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Thanks to the baddies movement and Simi’s “Lost and Found”, the vacancy for a new Afropop girl-next-door is temporarily closed. Since the “Ojagu” days, Simi owned that bubbly space that Nigerians kink for its humble and friendly traits. Now, her OG artist and motherhood statuses outclass that. Simi said her new album “Lost and Found” is a tribute to things we continue to find and rediscover. The cover of her sixth album interprets that premise with a fantasia of Simi opening a rediscovered magical treasure chest, reclaiming her chemistry with music, melody and love stories.
The party starts in earnest with a reflective performance of the album’s title track. Lost and Found is a sobering, honest ballad that corresponds with the confessions of a regular Christian repentant. “Who am I not to count my blessings one by one, by one, by one? / And I’ll learn my lessons ‘cause I was lost, and now I’m found,” Simi sings. “Who knows freedom like someone who was once a slave?” Simi has some ruminative rhetoric to launch at herself and us. “Grateful for wisdom when I remember my foolish ways,” she continues to sing. “Na person wey fall go fit to rise.”
She’s known for producing and mixing her songs and featuring one or two collaborations on her previous projects. But she brought more hands on deck this time, from the Afropop-centric melodies of rising producer LOUDAA, who produced nine tracks on the album, to the sultry r&b of Estarlik Big Fish to FUNWON’s juju-inflected r&b. Their well-tempered productions maintain the consistent laid-back tempo associated with Simi’s music. The sound direction explores nothing unfamiliar; only a songwriter of Simi’s skills, scope and indigenous interpretations would dare walk aboard it, with familiar experiences, and strut away.
This is Simi’s rejuvenation from the absence her music created during the two years she was away, primarily catering to motherhood. If we’re talking cheesy, funny, real lover girl content and currency, Simi has r&b relevancy on “Lost and Found” although it may not resonate much beyond core listeners. On Know You II, she relishes and recreates extends the magic handed in Know You, her first collaboration with Ladipoe. This magic is nowhere as spellbinding as the refreshing, for-the-new-skool jam with Lojay on Miracle Worker.
The naughty girl-next-door Simi plays on Gimme Something and All I Want. Without losing sight of romance, the music gets more playful on One of One. Romance Therapy is an appreciation of a (finally) understanding lover. Borrow Me Your Body with Falz should’ve made it to the archives. It’s a leveller in comparison to the “Chemistry” they created. The bad-girl tactic assisted by Tiwa Savage on Men Are Crazy hits the goal on social listening and patriarchal capitalisation. It’s not a bad song, but it’s the type to get skips. [ad][/ad]
Words of affirmation are prevalent in Simi’s songs. She needs assurance on RnB Luv and its screams for a seductive Seyi Shay verse. Woman to Woman is a beautifully orchestrated salute to the women folk. The album’s zinger comes in the form of Alafia with Bella Shmurda. “Baby, ma j’oju mi o, baby ma j’oju o / Ma je kaye riwa / Oun a ni lan na ni / Baby, ma j’oju mi o, baby ma j’oju o / Funmi lalaafia, funmi lalaafia o.” Simi asks for lifelong commitment and peace, not emotional hurt, betrayal or messy drama. It catches Simi in her most honest form. Bella Shmurda’s tenor rings through the song with a romantic Afrobeats glossary.
Messiah is an exciting collaboration between Simi and Asa, who has inspired the former since she was a youngin. The song’s a mellow rejection of the weighty burdens of others, a bob-and-weave track. It’s every man for himself. Call it selfish, but no one gives others what they need for themselves. Jowo featuring Ebenezer Obey could have been another beautiful track if it worked with the original material or takes a bite of the guitar instead of recording the Juju legend’s vocal decline.
From self-searching to lifelong commitment and feisty Men Are Crazy, Simi explores different versions of herself. Although it feels like a reinvention, the girl-next-door narrative remains and has yet to age well in her biography. It makes the music feel like she’s comfortable with the victories delivered in the past. “Lost and Found” is reminiscent of her previous works, “Simisola” (2017) and “Omo Champagne Volume 1” (2019).
“Lost and Found” is a dizzying package of unfiltered love confessions and unapologetic romanticism, young-wifey melodies, subtle girl-next-door vibes, Owambe special numbers, and comeback attempts: Simi gives no power to let consumerism dictate her music choices. She finds comfort in her strength again, then makes another good album out of her rediscovery.
On her debut album, “Born in the Wild,” Tems pays tribute to herself and to her previous state of being. “Wild” suggests a Wild Wild West, perhaps an interpretation of Nigeria, rarely a place for dreamers. But Tems made it out. This album is her musings and good time draped in warm guitar strings, energetic summer vibes, hopeless romantic lyrics, and some busy music.
Tems opens the album with the titular folk ballad Born In the Wild. Coming from a place where showing emotions is usually and unfortunately taken for weakness, she peels back on the trauma endured.
Crazy and wild things may happen, but Tems sees them through to the end. On Special Baby (Interlude), her mum encourages her to continue to find succour in the strength of her name, Temilade (the crown is mine). I hear a mother’s prayer manifestation and moral support. You hear a reiteration of the Temilade Interlude from her 2020 EP, “For Broken Ears.”
The actualisation of one’s dreams and the juicy fast life of celebrity birthed one of Biggie Smalls’ most iconic lines, “It was all a dream.” A sentiment Tems shares about fulfilment on Burning. It soon flips into a brood about human inescapable suffering that’s susceptible to all regardless of fame and wealth. She choruses “Guess we are all burning,” interpretable to “Me sef I be human being o” in simpler language. Tems’ at her best here. I guess uncomplicated, ambivalent subject matters can be blissful and sufferable feelings are convertible to ethereal.
The music gets busy on the next three tracks. The bounce is as alive as her confidence on Wickedest. But the Magic System’s 1er Gaou sample fails to magnify the song. Perhaps that’s owed to the jumble recapture of the Makossa spirit and its tale of betrayal and ironies of success for a bouncy, braggart bop.
Her complete reimagining of Seyi Sodimu’s Love Me Jeje follows before Get It Right (featuring Asake) cues in. They’re party-ready. An adventurous Tems invites Asake into the familiar territory of Fuji-Amapiano-pop.
