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Victony has officially stepped into his sophomore era, proving that his global breakthrough was only the beginning. STARLIFE represents a critical evolution in modern Afropop a project where the Nigerian superstar takes full artistic control, writing and producing across a genre-bending landscape that blends Afrobeats, R&B, rock, techno, and retro nostalgia. Having followed his trajectory closely as he transformed from a rising talent into a visionary sonic architect, experiencing this 15-track album firsthand reveals a artist fearlessly bridging traditional African rhythms with futuristic global sounds.
This body of work pushes further into experimentation with immersive production, elastic rhythms, playful songwriting, and an effortless cool. Supported by guest appearances from FOLA, BNXN, Young Jonn, Blaqbonez, and YKB, the album showcases a superstar who refuses to be boxed into a single sound.
The sonic journey begins smoothly before shifting gears directly onto the dance floor. The opening highlight, "Too Lit," sets the stage with kinetic electricity, powered by melodic 80s-inspired synths and vintage arrangements that instantly establish the album's energetic atmosphere. As the record progresses, Victony weaves through lush string instruments, dynamic percussion, and classic 80s and 90s guitar riffs. By the time track six, "Frne," drops, the transition to high-energy club anthems is complete the instant the beat hits, it transports listeners straight into the center of a crowded dance floor.
Victony’s vocal range remains one of his strongest assets, shifting effortlessly from a velvety, smoky mid-range to high, dreamy melodies that balance lover-boy charm with undeniable swagger. This dynamic delivery shines brightest on "Slick," where his lustrous tone pairs flawlessly with the beat to create an irresistible, seductive energy. It is the ultimate pre-game anthem a song built for getting ready before a night out and guaranteeing all eyes are on you when it hits the speakers.
That supreme confidence continues on "2Fresh," led by smooth delivery and sharp swagger, while "Armed" shifts gears into a mesmerizing, hypnotic trance created by atmospheric melodies and driving drums. As the album moves into a more melodic close, "Missing Piece" caters directly to lovers, delivering an intimate, heartfelt ode to keeping the one close to you.
I am thoroughly impressed by this elevated body of work the sharp writing, the rich instrumentation, the expansive vocal range, and the seamless features all converge to create something exceptional. It is an absolute must-listen from start to finish. With STARLIFE, Victony delivers a versatile, genre-defying masterpiece that captures the pulse of modern music while honoring timeless influences.
Nigerian rap has never had a shortage of talent. What it has had is a shortage of infrastructure - the kind that takes a rapper from a dimly lit bedroom in central Lagos to a global stage with a live band, in front of an audience that showed up specifically to listen.
Ola Blackz understands this gap better than most. He is a percussionist and drummer who fell in love with hip-hop, and the combination produced something neither world could have built alone: GLSessions, a live music platform dedicated to discovering, developing and showcasing Nigeria's emerging rap talent through the specific energy of live instrumentation.
The platform operates on a simple premise;rap music heard liveis a fundamentally different experience from the same music heard through a speaker. The cypher format, the freestyle session, the collaborative performance with live percussion and rhythm are statements about what music can do when it is allowed to be visceral. Nigeria has had cypher culture for years, most visibly through the Hennessy Cyphers that have been running since 2015, but GLSessions approaches the format as a creative hub where artists can sharpen their craft, gain visibility, and exist within a community of musicians who are genuinely invested in each other's growth.
The mainstream conversation around Nigerian music has been dominated by Afrobeats for over a decade. But rap has never stopped existing in Nigeria. It has existed in studios, in underground shows, in cyphers, in the work of artists who kept going despite the absence of the kind of platforms that make careers legible to wider audiences. GLSessions exists to make that work visible, and to provide the conditions it needs to grow on its own terms.
The live instrumentation dimension is the most distinctive thing about what Ola Blackz brings to this space. As a percussionist, he understands rhythm from the inside. That perspective shapes how GLSessions stages its sessions, the energy it creates in a room, the specific way it documents what happens when a rapper's verse lands against live drums in real time. The vision that drives all of this is straightforward: every talented rapper deserves a stage, a platform, and an opportunity to be heard. That commitment seems more radical than it sounds. In all, Ola Blackz is building GLSessions for the rappers who are still finding their path, because they too matter.
IG: sophiannadozie
Nigerian Pop fusionist Victony has been tenderly evolving since 2016 -- freestyles on SoundCloud, covers of Cardi B and Burna Boy, a small online community that kept growing. The lockdown of 2020 pushed him toward his singing voice, a side of himself his producers had always noticed but he had never fully leaned into. His 2022 opus, Soweto introduced him to the world. Two years later, his debut album Stubborn gave that world more to hold onto. Now, with FRE$H and SLICK already out and a mixtape called Starlife dropping August 21, the young bard is in a period he describes as "just vibes." Born Anthony Ebuka, Victony is an artist in full possession of himself and Starlife is where that shows most clearly. Catching up with Deeds Magazine, we spoke about his evolution, the current state of Afrobeats, and the world he is building with Starlife.
Sophia for Deeds: For anyone reading this and discovering you for the first time, how would you introduce yourself?
I'm Ebuka Anthony, aka Victony. A young artist from Lagos, Nigeria.I grew up in Ojo, Lagos. I'm an upcoming creative director - I'm mastering that on the loop.
You started as a rapper on SoundCloud in 2016, covering Cardi B and Burna Boy, and somewhere along the way you became one of the most distinctive voices in Afrobeats. When did you realise the rapper was becoming something else?
It was like 2020. Before then I used to do Instagram freestyles and I had a small online community. I'd put up covers every now and then. Then 2020 came - lockdown and I guess that was a different time in everyone's life. Out of boredom, we were forced to try something different. So I explored my singing side. My producers always told me I had a good voice - once in a while I'd do hooks, and one of my first releases, 'Sing My Song', I sang on it. But I never just thought I would be a singer. Then in 2020 I started trying more singing, started getting comfortable with it, and the rest from there has been history.
When FRE$H was being teased, people saw Blaqbonez in the studio video and immediately assumed there was a feature. What was going through your mind watching all of that play out before the song dropped?
I don't know why people thought it was a feature. I really can't control how fans think. Obviously I wanted it to be a proper release and at the time I just wasn't ready to put it out. If you follow me closely, you know I tease music when I don't have music out, just to entertain the fans. It doesn't necessarily mean I want to put it out. FRE$H just happened to demand at the time - I didn't anticipate it. When the time was right, I eventually put it out.
Soweto made a name outside Nigeria - TikTok, UK charts, the remix with Rema and Don Toliver. Did that moment change how you think about who you're making music for?
No. Not at all. Even at the time when I released it, I was still discovering myself, growing a relationship with my audience, knowing what my pocket truly is - because I'm a versatile artist. From Soweto till now, it's still been a learning process for me.
People have a lot of opinions about where Afrobeats is headed right now. What's your take on the state of the sound?
I think it's progressing into something new. With the emergence of so many new artists in this scene right now that are just extremely bold and confident, and even us - household names - finding new pockets and pushing it forward. It's moulding into something beautiful. It's going to be in a state we've never seen it in before. It's not going to be the usual monopoly where it's just Wizkid or Davido or Burna or Rema. Everyone is starting to have their own fan base, which is beautiful to see. The listeners are also having a mind of their own - people are finding their style and sticking to it. I've seen so many new artists with new sounds, in different pockets, growing their communities. This is happening here in Nigeria and this is Afrobeats. I'm curious to see what it moves into, but I'm positive about the results.
Starlife drops August 21. Give us an insight into what the mixtape is actually about - what world are you building with it?
Freedom. Authenticity. I'm actually just having fun. This is one of the projects I took very seriously and at the same time didn't take very seriously. Making sure the sound, the production, my delivery - it's top notch. But it's also very witty and playful. I don't think I've ever been this playful before, this carefree, genuinely enjoying myself. Starlife just shows growth. It shows me fully confident in my own skin. It shows authenticity, maturity, me just talking about the things that I like. It's Victor they haven't seen before.
The Odumodublvck and Blaqbonez beef was one of the biggest conversations in Nigerian hip-hop recently. As someone in the music space, how do you navigate that kind of tension - do you think beef is good or bad for the culture?
To be honest, Odumodublvck and Blaqbonez are two people I know, really nice guys. I think the misunderstanding has just been blown out of proportion and I just hope one day they figure it out. It's between both of them. I know both guys and I think it's a very huge misunderstanding on both ends.
You've worked with artists like Rema, Don Toliver, Asake, Burna Boy and SAINt JHN across your career. At this point, is there anyone you genuinely wish you could get in the studio with, locally or internationally, that hasn't happened yet?
I want to make music with anybody that just does something different. I'm really just experimenting. I don't really have that one person. Obviously I've always wanted to make music with Drake - that's one of my biggest inspirations, so that doesn't change. But I'm also open to diving into different worlds and seeing what comes out of it. Old, young, new. I'm open to collaborating with people that I really like.
Are there any upcoming visuals, tour dates or projects in the pipeline beyond Starlife that people should keep an eye out for?
I have a few shows coming up in the US and Canada. I have Afroplus in September as well. Possibly some headline concerts in Europe and America. For sure, Bonfire this year - that's an annual thing I do. And definitely the project visuals. Just fun times.
What motivates you?
Just feeling purposeful. That's been my biggest motivation right now - truly finding what my purpose is. I feel like one way to do that is utilizing my talents to the max. Every day I go hard, every day I'm creating. I want to find what my purpose truly is. I'm just enjoying the journey and trying to feel purposeful every day.
So bumbum is no longer part of the motivation?
(laughs) We like it though.
As we wrap up, what do you want people to understand about this period of your career that the music alone might not be saying?
I don't think there's anything deep. I feel like people get it and if you don't get it, I don't know. At this moment, it's just vibes.
PS Hitsquad has been making waves in UK drill. His debut album, Life on License, is a body of work that offers deep insight into his life. The 16-track project brings together various elements of his musical influences, not to mention pushing outside of what one would expect from the Drill Rapper.
As somebody who has lived a lot of life and has a lot of stories to tell, the album documents his growth journey and everything that has led him to this moment in his career. He is never one to shy away from the experiences he has been through. Across the album, you can pick up on everything he has to say, and his delivery comes through solidly across the 16 tracks.
With a newly announced tour, he is set to take stages where he will bring the album to life. Before then, we caught up with the rapper to discuss the new album, the process of making it, his artistic journey and more.
You put out your debut album Life on License; how has it felt having that out in the world?
It feels amazing. I always love showing the people what I’ve cooked up, especially because there are so many new sounds/genres on this one compared to others.
When did the process begin for you to start making this album?
It’s been years in the making. I’d even say it’s an illustration from as far back as I can remember up until this point.
Before you put the album out, you had released a few singles before. So in terms of introducing the vibes of the album and setting the tone, how did you want to set that up with those particular singles?
I wanted to show all angles. From ‘Chasing My Grave’ to ‘Popeye’, ‘Dig Em Up’ to ‘Coulda Woulda Shoulda’ I wanted to show the different perspectives around the life I’ve lived while still having fun with it creatively.
How would you describe the sound of the album?
Much like myself, it’s multifaceted. I don’t know if I can narrow it down to just one sound, but I’d describe it as post-drill.
The title of the album is Life on Licence. What does that represent about what the album means?
It means a lot of things. Obviously I’m still on licence, but it’s not just about me being a convict; it’s also about life putting conditions in front of you, whoever you are & it’s ultimately down to you whether you let that stop what you got going on. Also LOL cause you gotta laugh at anyone thinking that’s all it is or will be.
You have always been open about the experiences you have had and gone through and how they relate to your music. In what way do you feel that being open in your music has helped you in terms of your own healing journey?
Music is my therapy. I don’t really talk to people about what’s going on inside, but I’ve always been able to express myself through lyrics.
Was there a particular song on the album that stands out in the process of making the album?
‘Free Your Mind’ ft. Lihtz is one of my personal favourites.
What do you want people to know about you from listening to the album?
There’s a lot more to me than meets the eye.
In terms of your artistry and where you are. How does this album reflect where you are in your creative journey?
I’m trying to flex my creative muscle.
You have been making music a while now. So how do you feel you have grown/changed as a person have grown/changed from when you began your career till now?
I think now I’m more focused on making good music rather than just being the hardest rapper.
You grew up in Peckham. So how do you feel your environment had an impact in terms of your music and creativity?
Growing up in a place like Peckham is not for the weak. Not the greatest socioeconomic environment, so from a young age I saw & did a lot, probably why my lyrics are so graphic.
What can we expect from now that the album is out?
Expect the unexpected.
What are you looking forward to in the next phase of your career?
Enjoying it.
Three days before the release of her third album Starrgirl, Ayra Starr published a Substack where she wrote about the album's meaning, stating that “Starrgirl is a bridge between past and present, tradition and transformation, self and society, accepting complexity and turning it into strength. To exist in multitudes, to unfold endlessly, to shine in countless numbers like STARS in the galaxy.” The entry served to provide context for what the album means to her and the backdrop against which it was derived. The album has come at an interesting point in Ayra Starr’s journey; the time between the creation of The Year I Turned 21 and its follow-up has been marked by many changes in her life, from moving to a new city, life experiences, love, situationships, personal growth and embracing her identity and self-expression. All of which have been present across the album.
Her third album is a moment fans have been waiting for, with a lot of anticipation. Its arrival is a moment for Ayra Starr fans across the world. As you embark on the 16-track journey, there is a rawness and honesty you get that feels much more prominent than in her previous bodies of work. Speaking to her life experiences over the past few years and the life she has been living since The Year I Turned 21, her musical shift is very evident as you listen to the album. As somebody who has never been shy about expressing herself and being confident in who she is as an artist, the presentation feels like a shift from the artist we’ve known since she arrived on the music scene back in 2020.
The album's production is led primarily by Mavin boss Don Jazzy and production duo The Elements, who served as executive producers. As well as additional production contributions from a slew of producers, including the likes of Johnny Drille, Joe Reeves, Skillies, Xize and Stefan Johnson, to name a few. Moving through the 16 tracks, the sonic expansion is very clear beyond the ‘expected’ Ayra Starr sound. From her singles alone, starting with “Gimmie Dat” featuring Wizkid all the way through to “Who’s Dat Gal” with Rema and the latest “Tornado” there is not one sound to describe her album, pulling everything from Afrobeats, R&B, and Pop and stretching her sound to the unexpected. Lyrically, it is very clear that Ayra Starr is not the same girl we met back in 2024. Maintaining that confidence, she takes that to another level as she opens up in a way that is reflective of a young woman who is navigating life as a twenty-something, from sex, love, spirituality, self-identity, and everything in between; she is putting pen to paper with all that she has experienced in the last few years of her life.
The album opens with “Dangerous”, which sets the tone for the energy she embodies as Stargirl and serves as a warning of Ayra’s star power and the energy she is about to bring to the album. Married against the production, which starts quiet in its initial moments before building into something that feels like a soundtrack for a battlefield before Ayra sings the initial words “Starr Girl I don’t play around/When the money that be coming is the right amount/ I’m talking 10 figures for the day I’m out”. Moving into the Kwn-featured “Amazing” brings what you would expect of a Kwn feature, embodying sexual intimacy with a partner in a way that matches Kwn and brings their voices together sonically. In the context of the album, “Tornado” makes sense, whereas it felt a bit misplaced as a single compared to the ones that came before it. Although technically the first official single under the Starrgirl umbrella, it had a lot of different sounds, so identifying its place in the sonic direction felt a bit confusing. “Midnight in New York” plays like a fleeting encounter one might have with a stranger for a night in what feels like something out of a Young Adult Twenty-Something TV show. “Ms Paper”, which features French artist Theodora, feels like an Amaarae-esque track and brings a slightly darker tone with an uptempo vibe, as the two sing about getting money and all that it elicits.
Whilst the majority of the album speaks to the joys and fun, more lighthearted experiences, it is in the later half of the album that we reach greater depth and more personal feelings. The shift comes starting with “Misunderstood”, where she speaks about feelings of being misunderstood and instead embracing one's voice, singing “‘Say what’s on her mind Every time Bottom line” The Zayn Malik-featured ballad presents a softer tone to the album with its piano-led production for the love song. Zayn’s contribution lifts the dual-perspective narrative of a love they both share. Before closing out the album she brings “Treasure” which feels like a testimony to her journey so far and all that she has learned the motivation that has led her to this moment in her career with the words “I do this for myself And the people wey dey follow me for years/I be chaser and I’m headed for the treasure/ Steady W’s cus oil dey my head” the songs fits perfectly in its position on the album as it feels like a celebration of where Ayra is in her life.
Overall, the album feels like the diary and story of a twenty-something girl who is just navigating all that life has to offer and everything in between. For Ayra, the album has clearly documented a special time in her life, and it will most definitely resonate with listeners far and wide. Across 16 tracks, she delivers a body of work that will hold a spot and soundtrack a time in people's lives.
From Diamond Records to New Beats: Jay Sean’s Enduring Legacy and the Release of ‘Body’
When “Down” broke through the airwaves and music channels all around back in 2019, It was the beginning of a fruitful career journey for Jay Sean. The infectious song, which featured a verse from Lil Wayne and reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 and peaked at number three on the UK Single Charts, became the song which broke the British South Asian singer into the mainstream. Now, almost two decades later, Jay is still basking in all that he has been able to achieve so far since then. The song, which was recently certified Diamond by the RIAA in the United States, is one of many milestones he has achieved in his career thus far.
With no signs of slowing down, he is back with his second release of the year, ‘Body’. The Afrobeats-inspired track is made for the end-of-day vibes and continues the slate of new music he has on the horizon. As someone who has always been able to diversify his musical talents, he is still delivering and has no plans to slow down.
Speaking to Jay Sean, we spoke about everything from the legacy of “Down”, the new single, his longevity, maintaining his creativity and everything he has in store for the future.
Hi Jay, Congrats on the release of your new single “Body”. Can you tell us about what inspired this song and how it came about?
I think with this one I just wanted to make something that felt good. I’ve always been drawn to melody and records that make you feel something, but this was really about taking that and putting it over something that makes you want to move. It came together naturally. There wasn’t too much overthinking; it was just about catching a vibe.
The vibe of the song feels great for summer as it is coming to an end. What was the headspace and vibe you were in when making it?
Honestly, exactly that - summer, good energy, being around people you love, being somewhere warm and just enjoying life. I wanted something you could hear at a beach club, in the car, on holiday, wherever - and it instantly puts you in a better mood. Sometimes music doesn’t need to be that complicated!
The song has an Afrobeats feel and vibe. What drew you towards that influence?
I’ve loved what’s been happening with African music for a long time because there’s such an incredible sense of rhythm and melody to it. And those are two things I’ve always naturally gravitated towards in my own music. So it never felt like, “Right, now I’m going to make an Afrobeats record.” It was more about taking those influences and blending them with what I naturally do melodically and as a pop R&B artist.
You’ve already released “All We Know”, and this is the second single we’ve gotten from you this year. What can we expect from the music you’ve been working on?
I think this year I’m deliberately keeping the energy up. All We Know had that Afrohouse energy, and this record continues that feel-good, uptempo direction. I’ve done plenty of heartbreak and slow jams over the years! Right now I’m enjoying making music that makes people want to dance, go out, travel, live a little. So there’s definitely more of that coming.
Your single “Down” went Diamond, which is a significant achievement. As you are now in your career, what does this moment mean for you, and how do you feel about the song as you look back to that particular time when you made the song?
The incredible thing about writing a song is that you never really know its destiny. You can believe in it, you can feel like you’ve made something special, but once you release it into the world, it almost takes on a life of its own. To think back to being in the studio simply trying to write the best song I could, and then see that same record go on to break records, make history and still connect with people all these years later is quite surreal. Those are things you could never plan for or manufacture. I think with experience you learn just how rare those moments are, so more than anything, I look back on it with a huge amount of gratitude.
You’ve always represented South Asian artists in the music space. What has that representation meant to you, and how have you seen it change?
When I started, there really wasn’t a blueprint for someone who looked like me doing mainstream Western pop and R&B. So initially I was trying to get through the door myself. But as my career grew, I realised that every door you open hopefully stays a little wider for the person coming behind you. Now I look at the amount of South Asian talent coming through globally, and it’s amazing. There’s still work to do, but compared to when I started, the conversation has changed massively.
What does being a “cultivator” mean to you and building the career you’ve had?
For me, cultivating something is about building it over time. A career like mine wasn’t one moment or one song - it’s been over 20 years of learning, adapting, taking risks, getting things wrong, getting some things right and continuing to grow. And now part of that is hopefully helping cultivate the next generation too. Success means a lot more when you can use what you’ve learned to help somebody else.
What fuels or inspires your creativity at this current moment?
Life, more than anything. At this stage I’m not chasing what I think I’m supposed to sound like. I’ve been fortunate enough to have already achieved things I never imagined I would, so creatively there’s a freedom in that. If something excites me, I follow it. And weirdly, that freedom has probably made me more creative than ever.
How has your process and outlook on creativity shifted throughout the years?
I think I trust my instincts much more now. When you’re younger, you can get caught up in what’s happening, what radio wants, what the industry wants, what everyone else is doing. These days I know myself as an artist much better. If it feels good, I trust that.
You went on tour in 2024. How did that experience feel compared to previous tours?
I’m constantly doing shows - I tend to keep them to weekends now wherever I can. At this stage of my life, I prefer not to spend months away from my family. I absolutely love performing, and that will always be a huge part of who I am, but I also want to be present as a dad. My kids are growing up ridiculously fast, and these are precious years that you don’t get back. So it’s really about finding that balance - I still get to travel the world and perform, which is my favourite part of what I do, but hopefully without missing too much of what matters most at home.
After all these years, what is still your favourite part of making music?
That moment when you know you’ve got something. You can be sitting in a studio with absolutely nothing, and a few hours later there’s a song that didn’t exist before. After all these years, that still feels like magic to me. And then eventually hearing thousands of people sing something back to you that started as an idea in your head; I don’t think that ever gets old.
What would you say has been a highlight moment in your career?
There have been so many moments I’m grateful for, but performing at Madison Square Garden will always be up there. Growing up in Britain, you hear about these iconic American venues, and MSG is almost mythical. So to come from where I came from, cross the Atlantic and eventually stand on that stage performing my own music was one of those moments where I genuinely thought, “How did I end up here?” That one will always stay with me.
You’ve got some exciting things coming up. What can you tell us about them?
A lot is happening. Obviously, there’s more music coming, and I’m really enjoying this new run of records and the sound I’m exploring. But I’m also developing some things outside of music that I’m really excited about -particularly in the TV and podcast space. I’ve spent most of my life telling stories through three-minute songs, so I’m enjoying finding completely different ways to tell stories now too.
At this stage in your career, what does this particular time feel like and what are you most excited about?
It feels like a really nice chapter because I’m not trying to prove anything anymore. I’m incredibly proud of what I’ve achieved, but I’m also still hungry creatively- just in a different way. I get to make music because I genuinely love making music, explore new ideas, help other artists and still walk onstage and do what I’ve loved doing for over 20 years. There’s a freedom in this stage of the journey that I’m really enjoying.
