the subsequent violence shattered that hope for her and for many Nigerian youth who had taken on the responsibility to stand up against police brutality. For Obongjayar, the heartbreak lay not only in the shootings of innocent Nigerians but in the system that enabled them. “To see that our government… willing to kill its own people… is hard.”

Taken together, school, home and socio-political authority do not simply influence these artists. They generate the tensions their work addresses. Obongjayar describes their role succinctly: “We’re fighting for new air.”

For much of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the relationship between Britain and Nigeria was marked by extraction. The most infamous example remains the Benin Expedition of 1897, when thousands of bronzes and royal artefacts were looted from the Kingdom of Benin and dispersed across European museums. Sacred objects, ancestral heads, plaques and regalia were removed from their ritual and political contexts and reclassified as ethnographic curiosities. 

In recent years, those objects have begun to return, and institutions across Europe have initiated repatriation processes, acknowledging both the violence of acquisition and the need for restitution. Against that backdrop, the Tate’s Nigerian Modernism exhibition feels like a world with new air. Here, Nigerian art is not displayed as plunder, but presented with consent, collaboration and curatorial leadership by Nigerians. The works of the 1940s and 1960s, born from a need to synthesise and assert, sit in London decades later as proof that the synthesis succeeded. The post-modern breakthrough has brought about a generational confidence, where Nigerian artists no longer ask permission to belong to global conversations.

Soldier Boyfriend speaks about Western influence on his work in a way that already assumes hybridity. “It’s just me taking things I kind of learned from Europe or from the UK and just adding my own little twist.” For him, European techniques are materials for his art, not masters. And that is where the post-modern condition quietly hums beneath the conversation. Obongjayar’s journey maps this shift clearly. Growing up in Nigeria, Western culture arrived aspirationally, but migration showed him the depth of what existed back home. 

In a moment thick with irony, he recalls discovering Fela Kuti properly in Norwich: “My white friends were playing Fela Kuti, and I was like, ‘Hold on, this is where I’m from.’” This experience challenged the way society had taught him to view traditionally Nigerian things, and led to a breakthrough about owning his Nigerian attributes, as they are. 

Mowalola, entering a design world that assumed whiteness as baseline, has never felt the need to define her work by existing “African” aesthetics. “I’ve never really felt like I have to make this look very African… Because I’m Nigerian. So anything I make is Nigerian.” This sums up the state of the post-modern creative exchange between Nigeria and the UK, which has produced music, art and fashion that is globally legible and understood by all.

Best New Music: Egertton Is Channelling Ancestral Rage On “Obokhian”

Posted on by Boluwatife Adeyemi

Even though the origin of Rage Rap is widely contested, one clear thing is that it’s been the definitive Hip-Hop subgenre of the 2020s. The sound didn’t materialise in a vacuum. The autotune and synthetic, digital-driven production that Kanye West popularised in mainstream Rap post-‘Yeezus’ was a foundational influence on the progressive SoundCloud Rap movement of the 2010s, which became a crucial incubator for the artists and sounds that would lead directly to the emergence of Rage Rap.

Playboi Carti’s landmark 2020 album ‘Whole Lotta Red’ catapulted the subgenre to mainstream consciousness, creating a definitive blueprint that inspired countless artists worldwide to adopt and adapt its high-octane formula. This fluid style has been reimagined within Afropop in the last couple of years, with Rema’s critically acclaimed sophomore release, ‘HEIS,’ serving as a prime example. Another Benin singer, Egertton, has also been exploring this sound, experimenting with a more restrained approach by scaling back on some of the heavy synth loops while retaining its riotous energy.

His debut project, ‘KARNAGE,’ which includes moshpit-ready cuts like “RAGE” and “CRAZE,” demonstrated his ability to harness the subgenre’s intensity while injecting it with his unique melodic sensibilities and cultural context. His latest release, ‘EGER,’ a two-pack single, features “Obokhian,” his most thrilling and fully realised fusion of the Rage Rap template with his personal artistic vision to date. He had initially teased the song a couple of weeks ago, receiving mixed reactions from fans hailing it as a masterpiece to more cautious listeners, unsure what to make of its polarising energy. 

Singing primarily in his native Bini, the singer has dubbed the new track “incantation music,” rooting the song in his Benin heritage. The description is significant, as it repositions the chaos of Rage music within a lineage of ancestral and spiritual storytelling, showcasing Egertton’s freewheeling vision and unique ability to bridge disparate influences to create a fresh and captivating sound. 