On Ready, Tems continues her search for higher frequency like a fiend relentlessly finds their high. “No fear in my mind, it’s a new story” and “All grass does is grow, don’t you think so?” are her declarations that she won’t hide anymore. In one word, her new story is “fearless”. She’s a bad girl in need of a badass partner — the persona she embodies in Gangsta, which interpolates Diana King’s L-L-Lies. But in Unfortunate, one can learn from Tems that to be gangsta isn’t throwing fits up and down; it’s detaching from situations where other parties can’t be trusted. She congratulates herself for avoiding an unfortunate issue; that’s gangsta enough.
But this gangsta soon surrenders at the helm of love matters. Boy O Boy puts Tems through a scorned love for a despised lover. Forever burns with the same attitude but funkier. It makes juice out of the ex’s desperation. On Free Fall, Tems finds love again. But one can tell it’s just a forlorn hope robbing her heart. J. Cole’s verse, cute though not striking, doubles down that love experiences calm as much storm.
It gets clinical on the next interlude, Voices in My Head, as Tec — Show Dem Camp member and one of Tems’ managers — offers knowledge about experience, truth, love and motivation as tools to move through life.
The celebration continues on Turn Me Up and T-Unit, which puts Tems in her rap bag and gives a specific nod to 50 Cent’s Candy Shop. Me & U plays next and throws Tems in an upbeat soliloquy about finding faith, the god of self and connecting to the higher being. But looking back at when we first heard this as the lead single in October 2023, it’s more comfortable as an album track than the perfect album taster.
The vibe extends to You In My Face, which speaks to her inner child, a song to go to when everything’s falling apart. The album wraps up in optimism with the closing track. Even when the ship batters, the anchor can still hold. That’s the message Hold On holds onto. It’s giving modern-day negro spiritual with hip-hop and calypso twists.
As tone-setting conversations about Tems’ musical style continue, more critics agree that she’s excused herself from Afrobeats for a larger U.S. audience. But this is an effect of sticking every Nigerian contemporary singer to Afropop, a genre, as opposed to Afrobeats, an umbrella for popular music and culture out of Nigeria.
Released a week apart from Ayra Starr’s applauded sophomore release, “Born In the Wild” may be another cautious win for Afrobeats. It’s vintage R&B and neo-soul adorned in an African night of merriment. It’s enjoyable, and so is its mix. Its production, done majorly by Tems and GuiltyBeatz, is endurable. The lyricism is one-dimensional.
Without the snappy production, it sounds more like a genius’s ramblings, hard to listen to. This is nothing more writers in the room can’t solve. Due to its non-conformity to the Nigerian mainstream sound, the music is understandably unfamiliar — a dilemma homegrown listeners may struggle with. It sounds like a Siamese twin EPs, yoked by Tems’ high-pitched soprano. It can do without some tracks.
Is “Born in the Wild” a flawless album?
A flawless album is loosely defined as a body of work of a captivating and geographic cocktail of shape-shifting songs. By this definition, the answer to Tems’ preoccupation about her debut is in the affirmative: No, it’s not a flawless album. But perfection is subject to different ears.
If this is Tems’ music aftermath coming on top of personal woes, it’s an acceptable offering. She made it through the wild, and this is her post-trauma self-celebration.
Ayra Starr turned 21 in 2023. But like stars, her reflection is in retrospect. Hence, her second album, “The Year I Turned 21” (TYIT21), appears a year later, aligning perfectly with her birthday. In notice of this, her age-themed albums draw a specific parallel to the British music icon Adele. One can argue that Ayra Starr’s music and sonic concerns are different, but the universality of the experience of marking youth and independence is intact.
Age 21 was also a year of many firsts for Ayra. She came into 2023 with Sability and ended the year with appearances on two American movie soundtrack albums (Creed 3 and SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE) and a posthumous album of the legendary Bob Marley. She went on her first world tour. She was named Amazon’s Breakthrough Artist of 2023. She climbed the O2 stage for the first time at Rema’s “Ravage Uprising” show. A title doesn’t get more specific. “The Year I Turned 21” is a more profound title than a chronological buildup on her “19 & Dangerous” debut.
Now enjoying some career moments that surpass most of her predecessors’, conversations about Ayra’s music shift her to a trajectory that may transcend her into Afropop’s matriarch. Alongside Tems, she’s the anointed leader of the new uprising of female Afropop singers. These favourable speculations are fever pitches as her quick conferment majorly rests on the merits and success of her sophomore album.
The music is saying…
“I learned to be gangster, way from these dark times,” Ayra shares in Birds Sing of Money, opener of “TYIT21.” She spends the rest of the album owning that fearless identity, finding and defining what it means for her to be 21. How does she separate a fugazi from true love, independent versus dependent? Does she want to express freedom or curb enthusiasm, be a baby or face adulthood, keep her guard up or be a goofy youth, be a people-pleaser or live carefree, workaholism or chill and enjoy the fruits of labour?
Ayra’s music blends styles — afrobeats, hip-hop, pop, R&B, ragga, dancehall, house, amapiano, indie folk — to probe her conflicting feelings. She plasters them all against the backdrop of her career, expanding celebrity and blooming 20s. Her lyrics can be saccharine, but don’t get to a conventional bore.
With numerous global achievements just four years into her music career, Ayra has built her universe so high that the chant on Birds Song of Money ceremoniously likens her to the stars that light up the night. Forty seconds into the song, whose also uneasy but organised violin, heavy hip-hop drums, breezy strings, chiming chords, and reggae undertones thump with a threatening assertiveness, yet it’s also calm and composed, one marvels at the pure sonic mastery. Fantastic production by London and Marvey Again.
Her melodies are flexible, as is the boomeranging flow she spins on the P2J-produced Goodbye (Warm Up), featuring Asake. Ayra shows a toxic partner the door out, while Asake plays the heartbroken, self-righteous partner who lowkey won’t let go. His verse’s almost introspective that it convinces chronic gossip blog readers that it’s likely his response to his recently broken relationship. Ayra and Asake share chemistry, but this song’s strangely a mellow track hatched for the TikTok girlies and intimate parties like aprtment life where she previewed the song in April.
The already-released Commas sports an upbeat composition, interestingly just a tone and pitch away from Tekno’s Peace of Mind. Exchange ataraxis for financial merit, and you have a testament to Ayra’s increasing multiple-stream incomes and quality mindset. Commas has joyful production and melodies, though those overshadow its simplistic message that charges listeners to fight dirty for their dreams if they have to. All there is to know about the commitment to excellence is in her lines: “Dreams come true, if na fight / Fight the fight, make you no go tire / Fire dey go.” Perhaps it’s why it took fifteen versions and three producers (Ragee, London and AOD) to get the officially released Commas, according to her revelation during a recent sit-down with Billboard.
