Understanding the efficacy of socially conscious music in Nigeria
What are the odds of music being a catalyst for change in a politically stagnant country?
To be a sentient Nigerian living in Nigeria is to be intermittently, if not constantly, resentful of the country’s sprawling dysfunctionality. Depending on social class and economic means, individuals have the capability to insulate themselves from the myriad of systemic bumps, but only to an extent. Here’s an example: In 2021, Nigerians still have to deal with fluctuating power supply, a prevalent issue that affects all and sundry, and has now been accepted as part of the Nigerian experience. As a band-aid solution, a portion of the population who have the means rely on power generating sets and inverters, costly and environmentally impactful solutions to an essential service.
In 1999, Nigeria entered its third democratic republic. Coming in three decades after the civil war, which led to the death of over a million Igbo people and traumatised millions more, and a rotation of brutal military regimes that constantly committed heinous crimes against humanity, the re-entrance of democracy signified a renewed ray of optimism for the country’s chances at proper systemic growth. The opening 90-second run of the video for Lagbaja’s “Sùúru Léré” offers a brief, symbolic rundown of Nigeria’s tumultuous travails towards a third attempt at running “a government by the people for the people”. Released in the year 2000, the hooded singer/saxophonist advocated for communal patience while in the early stages of a new government system, and even though he indicated a mild cynicism towards the heavy involvement of top-ranking military officials, optimism was the song’s overarching theme.
Every so often I think of Lagbaja’s “Sùúru Léré”, because it’s one of the earliest songs that helped me understand the Nigeria I was growing up in, and it still frames my relationship with the country. When “Sùúru Léré” was released and went on to become a smash hit song, I was an adolescent whose biggest problem was scoring perfect marks on my primary school home assignments. In the years that followed, and as I became more lucid to the realities of living in Nigeria, this song became a reference point for my existence, in conversation with the most recent definitive political decision in the country’s history.
Similar to every other form of art, music is inspired by, and reflects, the time during which it was created. No matter how personal, universal or detached it is from political events, music always acts as a time capsule for the happenings and ideals of its period. For instance, modern Nigerian pop music is widely adjudged to have begun in the late ‘90s, coinciding, or at least overlapping, with the country’s new democratic republic. With a freer society which aimed to improve systemic conditions to favour individual enterprise and a more open expression of self, the earlier days of modern Nigerian pop music carry even more significance when looked at within the context of its governing political landscape.
Of course, there’s the fact that, even if all music reflects the time at least subconsciously, there’s a long line of music that has consciously and explicitly engaged with Nigeria’s socio-political situation – which stretches back beyond the third democratic republic. Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, an inevitable name in this sort of conversation, famously declared music as a weapon to inspire change for a better future. In Nigeria’s third republic, two former military dictators, both of whom Fela vehemently rebuked in his music, have returned as democratically elected presidents. This outcome begs an important question: what role does “socially conscious” music play in effecting change, over two decades into our longest democratic run?
“We must now understand just how scary it is that we are facing the same problems from the ‘70s”, Made Kuti says on “Different Streets”, off his stellar debut album, ‘For(e)ward’. Made’s missive follows references to a few Fela songs deriding Nigeria’s political state at the time, which was rife with corruption, abuse of power, failure to invest in long-term infrastructures and viable foundation systems that would positively impact the future. It all plays into the idea that Nigeria hasn’t made any socio-political progress, and any positive steps the country has witnessed over the decades has taken place under the dark clouds of terrible governments, regardless of the adopted system.
The obvious denominator is bad leadership, a fact Made pointed out when I spoke to him a few weeks ago. While the underlying components are complex and multi-layered, it’s a widely held belief that the dominance of bad governance is the reason for Nigeria’s unchanging social fortunes. Every so often, there’s the rhetoric of Nigerians needing to become better citizens rather than simply lay all the blame at the feet of its government. As valid as that point is, the simple retort to the government part is its responsibility of creating and enabling a society geared towards incentivising citizens to feel a sense of obligation to the country.