Stream darkest secrets / CHAKAM Here
Genre-fusion DJ and cultural tastemaker Uncle Bubu steps into a defining new chapter with the release of his explosive two-pack darkest secrets / CHAKAM, featuring two of the hottest young voices shaping African music right now: Kemuel and Cupidszn. The project captures the energy of a new generation pushing Afrobeats and alternative African sounds into exciting new territory.
Across the two records, Uncle Bubu showcases his ability to merge worlds, blending emotion, rhythm, youth culture and global influences into a cohesive sonic experience.
Produced by acclaimed hitmaker Telz, darkest secrets delivers a smooth and intoxicating Latin-inspired vibe layered with emotional melodies, atmospheric production and undeniable chemistry between the artists. Sensual and immersive, the record feels both intimate and global, balancing vulnerability with rhythm in a way that feels refreshing within today’s Afrobeats landscape.
On the other side, CHAKAM, produced by Bill Fyre, bursts with youthful Gen Z energy. Infectious, carefree and charismatic, the record captures the spirit of young African creatives shaping culture in real time. With playful melodies, vibrant production and magnetic performances, CHAKAM feels built for parties, festivals and viral moments alike.
The release arrives at a pivotal cultural moment for African music, bringing together a powerful mix of emerging voices already making serious waves across the industry. Cupidszn continues to rise as one of the most exciting new talents signed to Mavin Records, while Kemuel has established himself as one of the standout voices of the new generation through collaborations with major names including Wizkid, Spinall, Olamide, DJ Tunez and more.
Known for his genre-bending mixes, cultural influence and ability to connect communities through music, Uncle Bubu has steadily built a reputation as one of the most exciting young DJs and curators emerging from Lagos’ new creative scene. With darkest secrets / CHAKAM, he now takes a major step forward artistically, delivering a release that feels youthful, global and deeply connected to the culture.
More than just a two-pack, darkest secrets / CHAKAM is a snapshot of where African music is headed next, driven by fearless collaboration, genre experimentation, and a new generation of creatives building movements from the ground up.
For more information on Uncle Bubu, please visit:
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It’s 2026 and the average tune booming in the playlists that define Lagos’ nightlife circuits is no longer the usual pop-frenzy. Nowadays, it’s a lot of sounds, including soul.
After nearly a decade of chasing raspier beats and hypermelodic grooves, Nigerian artists are now making room for sounds that favor mood, storytelling and experimentation, creating alternatives to the familiar formulas that have defined the country’s global pop moment.
This means only one thing: listeners have more ways to discover music, and artists have more ways to reach them.
Part of that consumer behaviour shift is technological. TikTok has become a discovery tool for music, while Spotify and Apple Music allow artists to reach listeners directly without relying entirely on radio or major-label machinery.
In fact, since Spotify launched in Nigeria in 2021, the number of Nigerian artists on the platform has more than doubled, while R&B streams have grown more than twenty-sevenfold. Nigerian listeners have also created over 25 million playlists.
Now, it’s glaring that with more accessible production and distribution tools, emerging artists can create, package and release music with fewer traditional gatekeepers. Basically, they no longer have to make a club hit first to find an audience.
Withloveru._ is one example of the sound taking shape in that space. Her music centres on love, uncertainty and the messier parts of relationships, with songs that leave room for her vocals and songwriting to carry the weight. Her just-released debut Silk EP offers a glimpse into that approach, while her other earlier releases this year, including “Woman” and “I Think I Love You 2” featuring Magixx, have continued to build on it.
Another artist working with a similarly soulful pace is Demi Mulla. His 2026 releases, “Distance” and “Pretty Girl Summer (Birthday),” lean into atmosphere and emotion rather than chasing a formula built around immediate impact. His music fits into a growing space for Nigerian artists whose appeal comes as much from the world they create around a song as from its potential to become a hit.
The soulful troubadour Tiimie takes another route, blending contemporary Nigerian rhythms with softer songwriting and alternative influences. His 2.5g EP arrived in March 2026, followed by “Iworiwo”, Nakanamo ft Niphkeys” and “Fish Pond” in April. His growing catalogue shows how artists can remain connected to the sounds around them while making space for vulnerability, restraint and experimentation.
However, the new wave is not defined by quiet music alone. Ema Onigah represents a more expansive approach, moving through different influences while placing musicianship and storytelling at the centre of her work. His 2026 project ITEM VII and releases such as “Many People” demonstrate an artist more interested in building his own musical vocabulary than staying within one established formula.
Another force majeure in this new shift is Strei. The young bard pushes that experimentation into darker territory. His seven-track NIGHT EP, released in May, includes “Anxiety,” “Sugar,” “Surplus” and “Obobe,” while “Catapult” adds to his 2026 output. His music brings a sharper edge to the conversation, showing that the alternative space can accommodate rap, darker production and emotionally charged writing without needing to sound like mainstream Afrobeats.
Meanwhile, the softer-toned Taves shows that experimentation does not always have to happen outside Afrobeats. His music brings together familiar Nigerian rhythms with guitars, percussion and more direct songwriting. His 2026 releases, including “Simone,” “Bad & Boujee” featuring Shoday and “Pressure” with Show Dem Camp, demonstrate how organic textures and contemporary Nigerian pop can exist in the same space.
Elsewhere, NELLO MXL and Serøtonin are taking the idea of genre fluidity even further. NELLO MXL’s 2026 releases, including “Melodian” and CURRENTS, continue his movement between melodic songwriting and Nigerian-influenced sounds.
Lastly, Serøtonin, on the other hand, has built a more unconventional musical identity around Afrofusion, folk influences, ambient textures and elements of Nigerian oral tradition. His work resists easy categorisation, making him another example of how far outside conventional pop structures some emerging artists are willing to go.
Overall, what connects these artists is not a single genre, tempo or aesthetic. It is the willingness to experiment with what Afrobeat can feel like.
As Afrobeat continues to dominate globally, Nigerian artists are increasingly treating genre as a starting point rather than a boundary. As a result, there’s a boom in Afro-fusion, where genres like R&B can borrow from Afrobeat, Rap leaning into soul, and pop can make room for experimentation. The quieter wave may not always command the loudest conversation, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. And for all the right reasons.
Ravyn Lenae’s Blue Island begins with the single ‘Handle”, the second single from the album. Ushering in the album, it signals a shift from her previous album, Birds Eye, and once again shows her ability to infuse several genres into her musical palette. From then on, she continues to showcase not only the sonically expansive music styles present on the album, but also brings her signature vocal and ethereal tone to the project.
From top to bottom, the album plays flawlessly. Moving between genres of indie rock, funk, R&B, soul and psychedelic rock. Everything she brings across the 14 tracks melds together and becomes something that sounds authentically hers. Across her career, Ravyn has never been an artist who is trying to chase a moment or follow a trend; instead, she has developed her own musical style in a way that is unique to her. She is somebody who has been able to take the space and room to create something that continues to showcase her strength as an artist going from album to album.
Moments on the album that stand out include “Familiar Dreams”, which has a nostalgic feel to it as she sings about reconnecting with an old flame after a long period of time. The feeling brings a somewhat whimsical feel to the song and an aspect of remembrance. “Never Let Me Go”, which follows immediately after, feels like the alternative R&B sound that people will be familiar with. The song ends with a voicemail from her grandfather and adds a special touch to the song's essence. “Potential”, the lead single that ushered in this new era for Ravyn, also shines in the context of the album with her melodies that come into a distortion of sounds and create a different sonic that one might have been expecting from start to finish. With this being one of the two lead singles, it very much displayed how this would be introducing a different soundscape for Ravyn. Further down, another standout moment on the album is “Babygirl”, which includes vocals from Doechii, someone who is no stranger to collaborating with Ravyn on the Xtsay remix back in 2022. This time around, the two opt for something much gentler than one may have expected, with both giving a soft, melodic vibe to the song that speaks to confidence and self-empowerment for girls.
Overall, the album really showcases Ravyn's freedom of creation and not being forced to subscribe to what others may expect of her, especially following the success of “Love Me Not”. Ultimately, she is following her own bliss and showcasing her ability to genre-blend and discover more within her artistry that others may have confined her to. Blue Island delivers a refreshing sound and body of work and delivers on the mission she set out for it.
In 2021, Ayra Starr released 'Bloody Samaritan' and made it immediately clear that she was not interested in being palatable - she was 19 years old, already fully formed in her attitude and her sound, and the record announced both things at once without apology.
Born Oyinkansola Sarah Aderibigbe, she signed to Mavin Records in 2020 and released her self-titled debut EP in January 2021 before 19 & Dangerous arrived in August of that same year - a debut album whose title captured exactly the energy she brought to every stage she walked onto during that period. The project established not just a voice but a specific kind of fearlessness that has remained the most consistent thing about her across every project since.
The Year I Turned 21 followed in May 2024, her second studio album and the project that expanded both her sound and her reach significantly. 'Gimme Dat' with Wizkid earned a Grammy nomination. 'Who's Dat Girl' with Rema, released in October 2025 as her first official collaboration with him, asked the question this piece is trying to answer. In July 2025, she signed a management deal with Roc Nation while remaining at Mavin for recording - a positioning that placed her within two of the most powerful music infrastructures in the world simultaneously, and one that reflected the kind of long-term career thinking that has quietly distinguished her from many of her contemporaries.
What makes Ayra Starr particularly compelling beyond the music is how genuinely she loves the journey - the process of making records, building sonic worlds, finding collaborators who stretch her. She has spoken consistently about music not as a destination but as an ongoing creative practice, and that enthusiasm shows up in the range of what she has said yes to: Wizkid, Rema, Angélique Kidjo, FOLA, NPR Tiny Desk, The Jennifer Hudson Show. The breadcrumbs leading to Starrgirl have been buttery and deliberate - 'Where Do We Go' in March 2026, an Afropop and electronic track about a hidden romantic relationship released on Women's History Month; 'Tornado' with FOLA in June, Latin-percussion-inflected Afrobeats produced by Skillies, Shizzi and RiotUSA, premiered live at NPR Tiny Desk before its official June 12 release; a feature on Angélique Kidjo's 'Aye Kan (Are You Coming Back)' in March. She has covered significant ground this year before the album has even arrived.
Then came the album cover - a purple gele, a nod to her Yoruba roots, shot by Paris-based photographer Axle Jozeph with creative direction by Peter Famosa, Richie Igunma and Ola Badmus. The image landed quietly and then everywhere at once - not a viral explosion but a slow, sustained wave of responses that kept building. Within days it had spawned animations, paintings, reimagined concepts, a purple star filter, a Starrgirl game, and young Nigerian men wearing geles in solidarity in lecture halls, opening a conversation about expressive masculinity that the cover had not explicitly invited but clearly made possible. The campaign has been placed alongside Rema's HEIS as one of the strongest pre-release moments in modern Afrobeats - a comparison that speaks to how deliberately the visual identity of Starrgirl was constructed.
On July 30, Ayra revealed via Instagram Story that she had undergone major surgery a few days prior, more complicated in its recovery than she had anticipated. She did not disclose the nature of the procedure, and the silence was enough for the internet to begin filling in the blanks - the speculation arrived quickly, as it tends to when a young woman in the public eye has a medical procedure and declines to explain it. She addressed none of it. From her hospital bed, she asked her Mobstarrs to pre-order Starrgirl, started an 11-day countdown to the album, and assured everyone she simply needed rest before returning.
Starrgirl is 16 tracks spanning Afrobeats, R&B, alternative R&B and dancehall, with confirmed features including Wizkid and Rema. She has described the album as being about existing in multitudes - a broader creative statement than the age-and-numbers concept that gave her first two projects their structure. The purple gele on the cover places her Yoruba identity at the centre of her most globally ambitious project to date, The purple gele on the cover places her Yoruba identity at the centre of her most globally ambitious project to date, and it is a choice that feels entirely natural given how consistently she has moved through both worlds - the local and the international, without treating them as opposites. Starrgirl drops August 14.
For three days last weekend, Montreal’s Parc Jean-Drapeau was overrun with fans from across Canada and beyond to attend the 19th edition of Osheaga. The lineup varied widely in terms of genre and notoriety, but Canadian artists were notably prioritized. This year, DEEDS attended for the first time, and we had a lovely time!
In order of appearance, here are the Osheaga sets that transformed our festival experience.
If there’s one thing PARTYOF2 are going to do, it’s immerse the viewer in their world and throw a great party. It’s clear in everything from their music videos all the way to their stage performances. With coordinated fits and choreography, Jadagrace and SWIM took us through their budding discography, including the TikTok-viral hit, “POSER”. They’ve had a whirlwind last couple of years with the exit of band member TJOnline, and the release of debut album, AMERIKA’S NEXT TOP PARTY! but you wouldn’t know it by the way they performed. The earnest resilience that’s laced through all their songs makes it hard not to root for them, plus they give a great show!
Ten years since her last performance at Osheaga, Little Simz returned to a bigger stage and a truly excited crowd. Even before the show started, I could tell the competition to be in front was getting serious. With the coolest-looking band members I’d seen all festival, Little Simz gave us a multilayered set - part rap performance, part DJ set, all party. Unlike some artists at the festival, she didn’t rely on any backing tracks even for her denser verses. As Little Simz performed a litany of her hits including “Point & Kill” and viral feminist anthem “Venom”, you could tell she was having so much fun - that made two of us.
The 21-year-old dark pop artist may still be early in her career, but her performances are already must-see spectacles - just ask Taylor Swift and Florence + the Machine, two major artists she’s opened for. At the Osheaga Scotia Forest stage, Sofia Isella emerged to much fanfare, covered in grime from head to toe, with emphasized dark circles and hair hanging loose. A woman possessed, the multi-instrumentalist enthusiastically performed many of her hits, including “Out in the Garden”, TikTok favourite “Hot Gum,” and “The Chicken is Naked and Afraid,” which was featured on the COLORS Show. It’s impossible not to feel the angst that fills her songs; Isella has shared that her music is her way of portraying the “gore of womanhood,” and boy, was this performance gory (in the best way possible).
Zara Larsson’s performances have gone viral many a time, but the real thing is still hard to beat. Hours before her set, the Bell River stage was packed with fans eager to see the headliner, wearing various shades of pink, orange, and florals. As we chanted her name, the pop singer arrived, opening with mega hit “Midnight Sun”. The crowd went wild and stayed that way throughout her performance. Memorable moments include her performance of “Symphony”, “Ain’t My Fault,” and of course, “Lush Life”, complete with the official dance. To perform the latter, she called on a young fan named Olivia who gave it her all. That heartfelt moment has already captured hearts beyond the festival through social media. Zara Larsson has already had a stellar couple of years, but I have a feeling this is just the beginning.
There’s something so romantic about ending the festival with Lorde in the rain. Fans online even hoped the forecast would stay gloomy so they could have a repeat of the last time she performed at Osheaga ten years ago. Her return was much anticipated, and in return, she gave us her all. Her performance was so visceral; she never stopped moving, and she clearly felt every word. When delivering the show, Lorde’s dancers and stage techs successfully found a balance between performance art and a rave. The crowd was also extra loud when she played classics like “Liability”, “Supercut”, “Greenlight”, “Team”, “The Louvre” and her verse on Charli XCX’s “Girl, so confusing”. Before her set ended, she made sure to thank us many times for coming, and even said, “I think this is one of the coolest festivals in the world…I love Osheaga.” We love you too, Lorde!
In 2020, Rema told Dazed he posts what people need to see, not what they want to see. He said it in passing, in the context of not sharing photos with 2 Chainz - the opulence would have felt wrong for where he was then. Six years on, that same instinct is behind a Spider-Man themed cinema experience, a third studio album confirmed complete, and a title delivered not as an announcement but as a riddle. The philosophy is unchanged. The world it is operating in has grown considerably.
The aesthetic Rema occupies now did not arrive suddenly. His debut EP covers in 2019 and 2020 already carried it - colourful dystopian imagery, UFOs, figures falling from the sky, a futurist visual language that was specific and deliberate before most people were paying the kind of attention that would have noticed. The tension between euphoria and something darker was present in the music from early on. 'Rave & Roses' named it. 'HEIS' chose a side. The wardrobe shifted, the sound shifted, the smoking entered the visual language, and what settled was a persona that has held consistently across every appearance since. On his Instagram broadcast channel, he reposts fan artwork of himself - paintings, illustrations, graphic interpretations of his image - alongside his own photography. The visual world is collaborative in that specific way:
Rema establishes the aesthetic, his audience extends it, he acknowledges what they build. The conversation is ongoing and deliberate.
The rollout for the third album is a continuation of that conversation. A select group of fans at a cinema, an album confirmed complete, a puzzle distributed across social media with a window to solve it - the internet settled quickly on a verdict. Gimmick. The word gets applied most reliably when engagement is required rather than just consumption. Nigerian music rollouts have largely operated on directness: a single, a cover, a date, a drop. An artist who withholds, who builds mystery, who asks the audience to work, produces friction inside that expectation. The friction is called a gimmick. The actual gimmick would be an artist doing all of this with nothing underneath it. 'HEIS' exists. The body of work exists. The visual consistency exists. The riddle connects to something real.
The London listening party on August 7 added another layer to the rollout. An exclusive gathering that drew Odeal and Stonebwoy alongside industry leaders, the event gave a select room an early taste of 'Tea' alongside several unreleased tracks from the third album. Before playing the new music, Rema addressed the room directly: "I'm gonna play some new music, you gotta promise me it won't go out. If it goes out it cannot drop, I don't drop sh*t that's leaked."
The album has no confirmed title or release date yet. The listening party made clear it exists and is close.
'Tea' - produced by Mustard and his longtime collaborator London - is his first solo release of the year, arriving after a run of international collaborations including Don Toliver's 'Secondhand', which peaked at number 29 on the Billboard Hot 100, and 'Goals' with LISA and Anitta at the FIFA World Cup 2026 opening ceremony. When he posted the cover art - a close-cropped, surreal image with gold lips and the title in bold pink - he added two words: "no AI." In a moment where AI-generated artwork has become a recurring conversation in music, the clarification was deliberate. The single does not resolve the mystery of what comes next. It begins the musical argument the project will eventually complete.
What has been consistent across six years and three albums is the sense that Rema is building something with an internal logic, and that the rollout is part of the build rather than separate from it. The gimmick debate is, in part, a delayed response to that - the recognition that something deliberate has been happening, met with the suspicion that deliberateness is performance.
Energy, energy, energy.
When I tell you, it felt like a total Nigerian explosion in the heart of New York City! From the moment you stepped into the Amber Room, the atmosphere hit you immediately it felt just like home. Between the pulsating crowd, the curated Martell cocktails (like the Nigerian Swift Sour and Martarita), and an unmatchable warmth in the air, the night was pure magic.
The fashion throughout the room was an absolute headline in itself. Attendees stepped out in their absolute best a masterclass in playfulness with bold patterns, rich textures, layered jewelry, and striking statements in their hair. Yet, standing at the center of it all, Davido embodied pure royalty. Wearing a sleek off-white suit topped with a golden crown, his look commanded the room while setting the perfect tone for his much-anticipated sixth studio album, ORIADÉ.
Organic, Unscripted, and Pure Family
At most major industry events, there’s usually a dramatic, stuffy ritual: the music stops, a booming voice announces "the man of the hour is here," and a grand, rigid entrance breaks the vibe. Here, it was completely different. When Davido walked in, everything felt intentional and effortless. There were no rehearsed spectacles or forced announcements just him moving naturally through the room, hugging his friends, greeting people like family, and sharing genuine laughs. It removed all the typical industry pretense and turned the night into one massive, loving family gathering alongside his wife Chioma, DJ ECool, manager Asa Asika, and close community.
What stood out most was the undeniable sense of presence and real connection. Sure, the phones came out for a brief minute at the very beginning when Davido took the mic to introduce the music. But once the sound kicked in, something rare happened: the screens went down. Instead of recording every single track through a lens, people chose to actually experience the album in real time. In a culture often obsessed with capturing content, this generation is quietly shifting back to what truly matters embracing authenticity, seizing the moment, and grounding themselves in community. That intentionality was palpable throughout the room.
The album itself is consistent energy and non-stop vibe from start to finish. Exploring themes of legacy, destiny, and his 15-year journey in music, ORIADÉ is a powerhouse 13-track body of work that hits all the right notes. Davido seamlessly bridges the global diaspora across the project, bringing along an impressive roster of collaborators including Black Sherif, JAZZWRLD, GL_Ceejay, NO11, Mayorkun, FOLA, Leon Thomas, Aya Nakamura, and Llona.
Davido is simply one of those rare artists whose music touches your heart. The way he consistently sings about love with that signature raspy vocal style is unmatched, and experiencing these highlights live was something special:
“On the Road”: The opener sets the perfect tone smooth, grounded, and introspective. Davido reflects on his lifestyle and where he’s at, but reminds us that life is so much deeper; it was relentless hard work and diligence that brought him to this exact moment.
“Amazing Grace” (feat. Black Sherif): Fast-forward to the second track, which already feels like a future 2027 hit wedding anthem. The peak of the night arrived when Black Sherif made a surprise appearance on stage to perform it alongside Davido, sending shockwaves of energy through the room.
“Gimme Dat Ting”: The minute this track dropped, staying still was non-negotiable. I felt it straight in my soul first my hips started moving, then my hands, and then my feet. It completely took over, forcing everyone in the room to just vibe.
“Tell Me” (feat. Leon Thomas): Their voices complement each other so seamlessly it puts you into a trance. Listening to it transports you straight to the middle of an island dance floor surrounded by people catching a vibe, enjoying life, and living in the moment.
Unforgettable Night, Unmatched Spirit
Watching the room vibe out together, with genuine smiles radiating across every face, truly encapsulated the unifying power of Afrobeats. As DJ ECool took over the decks and Davido took the mic to sing along, it became an intimate, unforgettable first look into the world of ORIADÉ a night that felt distinctly like Lagos, beautifully reimagined through a New York lens.
In a world that often feels heavy and chaotic, ORIADÉ is a reminder of what music is supposed to do: make you feel good, bring people together, and let you lose yourself in the movement. It’s more than just a 13-track project it’s an invitation to step into Davido’s world, reconnect with joy, and feel the energy for yourself. Press play on ORIADÉ on all streaming platforms today and be a part of the experience.
Photography credit: Emmanuel Agbeble, apmworldmag.
Davido released his sixth studio album, ORIADÉ, on July 31, 2026 - a date chosen deliberately to mark exactly 15 years since he launched his professional music career.
The 13-track project is his shortest to date, a focused body of work that follows 5ive, which peaked at number two on the Billboard World Albums chart in 2025. The album title is derived from the Yoruba words ori (destiny) and adé (crown), translating to "the crowned head." When Davido announced the project in June, he captioned the cinematic teaser - in which he appeared in regal Yoruba attire soundtracked by a Yoruba eulogy - with: "The kingdom expands. Chosen long before the throne."
The tracklist brings together a carefully selected lineup of African and international collaborators. 'Amazing Grace' features Black Sherif, 'B4 B4' features Mayorkun and FOLA, 'Tell Everybody' features Leon Thomas, 'Yaya' features Aya Nakamura, and 'My Light' features Llona. JAZZWRLD and GL Ceejay appear on the lead single 'I Know Who I Be', while No11 features on 'Gimme Dat Ting'. The remaining tracks - 'On The Road', 'Julie', 'Constantly', 'Already Falling', 'Zanzibar' and 'Guide' - round out the project.