“Commitment to excellence” is a watchword she carries to her interviews these days. An evidence of that is her passage into the global music scene that fully unlocked after her appearance at the 66th Grammy Awards, where she was an inaugural nominee for the Best African Music Performance category. Put that moment into a lyrics generator, and Drake’s “Started from the bottom, now here we here” will pop up. She was excited to be there. So were the Western press and industry players warmed up to the new African music star girl. But frankly, her trajectory to own a seat among existing envelope-pushers like Tiwa Savage, Yemi Alade, and Simi has taken shape since her savvy, critically acclaimed 2022 “19 & Dangerous” debut album. It has a few national hits that pushed her over to international eyesight.
In Woman Commando, featuring Anitta (Brazil) and Coco Jones (U.S.), Ayra brags about flexing her squad and carrying everyone along, sounding confident and pleased as the production reverberates Ragee’s bass-heavy house instrumental. It’s a straight jam.
The album’s upbeat energy descends as Ayra segues into a lover’s mood. She flirts in Control, which interpolates Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie, and she’s tipsy and ebullient on a potential one-night stand. She opens herself up to emotional attachment, but it soon gets tiring on the Lagos Love Story that sounds like a love song that’s trying too hard. It’s mechanical and an unnecessary segue into the lively Rhythm & Blues (produced by Sparrq). [ad][/ad]
On 21, the album’s theme song, the weight of emotional distress, adulthood, self-reliance, boundaries and (it goes without saying) enjoying the fruits of her hard work weighs on her. It’s a niggle of new baggage, not a pity cry. When Ayra’s on an R&B production, her command of her emotions grip. It’s no surprise she’s convinced she writes better sad songs. This production by Fwdslxsh, KillSept and Mike Hector is a convincing ambience. Hopefully, an R&B album is in her future.
It gets fragile on Last Heartbreak Song. Ayra throws away a one-sided love while American brittle-baritone vocalist Giveon chides himself for letting a real love slip away. This song dates back to the “19 & Dangerous” recording session with Loudaa, but is there a heartbreak song that retains the prospect of intimacy? It’s the Last Heartbeat Song.
Still laid-back, Mystro takes on the next production. Bad Vibez featuring Seyi Vibez slides us back to Afropop. It’s bouncing over a plush R&B ballad to ward off negative energy, likely the internet moralists that police her short skirts and experimental fashion. It’s an exciting collaboration that elitist listeners would enjoy if they were open-minded to the magic of street-pop. To close out the song, she rhymes that she’s still eating off her last hit. It makes an arguable case for the boldest line in Afrobeats in recent times since Asake’s “I know I just blow, but I know my set.”
The songs hop from youthful exuberance to love matters and mental well-being. As Ayra presents herself as a success model, she also grounds herself in her reality as a curious adolescent who knows she has time to learn from more mistakes and has her whole life ahead of her.
Orun is a cry to the heavens. It’s as evocative about personal longings and celebrity pressure as it’s declarative about forging ahead, past mistakes, and regrets. It’s a confessional, mezzo-forte track that draws hips into a slow whine.
Jazzy’s Song (cooked by PPriime) comes next, and it’s a turn-up song that unexpectedly samples Wande Coal’s You Bad and alludes to it as Don Jazzy’s likely favourite song rather than a tribute to her jolly label boss and influential music producer. Indeed, it’s a hit but feels out of place between two mid-tempo, emotionally charged tracks. This arrangement hardly lets listeners fully unpack and tie up emotions. It throws the listener in the middle of mood swings.
She trusts Johnny Drill to soundtrack the following 1942. It’s a delicate cut that expresses Ayra’s and her brother Milar’s fear of losing everything they’ve worked hard for. Their duality picks up here: the despair of loss drowns them in a pool of liquor, but they still hold to their faith like an anchor.
The closing track is a letter to her late dad, hoping she’s making him proud. Ayra’s mum’s voice starts the song by encouraging Ayra to live a full life. Her siblings also recount their ages and strides. One can hear the pain and pride in their voices, the kind that desperately hopes that their departed one sees what they’re making out of themselves. The song, produced by Remdolla, echoes out with a proud statement from Ayra’s mum that translates to the track’s title: The Kids Are Alright.
Conclusion
The bonus song, Santa, thematically has no place on this album. It’s just an expansion and numbers strategy that’ll drive up streams and cement Ayra as the first female Nigerian artist to hit 20 million monthly listeners on Spotify. Get your money, girl!
Looking outside in, being young and successful is one of the coolest things one can be, but it can also be an overwhelming position. Aside from squaring with life and the natural struggle to maintain success, being a female recording and performing artist means working multiple times harder and smarter than the other gender. If this is the evolution of the girl superstar who was once 19 and dangerous, it’s partially true. Most of her story thrives in gaiety, youthful innocence, vulnerability and self-affirmation.
With 15 songs, “TYIT21” arrives as a lengthy, nuanced moment Ayra’s having with herself. Rather than a conceptual and narrative album, it’s a string of songs linked by recurring themes: heartbreak and love, happiness and melancholy, openness and boundaries, self-promise and tributes. This is the music you get when endeavouring to memento vivere because personal moments are fleeting, fond memories become distant, and emotions get unhealthily managed. This is the music that makes Ayra feel 21. It’s tough to say the same for the listeners, though.
Compared with her coming-of-age “19 and Dangerous”, “The Year I Turned 21” is her most poignant and impressive work — an album of the year contender. Throughout the album, Ayra stays the dominant voice, in control. Its writing is sustainable, production is high-value, and there’s no Americanisation of the features. It’s just real and bad Afrobeats music. Although the arrangement could have been smoother, not moving tempo to tempo without consistently keeping the listener grounded.
“TYIT21” would garner facile praise and embrace, considering its Zeitgeist hype, convincing rollout, major anticipation, and the currently uninspiring music year. But it’d need time to find its place as that crowning sophomore. This is subjectively a premature evaluation anyway.
According to Polish poet Stanislaw Jerzy Lec, youth is the gift of nature; age is a work of art. Hopefully, Ayra Starr continues to stay alive to her feelings, with more virtuosos to craft them into songs at every juncture of her life.
There are icons in every field. For football, we have Lionel Messi. When we speak of meals, nothing is touching yam. When it comes to music, there is no other diva as iconic as Madame Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter. This woman has consistently put out amazing music for over two decades, and the best of her work yet is Act II: Cowboy Carter.
