Zimbabwean British singer and songwriter Sipho captured the heart and ears of audiences with his powerful and captivating voice since his first EP in 2016, and has followed this up across the years with a string of steady releases including the 2021 self-produced EP titled ‘AND GOD SAID’.
With awe-inspiring singles such as “Bodies”, “We Ain’t”, and two-part single “Moonlight Pt1/2”, Sipho has showcased a unique mixture of vulnerability and honesty on his views of a range of coming-of-age topics including organised religion, faith and his identity as a Black man. Through his inquiry into his own complex wiring, listeners are able to see and hear their experiences represented and in turn, the singer has carved out a lane for himself.
Besides his vocal ability and unapologetic style, a key component of Sipho’s music, that sets him apart is the thought-provoking subject matter he uses as inspiration for his music releases and projects. In ‘She Might Bleed’, Sipho explores the issue of hyper masculinity in his generation and the ways in which it directly affects the women in his life. These thoughts began after he was robbed and nearly lost his life, a terrifying experience for anyone, especially for a young adult like Sipho.
Following this, Sipho began to open his mind and see the bigger picture. Instead of harbouring anger towards his attackers, Sipho instead confronts these feelings he’s facing head on. He questions what life circumstances could drive someone to pick up a knife or a gun and hurt another human being. Speaking about this, Sipho shares that “we see bits of it in ourselves as young men, less potent but still present.”
“At first, it was mainly about hyper masculinity, the violence and greed, the self-centred nature of it all, but it kinda comes down to how it impacts the women in our life. Whether father, son, brother, it all tends to affect the women in our life. I feel like that is one of the relished and acknowledged ways we could be as young men.”
‘She Might Bleed’ took Sipho eight months to record, write and produce, just in time for this defining moment. Sipho is always known to write his music and is very hands-on with his work. This trait isn’t any different with ‘She Might Bleed,’ as he and Joseph Rogers worked together in completing the EP. “It’s good to have that extra ear to say yes and no and give new ideas and different ways to look at things”, says Sipho, as he doesn’t shy away from creative input from others.
Sipho strategically picked songs he felt invoked the exact feeling and message he aimed to share with his listeners from a long list of songs. This is because he is firm believer that the best creatives are also the best curators and can help portray the message that he intends to. Sipho’s love for music began with his curiosity for writing and putting out music from age 11. At that young age, he was inspired by the authenticity in the music from Frank Ocean, Tyler the Creator, Solange, James Blake, Sampha. By the age of 15, he began working on his music, putting it on SoundCloud and garnering an audience. At the age of 18, during his A-Levels, he made the decision to pursue music fulltime and hasn’t looked back ever since.
Now, off the excellent reception from his last EP and single releases, Birmingham-based singer Sipho is giving us exclusive access to the world around his sophomore EP, ‘She Might Bleed’. Following its release last Friday, we caught up with the singer to talk about his inspiration, background, his other interests and the future of his music career.
The conversation which follows below has been lightly edited for clarity.
NATIVE: Hi Sipho, how are you doing? It’s so good to have you on call today. Congratulations on the EP ‘She Might Bleed’. How does this moment feel to you?
SIPHO: It’s nice to be putting out music. It’s a blessing. The time to get the chance to speak about things on record for a living and I guess take away all the different experiences that come with it. I’m super grateful
NATIVE: How would you describe your songwriting and creation process?
SIPHO: It comes from anywhere. It could be a movie , a conversation and taking all that information on Board. If I like it and it’s something I wanna work with
NATIVE: When you make music, who do you make it for? Are you just creating what you want or do you have an audience in mind?
SIPHO: I picture a lot of people. It’s mainly for whoever wants to listen but naturally you just absorb the things you see. I feel like the people I’m around and things I see are all reflected in my music. Being part of Gen-Z we are really weird and bizarre in the way we do things and being around these people it’s all gonna leak into the music.
NATIVE: Your chose to centre your EP around hyper-masculinity in society. What fed into that decision?
SIPHO: I feel it’s something that needs to be considered and talked about more cause it’s not. It’s not always my job to know why because I see myself as a vessel and I’m blessed with creativity but I get that kind of information from a higher place. I think it’s something that just has to be looked into more so we can affect some kind of change.