Socially conscious music mirrors this idea, punching upwards way more than sideways. On Eedris Abdulkareem’s seminal hit, “Jaga Jaga”, the rapper points at terrible governance as the root of Nigeria’s undeveloped state in his vitriolic rant. The same ethos applies to African China’s classic “Mr President”, except the singer adopts a tone of admonishment, demanding good governance from those in power lest corruption swallows the country whole. Both these songs were released less than a decade into the new democratic system, and they’ve gone on to remain omnipresent as apex examples of social commentary in music, post-1999.
In the ongoing gory aftermath of the End SARS protests, which involved the cold-blooded killings of unarmed civilians by Nigerian soldiers and the (ridiculous) arrest of protesters and passers-by at a recent protest against the reopening of financial operations at the massacre grounds, I’ve found myself mulling over the place and importance of socially conscious music advocating change, since it’s been established that things don’t change in Nigeria. After all, the leaders on the other side of these observations and vitriolic comments don’t seem to care. The answer possibly lies in the fact that Nigeria is something of a multi-layered paradox, in that, as stagnant, and even regressive, as social, political, and economic conditions are, we’ve become used to finding solutions to the myriad of daily bumps Nigeria presents, holding on to small quantities of hope for better governance while keeping our resentment intact.
Somewhere between recent, socially-inclined full-lengths like Show Dem Camp’s ‘Clone Wars IV: These Buhari Times’, Falz’s ‘Moral Instruction’, Bantu’s ‘Everybody Get Agenda’ and Made Kuti’s ‘For(e)ward’, the elements of this paradox are represented to varying degrees. Ranging from loud agitprop to nuanced commentary, these albums offer important looks at the issues from each artist’s perspective, and even if the resolutions aren’t altogether new, they signify a generation still keen on engaging openly with a political landscape that hasn’t been kind to us, because of how much it shapes the conditions under which we live in.
‘CULT!’, the second solo studio LP by rapper Paybac, isn’t an overtly socially conscious per se, but it’s a finely thought-out project of just how influential Nigeria’s bad governance, and by extension its system, is on our daily lives. On an album with song titles that include “Nigeria Suk My Dik” and “Fuk a Politician”, Paybac paints an autobiographical portrait of being a young man trying to navigate and negotiate with the systemic bumps and potholes of living in Nigeria, while trying to reach his life’s goal. In the year since its release, I’ve revisited ‘CULT!’ more than a handful of times because it mirrors what it means to be young in Nigeria. Considering his reputation as a niche act, I doubt that up to 10% of Nigeria’s youth population are acquainted with Paybac and his album, much less have any sort of communion with it.
Beyond the mental musings about the efficacy of socially conscious music, there’s also the fact that it doesn’t always permeate the mainstream. This is far from an indictment on Nigerian pop music’s emphasis on providing feel-good tunes, because it’s an apt reflection of ideals of the times. For better or worse, Nigeria is an aspirational society; everyone is working hard to insulate themselves from the unnecessary stresses of living in Nigeria, and generally, make life easier from the effects of terrible governance. Within this context, catchy pop songs with seemingly banal concerns captivate Nigerians because they represent the mundane concerns of many and, in many cases, project the lifestyle many look forward to living. It’s also within this context that “hustle anthems” are quite prominent, and rags-to-riches narratives are revered, because there’s the innate understanding of the difficulties of making it in Nigeria’s badly governed society.
From 2Baba and M.I to Burna Boy and SDC, many popular artists have shown that make music that taps both into conventional pop norms and socially conscious leanings are not mutually exclusive. If anything, these examples are ideological indications that it is impossible to not keep an eye out on the country’s socio-political woes. Last November, shortly after his acclaimed fourth studio album, ‘Made in Lagos’, Wizkid delivered a special virtual performance, and while performing his seminal autobiographical hit, “Ojuelegba”, he reworked lines to reflect last October’s protests against police brutality. The Surulere-born, global superstar doesn’t make politically-inclined music, but this gesture was an extension of his solidarity with a cause many young Nigerians identify with.