Highly controversial, heavily resisted, constantly understated yet undeniably innovative is who Beyoncé is. And if you’re not tuned in to Cowboy Carter yet, here are five reasons you should rinse your ears and get into the album.
Cowboy Carter saved country music
Your faves can attest to this. For such a long time, although the CMA and the larger part of White America disagree, country music has been gated. Artists of colour were rarely given the spotlight and had to settle for being sidelined. This racial bias was very evident at the CMAs where Beyoncé and Dixie Chicks had an unwelcoming experience during and after their performance of Daddy Lessons. The crowd visibly did not approve of Beyoncé singing country and although the performance was the most watched that year, the CMA took it off their platforms. While this moment birthed Cowboy Carter and we are grateful, it also means hundreds of black artists get this treatment regularly. The bias was very evident upon the release of Texas Hold’em and 16 Carriages which features a heavy country production, yodelling and an undeniable country twang. For such releases that were pure country, a lot of negative uproar still surfaced.
However, since the release of the full-length album, the whole world is now listening to a new side of country music and black artists are basking in the spotlight. Black country artists like Linda Martell, Shaboozey, Willie Jones, Tanner Adell, Brittney Spencer, Rhiannon Giddens and Willie Nelson got to be a part of such a revolutionary move. That’s icon shit!
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Cowboy Carter made an artistic statement
You can find country pop, bluegrass, country RnB, Country Hip/Hop, Opera, Latin and Flamenco all in one album. If that isn’t peak artistry, then I don’t know what is. We know Beyoncé already said it was going to be a “Beyoncé” album and not just country, but no one was ready for that. She managed to blend so many genres, techniques and layers of history and yet it is undeniably country. From Blackbird, Jolene, Spaghetti, Tyrant, Daughter, Just For Fun down to Riverdance. The whole album is just full of wonderful twists and turns.
Cowboy Carter changed history
If I asked you how it feels to be the first black woman to top the country charts, you would have no idea, but Beyoncé does. Not only has Cowboy Carter charted in countries across the world, but it also helped the featured artists secure their first chartings and massive increases in their streaming. We call it the Yonce effect. The album also became the most streamed album on Spotify within just a day of its release. Who runs the world? Beyoncé does.
The Production is tea
The way Amen and American Requiem flow into each other is just ridiculous. Then let’s talk about the harmonies, cadences and adlibs. Beyoncé pulled out her full range. The vocals are so tightly locked and on point. You get to feel everything in it. Especially on Spaghetti where Shaboozey sang like it was his last song. Somehow the artist collaborations, writers, producers and even the horse used in her cover art were intentional and purposeful. All to showcase country music’s black roots.
Cowboy Carter saved Fashion
Let’s be for real: Beyoncé ate with the cowboy looks. She served cunt. From the hats to the jeans, to the platinum hair, down to the leather and iron buckle. Every look was giving slayonce. No other artist could eat like that. With Renaissance, it was a silver/chrome movement, and with cowboy Carter, everyone is getting their hats and boots ready. Who knows? Maybe the tour will be held in the stables? We can’t put anything past Beyoncé.
Cowboy Carter is a wormhole
The album is woven in such a way that each song tells a story that leads into the other, and you won’t want to miss out on one part of the story. It has 27 tracks, and if you start at the top, somehow, you’ll end up at the bottom. Cowboy Carter truly is Beyoncé’s best work, and that’s a lot considering she has Renaissance, Lemonade, 4, Beyoncé and Dangerously in Love as parts of her catalogue. With Cowboy Carter, Beyoncé has shown us once again, what it means to reinvent oneself and remain Queen of Music.
To catch up with other artists like Zoro, click here.
On the morning of December 22, 2023, Wizkid released a short EP titled S2 (Soundman Vol. 2), a follow-up to Soundman Vol. 1. Two days earlier, on Instagram, he posted an album artwork out of the blues, with the caption “See you on Friday”, throwing fans into a frenzy.
S2 is his first release since More Love, Less Ego in 2022. Coming in the Christmas season, just like Soundman Vol. 1 which dropped suddenly on December 6, 2019, Big Wiz has given us four new songs to rinse and repeat as we face a new year head on.
S2 takes on Amapiano while flexing Wizzy’s usual Afrobeats and Dancehall sound, achieving a balance between the low and mid tempo Made In Lagos and the thematic cohesion of More Love, Less Ego.
On the rhythmic rush of slapping log drums and meshed shakers of Ololufe, Wizkid confesses love to his interest. What’s spellbinding is the gentle delivery and verse exchange between Wiz and Wande Coal, which we haven’t got enough of since their collab on For You off Superstar (2010). The P.Priime-produced jam is a modern love story that somehow emphasises on sexual pleasure. It has all the recipes to be great but sounds more in-the-moment than intentional.
Diamond is an assortment of self-reflection, hedonism, smug brags and luxury that rubs in the face. Wizkid likens his tribulations and ensuing superstar lifestyle to his diamond accessories and the pressure they undergo. Life can be fleeting, but Wizkid has seen better days, and he remarks about that with, “Diamond no dey force himself to shine.”
All in all, Diamond takes a familiar Wizzy approach with a relatable story and production handled by P.Priime and Bigfish. It calls for slow dancing and glasses of wine.
Energy plays next. Wizkid, in a superchilled mood, throws woman-worship into his verses, recognising in the hook that he has good and bad days like everyone else. But he keeps himself together with his vices: smoke and sexcapades. He runs through the song smoothly like a butter knife. Wizkid’s romance, soft-life formula and sexy melody never fail — they yield a bop in this song.
S2 closes out with its best track, IDK, featuring Zlatan. TheElements’ production is lush, gets the head nodding and creates an aura of celebration. Big Wiz calls for a good time as a choir subtly backs him up.
Zlatan performs the second verse, the highlight of the EP. Zlatan raps about the luxury lifestyle, fair-weathered women and hustle, with a sprinkle of his animated ad lib and choral backup too. Afrobeats’ poster boy for hustle culture is a worthy guest artist. Wizkid’s writing on the other hand isn’t remarkable, but he continues to prove himself a melody molder.
S2 is experimental and feels like a prelude to what Wizkid has cued up for his next project. He’s featured on Rexxie’s Abracadabra, Metro Boomin’s SPIDERMAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE, Wande Coal’s Ebelebe and Don Toliver’s Slow Motion all year without a solo release.