NATIVE: You’ve released “Occasion” & “Beady Eyes”, what do each of these track have to say about the overall message of the project?
SIPHO: In the EP I talk about “Occasion” first and with the way I wrote the EP, it was like a narrative. “Occasion” establishes the position of whoever it is that we are writing about and their struggle when it comes to love and their love interest. What I noticed in our generation is that we have an interesting struggle with love and with how on and off we can be with people we care about. It made me realise that although it’s in my generation we have to go further to everyone else really.
Although with how back and forth we are, there is still passion. Just the difficulty with accepting who you are and trying to figure out who you are. “Beady Eyes” is more of the uncomfortable side of things when it comes to figuring out things for yourself as an individual and managing other people’s expectations and what that can do in your head. But the music can be applied anyhow you want cause once this song goes out it’s not mine anymore
NATIVE: When putting together ‘She Might Bleed’ did you face any challenges or setbacks?
SIPHO: The whole EP has challenged me with the subject matter because I got to dive into something new and stretch myself even further, especially in the project’s final track. That’s where I found it the most challenging. It’s not the best I can do, but it’s pushed me in a good direction in terms of providing information and lyrics in a different way.
NATIVE: Which artists do you see yourself working with and would merge seamlessly with your sound?
SIPHO: I have people that will be really cool but I don’t know if it will connect. I’d love to work with Bougie, the producer, Desire who is representing a whole new thing. I wanna get in a room with The Alchemist. Instead of just similarity in sounds I think philosophy attracts me more, what feels good, the way we make music and the creative process attracts me more. Let’s make a predictable and really good song or I could try something new and stretch my mind even further.
NATIVE: Have you faced any challenges being a young black man in the music industry
SIPHO: I may have but I don’t look at it that way. I’m blessed to be who I am in this industry because people are curious and thirsty for new perspectives. When I look at me, where I’ve been and where I’ve come from it will be an interesting aspect for people. The main challenge will be people mislabelling the genre of my music based on how I look. Like with beady eyes, that has been categorised as an R&B song but it’s more of a rock song and little R&B but would have been dodgers if someone else sang it. It’s more of me observing rather than a challenge for me. As long as I’m in the conversation people will understand and try to discern way better.
NATIVE: How do you see your music and musical career evolving in the next couple of years?
SIPHO: I see myself building a community. I want the experience of my music to go beyond just me and what it is to be something shared among themselves. In the next couple years I wanna be blessed to be able to do that asides from performing in shows and making more music. Just being able to engage with people that are for me and about me and that’s the least I can ask for. Just being able to make an impact on people. I have nothing to complain about.
From working her way out of London’s Myatt’s Field, Tanika is now setting her sights on the bright lights...
Across a career that's in its second decade, Tanika has proven to be a force in her own right, holding her...
Across a career that’s in its second decade, Tanika has proven to be a force in her own right, holding her own on collaborations with Black British stars like Stormzy and Wretch 32, as well as popular record producer Naughty Boy–working with the Grammy-nominated beatmaker on his acclaimed ‘Hotel Cabana’ album.
Following a stint as an actor, she returned to the studio in 2021, releasing a new extended play, ‘333,’ in 2023. The project carried all the hallmarks of Tanika at her tantalising best: lilting cadences, well-paced narratives, a songwriting that reaches for the heart of the matter.
On her latest song, “Fast Fwd,” she’s growing into her own and stepping into a new era. In many ways, “Fast Fwd,” a hypnotic, sultry anthem, is landing just in time for summer revelry. Produced by her longtime collaborator, Naughty Boy, her silky vocals land effortlessly on the mid-tempo instrumental and pulsates with her desire for her love interest.
Joined on the song by her fiancé, Kida Kudz, they make an interesting duo and replicate the synergy they had on “Nobody,” off Kudz’s 2021 ‘Top Memba.’ Distinctively marked by use of neon lights, the video for the song captures the effervescence of romance that Tanika hums about throughout the song.
From working her way out of London’s Myatt’s Field to becoming a star with millions of streams, Tanika is now setting her sights on the bright lights of superstardom. Ahead of the official release of the single, we had a brief chat with Tanika about her career, the influences for “Fast Fwd,” and working with KIda Kudz on it.
Her answers, which follow below, have been lightly edited for clarity.
How would you describe where you are in your career right now?