He repeatedly screams the words “Obokhian” and “Tota,” which translates to “welcome” and “sit down” in his native language, over DJ Primeau’s skittering production, inviting listeners into his dynamic and energetic world. The song’s official music video, which was directed by Cruel Santino, features symbolic imagery like a dancing masquerade and recurrent images of bats that further add depth to the song’s overall message and atmosphere. 

Egertton is not alone when it comes to experimenting with this dynamic subgenre, positioning himself among a new wave of artists who are slowly reshaping the landscape of contemporary African music. His unique cultural grounding, however, sets him apart, helping him earn co-signs from fellow Benin stars like Shallipopi and Cruel Santino, which signal his status as a rising figure to watch in the evolution of Afropop and its splintering subgenres.

Similar to a couple of his peers’ inventive interpretations of the subgenre, the existence of “Obokhian” existence signals a future in which Rage music from these parts will be intrinsically localised and possess a unique cultural resonance. Music that will borrow in structure and energy but will transform in spirit and subject matter. 

Listen to “Obokhian” here. 

Interview: Champz Wants To Make A Statement 

Posted on by The Native

African music is going through a reset right now, and that evolution is being led by young stars tapping into inventive styles without losing touch with their African roots and identity. Rising star, Champz, exemplifies that approach, merging the word-bending grit of grime with the melodic undertone of Afropop. Last year, he introduced himself with his five-track EP, ‘Champion’s Arrival,’ hybridising UK rap influences with a distinctive Nigerian identity. 

Less than five months after ‘Champion’s Arrival,’ the 14-year-old is back with his new project, ‘Young Poet,’ expanding on his origin story with standout tracks like “Bad Guyz” and “Shut The Block Down.” Across the 10-minute runtime of the project, the youngster affirms his origins, lays down a gauntlet for challengers, and situates himself in the future of Afropop. By his own telling on “War Lord,” he was made to make music and ‘Young Poet’ is his statement of intent. 

His conversation with Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio has been edited below for length and clarity. 

 

How does it feel to inspire people?

It feels really good. Someone my age doing stuff like this and inspiring my peers, people older than me, people younger than me, people who want to make music, and people who don’t believe they can do it. I just want to be the one to tell you that you can do it anytime. Once you push for your goals, you can pick your goals at any time you want. You always want to keep on going.

What does this new EP, ‘Young Poet,’ mean to you?

This new EP is like I’m solidifying my place, you feel me? I’m dropping this EP to let everyone know that I’m really doing this. I’m not playing any games around anymore. I’m doing this for real, so I want to let everyone know that, “Yo, this is what I’m trying to do for real.” With this whole EP, it’s kind of like a statement piece for me. Not everyone can do what I do, and I want everyone to know that. But doesn’t mean I don’t want to inspire people; I don’t want to demotivate. I’m open to competition, but it doesn’t mean I don’t think I’m the best, you feel me? As I said, this is like my statement piece, so I want to show everyone that I can do anything I want to do, and I want to do it. So, I did a bit of Afrobeats, Afroswing, Amapiano, everything is in there. Rap, everything.

How did you make “Bad Guyz?”

“Bad Guyz” is Amapiano, and there’s Rap in it, there’s Dance. I want everyone to be able to dance when they hear the song, and, you know, I don’t want to stray too far away from Rap because, you feel me, I’m a rapper. I don’t want anyone to forget that I’m a rapper for real, so that’s why I still had to show everyone that I still got that on me. So, the whole Rap is in the build of the song, the Amapiano, everything is like a combination of African and Western elements all in one song. It’s like versatility to push Africa forward. That was the goal: to push Africa forward and to push Champz forward. 

What’s your favourite track on the project?

“Shut The Block Down” was one of the songs [I really liked], it’s like my personal favorite song because it tells my story and how I feel about certain things. I don’t really speak much; I use music to express myself. So, when I rap about these things, it’s like, it’s me for real.  I’m speaking to you and letting you know how I feel and how I want to feel. So, “Shut The Block Down” was kind of like fully Rap, with emotional additions and everything just to make a statement. 

 

What’s your message to your fans?

To all the supporters of Champz, everyone who’s going to listen to ‘Young Poet,’ I pray for you. I pray you can find meaning in my music. I pray you can dance to my music. If you want to go to the gym, I pray you can work to my music, you feel me? I just want everyone to be able to enjoy my music at any time, anyplace, any day.  I want to give a big shoutout to Olaolu Slawn for designing the cover as well. Big up Slawn and everyone who put this together. The producers and Paranormal, as well. Shoutout to Paranormal and everyone on the EP and everything. Shoutout to my mom, my manager, and everyone. Big shoutout to everyone who made ‘Young Poet’ happen for me. I love you all to everyone and to my fans as well. Don’t let anyone hold you back. Wherever you get to in life, don’t leave your roots behind. Always push with your roots, push Africa because, you know, we’re really changing up the game. 