Wiz has also been on the road for most of the year. He took his music across international stages like Afronation Miami (May), The Other Stage at Glastonbury (June) and Rolling Loud Germany in July — the same month he filled the Tottenham Hotspur stadium in England.
Meanwhile, it’s been a bittersweet year for Wizkid. His mum passed away in August 2023. And his “More Love, Less Ego” Europe tour which was scheduled for October has been postponed till further notice.
Despite that, on December 11, Wizkid posted about a ₦100 million giveaway on his IG story. Later that day, he appeared in Surulere, Lagos, and gave back to children in his community.
The same giving spirit has brought us S2. In 12 minutes, the four songs on the extended play cater to the majority of Wizkid’s fanbase. Diamonds is for dancehall lovers. Energy and IDK are for OG Afrobeats fans, and his Amapiano fans have a winner in Ololufe.
Overall, S2 is a decent project that offers a good time. Wizkid likes music, and he’s having fun with it.
It’s been almost three years since Nigerian singer and record producer, Augustine Miles Kelechukwu, FKA Tekno, tried to recapture the essence of “old romance” on his 2020 debut full-length release, Old Romance. The album came with a cover art that creatively alluded to Adam and Eve, but the music failed to express the classic love experience it was packaged to.
The audience he was romancing gave his first album a cold reception, so it seems Tekno went back to the drawing board, took some time to rediscover his essence, before forging ahead again to produce another body of work.
Tekno has kept a mostly low profile, releasing a slew of singles, features and his JINJA EP, but on September 1, 2023, he returned with his sophomore album, The More The Better. With production services from June Nawakii (Twice Shy and Flashing Lights), Taylor Ross and Tuzi (The More The Better, Regina and Can’t Chase. Fiokee produced King of Pop with DJ Coublon; the co-producer with Selebobo and Tekno on Lokation. Egar Boi made Peppermint, Permit and Borrow. Insane Chips is the guy who patterns Peace of Mind and Pocket beats. Ace producer Kriz Beats made Play.
Album art (Spotify)
Once we clicked the play button, the unexpected sample of a classic song instantly grabbed our attention. On the opening track, Twice Shy, British singer-songwriter Dido’s vocals on Thank You spins on a piano chord, meshing into soft jagala drums and 808 bass with lyrics about triumphing over trials and tribulations. Famous for his love songs, has Tekno found a new direction to relaunch himself? After an unsuccessful debut that almost turned him into a has-been, Tekno preaches about staying positive and focused on all the hard work he puts into creating his art.
Tekno borrows a line from African China’s Mr. President, with “Food no dey, water no dey”, but unlike the socio-politically conscious song, Twice Shy is the song of reassurance Nigerians need today. Inspired by the saying, “Once bitten, twice shy”, Tekno subtly suggests that his listeners mindfully focus on self instead of calling on and waiting for the Mr. Presidents who’ve neglected the masses since African China spoke up in 2000.
Listen keenly and you’ll appreciate the effort that must’ve been put into scribing well-thought lines. Tekno has greatly improved himself. He gets into a feel-good groove on the titular track, The More The Better. Enjoyment is part and parcel of Nigerian culture. This is what Tekno melodiously articulates in simple rhymes on Tuzi’s mid-tempo afrobeats production with guitar chords that speak in highlife. Despite life’s challenges, man will still seek pleasure.
Tekno’s voice has changed a bit since he suffered acid reflux and had surgery in 2019, but he pushed through that to produce soothing vocals with a laid-back delivery that runs throughout the album.
Cutting through, Flashing Lights, a slowed-down dancehall with resounding synths and harmonic background vocals, Tekno delivers one of the real jams on the album. It’s like an afrobeats version of singing-in-the-rain r&b — the type of song that makes you close your eyes to listen and then passionately praise your love interest while longing for physical intimacy.
On Peppermint, we jump into the unique, party starter sound and style of Alhaji Tekno — pop-esque, fast-paced, slapping drums and repetitive lyrics. It’ll bang extra hard if he gets in African Chris Brown mode and performs a choreography whenever he decides to shoot the music video.
The Tekno party carries on into King of Pop, a musical breed of makossa and afrobeats. Hyped AF, Tekno gets the dance floor busy with his bright energy, owambe piano keys, body-jerking percussion, Fiokee’s guitar, a sample of Fela’s Shakara and adlibs reminiscent of Awilo Logomba. King of Pop is Tekno’s subtle reminder that he’s the best at making party jams when he wants to. This one is for a local setting like a bar with dull, multicoloured lights.
Tekno tunes down the party to reflect on his Peace of Mind on the sixth track. Through emotive songwriting, he vaguely recounts his humble beginning and sings about patience, blessings and contentment. Generic as the lyrics may be, Tekno shows faith in this new body of work, he’s ready to seize the moment it’ll create for him and you can’t tell him shit. His delivery blends with the to-match afrobeats production from Insane Chips.
Lokation has quelled log-drums and sparse guitar strings all over it, providing a lush medium for Tekno to ask about the whereabouts of a romance partner, as he shalayes about the love that’s got him hooked. He boasts that only kayamata can make him love like that. That can’t be healthy.
In Pocket, Tekno slips back into party mode to spread his motivational message of enjoyment, positive vibes and financial freedom with fast tempo, infectious drum patterns and his usual playful interjections. Permit employs thumping log-drums, fiddling guitar strings and simple drumlines. He swings between flattery and committing to spending all his money on his love interest — all the afrobeats lamba.
On Borrow, Tekno switches up his vibe and delivery and enters a fresh zone within the confines of african percussion instruments. Tekno spices things up with a backup choir in the chorus, chanting “Borrow borrow”. With the basicest of lyrics, the song further preaches that personal contentment is key for happiness.
On Regina, Tekno brings down the tempo again with konto drums and lush guitar touches to lay bare his romantic feelings, singing lines like “You be original, no substandard”. Biting off his early reggae-dancehall influence, Tekno spits it into the second verse, complemented by our emo boy, CKay — the only feature on the album — who says, “I like you way too much / E be like my brain dey touch.” Please, is this what love makes people feel?
“Na play-play, na play-play, na play-play, we take reach where we dey,” is the leading statement on Play, before Tekno sings about all the nights he tearfully sought the face of God in prayers to make an evident success out of a bleak beginning. Throwing all his gratitude to sky daddy, a children’s choir aids his thanksgiving, but the best thing about this song is its introspection and subtle political statement.