I’m just enjoying the journey.
What does the release of “Fast Fwd” signify for you?
It signifies love.
Why is Kida Kudz a fit for the song? (
To be honest, we didn’t plan to do another song together. I have worked on two records with him before (“Nobody” and “Tasty Time” ) but we never thought to shoot a video for it.. “Fast Fwd” felt like a real testimony of our present moment in the relationship.
You’ve worked extensively with Naughty Boy and he’s helped with “Fast Fwd,” what’s your relationship like and why does it work?
Naughty Boy knows me very well. We’ve known one another for over 10 years, so he knows what fits me musically. We gel. I think him knowing me and being a fan of Kida’s music made it all work. Naughty Boy does his listening before he makes a beat for you. A lot of producers don’t really understand the importance of knowing the artist musically but he does.
What were you aiming for with the video?
To be honest, I’m aiming for nothing. I’m just enjoying the journey. It’s been a very long road and I know I still have a long way to go.
Dutch textile brand Vlisco recently unveiled its latest campaign ‘The Garden Of Sisterhood,’ as part of...
Dutch textile brand Vlisco recently unveiled its latest campaign ‘The Garden Of Sisterhood,’ as part of its women’s month celebration. The campaign, which looks to extend Vlisco’s rich legacy in African fashion and its ongoing celebration of creativity and cultural storytelling, takes inspiration from Congolese musical icon Fally Ipupa’s latest single, “Mayanga.” The song’s accompanyingmusic video was shot in the Ivory Coast, and seamlessly balances Ipupa’s signature soulful Rumba music with intricate floral motifs and soft, elegant colour palettes that celebrate the strength and individuality that blossoms through community.
In addition to Fally Ipupa, Vlisco also tapped up Ivorian fashion designer Loza Maléombho and Nigerian director Daniel Obasi to contribute to ‘The Garden Of Sisterhood’ campaign. Maléombho’s unique designs and Obasi’s striking storytelling helped contribute to actualising Vlisco’s distinct aesthetic and vision of merging heritage, creativity and fashion.
In a statement discussing the collaboration with Vlisco, the Congolese superstar described it as a beautiful experience. “They understood my vision of working with talented artists and honouring the beautiful women who wear Vlisco fabrics. By creating exclusive designs for me and the remarkable women in the cast, Vlisco really brought our artistic vision to life, harmoniously fusing music and fashion,” he said.
Similarly, Marlou van Engelen, the creative director of Vlisco, expressed that it was an honour working with Fally Ipupa. “His song ‘MAYANGA’ perfectly reflects our admiration for the women who shaped us, inspire us, and mean so much to us. For us, it’s not just about fashion; it’s about the stories told through our beautiful prints. And I believe the best stories are always told together,” she said in a statement.
Having worked across every area in Nigeria’s sprawling music scene, T.G Omori’s lore has taken on an...
There are two types of producers in the industry: those who approach the art with a keen sense of...
There are two types of producers in the industry: those who approach the art with a keen sense of business—they know how to sniff out opportunities, and are generally aware of industry-wide trends and currents—and those who set the tone, who set the standards. The latter group is the animating force of the industry, TG Omori says in a 2022 interview with Korty EO. During the interview, he’s slouched in his seat, framed against the backdrop of a grand piano, wearing a bandana, dark shades, and a silk Hawaiian shirt—the first few buttons undone to reveal a glistening silver chain. In the intervening moments—fractions of a second—before Korty responds to the loaded assertion he just trotted out, the air is thick with balmy anticipation and nervous excitement “Which group do you belong to?” She asks, lancing the tense air that had inflated sharply like a balloon. “Me? Which group do you think I belong to?” He fires back, his mouth drawn into a smile.
Music video production, is at its heart, an art form that is significantly beholden to the vision and whims of the music artist and label executives. Music video directors—rightly—have to walk the tightrope between sufficiently distilling the essence of a song into a video and managing the desires and whims of an artist and their representatives. The problem, however, is that in between all of this, there’s often little wiggle room for the director to execute his ideas significantly. The result is often a situation where the music video director becomes diminished from an artist to a little more than an artisan. TG Omori, however, has in his long career railed against this. There’s no doubt that like his peers he has to straddle the demands of the song and the vision of his clients, but he does this without effacing his distinctive creative language. He has a fluency in packing his work with heady joy, a joy that pervades and steadies Nigerian society despite the many challenges it’s faced with.