Ahead of the album's release, Davido hosted two listening events for close friends, collaborators and industry figures. The first took place in Lagos, sponsored by Martell, Ajoje and The Plug - an intimate gathering that gave attendees an early experience of the full project. The second followed in New York City at the Amber Room on July 31, presented by Martell, where Davido's wife Chioma, manager Asa Asika and longtime collaborator DJ ECool were among those present. ECool played the album in its entirety before Davido joined him on stage to perform selections from the record. Black Sherif made a surprise appearance to perform 'Amazing Grace' live - one of the evening's standout moments.
In a recent interview ahead of the release, Davido described ORIADÉ as a return to his "original high-energy African sound," recorded over two years while balancing an extensive international touring schedule. The album is set to be performed live for the first time at an exclusive show at the O2 Forum Kentish Town in London on August 11, with a wider world tour expected to follow.
ORIADÉ is out now on all streaming platforms.
IG: @sophiannadozie
This Friday marks DEEDS’ first time at Osheaga. The 20 year old music festival takes place every summer at Parc Jean-Drapeau in Montreal, Quebec. The multi-day event has hosted the likes of SZA, Childish Gambino, Travis Scott, and more. It is one of the biggest music festivals in Canada.
This year’s lineup at Osheaga is stacked with heavy hitters including Lord, Gunna, Zara Larsson and Tate McRae. But amidst this lineup lies various amazing Black Canadian acts that we can’t wait to see in action.
Raised in South Africa but now based in Edmonton, the dark-R&B crooner caught our attention with his sultry, entrancing melodies and smooth vocals. The release of his debut album, Mirage, last year, definitely established him as one of the most exciting R&B acts out right now. We can’t wait to see how he translates his music onto the stage!
Ain’t no party like a BAMBII party (if you know, you know). The Toronto-raised, Jamaican DJ and producer captivates every stage she graces with her unique blend of electronic genres and dancehall. She also made her mark this year after featuring alongside Madison Beer on Zara Larsson’s deluxe album, Midnight Sun: Girls Trip. We can’t wait to move with her!
Known for his vivid storytelling and vulnerable lyricism, the Brazilian-born, Montreal-raised artist builds lush soundscapes across pop and R&B. With a falsetto that just won’t quit, Fernie seamlessly transforms painful experiences into beauty through his music. We can’t wait to be serenaded by him!
The easiest thing to do with Siraheem is not listen. Son of Chief Razaq Okoya, billionaire industrialist and founder of the Eleganza Group, he arrived in the Nigerian music industry carrying a last name that preceded every opinion about him. The naira abuse scandal. The bowling centre charges $5,000 membership. The "nepo baby" label that followed him from comment section to comment section. By the time 'Bad Bitch Syndrome' went viral in 2024, the internet had already decided what Siraheem was - a rich kid playing musician, backed by money that made the playing field anything but level.
Then he sat in front of a Glitch Africa microphone and performed 'Iseoluwa', 'Soweto', 'Kowope' and 'Brazil Bounce' without the armour of production, without a crowd to feed off, without anything between the voice and the listener. Eight days later, Twitter is still processing it.
The reactions have a specific texture - not the usual "this is good" but something closer to recalibration. People who had dismissed him are going back to 'By the Order of the City', the debut EP he released May 1, 2026, hearing it differently now that they have heard him sing directly. The performance did not introduce a new Siraheem. It created the conditions for people to actually hear the one that was already there.
This is what Glitch Africa does at its best. The platform strips the music back to its most honest form - no production armour, no engineered atmosphere, just the voice and the song. Asake's 'Baba God' session is the clearest precedent in recent memory - a live performance that revealed something about his vocal control and emotional range that the studio version had almost obscured. Siraheem's session is doing the same kind of work. The surprise in the comment sections is not that he has suddenly become something he wasn't. It is that the version of him that already existed has finally been seen.
'Soweto' live is a different thing entirely. The line that opens the EP - "me I'm not from ghetto but na me dey run your ghetto" - lands harder without the beat carrying it. 'Iseoluwa' is the track that does the most work live. The vocal control exists on the studio version but stripped of production it becomes harder to argue with - you hear it differently when there is nothing else to credit. 'Kowope' and 'Brazil Bounce' confirmed that the range across the EP was not a producer's doing. He moves between sounds and stays himself throughout.
The people who decided Siraheem should not be making music have too much invested in that conclusion to let a Glitch Africa session change it entirely. The noise around this man is considerable and it does not dissolve overnight. What the performance did is something more specific - it gave the people who were willing to listen a reason to do so, and it is sending them back to the EP with ears that are no longer filtered through the label that preceded him.
IG: @sophiannadozie
LADIPOE has been making the case for technical rap in Nigerian music for over a decade - patiently, consistently, and without compromising the craft that defines him. Born Ladipo Eso, he studied Biology and Chemistry at the University of North Carolina before returning to Lagos to pursue music, a decision that surprised people then and continues to inform his work now. His debut album T.A.P (Talk About Poe) established him as one of the most lyrically rigorous voices in Afrobeats' ecosystem. Revival, his sophomore project, deepens that argument - a Pan-African record that pulls collaborators from Nigeria, South Africa, the UK and the US, and opens with a voice note from his mother. We spoke about craft, conviction, and what it actually takes to lead a revival.
I'm Ladipoe, the leader of the revival, and I write lifelines.
It wasn't a single decision. It's something that happened over time. You know, I got my degree. I also went and got a job and eventually I did come back to Nigeria and also got a job here too. So I was doing that while also pursuing musical aspirations. And over time, you know I went back to school again, came back, and I eventually made the choice to choose one over the other. But pretty much all the while I was pursuing music, I was working. When I decided to choose between the two was when I got signed, because I now felt at this point in time, I had to do it professionally. I had to do it just only music if I wanted to, like, take advantage of being a side artist. That's the first time I made that decision where it was only music that I was doing, so it wasn't a quick decision. It's just that my creative life started to become the main part of my life over time.
I think my revival is not about the genres, not even about the music. It's itself. It's about self. It's about identity. It's about who you are as a person and who you need to become to do the things in life that you are meant to do. And for me, I'm in music, so it's more about self, not about hip hop, not about Afrobeats, not about Nigerian music per se. It's about the person.
It's because believing that the value of this thing is not based on its popularity, maybe that's not the accurate thing to say. Think of what I want to say. I think that people ask this question that you're asking because, you know, they feel like there's some kind of competition because people like that, you know, you can only choose one. Because people like…What did you say? Melody and what was it?
Melodies and hooks over bars. Maybe people ask this question because they feel like if people like that, it means they don't like bars, you know, or lyrics. And by bars, what they are just talking about is like lyrics and things that have meaning, punchlines and stuff like that and wordplay. But I think because I don't see it in black and white, I feel like this is an audience that likes many, many things. And they have wild taste and they're really smart, you know, and there's people who are seeking things, that want things just like me. And when you really think about it, because I feel like I like what I like and I'm probably not the only one. I'm not the only one just like me who likes these things, because I really believe that. That's why I know that it's. That's how I navigate it. Because I know that there's other people that like this stuff out there in the world. Sophia there’s almost 300 million people in Nigeria. If a lot of them like hooks and choruses, melody, there's still how many millions that would like, you know what else is out there? At the end of the day, we are not eating rice every day? You know, everybody likes different things.
You know, it was, I'd say it was intentional. It was mainly organic. It really happened organically. And I think the reason why it has a Pan African feel is because that's the nature of my life and my career. Music has kind of taken me beyond the shores of my country and as a result, I'm meeting people from different spaces now and just reflecting on my music. So it was kind of. It was organic, but at the same time, even me, I only realized it maybe like a few months before we dropped the album, like everybody's from different places, you know. But yeah, I think it's more of a true reflection of where my music is at and where it has taken me as opposed to. Hey, man, I had to make sure that they know that it's Pan African.
But yeah, this time was organic.
You said, what excites me about growing. Right. I think it's always been there. I actually think these connections have always been there. Even before our own contemporary music industry, dating back to the artists that came before us. I think they've always had these collaborations with their brothers and sisters in different African countries. And I think what excites me is that it's still alive. If anything, I don't just think it's growing. I think it's always been there and it's still alive. And I'm happy to contribute my own songs into these connections. Long established connections, you know, the relationship musically between Africa, I mean, Nigeria and South Africa is deep. Everybody knows this, you know, so this is me adding another one to it, you know. And between Nigeria and Ghana, everybody knows. I mean, I think what excites me is one, that they're still alive and two, there's more that we can bring in to make the show. Connecting now with new places, I think will be even more. That'll be exciting to me. Places that people are not used to seeing, you know? Yeah, that could be interesting.
It's such a groovy song. What I've noticed is that now that the album is out, you know, before people heard it as a single, but now they're hearing it inside the album with other tracks. And I think they're appreciating it even more because after many people, they don't even know when their waist is starting to move, when Motho Waka's bass line comes inside.
They found each other. I'd had this message, you know, like, I see people joking online. Anybody that sends Ladipoe voice note is in trouble, they're going to be looking for their voice on the album. But It really isn't like that. And I know rappers have a reputation of doing that, you know, but for me, it was a message I'd always kept with me when. When she sent it, I had kept it with me because it felt important for my own spirit. And it just made sense for a song that talked about being chosen to let you know. Sophia, when you're making music, there's the music, there's the lyrics. I'm always seeking to find more ways to bring you into my world until there's layers to it. So this message and voice from somebody else is another way of letting people understand how I know I'm chosen.
Exactly. And, you know, the biggest thing now is if, let's say you're listening to it and it makes you feel chosen, ah! Something powerful is really happening, you know, and I think that's really the biggest part of it. And the most amazing part of music is the fact that somebody can own this song in a way where they're not thinking about me, thinking about themselves.
I mean, has it changed? I don't think it's changed things. It added to it. It added more of a perspective of the world. To my music. I just wasn't capable of seeing before, you know. I care about my son in a very specific way that I don't know if you can feel that way, unless you actually do have. I'm sure there's ways you can feel something similar. It opens up a whole new way of thinking about the world and thinking about what is important in the world, you know? So, yes. It added to my music.
I hear that a lot. But yeah, life happens, right? Life is happening to people. The songs that you like and, you know, between this article you write and the next article you write, stuff happens, right? Yeah, you know, exactly.
I think that now, you asked this question last time and I said all the things that it really does take. You need to have an unshakable vision. You need to have a team that sees that vision. You have to have a direction that you know you guys are going and alignments. All of those kind of things are true. And. But even before that, you need to have a mindset that has never asked this question that you're asking me. Like, you should not need to ask yourself, what do I need to do? How do I need to be? To be global. You are that already. All it's missing is maybe visibility by default.
You already have what it takes to be an artist. I mean, there's certain artists that I think cross the threshold of being gifted. And it's like, you already have what it takes to be on a global stage. What you're missing is visibility. And I say that because before the thinking was, I can't even imagine how it would be if I knew so I was on the level of Drake or these things are like, because we couldn't when we're younger. We couldn't see how it was possible. That's a kind of thinking that doesn't even need to exist anymore. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't really think about the idea of being global. I think more of how far can I push my music? And I know that my music belongs in every room. Yeah, I know that. Like, I already know that. I already know I can walk into that room. I fit in those settings. I already know that. I don't think to myself, how do I need to balance authenticity? I already know. I came prepared for that. So it's like, the only way to do that is to know the music you make as an artist, keep making that music and pushing it as far as it can go. Period. There's nothing like going global. Like, you push as far as you can go. When you're in that space, you'll know what to do. I don't know. I feel like I haven't answered it in a way that you can fully. I fully understand what I'm trying to say, but I just know that I don't ask myself this question.
Yes, exactly. I don't exactly. I don't know how we're gonna translate it in a way that they can get it, But I feel like for an artist to stay authentic and be global, they should not have to ask themselves, how do I go global? They just need to be authentic and push it as far as they can go and connect the dots where they can. If you know where you want to go, you're always aiming for that direction.
But you don't have to change a single thing about yourself. And when you ask yourself this question, it almost feels like you need to change something to balance. No, no. Just be you. That music is what it is.
Yes. It's now a matter of timing. And if you see Sophia, let's not take luck. Luck, but it's not just luck is just opportunity and timing. The opportunity came and we were ready.
Yes, yes, exactly. That's it. I think that's it. If you stay true to who you are, you will be prepared. And also, you have to be caught doing in motion, caught doing something. I think the only thing an artist needs to do is to be themselves and be actively doing what it is you love to do the best. So when the timing is right, you will be prepared to take advantage of it. That's your center.
You have all it takes to lead your own revival.
IG: @sophiannadozie
Music that promises relaxation often risks slipping into background noise, but on her debut project Feels Like Home, Osé achieves something far rarer: a quiet, grounding presence that demands your full attention. Across the tracklist, her vocal execution feels like butter smooth, effortless, and radiating a calm, sultry confidence. It is a body of work infused with touches of jazz, R&B, and rich cultural rhythms, offering listeners an immediate sense of peace and an escape to a poolside sanctuary, complete with a glass of wine and room to breathe.
From the opening moments of "24HRS" , Osé sets a tranquil tone. The track serves as a vibrant oasis where ocean-like melodic waves drift seamlessly over a subtle jump beat. When she asks for more time with a lover, her delivery feels completely unforced less like a demand and more like an effortless, magnetic request. Throughout the project, a quiet confidence emerges as the primary common thread: an artistic energy that feels remarkably soft, yet strong at the exact same time. Even on "Bother Me" (featuring Victony), where the tempo shifts upward into a swaying, infectious rhythm, the production remains remarkably smooth and non-intrusive, bringing movement to the tracklist without disrupting the EP’s delicate equilibrium.
As the EP progresses, Osé uses her vocal control to explore emotional clarity. On “Cease and Desist “, her questioning of a partner avoids any sense of confrontation; supported by a warm tempo and a soothing melody, her inquiry sounds like a person who has already found peace with whatever answer comes next. This intentionality shines even brighter on "Gently", a standout track where she claims the space to be her full, vulnerable self. In an industry that often tries to box in Black female artists or confuse volume with strength, Osé’s power lies in her soft authority. Her songwriting feels poetic and deliberate, turning self-assurance into something sonically restorative.
That feeling of freedom reaches a cinematic peak on "RAMBO". Driven by warm, atmospheric drums, the track teleports the listener directly to a coastal sunset—a scene where different hues hit the water, glasses are raised, and the crowd moves in shared euphoria.
By the time the project closes with "STUPID!" , the narrative arrives at a satisfying exhale. Rather than ending on bitterness or lingering regret, the song functions as a final release. Osé acknowledges past foolishness, comes to terms with the truth, and lets go with complete grace.
Feels Like Home leaves you with a lingering sense of calm a beautifully crafted body of work that proves peace can be the ultimate artistic statement.
Spotify brought its immersive Greasy Tunes experience to Nairobi, marking the Kenyan capital as the latest city to host the platform's community-driven cultural activation. Running from July 15 to July 26 at Heltz House, the 12-day residency transformed the venue into a gathering place where music, food, fashion, comedy and conversation converged, reflecting the vibrant creative energy that continues to define Nairobi.
Originally launched in Johannesburg before making its way to Lagos, Greasy Tunes is inspired by the idea of the neighborhood "greasy spoon" café – a familiar space where people naturally gather over good food and conversation. Rather than centering solely on live performances, Spotify has reimagined the concept for Nairobi by creating an environment that mirrors how young Kenyans experience culture: fluidly moving between music, storytelling, fashion, food and digital communities.
According to Spotify, listeners between the ages of 18 and 24 account for more than half of all streams in Nairobi, with listening habits peaking during the evening hours. Those insights helped shape the residency, which offered visitors a packed calendar of events spanning multiple creative disciplines instead of traditional concerts alone.
The program featured collaborations with some of Nairobi's most recognizable creative communities, including The BAG, Studio 18, Ongeza Volume, Strictly Soul, The Standup Collective, The Fisherman's Experience, Culture Club Podcast and 30 Percent Podcast. Each partnership brought a different perspective to the residency, highlighting the diversity of Kenya's contemporary creative landscape.
Among the standout moments were a Karibu Night inspired by Spotify's Made In Kenya playlist, live performances from Buruklyn Boyz, conversations led by producer Eric Musyoka, Larry Madowo and more, a women-in-music workshop designed to spotlight female voices in the industry, comedy showcases, fan experiences with Nyashinski and a closing celebration hosted by Strictly Soul.
Food also played an important role throughout the activation. Working alongside local culinary partners, Spotify incorporated Kenyan-inspired menus and communal dining experiences that reinforced Greasy Tunes' central idea: that music often serves as the soundtrack to everyday moments shared around the table.
The Nairobi edition reflects Spotify's growing investment in connecting with audiences beyond the streaming platform. Rather than focusing exclusively on playlists and algorithms, Greasy Tunes creates opportunities for listeners to experience music in physical spaces where creativity extends into conversations, fashion, food and community-building.
For Nairobi, the activation also serves as another acknowledgment of the city's growing influence within Africa's creative economy. Over the past few years, Nairobi has become an increasingly important destination for artists, creators and brands seeking to engage with East Africa's youthful and culturally engaged audiences. By choosing the city for the latest edition of Greasy Tunes, Spotify joins a growing list of global companies recognizing Nairobi as a hub where music and culture continue to shape one another.
While the residency has now concluded, Greasy Tunes leaves behind more than memories of performances and events. It reinforces the idea that streaming platforms can play a role beyond digital listening, creating real-world spaces where communities connect, collaborate and celebrate the cultures that inspire the music they hear every day.
Releasing her highly anticipated sophomore album, Tyla’s A*Pop arrives with a clear mission to push her sound further into the global pop arena without letting go of the South African rhythms that made her one of music's most exciting new stars. The result is what she's time and again dubbed as Popiano – a sleek blend of contemporary Pop with the unmistakable bounce of Amapiano.
At 14 tracks long, the record is undeniably her most pop-forward release yet. Songs like ‘Double Blind’ and ‘That Girl’ are built with global radio in mind, embracing the glossy songwriting and infectious hooks that Western labels often seek from artists crossing into mainstream markets. But Tyla never strips away the identity that got her there. Beneath the shimmering production lie the familiar log drums, rhythmic bounce, and vocal flourishes that make her music unmistakably from the continent. Even something as subtle as the ad-libs that close out ‘Kiss’ serves as a reminder to listeners of where her sound was born.
Elsewhere, collaborations with Mawhoo on "Crazy of Me" and the nostalgic pairing with Liquideep on "Fairytale," inject the album with warmth and authenticity, balancing its commercial ambitions with distinctly African musical textures.
Perhaps A*Pop's greatest strength is its versatility. The two-time Grammy winner effortlessly shifts between flirtatious, groove-driven anthems made for packed dance floors and softer, synth-drenched ballads that reveal a more vulnerable side. It's a satisfying mix of music to dip low to in the club and songs to sit with long after the night ends.
Yet, despite its strengths, A*Pop never quite reaches the creative highs of Tyla's self-titled debut. Even with already-proven standouts like ‘Chanel’ and 'She Did It Again’ featuring Zara Larsson, and stunning visuals from other singles, the album feels more refined than revelatory leaning a little too comfortably into familiar pop formulas, making the project feel safer than its ambitions suggest. Where her debut thrived on the excitement of introducing a fresh voice and sound, this follow-up misses that.
Still, that's hardly a criticism severe enough to overshadow what Tyla accomplishes here. A*Pop feels less like a reinvention and more like a confident expansion of her musical universe. It's the kind of album that will resonate most with listeners who've already squeezed every last replay out of her earlier discography and are ready to hear where Popiano goes next.
Nippa’s music has always been rooted in authenticity, but his latest chapter marks a powerful evolution—one that has seen him go deep into himself and open up more. His latest release, “Homegrown,” is an indicator of this chapter in his musical journey.
Joining forces with friend and US Rapper Blxst, it's more than a song for the Tottenham rapper; it is a celebration and celebration of his family as well as an anthem for his day-ones and supporters who have been alongside him for the journey.
As he gets ready to embark on a new chapter in his career, he opens up about the making of his new project, how family and community have shaped his journey, and why coming full circle means more than just success—it’s about redefining what it means to represent where you’re from.
Blxst and I have been tapped in from the start of my career. I supported him in 2021 when my single “Situation” came out. He just showed me love and put me on the stage, so we've been tapped in since then. We actually made Homegrown in LA. I needed help on the hook, so I called Blxst to come and help me, but by the time he came here, I'd already got a hook. He told me that he loves the song and he’d love to jump on the second verse. I think it made sense for the message. It's about family, coming from nothing, sticking with your day ones, all things that sit in my moral compass. Blxst has been there since day one with me, so I thought, why not? It just makes sense for him to be on a song that's about being with your day ones.
For me, it was a full-circle moment. It's been good to see Blxst's journey. I've been seeing it from before I even knew him; he's inspired a lot of my sound choices. So, it good to work with him. As I said, we've known each other for a while, so it was seamless, man. The video was seamless; it was just fun, man. You know, he knows my people. It was kind of like a family barbecue
I actually had heard the beat sometime last year, and I just felt that the beat was just so spiritual. I knew from the moment that it had to be about family, my mum, my grandma, my sister, and I just felt that it had to feel like a spiritual hug. But I just couldn't get it. I couldn't get it for so long. I just kept on making a lot of rubbish songs on the beat. And then one day I was chilling with Sam, I gave him a melody and we finally got somewhere. We were going back and forth on the writing and didn't really get anywhere. I went to Camper's Studio, and I just started spitting the flows out, and we had the whole song done that day. I called Blxst to come help with the hook, but before he'd even come, I'd already spat it all out.
So, I've got a love-hate relationship with my hood. It’s a proper full circle moment to see myself as the face of the soundtrack for Tottenham Hotspurs. Being from Tottenham, knowing that I've strived, suffered, cried, been happy, all in this area, and now I've got the main football team of this area behind me and representing me. It's definitely inspirational to see how far I've come. I also feel a responsibility to show the next generation of kids in Tottenham that we can do it without doing what they expect us to. We’re more than what they label us as, we're more than just the statistics. I'm happy, it’s definitely a full-circle moment.
100% man, it's super important. I'd say it's the most important thing, especially for this next chapter. I wanted to take a deep dive into myself and who I am. All my friends around me I've known for 24-plus years. My family know me, everyone around me knows the true, authentic version of me and I take pride in that. Having them around me keeps me grounded, keeps me from losing myself, and keeps me true to who I am.
Right now, I try not to take in a lot of the distractions. I kind of want to keep it on the work. For me, I'm just loading out new music. I try to stay in that creative mode, whether it's with my visuals or with my music itself. Of course, I'm happy that the love is getting there, but for me, it just shows me that it's time to show them what's next. I need to keep going and one-up myself in everything that I do.
I think last year, I was in a place where I was finally comfortable talking about my love life and what's affecting me in terms of my relationship with women. This time, I feel like it's got a bit deeper, and it's not about one thing. It’s about what affects my life as a whole. Who is Nippa behind the mic, you know? What does Nippa stand for? Who does he hold dear to him? What's made Nippa who he is today? And I think that is the key thing in this project and this next era. I want to show the world who I am behind the mic, and what makes me, me. That's obviously my ends, my community, my family, my friends. It's just all the intricate stuff, and the things that people really don't talk about as much, innit.