Tekno observes that everyone’s nonchalance has pushed Nigeria to its current sorry state. He takes from 2Face’s For Instance and African China’s Mr. President once more, while maintaining a mix that’ll slap as a political rally jam and a special number at church events.
The album closes out with Can’t Chase in which he confesses that he’s too lazy to go through a talking stage or apply pressure to win the love of his life — an emotional song about having no emotions. It’s sweet and toxic, clearly his perspective on relationships. It’s whispering red flags as Tekno Miles melodiously rocks Tuzi’s afrobashment (AKA afroswing) instrumental.
The More The Better is a thoroughly enjoyable album overall, an applaudable improvement from his last work. The brilliant sequence makes it a no-skip project for us. Doubling down on a refined version of his signature style, Tekno spices up the current afrobeats soundscape with a sprinkle of classic songs from Dido and Africa’s Fela, Awilo Logomba and African China. We only hope Tekno gives the album the proper marketing and promotion it deserves.
According to popular belief, sophomore albums are cursed, but The More The Better breaks the jinx to become Tekno’s best body of work so far. Even the album art, which features a three-headed Tekno, symbolises the transcendental spirit of expanding beyond one’s personal limits, an idea that shines through this album and cements Tekno as a returning Afrobeats champion.
Zikoko’s Burning Ram meat festival is coming soon. We can’t promise to bring Tekno, but you’ll stand a chance to win a live ram if you attend. Stay tuned.
Davido is an indisputable force when it comes to Nigerian music today. Since making a major splash in 2011 with the explosive Naeto C-assisted hit, Back When, he has cemented himself as a universal leader of new school Afrobeats, paving the way for a new generation, all while churning out back-to-back hits.
His last album, the 2020 closer, A Better Time, was responsible for the protest anthem, Fem, club bangers like The Best with Mayourkun and La La with Ckay, and international collaborations with Nas, Nicki Minaj and Lil Baby. His guest features have also made songs like Adekunle Gold’s High and Young Jonn’s Dada bigger hits than they would’ve been without him.
With over ten years in the game and multiple hits to his name, it’s still shocking that Davido has released only three albums: 2012’s Omo Baba Olowo: The Genesis; 2019’s A Good Time; and A Better Time. But to be fair, it’s not that shocking, because Nigerian artists avoid albums like a biblical plague.
Following the massive success of Wizkid’s 2011 debut album, Superstar, 2012 was immediately set aside as the year for another hotly anticipated debut, this time, Davido’s. The anticipation was warranted, though. At the time, Davido had already put out Back When, taken over clubs with Dami Duro and killed his guest feature on Saucekid’s Carolina.
Playing into the image the public had given him (and, to be fair, his reality), Davido named his 17-track debut album, Omo Baba Olowo: The Genesis, which means, “The child of a wealthy father.” But fans were less than thrilled with this mid body of work when the album eventually dropped.
To mark the album’s 10th anniversary this week, I’ve decided to revisit Davido’s musical firstborn to figure out what worked, what flopped and how it foretold the type of musician Davido is today.
The Breakdown
If there’s one thing we know now, Davido is not one to back down from a fight or downplay his worth. The opening track and one of the album’s best songs, All Of You, finds him with the biggest shoulder pads you can find, singing about how he’s the best in the game. A bold statement for a 19-year-old dropping his first album.
For an album about being born into wealth, lyrics like “Back when I was broke yo” sound pretentious AF when Davido sings them on Back When. This doesn’t mean the song doesn’t slap, though, because it does. The first sign of a crack in the album comes up on New Skul Tinz with B-Red and Sina Rambo. Here, we find Davido and his crew trying and failing woefully to convince us they’re the next big thing.
The next five songs — except for Ekuro — Video, Down, No Visa with Sina Rambo and Enter The Centre with B-Red, can only be described as noise with a sprinkle of Davido’s vocals (if we can call it that). These roughly-produced songs drown out his voice and show one of his biggest flaws at the time, weak songwriting.
Ekuro is, however, a big moment for Davido to shine as he holds his own, singing about love — the song lowkey feels like the less than perfect older sibling to songs like Jowo, 1 Milli and Assurance.
With Davido currently standing as one of the kings of features, it’s surprising to see his album had five features from outside his label: Back When with Naeto C, Dollars In The Bank with Kay Switch, Feel Alright with Ice Prince, For You with 2Baba and Bless Me with May D. Feel Alright, Back When and Bless Me are tolerable, Dollars In The Bank fall flat because of its weak production, while For You fails to hit the mark for a song that has Davido and 2Baba.
Davido tries to hit high notes on Sade, but there’s only so much autotune can do. Thankfully, his vocals on songs likeStand Strong work as evidence that in this life, you have to try and try until you succeed. The album is rounded up with the twerk anthem Gbon Gbon, where Davido exchanges actual lyrics for an unknown language (or maybe it’s just gibberish).
Final Thoughts
Debut albums are either the best or worst projects on an artist’s discography. Thankfully, for Davido, it’s the latter. Omo Baba Olowo: The Genesis was wild back then, and going back ten years later doesn’t make it any better. One thing it does, though, is show us just how much Davido has grown as an artist and collaborator. A feat not many of his colleagues can boast of.
To get the hit-making Davido we have today, we needed to experience the cringe Davido we had on this album. I’m grateful for that because it’s all about the journey in the end, and Davido’s has been nothing short of remarkable.
The last time Falz dropped an album, we hadn’t experienced a panini or the life-changing #EndSARS protests. It was 2019, Miss ‘Rona was still preparing for her tour, and all was relatively alright with the world. Back with a six-pack, Falz is ready to make a surprising statement with his new album, Bahd.
Considering 2019’s Moral Instruction and the significant role Falz played during the protests, you’d immediately think Bahd would be drenched in social justice anthems. Choosing the soft life instead, this album finds Falz in his most chill era yet, avoiding stress and being a baby boy. While we’re here for his obvious sonic growth and much-needed dive into escapism, we’re not sure everything slaps.
The Breakdown
Bahd opens with the smooth and simple Another Me. Carried by a super seductive bass guitar, we’re also introduced to Falz doing his best Don Toliver impersonation (spoiler alert: it works). Another Me kicks things off early on, on a positive note, managing to blend both the nostalgia of 90s baby-making R&B and the mumble rap that kids on TikTok fuck with these days. Listening to the past and the future in one song is always welcome experience.