TG Omori stumbled into music video direction by chance. He had been struggling as an actor, begging directors for roles as an extra—his skits and sketches from this period are still available on the internet—when it dawned on him that achieving success as a performing act was incredibly difficult. He noticed that a lot of upcoming actors were struggling to get by and often had to abase themselves in the process of currying favors with directors. The role of film director slowly started to worm its way into his heart, driving a wedge between him and his acting aspirations. Finally won over, he made the pivot to filmmaking, eventually settling on music video direction on account of its relative ease.
His early works lack his distinctive style, instead taking inspiration from directors before him. Consider YCee’s “My Side” which he directed in 2018. The video opens with YCee perched atop a high-rise building. The colors are muted, contrasting his current works which generously deploy bright hues and saturated lighting. There’s a gorgeous scene where YCee is framed against a wall with slits. Shafts of light stream in from behind him, creating a transcendent portrayal of an animated silhouette enveloped in light. The entire video evokes the elevated minimalism of Moe Musa. Think of the opening scene where YCee saunters atop a high-rise building, it’s a motif that has been deployed countless times by Nigerian directors, but something about that scene—the minimalism of the setting juxtaposed with dynamic camera movements—brings to mind Moe Musa’s video for Olamide’s “Bobo.”
While his early works lack his signature–the distinctive exuberance we’ve come to know him for–they hold kernels of what would come to be. Even in the muted ambiance of “My Side,”we see an early iteration of the pristinely dynamic camera movements that sweep through his oeuvre. In the video of Olamide, Wizkid & ID Cabasa’s “Totori,” released in 2019, his directional language starts to take form. He was contracted at the last minute to film the video—he had less than a day to come up with a concept, marshal his crew and steward the logistical aspect of the shoot, and yet in this pressure cannon, a gem was formed.
The video contains just one main scene—one of the few vestiges of the shoot’s hurried nature. We see Wizkid and Olamide encircled by an energetic crowd. A circle of dark bodies sways to the beat, handkerchiefs flailing in the air. We also see the flamboyant lighting that has come to define TG Omori’s work. There are light sources outside the frame but the scene itself is illuminated by a clever array of light sources. Moving headlights cut through clouds of smoke, LED lights and tungsten bulbs of varying colors suffuse the atmosphere with warm iridescence. The effect is the feeling of being transported to a rave. What’s perhaps most striking about this video is that, having been hastily formulated, it contains a single scene, and yet not one minute of it feels boring or repetitive.
Having worked across virtually every area in Nigeria’s sprawling music scene T.G Omori’s lore has taken on an almost mythic quality over the years. However, nowhere is his impact more pronounced than in the Nigerian Street-Pop scene. Today, Street-Pop has largely ridden itself of its underground status. Artists like Seyi Vibez, Shallipopi, and Asake imperiously lord over charts in the country, each boldly raising the banner of their respective cities and hoods. But this wasn’t always the case. In Afropop’s early days, Street-Pop was relegated to the margins, sneered at by industry gatekeepers for its brash flourishes, even though the mainstream routinely tapped it for inspiration. By the early 2010s a new generation of Street-Pop acts—Olamide, Phyno, and Reminisce amongst others—would elevate Street-Pop’s profile to historic heights. But it still maintained an insidiously tense relationship with the mainstream.
The first signs of an industry-wide shift–the shift that has blossomed into Street-Pop’s hegemony today–arrived in 2019 at the height of the Zanku movement. The addition of “movement” underscores just how significant Zanku was. On one front, it’s the title of Zlatan’s titular 2018 hit and an acronym for the phrase “Zlatan Abeg No Kill Us.” But it’s also used to denote a distinct flavor of Street-Pop characterized by skittering drums, cascading percussion, and a laissez-faire style of delivery—heralded in late 2018 by Street-Pop folk heroes like Zlatan, Chinko Ekun, and Naira Marley.