After four years of absence, Steve Lacy finally returns with a new project titled ‘Oh yeah?,’ a slow ambient ballad exploring his colourful love journey thus far, or the lack of it, revealing the challenges of modern dating through a Black queer lens, specifically as a bisexual fellow. With guest appearances from SZA, Erykah Badu, and more, Steve introduces an intricate sonic dance accompanied by minimal instruments such as a classic guitar, drums, and airy vocals; an approach that has since become his signature sound.
Steve Thomas Lacy-Moya, better known to the world as African-American Steve Lacy, is a 28-year-old singer-songwriter and producer who began his music career with the alternative group The Internet while still in high school. Perhaps what is most interesting about him, aside from his collaborations with the likes of Kendrick Lamar, Tyler The Creator, and more, is that he recorded all his earliest songs with an iPhone. His 2022 project ‘Gemini Rights’ earned him multiple groundbreaking awards, while he currently has almost 30 million monthly listeners on Spotify. Thus, Steve Lacy has become one of the most sought-after voices of his generation.
Steve’s first single ‘The Feeling’ set up the tone for the rest of the project to follow. From the first listen alone, it appears as if Steve is going through the ember stage of heartbreak, but as one pays closer attention, the song can be interpreted as the painful grieving process of a one-sided love never explored, a common experience in the bisexual community. Its intimate, obsessive lyrics that seemingly address a male muse, from the verse, “When you start writing songs just to stop thinking about him,” coming at the final bridge, really gave us the first hint of a fluid turmoil Steve has been meaning to soft launch. Similarly, Steve chooses to start ‘Is It Cool?’ with the words “Never needed a man,” which really comes across when one goes through the lyrics word for word.
This jumpy, avoidant approach to same-sex attraction is nothing new, as in his 2022 song “Static,” Steve Lacy sings, “Looking for a b*tch because I’m over boys,” to a seemingly majorly hetero interaction with a woman of interest. It is that notion that bleeds throughout the project; Steve is not actively trying to hide his sexual identity through lyrics; he is trying to balance it, inside a universal language like music that offers little to no bisexual love narration.
Another standout track is ‘show you me,’ where Steve confronts his muse with the following line: “Are you even gay?” Steve showcases his longing for love at full display, whether with a man or woman, admitting to himself that the drive for this search is loneliness. A central theme to this project can be traced in the lyrics, “As of late, I guess I’ve been leaning closer to D.” It also becomes apparent that, whereas in the past, songs directed to his female muses were lived experience, his songs directed to men are a distant companionship, often with the male muses unaware that Steve has unresolved feelings with them.
In a track that reminds one of ‘Californication’ by Red Hot Chili Peppers, Steve Lacy really paints the modern dating scene well in ‘doom.’ In a time where sex is more accessible than ever, and social media encourages validation over authenticity, there is little room for genuine affection. However, Steve doesn’t run away from reality, also admitting that he’s been a willing participant in this ordeal. The nihilistic lyrics paired with the uplifting instrumental are the perfect recipe for disaster.
Perhaps one of the most underrated tracks from the project, which really encapsulates the longing of a bisexual individual, can be felt in ‘nothing.’ Accompanied by a solo guitar, the simple lyrics establish the intensity of Steve’s one-sided infatuation. There is a certain atmosphere of delusion coupled with obsession that perfectly captures the narrow lines of fluidity. Intimacy with one was accessible, yet on the other end, it is unattainable, often self-inflicted, a love he finds difficult to explore in the open.
Steve Lacy’s latest project, ‘Oh yeah?’ contains all of the complexities, delusions, obsessiveness, and overall confusing emotions surrounding queer fluidity in today’s dating climate. In its cover, where a circle in the colours of the bisexuality flag emphasizes Steve’s wondering gaze, it already foretold the loneliness and anguish that awaits. Steve Lacy is not just dealing with a longing for queer love; he is struggling to keep afloat in an environment where temporary satisfaction and distant glaze have replaced meaningful connection. This is Steve Lacy’s most vulnerable and honest piece of work yet.
Before Banggz became Banggz,the emerging rapper/producer extraordinaire based in Canada’s capital city, Ottawa, he was Damilola Isa Salaudeen, a young boy raised in Lagos, Nigeria, with a persistent love of beats and bars. Through life’s challenges including immigration struggles and grief, his love of storytelling remained a constant way for him to get out of his head and uplift his community by telling their stories and speaking life into them. These sentiments inspired Banggz’s debut album, 4 THE BANGGERZ (2024), a project which proved his ability to craft infectious party starters including “OUTSIDE” and “WAKE UP”. “The whole idea [of 4 THE BANGGERZ] was escapism…making sure everyone was good, but I realized that I can't really do that if I don't help myself first,” he said. Followinghis debut came a few years of deep reflection amidst inner and outer turmoil, prompting him to write his new album, Love, Banggz, a coming-of-age story that plots a path between the formative stages of his life through love, loss and grief. “I wrote a love letter to my childhood self, he explained.”
One of the main tenets of Love, Banggz is the inherent nostalgia that comes with the retelling of a life story. Many of the songs speak candidly about love, a theme which Banggz says is central to his identity, particularly on “Pretty & Gorgeous”, “Love Letters” and “Blackberry Luv”. On the album, he embraces everything that comes with it, including heartbreak, while acknowledging his own flaws. “It's really important for me to tell my younger self that I love him, and it's really important for me to give myself another chance at love romantically, friendship-wise, [and with my] faith.” To capture finding love in the early digital age, Banggz wrote “Blackberry Luv” with the help of past Ottawa resident and rising afro soul/jazz singer Anaïs Cardot.
In this quest for love, Banggz is entirely inspired by his faith in Allah. After escaping insurgent violence in Jos, Nigeria, at the tender age of 3, he was changed forever, but it wasn’t until his faith was rekindled at the age of 25 that he fully surrendered to divine will. Since diving deeper into the Islamic faith he was born into, he’s found inner peace and defined his values, which he calls “unshakable”. Banggz has also been able to navigate loss and grief through his faith, especially through the loss of his grandmother 4 years ago, another prominent theme on the record, especially on the introspective first track, “Don’t Leave Me, Please”. As he makes peace with life’s curveballs, Banggz is no stranger to feelings of regret or failure, but he remains grateful for it all. “When you say failure, I immediately think gratitude…I feel blessed to have become the person that I am today.”
To create his most authentic music yet, Banggz leaned on live instrumentation to capture the jazzy, R&B inflected hip-hop soundscape that most of the album lives in. As executive producer, he made sure the production reflected the realities of the songs, most of which were initially written as journal entries and poems. “If you write an album called Love, Banggz, you know, you better make sure that you know it's really 100% honest, and the best way for me to do that was to just make it myself.” A star instrument that he made sure to include was the talking drum, which is prominent in the Yoruba storytelling tradition. “I needed [the talking drums] to move around the album a bit, because I'm talking about my life story. I wanted the instrumental to talk in that sense too.” For features, he picked people who inspired him, including his good friends jev. and Anaïs Cardot, two Ottawa acts whose talents have gone global. To Banggz, jev. is the kind of rapper and friend who motivates him to see his own worth. “[jev.] trusts his taste so much, watching him really helped me, and listening to him helped me trust my own taste too.” On the previously released “JAM ME!,” jev. and Banggz combined forces to create a highly captivating track, perfect for the dance floor. Banggz’s best friend Anaïs Cardot also has a similar commitment to her own taste. “You’re almost scared when working in the studio [with her], and it's because her ear does not lie. If one note is off, she knows.” Both remain personal and professional sources of motivation for Banggz; their recent successes do not intimidate him. “I don't really see it as [an] ‘I wish it was me’ type of thing, because for me, it's even great. If I didn't have somebody to look to who's my peer, I think I'll be in a worse situation.”
Speaking of Ottawa, Love, Banggz is also a love letter to Canada’s capital. Though Ottawa is often derided as a boring city with no entertainment offerings, artists like Banggz have bucked against those expectations. “Shout out to Ottawa, very underrated city… I love this place, man. The support is wild.” Though his sophomore project is less community-centric than his last, it still pays homage to his community, which has supported him unconditionally even when he finds it hard to ask for help. Part of Banggz’s offering to his community on this project is the phrase: “It’s your duty to learn how to enjoy yourself”, which is repeated on the second track, “Worldwide Banggerz!”. He believes that enjoyment is not just something you receive; it’s something you have to learn how to bring from within to those around you. To sum up his convictions, he says, “At the end of the day, the reason why I'm doing the things that I do, it's all gonna boil down to God, my guys, and love.”
Banggz hopes that this new record causes listeners to feel and listen more to those around them. He recommends listening to it in totality, in order to grasp its full message. “This project is one of those ones that years from now people will look back, and then they keep hearing new things as you grow because I grew to make this album.” As he prepares for the release of the project and a potential tour, he is fully focused and excited for what’s to come.
We are already halfway through summer in the UK, with two heatwaves under our belt and performances from British Summer Time in Hyde Park, Piano People in the Park, Cross The Tracks and City Splash. However, we still have a month of summer left, and with exactly one month till All Points East is among us, the excitement and countdown begins with all the fantastic vibes still to come.
The lineup features Jorja Smith and Tems, who will be kicking off the festival this year. The double headliners have put together a lineup for R&B, Soul, and Afrobeats music lovers. We can already predict that the opening day of the festival is set to be one for the books and will be worth braving the dusty terrain of Victoria Park. Joining them will be the likes of KWN, Uncle Waffles, Elmiene, Odeal, Ayra Starr, Bellah, Nia Archives and more who are set to provide a great day of musical vibes.
Tyler, The Creator will also curate a two-day lineup across Friday the 28th and Saturday the 29th of August. With his extensive catalogue, he is sure to bring two distinctive sets that will have Victoria Park going off.
Joining him across the two nights will be Yebba, Dijon, Clipse, Khamari, Mariah The Scientist, Jim Legxacy, Ravine Lenae, Vince Staples, Natanya, Syd, SexxyRed and so much more.
Before we call a wrap to the end of summer, there is still something to look forward to as All Points East promises another stellar lineup of music that will no doubt be a highlight of the festival season.
Before taking the stage at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, opening for the phenomenal Bad Bunny, Puerto Rican group Chuwi entertained a sold-out crowd with their first-ever London headline show, presented by Hennessy. Bringing the essence and vibe of Puerto Rico to the London heatwave, the crowd embraced the energy from start to finish.
The show took place at the peak of a heatwave and gave a strong Puerto Rican summer feel as the group took to NT’s Loft, playing to a sold-out crowd and entertaining the masses ahead of their opening slot on Bad Bunny’s DeBí TiRAR MáS FOToS world tour.
For the group, made up of siblings Lorén, Wester and Willy, alongside childhood friend Adrian Lopez, it was their first time playing in London. The energy they brought and received from the crowd was a real moment for them. The show lasted just over an hour, showcasing their musical style and Puerto Rican flavour to the London crowd.
Formed during COVID, they have released music since then, including several EPs and singles that have grown their fanbase and popularity over the years. A significant moment in their musical journey came with the inclusion of Bad Bunny’s 2025 DeBí TiRAR MáS FOToS, on which they featured on WELTiTA. Since then, they have garnered international attention. They joined him as part of his No Me Quiero Ir de Aquí residency and the subsequent world tour, which is currently underway.
Beyond Bad Bunny, they have won fans over with their indie-electric sound and a musicality that blends with the vocals of Loren, Willy and Wester. Earlier this year, they featured on Tiny Desk, a sneak peek of what they have to offer.
Now, with their headline show, the energy was amplified, and the whole room was singing along, making it feel more like a jam session than a show.
The setlist included tracks like Uwu, which they opened with, as well as Judy, Durmiendo, Mundi, Bipal Falta Algo and Tierra, before closing with WELTiTA. As an introduction to the group for a London crowd, there is no doubt that their energy has travelled well beyond Puerto Rico, representing their current impact and everything that has unfolded over the last year. As somebody who is a fan of music in general despite the language barrier, there is nothing that speaks greater than the feeling that music gives and how it moves, and the performance Chuwi gave was a strong representation of how that was brought to the UK.
The sweltering heat and crowd energy were felt as you came up the stairs into the venue, and it was a memorable feeling from entering to leaving. As we continue to watch the group, we look forward to their next show.
There is a distinctive, unmistakable energy that belongs strictly to New York City. It is an effortless transition between high-fashion luxury and raw pavement that balances immense swagger with unyielding grit. But in an industry that constantly copies and capitalizes on this cultural footprint, true authenticity is rare. Most chase the wave; very few actually create it. Queens-born artist Lloyd McKenzie Jr., known globally as Bay Swag, is one of those rare creators. Coinciding with the highly anticipated premiere of his new documentary, ‘The Story - The Sound’ Presented by Nothing Bout Us Regular and directed by Bonsu Thompson (@bonsudreamz)
Through his pioneering role in the high-energy, infectious "Sexy Drill" wave, Bay Swag has flipped the traditional, dark drill formula on its head, proving you can float over hard-hitting New York beats with feel-good energy rather than standard, aggressive themes. Yet beneath this vibrant sound lies a heavy personal reality including his mother’s battle with breast cancer and his father’s 85-year prison sentence. " Refusing to let trauma break him, Bay Swag uses his acclaimed album, Damaged Thoughts, to turn ‘pain into champagne" He leans directly into the vulnerability of his journey, showing fans that raw honesty is the only real path to longevity. Below, the artist breaks down the blueprints of his grind, his brotherhoods, and his refusal to ever have a Plan B.
The title of the film is ‘Bay Swag: The Story - The Sound’. In a music industry that constantly tries to copy and capitalize on New York’s style, how does this film show your audience that you and your crew are the ones actually defining the currency, rather than just chasing it?
It takes people behind the music so they can see where the sound actually comes from, the people around me, the city, and the process. Once you see that, you see we’re not following a wave, we created it. It's a blessing, of course. You know, you gotta thank God first and foremost. Actually, it’s a good thing. There's nothing wrong with it. Some people don't like that, and they’ll start, saying stuff or try to diss people about it. Like ‘I don't know why you sound like me’ or this and that, but we actually appreciate it and really acknowledge it because that means you're doing something good. You know, you started a whole new sound, and now everybody's messing with it and liking it and now everybody’s doing it. It's a good thing. I feel really good about it. It actually makes me happy.
Your latest album Damaged Thoughts was a massive turning point because you were willing to show the trauma and stress that a lot of artists hide behind a confident exterior. What was the hardest part about letting the documentary cameras into those exact same dark spaces, and why did your fans need to see that side of you?
It's actually crazy because it's not hard for me. I'm not scared to speak about the truth and my life. A lot of people are scared to speak the truth and talk about things that they're actually going through in their lives. It’s hard for them to talk. To talk about things that they go through, their trauma, or things that hurt them or things that broke their hearts. I'm not really afraid to. I guess that's just me. But I actually feel a lot of artists should do that because it'll make things way easier. It’ll make the music way easier. It’ll make life just way easier. Just be honest and speak your truth. That's why it's so easy for me to go in the studio and record, because I'm always speaking the truth.
There’s a heavy quote from you where you mention that "being an artist is the most dangerous s**t in the world" because you always have to be seen and posted. How does this documentary give fans an inside look at the anxiety and paranoia that comes with that lifestyle and things the average listener never gets to see?
It can be dangerous. You have to post where you’re at, you gotta post the time, you gotta post the location. You gotta post literally everything. Imagine you have problems with some people and they literally know exactly who you are and where you are. If somebody's hating on you and you don't even know, they could just be jealous of you, come up to you acting like a fan and you and you’re just being supportive thinking they're fan and then they could just be on some whole other type of time. It's crazy. Really imagine that.
You’re known for driving the "Sexy Drill" wave music that is purely about good energy, dancing, and having fun without the violence. Yet, your reality includes heavy personal chapters like your father’s 85-year sentence and your mother beating cancer. How does the film explain that intentional balance using high-energy music to heal and escape deep personal pain?
I'm trying to show that you can turn the pain into champagne. No matter what you’re going through, you can't let it stop your motion or let it stop you from doing the things that you're supposed to do. A lot of people, when things happen like that, like something crazy - they get crazy news or bad news or somebody passes away or like me, my mom got diagnosed with breast cancer, my dad got sentenced to 85 years in jail. Some would take that and have a whole totally different way in life and just cry about it or just be sad about it. Nah, you gotta turn that pain into champagne.
You’ve openly stated that you don’t believe in using life's tragedies as an excuse to stop elevating, saying "that’s supposed to motivate you". How does this film capture your growth as a man who chose to carry the weight of his family on his back, rather than letting it break him?
Looking back, we really created something that changed the world. We created a whole new genre. I dropped a great album, performed on big stages, got a gold RIAA plaque. Everything in that way has helped me.
A massive lesson in your journey has been pure, unadulterated patience. You’ve said, "I don’t have a plan B, I'mma make sure that plan A work." Looking back at the footage of your early grind, what do you think that relentless mindset says to the kid watching this documentary who feels like their own dreams are taking too long to happen?
As you can see, patience is key. Just keep grinding, keep working as much as possible. I'm not a loser, you gotta have that winning mentality. Tell yourself like this 'I gotta make this work. This has to happen' Once you actually put that into your regular life, every day, it'll work. Not necessarily everything will work out, but I would rather try my hardest and fail rather than just sitting back and not doing anything. At least try. At least you'll know you put your all, you tried your hardest. Its better to know you put your all into it rather than going halfway with it.
Most music documentaries are made twenty years after an artist hits their peak. Why was it vital for you to give your audience an inside look at the blueprint right now, when your career is taking off and your future is still being written?
I feel like now is the time to give people that motivation. My documentary is obviously not the end. I'm not done. To be continued. It's just my journey from then to now, and showing what's possible.
On the album Damaged Thoughts, you collaborated with heavyweights like Young Thug, Meek Mill, and Quavo. Beyond just making hits, those are men who have stood by you, with Thug even offering to pay for your father’s lawyer. How does the documentary pull back the curtain on those genuine, behind-the-scenes brotherhoods that go way deeper than a studio session?
Honestly, I have a second part to the documentary and I got Cash Cobain in it. He talked a bit, but I want to do a part three to really dive into the artist side and get their look on everything. But I feel like those are my big brothers and I'm blessed to be able to call them that. I'm blessed to get calls from them. Blessed that they answer whenever I call. I can call every one of the guys that's on my album. It's deeper than music, you know, and they guide me. They give me their thoughts on what I should do, or they used to do this or they should do. I can call Young Thug and talk about life, talk about things I'm going through. Shout out to Future because Future is also a guy that I get a lot of game from, and he teaches me a lot and we have talks. He actually called yesterday. There's a song on the way. I can't say when, but it's on the way.
You’ve pointed out that when a new wave starts, everyone tries to sound like someone else, but your superpower is just being yourself. How does The Story - The Sound prove to your audience that honesty is the only way to build longevity in this game?
I feel like it's written, literally. If you go back through the history of rap and hip-hop, you can tell that when people are talking about their life and the things they're going through, people relate to it more. You never know what somebody else is dealing with. Music heals people. That's a fact.
When the credits roll on this film, I think people’s perception of Bay Swag is going to be completely different. As you step into this next era of your life and career, what do you want this chapter to say about Bay Swag, and what legacy do you hope it leaves behind?
Answer: I want people to know that no matter what you're going through, and no matter what you went through, keep going. The devil will always try to come and stop you when things are going good, man, but you got to overcome that, and keep God first, man. Just keep God first and just keep grinding no matter what. When you're going through those hard times and when you get out of it, you'll be like, wow. God is real, man. I did what I had to do. I kept grinding. I kept putting my foot on the gas.
Looking Forward
Ultimately, Bay Swag’s journey is a masterclass in holding onto your identity when the world demands you dilute it. As his story unfolds in real-time, Nothing Bout Us Regular Presents Bay Swag: The Story - The Sound leaves us with a sharp, undeniable truth: longevity is earned through honesty, and there is no substitute for standing firmly in your own lane.
Cover Credit: cozzylens
Embracing his heritage has always been one of the things Ayetian holds closest to his heart. Raised by Haitian parents and born and brought up in Jamaica, he grew up in a deeply cultured environment that shaped the person and artist he is today. Proud of both his Haitian roots and Jamaican upbringing, Ayetian carries the spirit of the Caribbean into everything he does. Deeds Magazine caught up with him to talk about his upbringing, music, creative process, collaborations and the journey behind the name.
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Hi Ayetian, it's a pleasure meeting you. I'm Ruqayyah, a writer with Deeds Magazine. Let's start with your background. Could you tell our audience who Ayetian is?
Ayetian is more than words can describe. You have to experience me in person. My charismatic spirit, vibrant personality, humour, kindness, and genuine energy make me unforgettable. I embody the Caribbean.
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It's known that your parents immigrated from Haiti to Jamaica, and that you were born there. What was your upbringing like? and how did it shape you into the person you are today?
I was raised in a deeply cultural environment shaped by my parents, where lessons were not meant to be changed, but understood and adapted. In my household, there was no wrong way of teaching. While alternative paths weren’t discouraged, they weren’t indulged, so it was either follow the foundation laid out or take full responsibility for becoming something else. That upbringing shaped me into someone independent and creative.
How did your collaboration with Rvssian, Moliy, and Tyga come about?
The collaboration with Rvssian, Moliy, and Tyga came together organically. It was purely a vibe, with no overplanning, yet executed seamlessly. Rvssian saw the vision and brought me onto the track to add a Caribbean flair, tapping into the energy of dancehall and soca.
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You're known for your freestyles. What's the best freestyle you have ever made, and where was that made?
One of the best freestyles I’ve ever made was back in Grade 11, under Cornwall’s iconic towering almond tree. It was raw and authentic. It reflected my lifestyle, touching on girls and money without being explicit.
How does your name Ayetian connect to your Haitian roots?
I wanted something distinctive that connected to the Haitian side of my background. “Ayetian” felt right; it's one of the best names I could have chosen.
How does your name Ayetian connect to your Haitian roots?
My creative process isn’t a secret. It’s driven by vibes, music, and a little bit of magic.
What's a must-do daily routine you do every single day?
One habit I always maintain is reading; it helps expand my vocabulary and sharpen my expression.
In an interview with Television Jamaican, you’ve talked before about staying consistent with your craft, dropping something every month, and not wanting to be a seasonal artist. How has that been going?
As you can see, my name stays in conversation, there’s a presence attached to it. Say my name, and something happens.
Which artists would you love to collaborate with in the near future?
I don’t limit my catalog or collaborations. If the energy aligns and the business makes sense, I’m always open to working.
Final Question: What’s a side of Ayetian that fans don’t usually get to see?
My alter ego: Nino Espartarno.
Credits:
Ayetian Credits
Photographer & Creative Director: Zekaria Al-Bostani
Lighting: Nicola Sclano
Stylist: Ramario Chevoy
Styling Assistant: Rudina Brika
Hair Stylist/Grooming: Lauraine Bailey
Writer: Ruqayyah Sadiq
Design: @dianeadanna
BTS: Blair Watson
Studio: @blankboxstudio
PR: @myblaqbook @giovannamae
Fave has been one of Nigerian music’s most quietly consistent presences since “Baby Riddim” established her in 2021. RnBling, her third body of work released July 8, 2026, is six tracks of a singer fully settled into who she is - moving between vulnerability and confidence without losing the thread of either. The EP is produced across a tight circle of collaborators, with Dunnie and Deeyasso handling the bulk of the production, and features Chike and Yemi Alade as the two guest artists.