With little doubt in my mind, Wizkid’s gesture very likely reached more people than the stellar albums by Paybac, Bantu and Made Kuti, but that doesn’t invalidate the urgency these artists imbued into their projects. As important as popularity is, the potency of social commentary in music extends beyond its immediate commercial impact, mainly because its relevance isn’t limited to the moment of, and shortly after, its release. The same way Lagbaja’s “Sùúru Léré” enlightened me years later to the idea that I should’ve grown up in a golden era, following a new dawn of independence, and aforementioned classics by Eedris Abdulkareem and African China remain relevant, socially conscious music finds a way to live beyond its time. While it would be nice for it to spark immediate change, the idea that music with a social message has the capacity for future impact is something to hold on to, value wise. Right?
Dennis is a staff writer at the NATIVE. Let me know your favourite the Cavemen songs @dennisadepeter
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Luwa.Mp4 Releases Riotous Debut Album, ‘punKstA*’
Across the album’s 12 tracks, Luwa.Mp4 continues his fiery exploration and fusion of genres like Punk Rock,...
Rising singer and rapper Luwa.Mp4 has released his debut album titled ‘punKstA*.’ The underground star who has been on a release spree all year long, announced the imminent arrival of his debut only a couple of days ago with a cryptic trailer video and an Instagram caption that simply read ‘PUNKSTA* MONDAY.’
Before the arrival of ‘punKstA*,’ the rising fusion star had been showcasing his diligence and talent with a consistent output that has seen him put out over a dozen songs since the start of the year. A string of singles led to a 6-pack titled ‘lore skooL,’ while a deluxe version that housed 5 new songs came just a month later.
His debut album’s lead single, “pUNK FANTASY,” arrived in late July, setting the stage for what could prove to be a pivotal moment in the underground star’s burgeoning career.
Across the album’s 12 tracks, the eclectic singer continues his fiery exploration and fusion of genres like Punk Rock, Afropop, Hyperpop, and Rap into something uniquely different. Tracks like “Pure Water,” which was previously teased on Cruel Santino’s Subaru Live Stream, the abrasive, Tecno-influenced “pROMISED NEVERLAND,” and the more laidback “pEEp MY RIDE” put on display the sort of varied, autotune-soaked approach that has set him apart and helped carve a growing niche.
While Luwa decided to go solo on his debut, credited as the only recording artist, the album was brought to life by a cast of talented producers like frequent collaborator TOPSY, Emyboi, JTRN, 3CB, FVKK.ANDI and Jeremy Cartier.
Listen to ‘punKstA*,’ here.
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Shekhinah Returns With Surprise Album, ‘Less Trouble’
The South African R&B star is at her most assertive on her first album in four years.
South African R&B and Pop singer Shekhinah has released a new surprise album titled ‘Less Trouble.’ The Durban star, who had been quiet for most of the year, took to social media shortly before midnight to share the new album’s cover, synopsis, and tracklist, simply stating, ‘If you’re seeing this my album LESS TROUBLE is out now at Midnight,’ in an Instagram caption.
The soulful singer first began teasing ‘Less Trouble,’ her first album in over four years, about a year ago when she released its lead single “Risk,” a bouncy Afropop-inspired collab with Ghanaian star MOLIY. A few months after the release of “Risk,” she put out “Steady,” a dreamy pop number that suggested that something bigger was on the horizon. But then it was largely radio silence about a project until its surprise arrival at midnight.
If 2021’s ‘Trouble In Paradise’ represented a coming-of-age for Shekhinah, subsisting some of the dreamy, youthful exuberance of her debut album for more measured musings on themes like heartbreak and grief, ‘Less Trouble’ finds her at her most assertive, writing and singing with the acuity of someone who is grown, decisive and discerning. The delicate opener “Break Up Season” sets the tone for the rest of the album as she shows little tolerance for shady behaviour and toxic patterns.
Other standout cuts on the album like “Bare Minimum,” a sombre collab with fellow South African award-winning singer lordkez, the ethereal, in-your-face interlude “New Casanova,” and the percussive “What Are We,” where Shekhinah contemplates the nature of a relationship but ultimately demands all or nothing, all drive home a part of the album’s synopsis, which reads ‘A BOOK ON MORE HEARTBREAK BUT LESS HEARTACHE.’