When culture critics reminisce on the Zanku era, the focus is usually on the artists who spearheaded it, but T.G Omori’s contributions to that period of Street-Pop’s ascendancy are impossible to ignore. While the artists shaped the sounds and dance steps that defined its grassroots appeal, it was T.G Omori who gave it its distinctive aesthetic. His early collaborations with Zlatan—most notably on “Shotan” and “Bolanle” offered a template for how the videos of the era could be presented on screen: hyper-stylized yet rooted in the whimsical chaos of street culture. His use of slow motion, jump cuts, and dynamic tracking shots turned what would otherwise be yet another ephemeral trend in Afropop’s dynamic history into a cinematic experience that embodied the feeling of the era.
His video of Naira Marley’s “Soapy” is especially telling. Arriving in the wake of Naira Marley’s arrest by Nigeria’s anti-graft agency, the Economic and Financial Crimes Commision (E.F.C.C.), the video very cleverly satirizes the experience, framing him, as well as others who were arrested alongside him—Zlatan and Rahman Jago, amongst others—as heroes as opposed to criminals. It’s important to grasp the significance of this. Street-Pop acts had always been treated with suspicion. There almost seemed to be a tacit consensus that regardless of their success or status, they mirrored an unsavory part of society, and so they deserved the asterisk that seemed to loom over their every move. The arrest of Naira Marley and his posse only served to further strengthen this narrative. TG Omori’s video, however, spun an alternative narrative, a hagiography perhaps, from this fraught situation. The video opens with annotated mugshots of the group, their names tacked onto each mugshot. Through TG Omori’s lens, prison becomes transformed from a place of despondency to a sanctuary where friends happily muck around, regaling themselves with games and bubbly dancing.
TG Omori’s influence in shaping emerging sonic movements extends beyond the Zanku era. It’s impossible to recount Asake’s rise without considering the video director’s input. 2022 marked Asake’s singular and meteoric rise to fame. His music blurred the boundaries of genres, creating an amorphous sound spread across the continent with intensity. His ascendancy also broke the boundaries between Street-Pop and mainstream Afropop, marking the dawn of a new era. TG Omori played a pivotal part in Asake’s early days, crafting a freewheeling visual aesthetic to match Asake’s disposition for subversion. In the video of Asake’s “Peace Be Unto You,” we see his freewheeling ethos at its peak. The song’s themes span faith, hustle, success, and street credibility. In the hands of a lesser director, the video would have followed the familiar script of a grass-to-grace narrative. TG Omori, however, rejected that cliché in favor of a more abstract approach.
Each of the themes explored in the song is distilled to a representative scene, the scenes are then cleverly stitched into a brilliant whole. The opening sequence sees Asake on a motorcycle, a formation of riders trailing behind him. As he rips through the freeway, doting fans wave and scream in adulation. Watching this scene, one is tangibly enveloped in the feeling of street credibility, the sense of ascendancy, that Asake explores in the song. It’s poignant and symbolic, conveying the essence of the song in a manner that would be difficult to achieve with a literal narrative. Similarly, the video of Seyi Vibez’s “Shaolin,” TG Omori’s inaugural work following a health-induced break, defies any discernible narrative logic in favor of a freewheeling approach. The video’s boisterous energy almost seems like a bold assertion of his continued reign; as if to say “I’m back like I never left.”
In August of 2024, through a series of heart-wrenching videos, as well as tweets, TG Omori let the public in on his health challenges. In a tweet, he revealed that his only brother gave him a kidney, so he could live again. He revealed that the transplant failed and, later, brought on thoughts of mortality. In one harrowing photo he posted on his Instagram stories, he’s hooked to a life support machine, the words “I don’t want to die” superimposed on the image. In the intervening moments, prayers and well-wishes poured in from all corners of social media. In recent months, however, he appears to be in better health and has fully thrust himself back into work, with “Shaolin” being the first of many projects he has lined up.
Eight years after his directorial debut, he remains not just relevant, but the frontman in an industry that’s as cut-throat as it gets. It’s uncommon in Nigeria’s music scene—for a video director to maintain this level of dominance for nearly a decade into the game. It’s his fidelity to subversion and his unique perspective on the art of videography that has earned him his position as Nigeria’s foremost video director. To watch a TG Omori video is to be transported into a world of his creation: where the sun pulses with exuberance, foliage throbs with palpable life, streams of light vibrate with saturated colors, and the streets are perpetually packed with graceful black bodies. It is a world where, regardless of the tyranny of fate, joy manages to always streak through.