“Body Talk”, produced by Dunnie, opens the project on a warm, mid-tempo note - Fave establishing the EP’s emotional register immediately. “Miss You” follows, with Chike joining for a record built on longing - his signature emotive vocals sitting naturally against Fave’s soulful delivery, the two voices occupying the same emotional space with ease.
“Dance”, produced by Damie, is where the EP finds its clearest footing - rhythmic, easy, and impossible to sit still through. Of the six tracks, it is the one most likely to find its own life outside the EP. “Drown”, produced by German trio 255, takes the EP into its most vulnerable territory - Fave examining the consequences of falling too deeply into something, the production darker and more textured than what precedes it. It is the EP’s most emotionally direct moment
“Paparazzi” featuring Yemi Alade carries the kind of energy that recalls Yemi’s 2016 Maleek Berry-produced single ‘Want You’ - that same unbothered confidence, the awareness of being watched and the complete refusal to shrink from it. Yemi’s swagger and Fave’s warmth occupy the same space without competing, the collaboration feeling immediate rather than arranged.
“La La La” closes the project on its lightest note - a feel-good record that sends the listener out exactly as the title promises.
RnBling is an enjoyable, cohesive project that moves through emotional range without losing control of its tone. The third track alone is worth the listen.
It is not often that the cover of a song makes you stop and stare at the masterpiece before you. So, when ‘On My Mind’ by Adekunle Gold and Yamê first dropped, and the cover was revealed, looking just as good as the song sounded, with its vibrant cloudy pink and uniquely styled black figures, it was as though the whole package was gold served on a platter. However, who is the artist behind the artwork? And what do we know of the story that brought all three heads together?
Francis Essoua Kalu, better known to the world as Enfant Précoce, meaning precocious child in English, is a 37-year-old Cameroon-born painter and dancer based in Paris, France. Growing up, Francis first discovered art through his uncle, Malam Essoua, a sculpture artist, whose free-spirited life deeply inspired him. After settling in France at the age of Nine, he began his artistic journey as a dancer before pivoting and falling in love with painting, devoting his professional career to the creative field in 2013.
If Francis’ face may appear familiar, it is because, alongside both dancing and painting, he has also dabbled in modelling. Just to name a few, he walked for Pharrell Williams' first Louis Vuitton runway show in 2023, appeared in a Ralph Lauren campaign, and even posed with his own daughter for the Walk in Paris fashion brand. Truly, Francis is a virtuoso of many gifts. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that his artwork for ‘On My Mind’ happens to be one of the many occasions we’re in awe of what he is capable of creating.
Enfant Précoce’s visualscape, when looking at his characters, appears to almost always remain in movement, which could be a nudge to his past as a dancer or merely an artistic choice. Engulfed in bright and vibrant colours, his paintings are never boring, often depicting a beautiful chaos, where every interaction between objects and figures feels intentional. Besides, sometimes, direct visual context, it would appear that Francis draws inspiration from his childhood memories in Cameroon. With instances showing African women in an embrace or a crowded bus, it gives us insight into Francis’ psyche of how he absorbs small details in everyday life we tend to overlook and turns them into an immortalized image worth remembering.
The artwork titled bébé by Enfant Précoce was first shown to both Yamê and Adekunle Gold in person at his atelier in Paris. In a short clip shared on social media, Yamê introduces Francis as his friend, explaining that the art piece was made for them. When Francis fixates on the painting on the wall, he unveils that the ensemble portrays a female figure in duality. Where perhaps one option could offer materialistic gain, whereas the other may bring emotional balance. Although it may not directly align with the lyrical content, bébé exists as a storyline to admire on its own.
In a time when artists place less and less thought behind cover art, it is refreshing to view an example where both the beauty and substance behind it are preserved. Francis’ artwork not only brings life to the single, but it also reminds us how pivotal visuals are to the elevation and understanding of an artist’s sonic world. Surely, we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but what does little care and effort placed on one’s visuals say about a recording artist?
Take ‘The Sugar Shack’ by Ernie Barnes, for example, a painting that accompanied Marvin Gaye’s incredible 1976 record ‘I Want You.’ Barnes’ painting of stylishly dressed, elongated black figures dancing to a silent tune, with closed, tender eyes, in what looks to be a barn, reimagines a memory from Barnes’ early childhood in the South. The eclectic ambience and warm colours almost erase the thought that Barnes was born in Jim Crow North Carolina. In contrast, Marvin’s record is a sensual delight, busted erotic intimacy, encapsulating the purest form of vulnerability.
To this day, the masterful skills of both worlds intertwined as one have become an all-time classic and even outlived their creators. Despite transcending centuries, the imagery and sound still resonate strongly, capturing a defining moment in history that aged like wine, surpassing expectations and settling into timelessness. Although the depth between each creative expression may be in a different weight class, they blend perfectly with one another like milk & honey. Thus, making it into the hall of fame, should there be a categorisation for the most honourable music cover art.
Enfant Précoce’s cover contribution to Adekunle Gold and Yamê’s collaboration brought a similar feeling back. One where the cover art accompanying a well-woven track could triumph against the test of time. Surely, in twenty years from now, the artwork could be presented in museums, revisited for the music era of two phenomenal artists. Not only would they stand out, but they also took the road less travelled. In this new era of the internet, where instant gratification has become more important than depth and artistry, whether painters or musicians are directly affected by this change.
One of the cheap tricks that modern artists have utilized are A.I. generated covers. This is a complete shift from the well-thought-out, sought-after cover arts from the generation that came before the millennials. Perhaps the A.I. art piece can be visually appealing, but it can never replace the soul of an artist. And like we’ve seen with examples of the past and present, the story behind an artwork can matter just as much as the execution. Not to mention that this takes the opportunity away from an illustrator or a painter who could have given the musical project a new dimension.
If ‘On My Mind’ could have brought any kind of reassurance, it is that collaborations and layers to one’s image are still intact. Even through the cracks of loud noise and attention-seeking displays, some will stick to their guns and ultimately deliver, just as Enfant Précoce in his own time.
Afro Nation Portugal was back for its sixth edition, returning to Praia da Rocha in Portimão from July 3–5 with another blockbuster lineup of Afrobeats, R&B, hip-hop, and global pop stars namely Burna Boy, Wizkid, Tyla, Asake, Mariah The Scientist, Gunna, Kehlani, Olamide and more. As expected, the festival's biggest names have dominated conversations online, but a closer look at this year's bill reveals another story unfolding.
Beyond the headliners, Afro Nation 2026 continues to spotlight the breadth of African music by bringing together artists from across the continent's distinct musical landscapes, alongside voices from the wider diaspora. The result is a lineup that reflects not only where African music is today, but how interconnected its regional scenes have become.
Among the artists drawing attention is Kenya's Bien, whose solo career has continued to flourish following Sauti Sol's hiatus. The Grammy winner whose catalogue as a songwriter is buoyed by collaborations spanning East, West and Southern Africa–arrived at Afro Nation as one of East Africa's most recognizable musical exports, representing a region that has become increasingly visible on international festival stages.
Uganda's Joshua Baraka also joined this year's lineup, extending a breakthrough run that has seen his music resonate well beyond East Africa. His inclusion speaks to the growing presence of artists from countries that have historically been underrepresented at major global festivals centered on African music.
South Africa's amapiano movement remains one of Afro Nation's defining pillars, with DJ and producer Uncle Waffles, Kelvin Momo, Focalistic, MaWhoo and Madumane leading a deep roster that also includes Zee Nxumalo, Felo Le Tee, JazzWorld, Thukuthela, GL_Ceejay, Nkosazana Daughter, Royal MusiQ and Success. Rather than treating amapiano as a passing trend, the festival has consistently dedicated significant space to one of the continent's most influential genres. This year's lineup reflected that commitment, bringing together chart-topping performers, influential producers, DJs and vocalists whose collective impact has propelled the South African sound from its township roots to a global audience.
Additionally, the lineup also embraced the diversity of the African diaspora. UK-Nigerian artist Darkoo and hitmaker Young Jonn joined the bill alongside Ghanaian duo R2Bees and veteran singer Wande Coal, while France's Niska and Brazilian superstar Ludmilla further expanded the festival's international reach; showing the many directions African and diaspora sounds continue to evolve.
That broader representation has become one of Afro Nation's defining strengths. While fans may have initially traveled to Portugal for arena-filling stars like Burna Boy or Tyla, the festival has increasingly become a space where audiences encounter artists from different regions, genres and cultures in the same weekend. It's one of the few events where East African pop, Nigerian Afrobeats, South African amapiano, Ghanaian hip-hop and Francophone rap can comfortably exist on the same lineup.
As African music continues to command global attention, festivals like Afro Nation are evolving alongside it. This year's lineup suggests that the story is no longer solely about a handful of internationally recognized stars. Instead, it reflects an ecosystem where established artists from across Africa and its diaspora are sharing one stage, introducing fans to the depth, diversity and dynamism of the continent's music scene.
Afro Nation Portugal 2026 ran through July 5, with performances spread across its main stage, Piano People stage and Afrotronic stage, reaffirming its place as one of the world's premier celebrations of African music and culture.
At this stage, we trust that you have listened, partied well, and whined your waist thoroughly to Tiakola’s new summer banger “Mélo Décalé.” Whether it was during Fête de la Musique or ongoing festivals, we hope the mélo vibe fused with Coupé-Décalé, an Ivorian music staple, has brought you joy and a great time every chance it was played. Now, unless you haven’t been paying close attention, Tiakola is one of the few French-Congolese artists who managed to reach global listeners beyond his core Francophone audience, notably his feature with Asake “BADMAN GANGSTA” landing him number one on the Nigerian Top Turntable Charts, the first artist from the Congolese diaspora to ever do so.
Behind the dance moves, the cityboy aesthetic, and the fun music video that was released alongside the single, there is a hidden message Tiakola wanted to convey. And that is the lack of monetization by streaming services for African artists. As of now, what the soft campaign through the song reveals is that out of 54 African countries, a shocking number of only 13 countries are officially eligible for the YouTube Partner Program. This includes Nigeria, Kenya, Ghana, Tanzania, Senegal, Algeria, Egypt, Libya, Morocco, South Africa, Tunisia, Uganda and Zimbabwe.
Why is this important, you may ask? While African music is growing exponentially at a rapid pace, now ever more away from just English-speaking nations, African artists must receive the support they need to sustain their craft. Since foreign investments are frugal and unreliable, online monetization is a key aspect in which artists from the continent can not only grow their careers, but also make a decent living for themselves. Although hacks are floating online on how to profit from monetisation, even if, due to your region, you’re ineligible for such, there is a clear underlying reason why those in control of these streaming platforms want to pick and choose what is deemed valuable and what is not.
Because if we’re speaking of numbers, then they are evidently there. In Ivory Coast and Congo alone, you can name more than 10 artists who reach at least a million monthly listeners, not to mention the number of supporters they gather during concerts, whether it is in each of their respective regions or abroad. What this decision shows, which has been in place for decades, is that there is a lack of understanding of the nuances of how culture spreads and travels, aside from Western norms. If execs understood how music listeners on the continent have to resort to alternatives such as pirating just to listen to their favourite artist, because online services are not accessible to them as it would in the West. This pivots a large number of potential streamers that would add to the existing numbers.
But truthfully, nothing could explain this phenomenon. Every month, there seems to be a new African artist breaking records, whether it is on stage, at awards shows, or even in music charts, so to sit there and pretend African music does not deserve the fruit of its labours is ludicrous. That is to say, the lack of monetization as well as lower revenues based on someone’s nationality should be abolished. Surely, platforms such as Spotify, which had an entire lineup of artists of African descent during FDLM, could use the same logic and decision-making in public as in private, understanding that there is a growing demand for African music, as a collective, and fair compensation for everyone allows for their platforms to continue to benefit from just as much, right?
The song was danced to during the World Cup and was played everywhere at Fête de La Musique: “Pilé” by Mauvais Djo has the world in a frenzy. Yet, little is known about the artist behind the song of the summer, and what the lyrics actually mean. With honourable mentions like “Pélélé” by Fally Ipupa and, recently, “Fimbu” by Felix Wazekwa making rounds, they all seem to have something in common: their Congolese rhythmic and simple lyrics are memorable and make you want to dance along.
Mauvais Djo is a Congolese-French artist who began releasing music in 2020. His early entries always focused on party music and football references, ironically calling listeners to dance to “Ballon D’Or” and “Maradona,” for example. It was in the year 2023, however, that he got his big break with “Y a une meuf”, reaching 7 million streams at the time. His biggest career move was forming the group Triangle des Bermudes with MC YOSHI and Kokosvoice.
Although “Pilé” has reached massive heights, it is interesting to note that Mauvais Djo himself has fallen under the radar, only accumulating roughly 13k followers on Instagram as we speak. This phenomenon can be explained as many established artists have performed and reinterpreted the song without giving credit to the original artist. This shows a grave issue in the music industry where sometimes a song becomes bigger than the artist, and their career may not benefit from the momentum.
There have been many debates online on what the word Pilé means. In this particular context, it sounds like a double entendre. Firstly, when taking a look at the following lyrics, “Les billets toujours empilés, pilés, pilés, pilés,” the signification of the word pilé here is the shortened version of “empilés,” which means to pile up. So what Mauvais Djo is trying to say is that his money keeps on getting piled up.
Secondly, as the following lyrics state, “Michael Jackson a pilé,” this suggests that pilé here means “beat it,” but just mispronounced. This is very common in both Congolese and francophone circles, where most of the population does not primarily speak English. So instead of pronouncing the correct word, they will come up with their own, sounding similar yet not quite the same. Often enough, bringing a new definition into classic English words in music.
So what is Mauvais Djo actually saying? Like much of his previous songs, Pilé is a call for celebration. Mauvais Djo is celebrating his victory and asking, where are the haters who thought he would not succeed. This is evident when he states, “Où sont passés ceux qui nous disaient d’faire la queue?” This translates into where are those who told us to make a line, meaning Mauvais Djo should wait for his turn to be at the forefront. Those same people who doubted are not the ones who have to witness him piling up his money, which symbolises the fruit of his labour.
As mentioned before, the song that had been circulating across social media, mainly resonating with members of the African continent and its diaspora, became a global phenomenon during Fête de la Musique and the World Cup. Many artists and fans alike are hitting the trendy moves during their set and at popular events to show their appreciation for the viral song. A notable moment was Tayc during FDLM, who performed Pilé in front of a massive crowd, something he had already done in his own concerts.
The same can be said about sports teams, dancing to pilé on football fields or even in the changing rooms like the Paris Saint-Germain handball team. The song has become the perfect tune to celebrate one's victory with comrades. Those celebrations go even further, being played also during weddings where the married couple and friends take on the dance floor to show their pilé moves.
As of late, a DJ played the song during his set in Atlanta, and everyone in the crowd knew the lyrics word for word. What Pilé represents is a great moment in history, where it just happened to take off during the most important cultural occurrences, which are the World Cup, Fête de la Musique and many more gatherings planned for the summer.
Home has always been central to Mayra Andrade's music. Not simply as a place, but as a language, a rhythm and a memory that follows her wherever she goes. Across nearly two decades, the Cape Verdean singer-songwriter has built one of contemporary music's most distinctive catalogues, weaving together Morna, Batuque, Jazz, Afro-pop and Brazilian influences into songs that feel both deeply personal and universally familiar.
As Cape Verde experiences a defining cultural moment on the world stage, Andrade finds herself reflecting on the ideas that have shaped her work from the very beginning: identity, belonging, creativity and the quiet responsibility of representing a nation that has long introduced itself through its artists.
In conversation with Mayra, she speaks about vulnerability, motherhood, language, fashion and why, for her, home has always been something carried in song.
"It took me years to start writing directly about my own life. In the beginning, I didn't think my stories were interesting enough, so I wrote about other people, their realities, the countryside, fishermen. I imagined lives that weren't my own because I wasn't yet ready to tell mine.
Over time, that changed. I first found a way to speak about myself through ethereal, almost cryptic poetry that people couldn't fully decode. But as the years passed, I learned how to express those personal stories more clearly while still leaving enough space for listeners to bring their own experiences into the music.
I realized that when I write from a place of deep personal truth, people don't just hear my story—they hear their own. They project their lives onto the songs, and in that way, the music becomes both deeply personal and deeply universal. My songs remain a little coded, but they're coded differently for everyone who connects with them."
It's really been a journey of embracing vulnerability. Instead of hiding behind complicated metaphors, I've learned to simply call things what they are to call an egg an egg and a giraffe a giraffe. I try to avoid making the writing too poetic that people lose sight of what I'm trying to say.
For me that came with maturity. It came with accepting who I am, accepting everything life brought me, and being willing to stand in front of the world with that honesty. I'm still discovering where I want to reveal that vulnerability and where I prefer to keep it for myself.
I think the whole world already knows that for us, it goes far beyond football.
When we watch our team walk onto the pitch, we don't just see athletes, we see resilience. We see sacrifice. We see generations of people who built something extraordinary without the support or infrastructure that many larger nations take for granted.
That fills me with immense pride.
I'm part of a generation that constantly had to explain where Cape Verde was. I remember people asking me to point to it on a map, and sometimes it wasn't even there. Music helped change that over the years, especially through artists like Cesária Évora, who introduced Cape Verde to so much of the world.
But nothing compares to the visibility the World Cup brings.
This moment allows the world to finally see that we exist to see our history, our culture, our resilience and our unity.
Cape Verde is an archipelago, yet we've always found remarkable ways to remain connected. We often say that our diaspora is our eleventh island. Cape Verdeans living abroad aren't separated from us—they're part of us. We nourish one another. They carry the islands with them, and the islands continue to carry them.
That's why this moment means so much. It's a pride that's difficult to put into words, and I'm incredibly grateful to be living through it.
"The diaspora is our eleventh island. They are not separate from us, they are part of us."
For me, greatness has never been measured by awards or numbers.
It's measured by the impact you have on people's lives.
This World Cup is already changing lives. It's changing representation. It's influencing the economy. It's expanding what's possible for young people growing up in Cape Verde and showing them they can dream bigger than they ever imagined.
That's what greatness is.
It's staying true to your values while creating something that genuinely moves people—not only through what you achieve, but through the hope you leave behind.
Music has always been one of Cape Verde's greatest cultural exports. Do you feel this World Cup is allowing the rest of the world to discover another side of Cape Verde?
Yeah, absolutely. I mean, for many people, Cape Verde really starts with music, but now they can also discover our Athletes , our culture, our resilience, our talents, our ambition as well.
I mean, "Ambition is something many Cape Verdeans have had to wrestle with. When you come from a small country, its size can sometimes shape the size of your dreams.
I hope our national team's Cinderella run at the World Cup changes that. I hope it expands what young Cape Verdeans believe is possible for themselves and gives us a new standard for how boldly we dream.
Beyond football, I hope this journey inspires people to discover Cape Verde more deeply. Our culture holds an incredible richness, and the human experience here is unlike anywhere else. That's something I'm immensely proud of."
I've lived in several countries since I was six years old. I've experienced Cape Verde as a child, as a teenager and now as an adult looking back on those experiences from different places in the world.
Being able to understand Cape Verde both from within and from afar has shaped everything I create.
It has deepened my appreciation for my own culture while making me open to others. I've always been curious about different sounds, different traditions and different ways of seeing the world.
I've always believed music is a gift from God, and I've known for a long time that I wasn't here simply to repeat what already existed in Cape Verdean music. My journey has been about discovering what my own voice can contribute to that tradition.
Every album, every performance and every stage of my personal growth changes how I understand creativity. It's rooted in where I come from, but it's also a deeply personal journey.
Without question.
The rhythm of our Creole language is probably the strongest influence on my music. The way we express emotion, history and identity through Creole has its own musicality. It's a beautiful language, and that naturally shapes how I write and sing.
Then there are traditional instruments like the ferrinho, which is central to funaná. One of the things I'm most proud of is introducing that sound into contexts beyond traditional funaná groups and blending it with other musical worlds.
I also love working with the txabeta, the percussion used in batuque, where women sit together in circles creating rich, polyrhythmic rhythms. That sound has stayed with me since childhood.
The Cape Verdean cavaquinho is another instrument that's deeply connected to my identity. Even if I hear only the guitar for a few seconds, I can recognise whether it's Cape Verdean, Brazilian or Cuban. Our musicians have a very distinct musical fingerprint.
I always try to carry that identity into my music, no matter how experimental the production becomes.
At the same time, I never want my roots to become a limitation. They should be a foundation, not a boundary.
Like so many Cape Verdeans, I feel a responsibility to represent where I come from because, for so long, the world didn't know we existed.
I remember being asked to point to Cape Verde on classroom maps as a child, only to discover it wasn't even printed. Experiences like that stay with you. They shape how you move through the world, and they remind you why representation matters.
"My roots are my foundation, but they should never become my limits."
Absolutely.
Our language is one of the strongest expressions of who we are.
It's also what keeps Cape Verde connected across the world.
Cape Verdeans in the United States might speak English and Creole. Those in Portugal speak Portuguese and Creole. In France, it's French and Creole. In the Netherlands, it's Dutch and Creole.
Creole really is what unites us all.
No matter where we live, it reminds us that we're part of the same story.
That's why preserving the language isn't just about communication. It's about preserving identity, memory and belonging.
It's been a very conscious evolution.
Everything really shifted around the release of Manga. I wanted the visual world to reflect the music and, more importantly, the person I had become.
I've never been interested in following trends simply because they're fashionable. What attracts me is style, elegance and comfort. I want to feel feminine, powerful and completely at ease in what I'm wearing.
Where I come from, fashion wasn't traditionally part of conversations around music. But over the years I've come to appreciate how much clothing can communicate before you even sing a note.
I enjoy discovering pieces that tell stories, celebrate craftsmanship and carry a sense of history. Fashion has become another language for expressing emotion. It amplifies the mood of the music, but it also reveals another layer of who I am.
Absolutely.
Our weaving traditions and embroidery are incredibly beautiful and deserve much more global recognition. Many of those techniques have roots that connect us to West Africa, particularly Guinea-Bissau, and they're part of a rich cultural heritage that's slowly becoming rarer.
One designer doing remarkable work in preserving that tradition is Angela Brito. She has lived in Brazil for more than two decades and became the first Black female designer to earn a place on the São Paulo Fashion Week calendar.
Every year she returns to Cape Verde to draw inspiration from its people, landscapes and traditions, incorporating local craftsmanship into her collections in a way that feels contemporary while remaining deeply respectful of its origins.
She's helping tell another side of Cape Verde's story—one that's rooted in craftsmanship, artistry and cultural memory.
I've always been a very private person.
I grew up in the public eye, so learning how to protect parts of myself became necessary. I was fortunate to begin my career before social media completely transformed the relationship between artists and audiences. There was more space to discover yourself without constantly performing your life online.
At the same time, social media has created incredible opportunities to connect directly with people who listen to your music.