Shekhinah invites a couple of new collaborators on ‘Less Trouble,’ featuring the aforementioned MOLIY and lordkez as well as multi-instrumentalist Mars Baby and Young Stunna across the album’s 11 tracks. Mpilo Shabangu handled the majority of the album’s production, while other producers like Michael Morare, her longtime collaborator, Mthintheki Mzizi, and Vuyo also contributed to the album.
Listen to ‘Less Trouble’ here.
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The NATIVE’s First Impressions Of Amaarae’s ‘Black Star’
‘Black Star’ marks another evolutionary arc for Amaarae, and The NATIVE team offer our thoughts after a...
Change has always been a constant theme in any discussion about the career of Ghanaian-American star, Amaarae. Since she emerged as a singular voice in the late 2010s, she has evolved from a sirenic Afropop-adjacent singer into a Punk-Pop firestarter with minimal fuss. ‘Fountain Baby,’ her 2023 sophomore album, was a sweeping departure from the lilting melodies and shapeshifing cadences of the hypnotic ‘The Angel You Don’t Know,’ emphasizing her commitment to charting new courses with her music.
In the lead-up to her new album, ‘Black Star,’ she has wholly embraced a Pop aesthetic and sheen that was reflected on the album’s promotional singles, “S.M.O.” and “Girlie-Pop!.” Now that the album has arrived, the singer has advised listeners not to go in expecting a continuation of the soundscape on ‘Fountain Baby.’ As keen followers of Amaarae’s career from its start, we are sure that ‘Black Star’ marks another evolutionary arc for her, and we offer our thoughts after a few listens.
WHAT WERE YOUR EXPECTATIONS OF AMAARAE GOING INTO THIS ALBUM?
Kemnachi: I had zero doubts that she would impress me again. Amaarae always comes correct. She is audacious with her choices, taking creative risks most artists would not dare to imagine, and somehow rendering them seamless, deliberate, and effortless. Her music has a way of enveloping me: it’s fluid, slightly dangerous, and yet irresistibly sensual. Every project feels like an immersive world she has curated down to the finest detail. With ‘Black Star,’ I knew it was not going to be a mere collection of songs but another meticulously constructed realm.
Bamise: I expected something fun, genre-bending, and sonically diverse in the fashion that Amaarae’s music typically is. I may have taken the album title a bit too literally, though, because listening made me realise I had an eye out for some Pan-African statements or something to spark discourse on African identity, but I didn’t quite catch any of that.
Boluwatife: Amaarae has largely delivered throughout her career, so I knew she was going to come correct again. She’s one of those forward-thinking artists who take the kind of risks most others wouldn’t, but she always manages to make it work. She’s proven to be a musical omnivore who constantly meshes her wide-ranging influences into something new, fluid, icy, and more often than not, sensual. I knew ‘Black Star’ wasn’t going to be any different.
WHAT SONGS STOOD OUT ON THE FIRST LISTEN?
Wale: I liked “Girlie-Pop!.” I feel like it captures Amaarae’s vision of pushing Afropop into the future. She’s also really grown comfortable with music and lyricism and will not dumb down her message for anybody. The instrumental for “Girlie-Pop!” is also a wonder; it’s so dense, but there are pockets for Amaarae to be emotive about her feelings. Top song!
Daniel Akins: I need to hear “B2B” at the next rave I’m at. Amaarae is in her Dance era, and I’m here for it. Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2” with PinkPantheress is the collaboration I knew I needed, and I’m glad they finally linked up. It’s a clear standout on the project; their ethereal style complements each other.
Shina: “B2B” was the one that did it for me. That is my favourite track on the project. The number of times I ran it back was unhealthy for a first listen. It was also really fun to catch the Don Toliver “Best You Had” sample. I need to hear this outside!
HOW WELL YOU THINK THE GUEST APPEARANCES ENHANCED THE LISTENING EXPERIENCE?
Israel: The guest features on Black Star aren’t mere flexes. They’re strategic, theatrical, and sometimes emotionally resonant. They enhance, yes, but they do so on Amaarae’s terms. A standout for me was PinkPantheress on “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2.” The tradeoff is that a few songs feel like dazzling cameos rather than an integrated conversation, yet overall they enhance the album’s drama, texture, and bravado with precision.