Listen to ‘Young Poet’ here.

Best New Music: Kayode’s “Aimoye” Is A Collage Of Old And New Influences

Posted on by Wale Oloworekende

For the best part of the last 18 months, we’ve been living through a new age of creativity in the wider Afropop soundscape. In many respects, there are no rules for what a banger can–or should–sound like, as artists dexterously pay homage to what has come before them, while fastening their gaze on the future of music. The bulk of this innovative charge has, of course, come courtesy of the radically imaginative vision of rising artists like Zaylevlten, Indi, Egertton, Danpapa GTA, and Deela, who are making artistic leaps without diluting their identities as their audiences grow. 

Given the recalibration of our music, it’s no surprise that rising rapper, Kayode got a roaring response when he posted a clip of himself rapping over a sample of King Saheed Osupa’s “Reliable Pt.5” late in February 2026. The snippet showed him working his  fluid Trap flow around a vocal chop of the Fuji legend saying, “Aimoye awon eniyan tan ti lo nile aye,” roughly translating to “Countless people have left this world.” 

The messaging on “Aimoye” is in keeping with some of Kayode’s best work. In November 2021, he released a drill-adjacent hit, “Live Forever,” that garnered some mainstream attention, hinting at the rapper’s promise. He’s since continued to sharpen his skills, releasing a series of singles as well as projects like  2023’s ‘STILL FIGURING LIFE’ and 2024’s ‘KAY KAY,’ which displayed the surgical flows and assured delivery that make “Aimoye” an instant highlight. 

 

For all the instant adulation that “Aimoye” has received, it’s the culmination of a journey that began with February’s “OWO LO BA OMO JE,” a balmy Trap offering that saw Kayode experiment with Yoruba heavily across the length of the song while manifesting more success and breakthroughs for himself and his loved ones. In some ways, the mid-March arrival of “Aimoye” is a natural progression of “OWO LO BA OMO JE,” signifying the convergence of a modern music style with a storied oral genre that is as dense as it is ever-evolving. 

Originally released in 2020, King Saheed Osupa’s “Reliable Pt.5,” taken from ‘Reliable,’ features the Ibadan native’s characteristic wit and mastery of the Yoruba language while admonishing his listeners to try and lead positive lives with a reminder that death is a human constant. 

 

Less concerned with the moral framings of right and wrong, Kayode’s “Aimoye” filters its reference material for that looming specter of mortality as a motivation to live life to the fullest and do one’s best. Death is a sobering reality, but in Kayode’s hands, that reminder is a rousing invocation to be fly and engage with life without regrets while the sample of King Saheed Osupa’s voice provides thematic rigour. 

For all his playful edge, Kayode is still deeply reverential of what has come before him, sharing his admiration for Yoruba oral genres and, specifically, King Saheed Osupa on social media. Even on “Aimoye,” he makes time to shout out the legend, saying, “Saidon P lo gbemi debe, enemies o le gbemi wale.” More interestingly, the instrumental for “Aimoye” rises to the occasion, groovily blending ominous percussion, gnarly 808s, and faint shakers for a worthy accompaniment that allows Kayode’s voice to soar without encumbrance. 

Lyrically, “Aimoye” is grounded but confident, positioning Kayode as a young baller who is living his life while mindful of jealous eyes seeking his downfall. Regardless, he’s assured thar no harm will come to him, confidently rapping, “Ko sin te ma she, on god,” in the song’s first verse. That line is delivered with an uber-confidence and air of invicibility that’s sure to steer Kayode’s career as he continues to position himself to be a Nigerian mainstream fixture. 

Too often, we get poor attempts at tracks paying homage to storied African genres where the musician is just not rooted in the terrain they attempt to plant their flag. On “Aimoye,” Kayode bucks that trend, displaying an intuitive appreciation of Fuji’s dynamism and King Saheed Osupa’s work and how best it can supplements his Trap work, perfecting a delicate blend of tradition and modern sonics that’s euphoric and contemplative in equal parts. 

With “Aimoye” already popping off, it will be fascinating to see what Kayode goes next. Another X post hinted at another single built on a sample of Musiliu Haruna Ishola’s Apala classic “Ise Oluwa Ko Seni Toye.” Still, for now, “Aimoye” is a triumph of old and new influences that place Kayode at an interesting crossroad in his burgeoning career.

Listen to “Aimoye” here.