One thing that always makes me smile is how surprised people are when they meet me.
They often tell me, "You're much funnier than I expected."
Because I protect my personal life, I think some people imagine I'm distant or reserved. But in reality I'm warm, I love people and I genuinely enjoy connecting with others.
The things that matter most, though, have always come across in my music.
Freedom has always been essential to me. Integrity has always been non-negotiable.
When I look back at my catalogue, what makes me proud isn't success or recognition—it's knowing every song was honest.
I love the fact that music allows complete strangers to feel closer to one another. It's one of the greatest gifts I've ever received, and I never take that for granted.
Whatever people misunderstood about me ten years ago, there's still time for them to understand it. I'm still growing. I'm still changing.
That's part of being human.
"Freedom has always mattered more to me than perfection. Integrity has always mattered more than success."
ReEncanto arrived at one of the most transformative periods of my life.
I conceived the project while I was pregnant, and by the time we recorded it my daughter was just five months old. I was exclusively breastfeeding while touring around the world, so it was both physically demanding and spiritually profound. That project reconnected me with something much deeper inside myself. I realised the songs had grown alongside me.
Motherhood changed my voice, not just physically, but emotionally. Songs I'd written twenty years earlier suddenly carried new meaning because I was singing them through completely different life experiences.That made me incredibly proud.
I've always believed that recording an album is only the beginning. You spend months, sometimes years, performing those songs before you truly understand them. By the end of a tour, the music has evolved. Your relationship with it has changed.
ReEncanto gave me the opportunity to tell those stories again with a new voice. That's really what the title means to me.
A re-enchantment.
A rediscovery.
Not only of the songs, but of myself. It's rediscovering my own voice and rediscovering my own songs and, and feed from them, which was really a beautiful, beautiful experience to do
I've always thought of genres as languages.
Just as you can move between different spoken languages in a conversation, music allows you to move between different sonic worlds without losing your identity.
Genres help people organise music, but they don't define how I create.
That said, I still feel a responsibility to honour the traditions of Cape Verdean music. Sometimes I'll consciously say, "This is a funaná," or, "This is a batuque," because our musical heritage is still being discovered by much of the world.
We're still writing new chapters for these genres.
I've never been overly interested in analysing exactly where every influence comes from. I absorb what moves me, it becomes part of me, and something personal comes out the other side.
That's the creative process.
I'm entering this new chapter with much less fear.
Motherhood has changed me. It teaches you how powerful you really are. It also teaches you to trust yourself.
Maturity brings a different kind of freedom. You realise you don't have to explain yourself all the time. You don't have to please everyone. You simply have to create work that feels honest.
That's what I'm chasing now.
I want to experiment more. I want to keep discovering sounds that feel closer to who I am today, while continuing to honour where I come from.
Every project asks the same question: What do I want to leave behind?
Especially in a world that often feels uncertain, I want my music to offer something lasting—something rooted in beauty, curiosity and hope.
This year is about renewal.
It's about writing.
It's about building.
It's about beginning again.
And I genuinely believe the next album will be the best work I've ever made.
Listening to Mayra Andrade speak, it becomes clear that Cape Verde's extraordinary World Cup story is only one chapter in a much longer narrative. Long before football drew the world's attention to the archipelago, artists like Andrade had been carrying its language, traditions and imagination across continents, quietly reshaping how people understood a nation many once struggled to locate on a map.
Today, that story is being told on a much bigger stage.
For Andrade, the moment isn't about proving Cape Verde belongs. It's about celebrating what has always been there: a culture defined by resilience, creativity and an unwavering sense of identity.
If the world has finally arrived at Cape Verde's doorstep, its artists have been preparing the welcome for decades.
Ruth B has been making intimate music since before the platforms existed to carry it. Born in Edmonton to Ethiopian parents, she built her career on Vine with nothing but a piano and an instinct for honesty that has never quite left her - not through "Lost Boy" going platinum, not through "Dandelions" crossing 6.2 billion streams on TikTok years after its release, not through a surprise appearance at Barclays Center with Rod Wave that reminded an entirely new audience exactly who wrote the song they had been singing. Her new single "Didn't I" is out now. Her album Peace To Make arrives August 21. Ahead of its release, we spoke about writing music that outlives the moment it was made for, what it means to evolve without losing the thread, and what peace actually looks like when you finally find it.
Hello
Hi. How’s it going?
Fine. I’m great. How are you?
For anyone reading this and discovering you for the first time, how would you introduce yourself and what you do?
I would introduce myself as Ruth. I'm a singer, songwriter from Alberta, Canada.
"Dandelions" went viral years after it was released, on a platform that didn't even exist when you wrote it. What does it feel like to watch a song you wrote in one emotional state become the soundtrack to millions of strangers' completely different moments, years later?
It was absolutely incredible. It did kind of happen years after I had released the song, so it was totally crazy to see. I'm so thankful for TikTok for being able to spread it to the masses. I still love watching people's videos making use of the song.
You're Ethiopian, raised in Edmonton, and your sound draws from a very specific kind of intimate, diary-style songwriting. How much of that vulnerability comes from growing up between two cultures, and how much of it is just who you are regardless of where you're from?
I think that's such a priority for me, to make sure that it's all about the lyrics and story. A lot draws from my upbringing and my life in Canada, the simplicity and complexity of that, and the journey that I went on years later to do music. I think all of it plays a part in the vulnerability in my music.
The Barclays Center moment with Rod Wave was a surprise. What did it feel like to stand on a stage built around a song you wrote years ago, now belonging to a completely different audience that found it through someone else?
That was incredible. It was definitely the biggest crowd I'd ever played for. I wrote that song ten years ago about a whole different life I was living at that point, to see it come to life like that years later in such an iconic moment with Rod - it was absolutely unbelievable. It's one of my favourite memories.
Peace To Make is a title that suggests resolution, or at least the pursuit of it. What's the actual peace you were trying to make while writing this album?
The common thread between all the songs on the album is that they all kind of have a question mark - they're yearning for peace, or answers, stability, whatever you want to call it. That's the ultimate message of the album: trying to make peace with things. And ultimately, in the end, I do make peace with it.
When people discover you through "Dandelions" on TikTok, then go back and find "Lost Boy" from 2014, what do you hope they hear in the distance between those two songs? What's actually changed in you as a writer?
As a writer, it's kind of the same thing as evolving as a person - we grow, we learn. I have definitely evolved a lot and my writing has become so much better, and you can hear that in the music now. But I think it's similar in the sense that it's still very honest, lyric-driven, piano-driven, vulnerable music. I never want to get lost in the sauce and become overproduced. My goal is to continue to make intimate music.
"Didn't I" is your first single since this resurgence. Did knowing that "Mixed Signals" had just found new life through Rod Wave change how you approached writing for this new chapter, or did you deliberately try to separate the two?
I don't think I deliberately tried to separate the two. I just wanted to make a bridge between my first and second album and this album. I still wanted to keep it piano-focused, like "Mixed Signals" and like my first album, but just kind of evolve the production and evolve the writing as well.
"Lost Boy" started on Vine, basically the opposite of how artists are taught to build a career today. Looking back, do you think that accidental, unpolished beginning gave you something a more deliberate rollout never could have?
Definitely. The whole process of being on Vine and on the internet kind of taught me how to self-write, produce and create - it built an independence in me. Adding a team was like a major bonus versus a necessity. I think I'm very lucky. My roots definitely push me to be as creative as I can be.
Six JUNO nominations, one win, billions of streams. Is there a specific moment in this entire run where you actually felt like you'd arrived, or does that feeling keep moving further away the more you achieve?
I think it is constantly moving. In those moments, I feel such gratitude and it always blows me away. This was always my wildest dream as a kid, to have certain accolades. It still doesn't feel real, but I think your goals are ever-evolving and ever-changing.
"28" with Dean Lewis crossed 188 million streams. What does a successful collaboration actually require from you as a songwriter, versus what you need when you're writing entirely alone?
I think with collaboration, most importantly, I really want to feel connected with the person I'm working with. Music and songwriting is a personal thing for me - it's kind of hard to open up. If I can work with someone that I feel is like a friend, someone I get to know outside of the studio, that definitely helps me with that process.
As we wrap up, what would you like to say to the people who've stayed with you through all of this, and what should they be excited about next?
I want to say how thankful and how grateful I am for them. I know everyone says it, but I do mean it. I never take for granted the people who give me the opportunity to continue to make music. I just want them to be excited for my album coming out August 21st. I have worked so hard on this music and I hope that they leave it feeling empowered and just a little bit lighter
If you’re still looking for the playlist to lighten your summer, look no further! We have compiled our favourite new artists from the continent and beyond who are currently killing it in the music scene. Not only are those acts up-and-coming, but they have proven themselves to be promising new voices, bringing forth a unique sonic soundscape we haven’t heard before. Whether it is Bongology, Moroccan Gwana, or Jamaican Dancehall, they have distinctly fused their sound with household names such as Neo Soul, Konpa, and so much more.
Deeds Magazine has compiled the discovery list you do not want to miss. Unless you haven’t heard them throughout Fête de La Musique or on social media, this is the perfect opportunity for you to learn about them before they get big and it is too late.
Ché Mario is a South-African Jamaican emerging musician from North West London with a touch of golden riddim. Produced by yo Caleb!, “U Da Cake,” which catapulted online through a breathtaking cypher, has since become a club anthem everyone can’t stop vibing to. Its unique Dancehall and modern electronic vocals make him a feared component in his league. Co-signed by Nigerian sweetheart Ayra Starr, its reach has only garnered greater heights, making Ché Mario a new artist everyone should absolutely pay close attention to.
(D) Juno
(D) Juno is a Congolese-French emerging singer who has taken the Parisian streets by storm. Ever since she dropped her Bongo classic “BB Bringue,” everybody just can not get enough of her. Produced by Panafriqana, a member of the Bongology collective, the song first appeared on socials as a teaser before exploding into stardom, surpassing 1 million Spotify streams as of late. Co-signed by the likes of Theodora, the single has only become bigger since its release. We would advise you to keep an eye on her.
Ino Casablanca is a Moroccan-French artist who knows no sonic limitations. Truth be told, the starlet has been grinding for years. It is his 2025 hit single; however, “DIMA RAVE” sparked an interest among global listeners and is being played throughout this summer. Often nicknamed the French Bad Bunny, Ino’s music style takes a nudge at his Moroccan roots, Spanish background, and French inheritance. For most, this is their first impression of Gwana, mixed with Caribbean sounds and so much more. Ino is someone you can’t look away from.
Pz
Pz is a Senegambian vocalist from Atlanta who is just one of the most exciting new rockstars to come out recently. His latest project, “No Turning Back,” has everybody watching with excitement, including Opium king Playboi Carti, who has co-signed him numerous times. Often interpreted as avant-garde, his experimental trap sound is the new talk of the town, spreading throughout cool kids' Gen Z circles and fashion scenes. Pz is definitely destined for greatness.
Solana is a Nigerian singer-songwriter where Yoruba traditions meet the new wave. Her song “Okunkun,” through its tasteful visuals and alternative sound, has garnered massive attention since its official release. She almost feels familiar yet different, encapsulating a rhythm uniquely hers. There is no one like her right now.
It seems like every other week, there is a new artist coming out of the shadows of the internet, but only a few manage to persist and remain on our playlist. Not only have those emerging acts maintained relevance, but they also offer something new to the table, only growing into the hearts of global listeners. It is too early to determine where their artistry may go from here; however, one thing is sure: we’re expecting the most gut-wrenching bangers to continue to wreck our speakers all summer.
With the heatwave in full swing, this summer is shaping up to be hot as is African music. While Afrobeats and Amapiano continue to dominate playlists and festivals stages around the world, some of the continent's biggest artists are preparing to either release new albums or build on projects that have already sparked a conversation.
From South Africa’s Tyla entering her sophomore era to Davido’s promise of a return to his signature sound, here’s a look at some of the releases fans should have on their radar.
After introducing herself to the world with her Grammy-winning breakout era and the global success of ‘Tyla,’ the South African star is ready for the next chapter. Her sophomore album, ‘A*Pop,’ has been positioned as a more mature evolution of her sound, blending amapiano, pop and R&B while showcasing how much she has grown since the "Water" days to become one of Africa's biggest crossover stars. The record album arrives upon enormous expectation with a rollout that already includes the hit singles ‘Chanel’ and ‘She Did It Again’ featuring Zara Larsson, signalling a project that leans confidently into a mainstream sound without abandoning the South African influences that first made her stand out.
Davido’s Album Announcement Trailer | Courtesy of Davido’s Youtube
Just a year after ‘5ive,’ Davido isn't slowing down. His sixth studio album, Oriadé (a Yoruba portmanteau for "ori" meaning head/destiny and "adé" meaning crown) arrives at the tail end of the month–preceded by a lead single, ‘I Know Who I Be,’–as the Nigerian superstar celebrates 15 years in music. The Grammy-Nominated artist has described the project as a return to the African sound that first made him a household name. At 13 tracks, it will also be his shortest studio album to date. Expectations are naturally high following his previous, which produced the hit ‘With You’ featuring Omah Lay and earned a nod from the Recording Academy.
Following ‘The Year I Turned 21,’ Ayra Starr’s upcoming LP ‘Starr Girl' promises an even broader sonic palette. The rollout has already included singles such as ‘Tornado’ and ‘Where Do We Go’, while previous releases including ‘Gimme Dat’ featuring Wizkid and ‘Who's Dat Girl’ with Rema have fuelled anticipation.
Between her Roc Nation partnership, expanding global collaborations with reports suggesting features with Doechii, Leon Thomas and Zayn, and increasingly adventurous production choices on the new record–all which could mark another major leap in her already impressive career–underlining ‘Sabi Girl's’ increasingly international ambitions.
French-Congolese artist, Tiakola also has his next studio album, ‘WPOINTM,’ confirmed. The hitmaker is expected to build on the melodic rap and R&B sound that has seen him featured on Asake's ‘M$NEY’ and Wizkid's latest, in addition to being one of Europe's most exciting artists, with fans already counting down to the release. In the meantime, read our 2022 Deeds cover story with Tiakola for a closer look at the artist behind the music before this next era begins.
Wizkid – Sexy (TBA)
A new era from Wizkid might be near as well. During an exclusive pre-release event hosted by Deeds in Paris last week, the Afrobeats superstar revealed that his seventh studio album will be titled ‘Sexy,’ ending months of speculation about what would follow 2024's ‘Morayo.’ While he stopped short of confirming a release date, the announcement immediately sparked excitement among fans eager for his next full-length project. With little known about it beyond its title, it is certainly one of the most anticipated African releases still expected before the end of the year.
Following the success of his 2025 album ‘No Sign of Weakness’ Burna Boy has already set the stage for his next era, confirming that a new project is expected before the end of 2026 alongside a major global tour. While details around the album remain under wraps, anticipation is high after a year that has seen the Grammy-winning artist continue expanding his international reach.
Part of that momentum comes from his prominent role in the 2026 FIFA World Cup soundtrack. Burna Boy teamed up with Shakira on ‘Dai Dai,’ the tournament's official song, which premiered during the opening ceremony in Mexico City and introduced his music to one of the world's biggest sporting audiences. With a new album on the horizon and another blockbuster global collaboration under his belt, fans will be watching closely to see where the self-proclaimed African Giant takes his sound next.
With confirmed releases from Tyla, Davido and Ayra Starr still to come–and highly anticipated albums from Wizkid and Burna Boy expected later this year; ‘26 is shaping up to be another landmark year for African music on the global stage.
To be a part of the crowd at Bad Bunny’s DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS World Tour as part of his London stop playing to a sold out crowd at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium was to witness something truly special. It should come as no surprise that the Puerto Rican superstar put on a show that surpassed any sort of expectation anybody would have seeing him live. The sneak peaks given from his 2 month No Me Quiero Ir de Aquí Puerto Rican Residency which took place last year and then again earlier this year as part of his incredible Super-Bowl Halftime Show performance indicated that this tour was going to be worth attending and a show not missing.
In support of his latest GRAMMY Award winning album DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS he came out and brought the album to life in a way that was exceptional and then some. The show which ran for a total of 3 hours felt more of a party and celebration than something which had been crafted specifically for the show. Yet there was an intentionality behind the whole show and everything he brought.
Beginning the show on the main stage donning a suit which considering the previous heatwave that has swept across Europe was a brave move. He was accompanied by his Salsa band behind him, one of the many displays of his cultural heritage he brought to the show. Not to mention the strong musicianship that each of the players brought to stage.
There was something to be said about the fact throughout the entire show he only spoke in Spanish and even though most of the crowd would’ve been Spanish speaking even for those who weren't there was nothing that felt disconnected as you could very much feel and hear the sentiment as to what was being said. For the reality of him being a boy coming from Puerto Rico and finding himself on stadium shows around the world it was very clear that that moment and this particular moment in his career is one for the books. The album which is so clearly rooted in his love for Puerto Rico and the cultural heritage it has brought to his artistry and his fans not only locally but internationally across the world. The show was a beautiful display of that and felt like the witness of a moment that will forever be significant to his career.
The setlist was also a strong display of the catalogue of music he has built throughout his career since his almost decade long appearance with the release of his debut album back in 2018. Whilst the show was heavily consistent with tracks off DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS he brought out favourites and other songs from his catalogue. Crafting the show from start to finish there was rarely a moment to sit down and take a break as the energy rose from start to finish. Starting on the main stage which set the introduction of the vibes. The show began with LA MuDANZA off the album before going into a Salsa version of “Callaíta” he was also joined by opening act Chuwi for their collaborative track “WELTiTA” which they had previously played during their own headline show that took place on Friday night. Giving an ode to their surroundings They played Wonderwall by Oasis as an instrumental on the Cuatro before going into to TURiSTA. Plenty of favourites had their time on the setlist including BAILE INoLVIDABLE, NUEVAYoL, VeLDÁ, VOY A LLeVARTE PA PR and of course the standout song DtMF. Also bringing through his other fan favourites was “ LA CANCION" off his joint project with J Balvin, Ni bien ni mal which was an exclusive for this show. DÁKITI and even had a guest appearance by Blur and Gorillaz man Damon who joined him on the piano for Tormenta and Clint Eastwood. Even with the show that ran for 2 hours and 45 minutes tracks that were missed meant it could have kept going for longer.
The production and everything that accompanied the music only served to enhance the experience as well. Before fans entered the stadium those that arrived when doors opened were given a piece of memorabilia which was a cut out of a camera fitted with a light that served as the flash on a lanyard which lit up at various points throughout the show. Not the mention the dancers who also accompanied him on stage. His second stage which also known as “La Caista” and is a full scale pink replica of a traditional working class Puerto Rican home also brought that flare as a space which housed VIPs and fans who were immersed within the show with him performing among them as he stunted in a full Adidas hoodie and shorts combination and using its roof as another stage.
One thing that is evident and prominent is the connection that he has to his fans. As well as being immersed within them he also took the time to greet those that were at the barriers and not just just giving quickfire interactions but holding a meaningful connection that clearly meant something. By way of translation he addressed the crowd many times throughout the show expressing his love and gratitude and speaking about uplifting each other living in the moment, loving each other and ourselves. As well as embracing and enjoying the moments of life and creating memories and moments which captures the essence of the themes and messages addressed on the album.
As this moment stands with the release of the album and all that followed by way of the residency, winning the GRAMMY for Album of the Year, a historic Super Bowl Half-time Show and now the DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS World Tour. It truly does feel like this is a special and significant moment in his career. And as crowds cheered Benito following DtMF he was visibly emotional and taken in with all the love he received from the crowd. Bad Bunny is truly in a league of his own and best believe we will be present the next time he touches down in the UK which hopefully won't be for too long.
CREDIT ERIC ROJAS
Credit: Cassidy Velmech
Wizkid has confirmed the title of his seventh studio album as Sexy. This was announced to a room full of music and culture’s brightest and biggest stars during an exclusive pre-release party hosted by Deeds Magazine at Cova Club in Paris on Thursday, June 25.
The Grammy-winning singer, born Ayodeji Balogun, took to the mic himself to break the news. “Paris, let me hear you say ‘yeah yeah.’ Yeah, we got the new album coming out,” he told the crowd. “Real soon, and the name of the album is ‘Sexy,’ baby.” No release date or tracklist has been confirmed. The reveal followed weeks of speculation after Wizkid posted a single cryptic word on X - “Album” - alongside studio photos taken with Pharrell Williams in France.
The Paris event, part of Deeds’ Fashion Week takeover, drew a packed room of heavy-hitters from the world of music, culture, and sports including Shallipopi, Alvin Kamara, Quavo, Blaqbonez, Musa Keys, Young Jonn, Tiakola, Pasuma, Smallgod, BabyDaiz, Baby Wacko, and many more. Despite being billed as an album listening party, attendees reportedly heard no new music from Sexy itself - Wizkid spent much of the night dancing to older records, including a moment vibing alongside Shallipopi to the rapper’s hit “Laho.” One fan summed up the mood online: “Only Wizkid will do an album listening party where no songs on the album are played or listened to. Lmao, he’s still as unserious as ever.”
Fans have already begun theorising about the album’s direction based on the title alone. Several pointed to a possible R&B turn, while others connected the reveal to a line Ayra Starr dropped during her press run for their collaboration ‘Gimme Dat,’ when she crowned Wizkid “the king of sexy Afrobeats.” That nickname now reads less like a compliment and more like a preview.
Sexy will be Wizkid’s seventh studio album, following ‘Morayo’ (2024), which honoured his late mother Jane Dolapo Balogun. His catalogue spans ‘Superstar’ (2011), ‘Ayo’ (2014), ‘Sound From The Other Side’ (2017), ‘Made In Lagos’ (2020) and ‘More Love, Less Ego’ (2022). The announcement arrives during a milestone year for the singer, who is marking 15 years since his breakout and will headline Afro+ Fest in Washington, D.C. this September to commemorate the anniversary.
Credit: Cassidy Velmech
IG: @sophiannadozie
Few artists have had a front-row seat to Afrobeats' global rise quite like Wizkid. Fewer still can claim to have helped engineer it. Over the last fifteen years, the Lagos-born artist has evolved from a teenage sensation into one of the most influential figures in contemporary music, building a career defined by chart-topping records, sold-out arenas, industry accolades, and cultural milestones that have helped reshape perceptions of African music worldwide.
What began with local radio hits and regional acclaim eventually became something much larger. Alongside a generation of African artists pushing the genre forward, Wizkid emerged as one of the defining faces of Afrobeats' international breakthrough, helping carry sounds born in Lagos to audiences across Europe, North America, Asia, and beyond.
Today, his legacy extends far beyond streaming numbers or chart positions. It can be found in the global appetite for African music, the doors opened for younger artists, and the growing recognition of Afrobeats as one of the defining musical movements of the 21st century.
Ahead of our upcoming album pre-release listening experience in Paris, we revisit the milestones, records, and defining moments that have shaped Wizkid's remarkable rise and cemented his place among music's most important global stars.
When ‘Superstar’ arrived in 2011, Nigerian music was entering a period of rapid transformation. The country's pop scene was becoming increasingly ambitious, driven by a generation of artists determined to create music that could compete on an international level while remaining distinctly African.