Daniel Banjoko: Everyone showed up and delivered, no weak links here. Instead of just guest spots, they felt like vital pieces of a bigger puzzle. Charlie Wilson on “Dream Scenario” nailed his part especially, making the track sound exactly like its name promises.
Moore: The guest appearances on ‘Black Star’ feel very intentional; each one enhances the album’s world without overshadowing Amaarae’s vision. PinkPantheress’s signature airy delivery meshes with Amaarae’s experimental pop sound. Naomi Campbell’s commanding voice on “ms60” is an unexpected but powerful addition, adding drama to the track. Each feature feels carefully chosen.
WHAT SONG IS THE BIGGEST SKIP?
Bamise: Not to be a party pooper, but I don’t get the PinkPantheress collab, “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2.” It feels like a PinkPantheress song with less pop in it, and just borrows the title of the iconic Soulja Boy song but has no other similarities. It’s between that and “ms60.” For me, the chorus of that sounds like something I’ve heard from Amaarae before, and I doubt its absence would have diminished the album.
Shina: I feel like biggest skip is a strong word for a solid project, but if I have to pick a song to skip, it’ll be “ms60.” I think it’s easily forgettable.
Wale: It’s hard to single out a song that stuck out to me, but hearing Naomi Campbell on “ms60” threw me off. It’s just too contrived to bear for me.
WHAT SONG HAS THE BIGGEST HIT POTENTIAL?
Boluwatife: My gut answer would probably be “She Is My Drug,” just because of how she beautifully reworks the melodies from Cher’s “Believe.” DJ remixes of this song could go crazy. But if I were to think a bit more logically, TikTok would probably lap up “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2.”
Daniel Banjoko: “Kiss Me Thru the Phone pt 2” goes crazy. Amaarae and PinkPantheress are the perfect match. This collab feels like it was destined to happen, and it delivers in full. Honestly, I can’t believe it took this long, and now I just need more tracks from these two, ASAP.
Moore: “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2” has the biggest hit potential on the album. The song has a nostalgic, sad party girl vibe that makes it appealing, and it’s also catchy and well-produced. PinkPantheress consistently performs well on platforms like TikTok, and her fanbase overlaps in a really interesting way with Amaarae’s. The collaboration feels organic and exciting, and will likely create a lot of buzz.
OVERALL FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Wale: There is a very visceral quality to how Amaarae expresses desire that I don’t hear very often in a lot of music. It’s abstracted and warped in futuristic textures, but it’s very profoundly human, and it’s always great to hear that even as she advances the sonics of her delivery. I do, however, have an issue with the thematic scope of ‘Black Star.’ I thought there would be overt references to her experiences of navigating her Ghanaian identity, but those references are limited to samples and interpolations. It’s still an incisive listen and a triumph for finding ways to advance music from Africa.
Bamise: It’s Amaarae; she can never go wrong. But for me, this is the album that excites me the least from her catalogue. Other than how bass-heavy some songs on the album are, like “S.M.O.” and “She Is My Drug” among others, it feels similar to other projects I’ve heard from her in a way that’s not exactly refreshing or mind-bending. I may have gotten spoiled by how diverse and eclectic Amaarae’s music tends to be, but I wanted more from her. I expected more gangster, Hip-Hop Amaarae. Thematically, I didn’t get anything that gives the Black Star of Ghana, or black stars are ruling the world. Will I listen again and enjoy every bit of it still, though? Yes, I will.
Shina: So first off, this is a solid body of work. I love the fact that Amaarae stuck with the Dance, Electro-Pop route she was going with throughout the album. The features also played their part, adding their unique touches to each record. I would say, though, a feature I would’ve loved to hear on this project is 070Shake. I think she would have been perfect on “100DRUM,” but we don’t always get what we want, do we? Thematically, I think Amaarae could’ve leaned heavily on her Ghanaian heritage, seeing as the title and cover of the album are a nod to that. Maybe Amaarae just wants us to dance, and that’s what I’m just gonna do, and you should too.
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