Falz does well to deploy some of the album’s best tracks to the front in a five-song stretch. Another me is followed by All Night, the album’s first potential radio hit and a romantic bop that needs its video like yesterday. Tiwa Savage lends her in-demand vocals to Beautiful Sunflower, the album’s third track and first collaboration. It’s a cute song, but there isn’t a lot of meat on the track, which is slightly disappointing considering what both stars are capable of.
Parampe is the second standout track on the album and an obvious nod to the work of the Kutis, but without the gragra of a certain African Giant. It borrows from these icons without drowning out Falz’ identity in the process. Knee Down marks the first collaboration to make a statement, with Chike deep in his Nollywood “I will die for you” lover boy bag on the track’s chorus.
These songs are unfortunately followed by the uninteresting Pull Up, which sounds like a 2017 Runtown or Mr. Eazi bonus track, and Gentleman, where Falz frustratingly does his best to make a song out of every rhyming word in the dictionary.
Highlife brothers, The Cavemen, help Falz find his groove again on Woman, before we’re introduced to Tender Love, which packs a tender punch. The last three songs are features, with Timaya and new Mavin signee Boy Spice making an appearance on the Duktor Sett-produced, Inside — a highlife “let’s groove” banger that works on it’s own, but fails to tie in with the overall production vibe of the album.
L.A.X and BNXN round up the album with Roger Milla and Ice Cream respectively. Roger Milla feels like an album filler, and for someone who’s last album had just nine tracks, this feels unnecessary. BNXN continues his winning streak with the infectious line, “I scream, you scream, we scream for ice cream.” What do you all know about being a lyricist?
Our Verdict
Falz has built a reputation for making digestible rap with a pendulum that’s swung between conscious and overly playful. But with Bahd, we see the rapper leave both identities behind for something more laidback. He’s not out to make a major statement with this album, but we can’t complain. Not all the songs on Bahd are winners, but the ones that hit? They really hit.
Highs: Another Me, All Night, Parampe, Knee Down, Woman, Inside and Ice Cream
Lows: Pull Up, Gentleman and Roger Milla
We don’t know: Beautiful Sunflower and Tender Love
It’s been seven years since Davido dropped his debut album, Omo Baba Olowo, and a lot has changed for him since then. Not only has he found love and immense global success, but he’s also much more musically adept, and all that is clear on his sophomore album, A Good Time.
On the 17-track LP, Davido reaffirms that his boundless charisma is still his strongest asset. “I’m a shooting star in a blockbuster”, the afropop heavyweight declares on the strong album opener, “Intro”, and it’s an apt description for one of the genre’s brightest frontmen.
Like the title suggests, the album is a feel-good release, designed to go down with very little effort. Davido doesn’t tackle any weighty themes, choosing, instead, to sing about the joys of being in love, with the most affecting of these tracks being the refreshingly calm “Get To You”.
As for the featured acts, almost everyone delivers. Summer Walker, r&b’s newest treasure, steals the show on “D&G”; Naira Marley switches up his flow to interesting effect on the sultry “Sweet In The Middle”; and Dremo bodies Gunna and A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie on the delightful “Big Picture”.
“A Good Time reflects on the ability to trust the timing of your life, enjoying the best moments & persevering through the worst ones.”
Davido has always been a hitmaker at his core, and as expected, the album has a ton of tracks that would make easy hits if released as singles. Overall, A Good Time is a solid effort, brimming with infectious melodies and some much-needed positivity.
Burna Boy’s follow-up to his 2018 career-defining album “Outside” has arrived, four months after “Steel and Copper“, an intermediate release that placed his year in context. Just so you’re certain how significant his 7th body of work is, the album’s press release alludes to the belief that 7 is the number of perfection, “an auspicious sign from our gods that one is on the right life path.”
Burna would be justified in thinking so. In the last 18 months, the 28-year old who opened his debut album, “L.I.F.E” by implying that his path was predesigned has put together the run to support those claims. When, days before his album’s release, Burna performed on Jimmy Kimmel’s show — a high profile set that many compared to Majek Fashek’s 1992 appearance on the David Letterman show — it seemed like a logical next step, not the rare exotic showcase that African music is often presented as.
For the first time in a decade, fans are acknowledging that Afropop’s long-standing duopoly, Wizkid and Davido has a third entrant. The truth is that the duopoly no longer exists.
His response to the Coachella 2019 promotional fliers may have shot the ‘African Giant’ tag into infamy, but the multiple themes that dominate the album date further back to his earliest mixtape, “Burn Notice”.
Burna Boy’s Coachella set also set off an inevitable conversation on how much African music needs the US market. If he felt any pressure to address those concerns, there is no evidence here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BuMM9vv4Gt0
“African Giant” sounds like an assertion of Burna’s belief in himself, the era that birthed his multiple tastes of the Nigerian experience, the cultures he has come to cross-pollinate and the continent he speaks for.
Much of that is down to Burna’s own primary inspirations. Damini Ogulu has, in the last few months, given a contemporary twist to Fela’s militant afrobeat on three singles, “Ja Ara E“, “Anybody” and “Gbona“. The album’s title track follows the trend, but more so in theme than tone. “Tell them Africa don tire,” is an apt summation of the collective mood among the continent’s youth.
Like Fela, Burna presents himself as a messiah – “so here comes the African Giant,” – even if he knows it will take more to save us. It closes with a sample of an Igbo folk song with lyrics, “Obudu Obelugo jimjim” that translate into: “The country is shaking.” This theme of Africa’s struggle, liberty and pride is strong through the album.
“Wetin Man Go Do“, one of the album’s more sombre cuts, shrouds the perpetuity of the average Nigerian’s struggles for necessities in folksy guitars and Fela Kuti’s call-and-response delivery. “Dangote“, titled after Nigeria’s richest man, is a reminder that the paper chase never ends — something a large number of his listeners relate to in more survivalist terms. “Collateral Damage” sits on a jaunty beat that Burna uses to evoke a charged Fela Kuti and blatantly state several Nigerian truths. “My country problem pass Jesus” is a sharp comment in a society where religion has never delivered returns on the people’s devotion.
“Another Story”, one of the album’s best tracks, samples the opening words of Jide Olanrewaju’s acclaimed documentary “A History of Nigeria“. (The excerpt, which describes how the Royal Niger Company traded the area now known as Nigeria, has inspired a wave of interest so strong that many fans are now revisiting “Royal Niger Company” by rapper Jesse Jagz.) Buoyed by a stellar, descriptive verse by Ghanaian rapper, M.anifest, Burna interpolates other conscious songs: 2baba’s “E Be Like Say” and Original Stereoman’s street-pop hit, “E Dey Pain Me” to paint what is, in essence, an updated version of the same reality.