At just twenty years old, Wizkid found himself at the center of that movement. The album produced a string of defining records, including ‘Holla At Your Boy,’ ‘Pakurumo,’ ‘Don't Dull,’ and ‘Tease Me,’ songs that quickly became staples across radio stations, clubs, and university campuses throughout Africa. More importantly, Superstar introduced listeners to an artist whose instincts extended beyond conventional pop stardom.
His ability to blend Nigerian influences with contemporary R&B, dancehall, and pop created a sound that felt both local and globally accessible. That balance would later become one of the defining characteristics of Afrobeats' international appeal. For many fans, Superstar was simply the arrival of a promising young artist. In hindsight, it was the foundation of a career that would help redefine African music's place within global culture.
Still on the rise, ‘Ojuelegba,’ is perhaps Wizkid’s career’s turning point. Released on his self-titled 2014 LP, ‘Ayo,’ the song reflected on his journey through one of Lagos' most recognizable neighborhoods, documenting ambition, struggle and perseverance with a level of vulnerability that distinguished it from many contemporary hits.
The record resonated deeply throughout Africa, but its influence soon expanded far beyond the continent. After attracting the attention of British grime star Skepta and eventually Drake, 'Ojuelegba’ received an official remix that introduced Wizkid to a wider international audience. Its significance cannot be measured solely through streams or chart positions. The song became one of the earliest modern Afrobeats records to demonstrate that African music could travel globally without abandoning its cultural identity. Rather than adapting himself for international audiences, Wizkid watched international audiences adapt to him.
Looking back, ‘Ojuelegba’ represented more than a successful single. It served as a bridge between regional stardom and global recognition, helping establish a pathway that countless African artists would later follow.
Come 2016, and ‘One Dance’ dominates. The Drake global smash featuring Wizkid and Kyla became one of the defining songs of the streaming era. The record topped charts across multiple countries and ultimately became the first song in Spotify history to surpass one billion streams. For Wizkid, the collaboration represented a dramatic shift in visibility. Audiences who had never encountered Afrobeats suddenly found themselves dancing to rhythms and melodies rooted in African music traditions. What made the achievement particularly significant was that the song's success wasn't framed as a niche cultural moment–it was mainstream popular culture at its absolute peak.
The industry's response was immediate. Major labels increased their investment in African talent. International media outlets began paying closer attention to Afrobeats. New audiences became curious about the artists shaping the genre's future. Nearly a decade later, the ripple effects of the hit remain impossible to ignore.
The momentum generated by 'Ojuelegba' and 'One Dance' eventually led to Wizkid signing a landmark global deal with RCA Records, positioning him among the first African artists to secure major-label backing on that scale.
As Wizkid's profile continued to grow, so did the scale of his collaborations. Over the years, he has worked alongside some of the biggest names in music, including Beyoncé, Chris Brown, H.E.R., Justin Bieber, Skepta, Ella Mai, Brent Faiyaz and more. Yet what makes these collaborations notable isn't simply the star power involved. It's the fact that Wizkid managed to maintain his artistic identity throughout them.
His involvement in Beyoncé's ‘The Lion King: The Gift’ project marked a particularly important milestone. ‘Brown Skin Girl’ won Best Music Video at the 63rd Grammy Awards, earning Wizkid his first Grammy and further cementing his position on the global stage. The achievement reflected a broader shift taking place within global music. African artists were no longer being invited into international conversations as occasional guests. They had become central contributors shaping the direction of contemporary popular culture.
While Wizkid had already achieved international success, ‘Made in Lagos’ elevated him into an entirely different category. Released in 2020, the album arrived during a period of global uncertainty and quickly established itself as one of the defining projects of the decade. Built around understated production, rich melodies, and a refined sense of confidence, it showcased an artist operating at the height of his creative powers.
At the center of its success was ‘Essence,’ featuring Tems, the song evolved from a fan favorite into a genuine global phenomenon. Its rise felt organic, fueled by listener enthusiasm rather than traditional industry machinery. Eventually, it became the first Nigerian song to reach the Billboard Hot 100 Top 10, helping introduce Afrobeats to audiences on an unprecedented scale. More importantly, the track changed perceptions by demonstrating that African music didn't need to conform to existing industry expectations to achieve mainstream success. Instead, the industry was beginning to adapt to Africa. The album also became one of the longest-charting African projects in Billboard history, further demonstrating Afrobeats' growing commercial power outside the continent.
Streaming success tells one story. Live performance tells another. Throughout his career, Wizkid has repeatedly demonstrated an ability to convert popularity into real-world audience demand. From selling out London's Royal Albert Hall to becoming the first African artist to headline three consecutive nights at the O2 Arena, his live achievements have consistently expanded expectations surrounding African artists.
In 2023, he reached another historic milestone when he became the first African artist to headline Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in London. The significance of the moment extended beyond attendance figures. Stadium performances occupy a different category of live entertainment altogether, reserved for artists capable of mobilizing massive audiences across countries, demographics and generations. By reaching that level, Wizkid wasn't simply breaking records. He was redefining what was possible for African performers on the global stage.
More than a decade after his breakthrough, Wizkid's influence extends far beyond music. His career helped create pathways for a new generation of African artists seeking global audiences. He demonstrated that international success did not require abandoning local identity. He proved that music created in Lagos could resonate in London, Los Angeles, Paris, and beyond.
Even as he enters a new chapter, Wizkid continues to evolve. His 2024 album ‘Morayo’ offered one of the most personal projects of his career, revealing a more reflective side of the artist while reinforcing the creative versatility that has defined his longevity.
Today's Afrobeats landscape is larger, more visible, and more commercially powerful than ever before. While many artists contributed to that growth, Wizkid remains one of its most important architects. His achievements can be measured through awards, streams, sold-out venues, and chart records. Yet his greatest accomplishment may be something far less quantifiable. He helped change the way the world listens to Africa–and in doing so, helped reshape the global music landscape itself.
IG:@_stanleykilonzo
Cover Credit: Kevin Amato / GQ South Africa
Every year since 1982, on June 21st, the vibrant streets of France come alive, taken over by musicians and DJs alike, with some performing just outside their apartment windows and creating a gathering where everyone is welcome. This phenomena is called Fête de la Musique, also known as FDLM, and it has created a massive cultural hub across the country as a big f*ck you to institutions and bureaucracy within French creative circles, which for a long time, have made it difficult for emerging talents to persevere in the creative industry However, in light of recent editions it’s worth examining if one can still make that claim.
Fête de la Musique was an idea first derived from American musician Joel Cohen in 1976. It was then developed by the Ministry of Culture, which discovered through a 1982 study that 5 million French people, including one in two young people, played a musical instrument. The premise is simple: if you have a musical gift, take it on the street and let the world know what you’re made of.
In recent decades, the event gained extreme popularity among diasporic communities. The gatherings, filled with emerging musicians and rappers, extended to include up and coming Djs trying to make a name for themselves. This, in turn, resulted in many local artists receiving their “big break” in the music industry through the free marketing and exposure Fête de la Musique brings to their communities. One of such artists is Kim, a French-Martinican Zouk and Afropop singer who rose to prominence during the festival in 2004. Guinean-French artist MHD also utilized the traction of the festival to upscale his Afrotrap series, and eventually became France’s national treasure back in 2016. Both of these acts were French locals with a story to tell who came from communities often disregarded by society. For the first time, artists from the banlieue had the opportunity to be discovered and garner an audience by circumventing the music industry politics that made it difficult to reach the masses.
The 2026 edition was arguably the biggest Fête de la Musique we have seen yet, with streets packed to the brim with attendees celebrating under the hard-hitting sun. It is safe to say it has never been this popular. However, the festivities did not come without complaints. The first wave of backlash came before the event started. Locals took to socials to complain about Londoners bringing their sense of excitement, which is fairly different from French culture, with them to FDLM. Regardless of that, most hosts were still welcoming.
The second wave of backlash began due to foreign organizers beginning the festive days earlier than planned. These organizers came with their own lineup, often not including local DJs and artists. This was taken by the locals with mixed reactions. Some expressed shock at the organizations, stating that Londoners were taking over Fête de la Musique, while others credited the organizers for their strategy, stating local organizers should take notes and follow suit. Whether one was for or against the change, it was clear the festive would be overcrowded.
This then hints at the final backlash, Fête de la Musique moving away from what it originally represented. With a lot of investors and established artists taking the stage, it leaves little space for emerging local acts to get involved and noticed. What once felt like an opportunity to discover new artists has visibly shrunken. Arguably, this year had more street parties than ever, and as a result, those who were supposed to receive their big break ended up underwhelmed. Many locals felt like it had begun resembling a commercialized festival, and no longer felt like the street parties many grew up adoring.
Noticeable acts who performed but fell massively under the radar during the 2026 Fête de la Musique were, for example, 63OG, a Cameroon-French rapper with incredible musical range. Another was Jeune Morty, an Ivorian-French new-gen vocalist who had one of the most memorable French bangers of this year with Ivoire Feeling”. Another worth mentioning was (D)Juno, a Congolese-French singer who has done remarkable numbers with her breakout hit BB Bringue”. Some might say they were all overshadowed by the presence of established artists, such as Tayc, Tiakola and Theodora, who performed amongst them.
Like past occurrences, this moment should have been their big break, their rise to stardom, but it seemingly did the opposite. Local artists, emerging musicians, and small-time DJs were not the center of this Fête de la Musique. Instead, established artists, commercialized events, and foreign organizers took over. It left little room for new acts to find a new audience. This is a vast shift from its origins and what FDLM initially intended to do, making participants wonder where the festive is heading in the coming years and whether it still holds a place in the heart of their community.
Credit: Marvyn Ngikila (marvyn_07)
West African music veterans Kajeem, Didier Awadi, and Soum Bill have joined forces on ‘En toute liberté', a new human rights anthem released in partnership with Amnesty International. More than a typical music release, the track forms part of a broader campaign aimed at encouraging civic participation and protecting youth civic spaces across Côte d'Ivoire. Through a combination of digital platforms and university outreach, the initiative positions music not only as a cultural product but as a vehicle for activism, dialogue and collective action.
Backed by the global human rights organization, ‘En toute liberté’--which translates to "In Complete Freedom"--is intended to resonate widely. The artists behind the anthem bring longstanding histories of social engagement to the effort. Kajeem has consistently used reggae as a vehicle for civic awareness and social commentary, while Didier Awadi remains one of West Africa's most influential political hip-hop voices. Alongside them, Soum Bill brings decades of cultural influence in Côte d'Ivoire, helping anchor an initiative that extends beyond the music itself.
Rather than ending on streaming platforms, the campaign will reach university campuses across the country, where discussions around freedom of expression and democratic participation will form part of its broader outreach. The focus on campuses is significant. Across Africa, universities have long served as incubators for political thought, social movements, and cultural change, making them a natural setting for a project that seeks to connect music with civic engagement.
Their collaboration also sits within a much longer tradition of politically conscious music in West Africa. For decades, artists have used songs to educate audiences, challenge authority, and encourage public participation. Fela Kuti transformed Afrobeat into a platform for political critique, while Alpha Blondy and Tiken Jah Fakoly used reggae to address governance, democracy and social justice. In this context, ‘En toute liberté’ is less a departure from tradition than a continuation of it. The anthem reflects the enduring belief that music can do more than entertain–it can inform, mobilize and inspire.
The release arrives at a moment when African music enjoys unprecedented global visibility. Yet while international audiences often encounter the continent's music through entertainment-focused narratives, ‘En toute liberté’ highlights another dimension of its cultural power. Across the region and much of Africa, musicians have long occupied roles that extend beyond performance, acting as educators, commentators, and advocates within their communities. For Kajeem, Didier Awadi, and Soum Bill, the anthem serves as a reminder that music remains not only a soundtrack to social life but also a platform for participation, dialogue and change. In doing so, the project reinforces the enduring relationship between culture and civic engagement, demonstrating how artists continue to use their platforms to encourage reflection, discussion, and action.
IG:@_stanleykilonzo
Cover Image Credit: Amnesty International/Digitafreeka
The 18th edition of The Headies is going to Toronto. The announcement was made on June 15, 2026, at the Grand Ballroom of Eko Hotel in Lagos - which is, ironically, in Nigeria. The ceremony itself will not be. Nigerian fans who want to attend Nigeria’s premier music award will need a visa, a flight, and a hotel room in Canada. Everyone else gets a watch party.
The Headies have earned that weight over twenty years. Established in 2006 as the Hip Hop World Awards, the ceremony has hosted some of Nigerian music’s most unforgettable nights. Olamide remains the most decorated artist in its history with 15 wins. Wizkid, Davido, Burna Boy, Rema, Ayra Starr, Tems and Simi have all built portions of their legacy on that stage - the same artists now filling arenas across Europe and North America, the same artists Canada’s Deputy High Commissioner would later cite as evidence of Nigerian music’s global reach. Wande Coal’s sweep at the 5th edition - Album of the Year, Artist of the Year, R&B Album of the Year, and Hip Hop Revelation of the Year in a single night - is still talked about. The 2015 clash between Olamide and Don Jazzy over the Next Rated category split the internet for weeks. In 2025, Qing Madi became the youngest female artist to win Best Songwriter, accepting the award in tears, dedicating it to her mother watching from home. The same edition carried a posthumous tribute to Mohbad, whose loss in 2023 still sits heavy over an industry that never got to see him fully embraced while he was alive. These are not small footnotes. They are the moments that turned an awards show into a cultural institution - one built, performance by performance, winner by winner, entirely on Nigerian soil.
This is the third time in four editions that ceremony has left that soil. The awards moved to Atlanta in 2022 for two consecutive editions before returning to Lagos in 2025 under the theme “Back to Base.” They are not at base anymore.
Founder Ayo Animashaun cited economics as the primary reason. He drew a direct comparison to the Grammy Awards: “Most of the awards in the world that you see that are big, they have four or five sources of revenue. Here we have only one, everybody talks about sponsorship.” The funding problem is real. The proposed solution is not the right fix.
The Grammys stay in Los Angeles for a specific reason. Animashaun acknowledged this himself: “Grammy left Los Angeles and went to Madison Square in New York because LA was shut down. LA fought to bring Grammy back because it does something to their economy and it is part of their DNA.” That comparison undermines his own decision. Los Angeles understood that the Grammys belonged to the city. The city built the financial relationship that made losing the event unthinkable. Nigeria has not had that conversation yet. The Headies are boarding a flight instead.
The economic argument actually strengthens the case against the decision. A platform that cannot sustain itself financially in Nigeria has an infrastructure problem. Geography does not solve an infrastructure problem. Going to Toronto relocates the funding gap temporarily. The structural issue remains untouched. The same conversation will likely happen again next year, or the year after.
Animashaun also pointed to Nigeria’s large diaspora community in Canada as motivation for the move. That ambition is legitimate on its own terms. Taking Nigerian music to the world and taking Nigerian music away from Nigerians are not the same decision. The Headies has been making the second one while describing it as the first. The Nigerian diaspora in Toronto did not build The Headies. Nigerian fans, Nigerian artists, and the Nigerian industry did - across twenty years, fifteen wins for Olamide, a tearful debut win for Qing Madi, a posthumous tribute for Mohbad. Taking the award abroad to reach a diaspora audience, while the home audience receives a livestream, reads less like expansion. It reads like a concession dressed as strategy.
Canada’s Deputy High Commissioner Carlos Rojas-Arbulu welcomed the decision warmly, noting that Wizkid, Davido, Burna Boy, Olamide, Reekado Banks, Shallipopi, Asake and Ayra Starr had all visited Canada in the past eight months. Nigerian artists touring Canada is not evidence that The Headies belong there. Nigerian artists tour London, Paris, and New York with similar frequency. The Grammys are not hosted in any of those cities either.
Animashaun’s real question should not be which international city offers the most convenient venue. It should be why Nigeria has not made The Headies part of its economic and cultural identity the way Los Angeles did with the Grammys. That conversation belongs with the Lagos State Government, with Nigerian banks, with local corporate sponsors, with the Federal Ministry of Arts and Culture. It is a harder conversation than announcing a Toronto venue from a ballroom in Lagos. It is also the only conversation that solves the actual problem.
The decision has already sparked debate among entertainment followers, many questioning why a Nigerian music award platform keeps relocating outside the country. Those questions deserve answers. An award that repeatedly leaves its home country has failed to convince that country it is worth investing in. The case for keeping The Headies in Nigeria has never needed sentiment. It only ever needed money.
Credit:The Headies Award 18th Edition
“See better song wey AFCON just waste.” That was Paul Ifiora on X, two days into the 2026 FIFA World Cup, reposting the music video for “Le Show” to 892,000 views, 19,000 likes, and a comment section full of people hearing the song for the first time - six months after it dropped.
“Le Show” by Ayra Starr, Davido and French Montana, produced by RedOne, was released in December 2025 as part of the official AFCON 2025 soundtrack. From the opening moments, the record sets a triumphant tone, driven by bold production, infectious rhythms, and a chorus that feels tailor-made for big stages. The recurring phrase “on va commencer le show” meaning “we’re about to start the show”, acts as both a declaration and an invitation. It is celebratory, exciting, and enchanting. It sounds like winning. It sounds, specifically, like a World Cup song.
RedOne, the Moroccan-Swedish producer behind some of the biggest pop records of the last two decades, including the Qatar 2022 World Cup anthem, built “Le Show” with the same architecture. Ayra Starr shines as the emotional and melodic core of the song, her vocals smooth, commanding, and effortlessly catchy. Davido, who is known for his ability to turn any record into a celebration, adds a familiar spark as he delivers his verse with charisma and authority. French Montana bridges the continental and the global. It is a record built for a stage larger than AFCON and it sounds like it. But “Dai Dai” has Shakira and a FIFA marketing budget. “Goals” has LISA, Anitta, and Rema on a global rollout. “Le Show” had AFCON - a tournament that, for all its cultural significance, does not move music the way the World Cup does. The song did not fail. It was under-promoted into obscurity by the infrastructure around it.
This is not an African music problem. It is an entertainment industry truth: the product that gets heard is rarely the best product. It is the best marketed one. “Dai Dai” and “Goals” will soundtrack highlight reels, closing ceremonies, and personal playlists for years. “Le Show” is being discovered on someone’s timeline in June 2026 - six months after it dropped, during a tournament it was never invited to.
That is not the song’s fault.
In a world that rarely slows down, the noise of everyday life can feel overwhelming, and the pressure to perform is constant, finding a genuine sanctuary is a rarity. You cannot simply buy a space to just breathe and be yourself. It has to be intentionally built from the ground up.
Two years ago, a small project called CULTUR FM launched in East London with a precise, urgent argument: the pioneers of Afrobeats and Afro music were being structurally undervalued. Today, CULTUR FM has scaled from a hyper-local passion project into a global cultural platform spanning international cities, communities, and institutions. Yet, its truest metric of success isn't just its massive growth or its sold-out takeovers. It is the fact that it has engineered a pressure-free, authentic safe space for DJs and music lovers alike a sanctuary that has fundamentally altered the trajectory of the culture.
Take us back to the beginning. What gap in music, culture, or community made you realise CULTUR FM needed to exist?
The gap was simple. Most DJs are using the same equipment, CDJs, controllers, and mixers. But it felt like some genres gave DJs a clearer path to visibility, while DJs in Afrobeats and Afro music were not always given the same platform. CULTUR FM was born from the belief that our DJs have the talent, the creativity, and the influence to shape culture at the highest level. What was missing was a space built specifically to showcase them properly. CULTUR FM became that space.
In just two years, CULTUR FM has grown from a passion project into a global cultural platform. What has been the biggest lesson from that journey so far?
The biggest lesson has been that community is everything, and it can't be faked. The growth hasn't come from trying to scale too quickly or chasing moments for the sake of it. It has come from consistently showing up, building trust, and making people feel like they are part of something both online and offline.
CULTUR FM operates across cities, communities, and institutions around the world. How have you managed to scale globally without losing the authenticity that built the brand?
Being clear on who we are and what we represent has helped us grow without losing direction. For us, scaling has never been about taking the exact same experience and dropping it into different cities. Every place has its own culture, its own audience, and its own way of doing things. We try to understand that first, respect it, and then find a natural way to connect it back to the platform. A lot of that comes from research and real relationships with people on the ground. We work with local DJs, creatives, and partners who understand the city properly. That helps us stay close to the community and keeps the brand feeling authentic wherever we go.
You've often said CULTUR FM is about more than music. What cultural legacy are you ultimately trying to build?
We want the platform to be remembered as something that opened doors for DJs. For us, it is about creating opportunities that did not always exist before. DJs in Afrobeats and Afro music have always played a huge role in how the music travels, how songs break, and how people experience the culture. We want that contribution to be recognised properly. Long term, we want to play a part in how Afro music and DJ culture is seen, valued, and respected around the world.
From sold out takeovers to major brand partnerships and support from global figures, what moment made you realise CULTUR FM was becoming something much bigger than you originally imagined?
It was not one single moment. In some ways, we always believed there was space for what we were building. Our music and culture had become so big, but it still felt like there were not enough platforms representing it with the intention it deserved. What surprised us was how quickly people connected with what we were doing. The sold-out events, brand partnerships, and support from different figures have all been amazing, but the moments that stand out most are still the personal ones. When DJs tell us that the platform helped them get seen, get booked, or take their career more seriously, that is when it really hits home. Those moments remind us that the platform is not just growing in numbers it is actually impacting people.
A major part of your success has been turning digital engagement into real world community. What do you think people are truly looking for when they show up to a CULTUR FM experience?
People are looking for connection. They want to feel part of something that feels real, not forced. I think that has always been at the core of the brand. People come because they love the music, but also because they want to be in a safe space where the energy, the people, and the culture all feel connected. Especially in the world today with so much going on, having a restful environment where you can step away from the pressure and just be yourself is entirely priceless. It is something money can't buy, it just has to be intentionally created. Our experiences are curated to feel immersive, energetic, and welcoming. The music is always important, but the feeling in the room matters just as much. People come for the sound, but they stay for the community.
DJs have become a central part of the CULTUR FM ecosystem. How has the platform helped reshape the role of DJs as cultural tastemakers rather than just performers?
We have always been intentional about how we position DJs. To us, DJs are not just people who play music. They are curators and tastemakers. They play a huge role in how songs travel, how records break, and how people experience new sounds. A good DJ can shift the energy of a room, introduce people to music they have never heard before, and help shape the feeling of a whole scene. That deserves to be recognised properly. Through this ecosystem, we have been able to shine a light on that. We have seen DJs grow their audiences, get booked in new cities, and be taken more seriously for the role they already play in the culture. Collectively, the talent we have worked with has gained over 1,000,000 followers, which shows what can happen when DJs are given the right platform.
Partnerships have ranged from grassroots initiatives to global corporations. What does a brand need to understand about culture before CULTUR FM is willing to collaborate with them?
The most important thing for us is authenticity. Culture is not something a brand can just borrow for a campaign. You have to respect it, understand it, and be willing to engage with it properly. For us, the best partnerships are with brands that want to add value, not just take from the community. We look for partners who understand what the movement represents and are willing to work with the culture in a way that feels natural, considered, and respectful.
With the two year anniversary approaching, what excites you most about the next chapter of CULTUR FM, and where do you see the movement five years from now?