Burna Boy’s 2018 album was described as a ‘fine lesson in mixing genres without making mud’, “African Giant” sums up what it means to be a Nigerian born in the 1990s, raised on different continents in the digital 2000s, and representing Africa in a globalised 2019.
These multiple perspectives (on life, culture and music) come across in the variety of sounds he manages to compress into one cohesive body of work. He’s schooled in the electronically-produced bashment and garage sounds of the UK, but Burna’s as comfortable on the live instruments of Ghanaian highlife and Afrobeat.
It’s hard to remember the man who was first introduced to fanatics as a reggae hyphenate. On “African Giant”, Burna seems intent on further obscuring the lines between Afropop and the form of global pop music that has incorporated African melodies. If in doubt, listen to anything from Ed Sheeran’s “No. 6 Collaborations” EP to Beyonce’s “Lion King: The Gift”.
Compared to the high-octane, genre-bending scale of “Outside”, “African Giant” may, at first listen, sound like a deliberately simple take on Afro-fusion. The latter is more atmospheric than its predecessor, and will sound more accessible to first-time Burna Boy listeners. That’s because Burna’s influences are more coherent and smoothened. There is little of the purposeful watering-down that other contemporary afropop ambassadors believe to be necessary.
He is as confident painting vivid love scenes in pidgin alongside UK R&B sweetheart, Jorja Smith on “Gum Body” as he is trading boastful bars on a menacing beat with Zlatan Ibile on “Killin Dem“.
On “Omo“, Burna goes back in time to give us a taste of the melodies that made “Smooth Sailing” a cult favorite, then introduces “Secret”, a futuristic reggae/R&B hybrid featuring Serani and Jeremih that asks lovers for utmost discretion.
“This Side“, his collaboration with YG is an unusual gem that sits smack between Lagos and the West Coast that the US rapper wears on his sleeve.
Much of the album’s cohesion is courtesy of the featured artists – a motley crew ranging from a breakout Nigerian rapper to semi-retired world music icons. There are the men and women behind the scenes as well – Burna personally hailed the work of UMPG A&R, Sureeta Nayyar – and perhaps, most importantly, the producers. Hours before the album’s release, he also did a Twitter roll-call of the beatmakers who contributed – Nigerian producers, TMXO, GMK, Chopstix, BenJamz, Kel-P, Kleb Beatz as well as DJDS, Levi Lennox, Skrillex, Dre Skull and Supreme Young Stars.
Thematic albums work best when the soundscape is crafted by one or a few producers. Burna himself has done this before; 2013’s “L.I.F.E” was helmed by producer Leriq to great effect. Here, the list is longer. But much credit should go to Kel-P, who is credited on 10 songs and has found a sweet spot between Burna’s various inclinations.
Not all the collaborations stick. A Future & Burna Boy collab should be flames on paper, but when restricted to an afro-Carribean beat, the two don’t strike up synergy on “Show And Tell“.
More than anything, “African Giant” is a triumph of self. In the days preceding its release, the “Outsiders” as Burna’s fans are known, made references to the early days of his career; days when everyone supposedly knew he would be this big, even if Burna also doubled as his own biggest problem.
Perhaps there is something to be said here about fans and our entitlement to artists and their growth. Not many expected that the hyper-masculine singer who made an album wondering aloud about his place in the world could find himself enough to define a path for the next wave of Nigerian musicians.
In the years since he had his concert cancelled over a court case, Burna Boy has opened up layers within his art that provide context for his person. On “African Giant”, he is at many times sensual (“Pull Up”,”Gum Body”), celebratory (“Omo”, “Anybody”), ponderous (“African Giant”, “Wetin Man Go Do”), introspective (“Destiny”) and militant (“Spiritual”, “Different”).
The album hit its climax at two points. “Pull Up”, the album’s sixth single is followed by a supernal skit by Blaq Ryno that sounds more like panegyrics than a sketch. What follows is “Destiny”, an autobiographical song that could well be an update of “Where I Come From”.
“Feel good, I ain’t gonna lie… They can take everything I have, but they can’t touch my destiny“, he sings. He’s come a long way from the days spent “standing on the corridors, dodging feds and the coroners.”
For all of his troubles, it’s the first time Burna admitted he’s impressed at how his story’s unfolding. It’s a sharp shift from the fears of failure he expressed in the past, and provides fitting context for “Different“, the album’s most glorious moment.
Introduced with a brooding beat, Burna taps two heavyweights, Damian Marley and Angelique Kidjo for a song that is bound to make award nominations lists. “Different” is just that… different. In many ways, it also suggests Burna’s ascension into a class of greats. The PH-born singer reaches astonishing new heights trading monologues with Damian Marley on inequality and the confrontational prophets that these times require.
Four years ago, invoking Burna Boy in the same sentence as Damian Marley & Angelique Kidjo, or worse, as a socially-conscious freedom fighter would have been seen as hasty or disingenuous. Since he propelled himself to the forefront of conversations about Afropop’s global push, however, his belligerence has been translated into the form of hostile indifference it takes to absolve African music of the biases it encounters.
The other crescendo comes at the end of the album. On “Spiritual”, Burna Boy takes on a simple Nigerian pop beat to address that transition. “When you start, them go yinmu” is a line that reiterates the bad press he got in his first few years, but Burna suggests that he’s lined up for a more special purpose than tabloid gossip and click-bait.
As the closing voice on the album, Bose Ogulu’s monologue portrays “African Giant” as a potential watershed moment in Africa’s music and culture.
The black world erupted in pride when Burna Boy’s mother/manager, first said “…the message from Burna I believe would be that every black person should please remember that you were African before anything else” as she received his 2019 BET Best International Act nod on his behalf .
The “Afrobeats to the world” narrative is built on the belief that the world must accept African culture, first for commercial success, but mostly as some sort of validation. “African Giant” comes at a time when it’s never been better to be African. Numerous black artists are accepting their African roots, and re-establishing their ties to the motherland.
Although he is often depicted as Nigeria’s best chance of ‘crossing over’, particularly in the US, Burna Boy has defined a different path for himself on “African Giant”. It is a statement-of-intent; that global appeal can be achieved without sacrificing the influences and experiences that make Africans and our culture distinct.
In a world where movements of the oppressed clamour for validation to varying levels of success, Burna’s symbolic 7th body of work speaks to a continent’s place in the world – it is a thesis on why African pride should be our starting point.