What excites us most is that it still feels like we are only getting started. In two years, the brand has grown from a small idea in East London into a platform that has travelled to different cities and connected with people around the world. That growth has been amazing, but it also feels like there is still so much more to build. The next chapter is about expanding into more cities, creating more opportunities for DJs, and building experiences that bring people closer to the culture. In five years, we want to be one of the leading platforms for Afro music, DJ culture, and cultural experiences globally.
Somewhere on TikTok right now, someone is doing the ‘Copines’ dance. The choreography is precise, and the “bombarder, bom bom” chorus plays underneath it all. In the comments, the same questions “What is this song? Who sings this?” keep appearing.
“Copines”, French for “girlfriends”, was released in August 2018 as the second single from Aya Nakamura’s breakthrough sophomore album Nakamura. Now in 2026, the “2020 vs 2026” comparison trend is all over TikTok with a new generation recreating the original choreography alongside a new version, keeping the song alive without knowing its history. This is not the first time “Copines” has come back. It will not be the last.
The woman behind it has been one of the most significant voices in global music for nearly a decade and she is still, somehow, a name most of her audience cannot place. Aya Nakamura is the first African musician to have a video with over a billion views on YouTube. 'Djadja' became the fourth French-language song to reach that milestone in February 2025. She has also beaten the record held by Édith Piaf since 1961 as the most-listened-to Francophone woman in the Netherlands. She is the most streamed Francophone artist in the world. She has performed at some of the biggest stages in Europe. She has collaborated with artists across continents. And she is, to most of the people currently dancing to her music on TikTok, completely unknown. That is the specific irony of “Copines” and it is worth sitting with.
Born Aya Coco Danioko in Bamako, Mali, and raised in the Paris suburb of Aulnay-sous-Bois, her musical identity sits at the intersection of French urban pop, Afrobeat, R&B and dancehall — a sound resistant to easy categorisation. She released her debut album Journal Intime in 2017, found her footing, and then in 2018 released Nakamura. The album spawned the hit singles “Djadja” and "Copines" and launched her international career.
Released on August 24, 2018, “Copines” peaked at number one in France and achieved Diamond certification. The production is breezy and synth-led. “Copines” is not a love song or a party anthem whose meaning is incidental. It is a woman calling out a man who disrespects his partner by pursuing her friends. The lyrics are direct - you want the best of my girlfriends, you want the freshest, but you have already lost. It is a feminist takedown delivered with complete confidence, in Bambara-inflected French, over a beat that makes the whole world want to move.
The language barrier is partly responsible for this. “Copines” travels because you do not need to understand French to feel it. The melody communicates. The energy communicates. “Bombarder, bom bom” communicates not as meaning but as sensation. And in travelling without translating, the song loses its context to most of its audience.
This is not unique to “Copines”. Songs have always crossed language barriers on the strength of sound alone - “Macarena”, “Gangnam Style”, “Waka Waka”. What makes Nakamura’s case worth examining is the specific content of what gets lost in translation. This is a woman asserting herself, naming the behaviour, and walking away with her dignity intact - a story worth knowing, especially for the millions of women who have been dancing to it without realising it was written for them.
The TikTok trend now has 73.2 million posts and counting. Some are discovering the song for the first time, still asking for the title in the comments. Others are comparing the 2020 choreography to the 2026 version - tracking how the dance evolved alongside the people doing it. And then there are those who are not really dancing at all. They are reliving 2020 - the lockdown, the boredom, the strange collective intimacy of a pandemic that somehow produced one of the most joyful dance trends the internet has ever seen.
“Copines” has survived long enough to outlast the cultural moments that made it go viral, to spawn a second generation of dancers who will eventually spawn a third. Aya Nakamura has made the song of every summer since 2018. The least the internet can do is learn her name.
Cover Credit: Aya Nakumura
London singer-songwriter Essosa brings a different essence to when it comes to the vibe of R&B. And when you listen to her EP Crush! Everything about it brings a bright, colourful vibrancy that is perfectly presented. The EP, which consists of six tracks, brings together production and songs that feel like an ode to the 90s, yet there is a lightness and airiness that travel through her vocal delivery on the project.
Across the six tracks, she channels something somewhat unexpected and refreshing for the songstress. From songs like “Crush” to “Signs” to “He’s Not All That”, she brings a combination of relatability and self-awareness to fun and flirtatious lyrics, striking a balance between the EP's essence and what it represents to her. She is bringing something different to the R&B landscape and represents a different kind of artist in modern R&B.
Speaking to the songstress, we discuss everything from creating the EP to her musical influences, representing her heritage, her upcoming show at London’s Jazz Café, and more.
Hi Essosa, first of all, for those of us who may not be familiar with you, how would you introduce yourself to people who are just meeting you?
As a lover and student of music!! I’ve been a music nerd for as long as I can remember, and I’ve loved creating and discovering new sonics since I was a child. I love the idea of taking inspiration from the old and making it new. I think that's how I really discovered and honed my sound.
You are a singer, and so when did you start singing, and how is music something that you gravitated to?
I started singing, honestly, very young. Most singers have been singing since they were babies, so that's nothing unique. I grew up seeing my mum sing in church, and I always had the personality type to be a performer and share my talent with others.
In terms of your heritage, you are British/Nigeria, so just in terms of your heritage and how it has impacted your musical taste and ability, what has that experience been like for you?
I actually wouldn't say it's impacted or shaped my musical taste; however, my heritage has given me a variety of musical sounds around me at all times. My mother listened to gospel, and my dad listened to a lot of jazz and highlife music growing up. I think growing into a teenager or an adult, it just meant that I always had a varied sonic palette, and that allowed me to gain inspiration from songs/artists that are not necessarily just ‘R’n’B’.
What sort of music did you grow up listening to?
I loved pop music. A lot of Gwen Stefani, Nelly Furtado, Fergie, Rihanna very mid-2000s radio pop. I was obsessed with the radio and would wake up every morning at 6am just to listen to the breakfast show before school. I also loved the ‘Club Classics’ - Show Me Love, Cece Peniston, Crystal Waters, all the club stuff. Disco too, like Diana Ross, Nile Rodgers, etc. Just good music that makes you want to dance and is easily translatable to the masses.
When you started making music, how did you know the type of music you wanted to make?
I kind of always wanted to make music with a pop/radio structure but make it funkier or bring it back to a jazzier, R&B edge. From a very young age, I always had the idea that I was going to make a blend of Pop, dance, R&B, and jazz. It was more about amalgamating sounds that I wasn't hearing on the radio or in mainstream at all; I wanted to have a sonic USP.
You've been making music for a minute now and released your first EP back in 2021. Talk to us about making that EP as your first body of work, and how your music-making process has changed since then?
Well, I was making a lot of demos and producing a lot of beats in school. I would produce these demos and try to find producers to polish them up, but I felt like my creative vision kept getting stamped out. At the time I was working on this, I met a mutual friend, Tibo, who was sending me these Kali Uchis-type beats. I was so discouraged when my demos were tampered with by men who didn't understand my vision. So I scrapped my first project and released Dreamworld, which contained all the work I did with Tibo.
You released your latest EP, Crush!, which is your second EP now, so in terms of this new EP, talk to us about the process of making it and how it came together?
It's kind of similar; I was working on another project and wanted to make music devoid of chords and structure, sounding electronic and abstract. I don’t really know why I was doing this, but I wanted to experiment. Nothing I was making was working, and that’s when I realised that chords are essential to my sound. I was listening to a lot of British soul; Soul II Soul, Incognito, Hinda Hicks, Beverly Knight and then the idea of the sonics of ‘Crush!’ started to come to me.
Your sound is very much rooted in R&B, but there are a lot of elements to it sonically, so even just in terms of how you got to find your sound and develop it for yourself, how has that process been?
I mean, as I said, I love radio, I love pop, dance, house, and I also come from the gospel circuit, so it is less about ‘trying’ to make R&B music and more so bringing all the influences of my childhood together to create a new sound. It takes time, and I’m still working on it, but I’m glad that it connects with people and that I have been able to build a fanbase.
With your latest body of work, what would you say are some of the inspirations behind this EP?
As aforementioned, British Soul, as well as music from early-2000s producers like The Neptunes, Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, Dallas Austin, etc. I love Janet, Kelis and the summery feel they bring to music. I also love Quincy & Michael, so it was genuinely just a big mentoring pot of sounds.
What was your favourite song on the EP to make?
“Missing U!” I wanted to make a song with key changes, like in the old days. We banged out the whole song in one session, and the majority of the original demo made it into the final version.
What does this EP represent about your artistry and where you are in your life right now?
I think I’m becoming more specific with my sound, but I’m also learning how to translate it into this corporate music business world now, so it’s coming across better. All these things are a learning curve. You can have the greatest, most creative ideas and sounds ever, but if you don’t know how to communicate that to the people who are meant to market it, things can fall flat very quickly.
This project is very bright and colourful, with pink as the EP's main colour, both in its association and in the music and vibe. Why was that the essence you wanted to bring to the project?
My sister has synesthesia - I don’t think I do; however, I need to associate certain sonics to a “vibe”. I was feeling super girly, and the songs sounded pink to me. So I went for that vibe; pink, lingerie, feminine, etc.
You are going to be playing the legendary Jazz Cafe in September. Talk to us about that moment and what you are looking forward to about that show?
I remember a couple of years ago, I saw Charli XCX play at the Jazz Cafe, and I was obsessed with the idea of playing there one day. I even moved to Camden right next to it. I feel like it’s something I have been manifesting, so I’m super excited to show people what I got!!!
What else can you tell us, anything else you want to share?
Stream ‘Crush!’ for clear skin & come see me in September :))))
For Mavo and the small, tight-knit team that believed in him before the rest of the world caught on, the now infamous lyric “Hot boxing in the back of the Escaladizzy” became the seed of something none of them could have fully anticipated.
One year ago, “Escaladizzy” dropped on the Nigerian music scene as the work of a young underground artist still finding his footing in an industry that rarely makes room for the unconventional. Within weeks, the track had built up the kind of organic, word-of-mouth traction that labels spend millions trying to manufacture. It took up space inside people’s minds, radio couldn’t get enough, and every few scrolls on social media landed you on the song. However, underneath the streams, features (on the remix starring Ayra Starr, Shallipopi, and Zlatan), and the sudden industry attention something more interesting was brewing. A group of young people who had bet on one person's vision were.
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To celebrate the anniversary of “Escaladizzy”, Deeds Magazine went back to the beginning with Mavo and his team to discuss their most defining moments from that era.
The live performances were probably the most defining moments of that era for me because that's when the scale of it really became impossible to ignore. Seeing crowds know every word, seeing people connect with a song that started from such a specific lived experience was surreal.
A lot of fans still assume we were signed at the time or had major industry backing behind us, but the reality was very different. Most of what people saw was built on genuine belief, favours, relationships, and a group of people who loved the record enough to contribute their time and talent. We invested a lot of our own personal resources into pushing the project because we believed in it.
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After the song went viral on tiktok, we’d wake up everyday and see more people had made videos to the song. At the Even in the Day performance, it was great to see how all of the online buzz translated into real life. It was at that point I realised this won’t be just a viral song, it’ll forever be part of culture.
A lot of people saw the success, the streams, the videos, and the excitement online, but behind the scenes we were still figuring things out in real time. We didn’t have a huge budget. We didn’t have a major label backing us. We didn’t have a machine behind us pushing the record. What we had was a team that believed in Mavo and was willing to do whatever it took to make things happen.
There were days when we were contributing our own money to fund parts of the campaign, trying to balance opportunities with limited resources, and making major decisions while Mavo was still in school. At the same time, the song was growing every day, and the pressure to keep up with that momentum was intense. What stands out to me most is how everyone came together. Nobody waited for someone else to solve the problems. Everybody stepped up. Everybody sacrificed. Everybody believed. That’s what fans probably didn’t get to see.
Looking back now, “Escaladizzy” was more than a hit record. It was a defining moment for the entire team. It tested our belief, our patience, and our ability to adapt under pressure. The song changed Mavo’s career, but it also shaped the people around him and strengthened the foundation we’ve continued to build on ever since. That’s the moment I remember most—not the success itself, but the realization that we were witnessing the beginning of something much bigger than a song.
The element that I’d say that defined the era was marketing. It was the perfect combination of God’s grace, good product, and a good team. Also having a good catalogue was helpful because everything that happened with pushing “Escaladizzy” spilled over to the entire discography. We were so deliberate with how we amplified the momentum. From figuring out the right situation to release the record, to shooting the music video, to doubling down on content to amplify the record & reintroduce fan favorite songs, to the shows (we were making content EVERYDAY! ), to the old Mavo fans schooling the new fans, we put out a dictionary bro lol. I remember getting so many placements on TV & radio with one call, not just because I had the relationships but because it was a great product. We literally strategised and worked every single day since the first snippet spiked on TikTok. It was a great time. It was something fresh the music scene needed. And a lot of gatekeepers didn’t know what to do about it lol.
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Behind the scenes, it was far from glamorous. A lot of those days were built on long nights, rushed edits, travel stress and figuring things out in real time with a small team. We were shooting content on the move, editing in cars and hotel rooms while trying to keep the energy high even when we were exhausted. There was a little uncertainty, but also a strong belief that the song had something special.
For me, the moment that best defines the Escaladizzy era was the day after the snippet started blowing up online. Up until that point, it was just another record we believed in and were working on. Then overnight, it felt like the song had taken on a life of its own. I remember people I knew personally sending me the snippet and talking about it as if they had just discovered something new, without even realizing I was involved. Seeing work that we'd spent so much time on organically reach people outside of our immediate circle was an incredible feeling.
I think that was also the moment I realized Escaladizzy could be something much bigger than we initially imagined. Before then, there was excitement, but there was still a sense that we were taking things one step at a time. Once the snippet started spreading, the conversation changed. People weren't just reacting to the song anymore—they were anticipating it. There was a genuine sense of momentum building around Mavo and the record.
What fans may not know is that even with all that attention, there wasn't some huge machine operating behind the scenes. A lot of us were still figuring things out in real time, trying to make the most of an opportunity that was growing faster than expected. Looking back now, that period feels like a turning point—not just for the song, but for Mavo's career. It was the first time it felt like the wider public was paying attention, and it showed us that something we'd built with a relatively small team could reach far beyond what we thought was possible.
Photo credit : KRL
Home is a place that's completely different if you have to find it twice. For Akuvi it was never in the cards. Raised between Accra and Oslo, she was never quite Ghanaian enough, nor Norwegian enough. She inhabited an identity that wasn't given back to her by either country. In such a case most people are reduced in size. Yet, Akuvi decided to sing. As a student of life, she had acquired more lessons in her early years than most artists do in years. What she still didn't comprehend was the role she would play in the narrative of African music. That answer came accidentally in Johannesburg.
It was in a jam session that something hit home for Akuvi. There she discovered that the introspective neo-soul synths by Jhené Aiko and the Afrobeats rhythms by Davido, which she loved while growing up, weren’t enemies. She merged both sounds together and built her artistic image around it. The trajectory that followed is one that is not off the mark. Akuvi was one of the young women invited to the Forbes Under 30 Summit and Forbes Leading Women Summit, where music intersects culture, influence and currency. She was the headliner at Oslo World Festival, an event which was proof enough that her growing fan base already knew her show would be something different, her music, something to be felt in the human body. She was a tour opener for Shenseea, and featured with Stonebwoy. Billboard Africa and GQ Africa were impressed and so was Disney and Netflix.
Her new EP, Afrobeats for Emotional Gangsters, however, is no celebration of success. It's a rawer, more self-aware account of her experience with heartbreak and the singular pain of watching a cherished thing slowly decay.
Deeds caught up with Akuvi, to discuss Afrobeats for Emotional Gangsters, identity, navigating the industry and what’s keeping her inspired.
For readers discovering you for the first time, who is Akuvi beyond the headlines, streaming numbers and performances? What are the experiences and values that have shaped the artist you’ve become today?
I am a hyper sensitive, deep thinking romantic who loves melancholic Afrobeats and who happens to use music as my outlet for coping with a constant state of overstimulation. I am an explosive entertainer and a philosophical writer who loves to inspire people to embrace their emotions. My love for Afrobeats and alternative R&B were the building blocks of my hybrid genre as the two are a natural choice. I make what I like. My listeners are sexy over thinkers with complex and beautiful backgrounds in Africa and the diaspora. I’m shaped by my family, who are all musicians, as well as my never ending identity crisis with roots in both Norway and Ghana. All my music represents parts of me and my journey. Therefore, you’ll find recurring themes like belonging, purpose, heartbreak and anxiety in my art.
I am an explosive entertainer and a philosophical writer who loves to inspire people to embrace their emotions.
You grew up between Ghana and Norway. How has navigating those worlds influenced the way you see yourself and the stories you choose to tell through music?
Music has always been the only place that truly feels like home. It has always functioned as an embassy for me, whether I’m in Norway, Ghana or South Africa. Music is where I find belonging, inspiration, and an outlet for my inner world. I grew up extremely insecure about the fact that I didn’t really fit in anywhere, as well as my voice being in the deeper register. I know now that it is all my weirdness that makes me interesting and real. Not fitting in is simply an invitation to lead. It also helps that I relocated to the continent (I stayed in South Africa for 5 years and later moved to Ghana). As I am doing afro centric music, it makes a lot of sense to pursue my dreams in Ghana, the roots!
Afrobeats for Emotional Gangsters is a title that immediately grabs attention. What conversations were you hoping to start with this project, and why did now feel like the right time to have them?
I’ve always wanted to nail the type of Afrobeats for lovers who also love R&B, Jazz and Soul. Sometimes I feel misunderstood when I simply say that I make Afrobeats, as the genre is often associated with jolly, fun, feel-good vibes. I’ve realized that my listeners are similar to me, and I want them to feel seen and proud of being sensitive and emotional gangsters. Many people listen to sad music alone, and fun and fierce music in public. With my music you get to shed a tear and whine your waist at the same time. The gangster inserts some sort of pride in being a cryer haha. Furthermore, I feel the title captures the contrast that inherently lives in my recorded music but also my live performances. There is vulnerability but equal amounts of sass and aggression. I want people to embrace what it is to be human, just like how we allow children to switch from crying to smiling within seconds. Feeling is healing. Thirdly, being emotional and admitting it IS gangsta!
I’ve realized that my listeners are similar to me, and I want them to feel seen and proud of being sensitive and emotional gangsters.
The EP explores emotional complexity in a way that feels very intentional. What was happening in your life creatively, personally or emotionally that inspired this body of work?
The EP contains songs I’ve written over the course of the last two years, and reflects some deep pain I had to work through as I went through the biggest heartbreak of my life. Heartbreak and grief have many layers and I think the body of work reflects the different stages I’ve gone through. It goes from realizing that the end is near on “No Words”, to grieving the friendship that ultimately is the foundation of a relationship on “Strangers”, to healing and trying again on “Poison” and “Let Me Know”. The project mirrors the process I went through emotionally.
Nobody talks about how the ghost of past betrayal affects and distorts the hope one goes into a potential new relationship with. How crushing on someone can trigger anxiety rather than hope, or how being in an on-and off again situationship can be addictive. The EP became the only place I felt that I could truly be honest.
When you began creating Afrobeats for Emotional Gangsters, what was the vision you were trying to bring to life?
I’ve had a lot of breakthroughs in my career over the past year, and my main intention was to introduce myself to my new listeners who recently discovered me through my performances opening for Stonebwoy and Shenseea as well as my viral videos. I wanted a complete body of work that captures my sound. I wanted to capture the emotional and melancholic type of afrobeats as my signature sound, in a way that feels updated and refined.
The project effortlessly presents a refreshing take on Afrobeats. How do you approach genre in your music, and do you see yourself as part of a new generation of African artists who are redefining what Afrobeats can sound like?
When I started making music more than 10 years ago, I didn’t have any role models who did this particular sound. I had love for afrobeats and neo soul as two separate things. Jhene Aiko, the Internet and Frank Ocean would please my R&B ear, while Burna Boy, Davido etc would be my go-to afrobeats artists. It was through jam sessions in South Africa that I realized that I could mix the two, and so myself and my band did exactly that. It came out so unique and it felt satisfying, delivering vibes AND vulnerability. When artists like Tems, Omah Lay, and Gyakie came up, I felt so happy. It felt like I’d found my people and that I was a part of a very specific wave. I definitely think this niche has come to stay.
Your lead single, “Woah” featuring Mellissa has become a standout moment on the project. Walk us through how the song came together.
When Soulbase and I started working on the track, I immediately had an instinct to involve Mellissa. She does her afro-sexy sound, and seeing how smooth, cinematic and sensual the song was becoming, I was convinced it would be a perfect match. We sent it through and she absolutely killed her verse. Immediately, we started envisioning the visuals, and as predicted, it came out steaming hot, hehe. Shout out to Kwame Kodah, my favorite Ghanaian director of all time.
As a woman navigating the Ghanaian and broader African music industry, what realities do you think are still under-discussed when it comes to building a sustainable career?
I think what for instance Moliy is doing, and what Mellissa and I did with this track, is the beginning of a shift. For a long time it used to be the case that female artists, since we are few, would be compared and baited to compete with one another. I think this generation of female artists in Ghana are actively changing that by rooting for one another and collaborating. Look at Moliy, Shenseea, Moliy and Tyla, Mellissa and myself. We are demonstrating that working together is more powerful than trying to be the only one. I love to see it!
Do you feel there are expectations placed on female artists that their male counterparts are less likely to face? How have you learned to navigate those pressures while remaining authentic to yourself?
Both are expected to be really good at what they do, but for women, we also have to look extremely good while doing it. Glam, fashion and aesthetics happen to be things I am also passionate about, so for me personally I’m not mad at it. But generally speaking, if you see what kind of packaging women are expected to have for their talent (performances, costumes, beauty standards, bodies) you clearly see a difference. At the same time, I find it useful to view the visual aspect of the art and also the business as an asset. I have fun with the process and enjoy putting together shows, visuals, outfits that make me feel good and that becomes the visual representation of the sounds and my vision. I love putting it all together, especially when working with the right people.
African music is experiencing unprecedented global growth. As someone operating within that movement, where do you think the industry still needs to evolve, particularly when it comes to creating opportunities for women?
In my opinion, Ghana needs to be placed on the map to a way bigger extent than now. A lot of what Nigeria is credited for now, partially stems from Ghana. Don’t get me wrong, shout out to Nigeria and South Africa for being so assertive with their global ambitions! But what I would like to see is more of the countries represented. We have some global potential that I feel needs a more aggressive export approach. I personally am trying to make that happen by doing collabs, performing internationally and also organizing my own events, bringing together Africa and the diaspora. I’m hoping that my festival, the Dream Big Afro festival, will be a contribution to the export of especially Ghanaian music.
You recently launched the Dream Big Festival, an initiative that extends beyond music itself. What inspired the festival, and what impact do you hope it will have on young creatives and communities moving forward?
I grew up in Norway, a country that for a long time was very white and homogeneous. I’ve personally felt how lack of representation and inclusion does to one’s self image, confidence and identity. So for a long time I’ve been wanting to change the scene in Norway. It started with a headline show that I was hosting when it hit me that I can use this evening and stage to lift up other afrobeats artists in Norway as well. Based on the reception and the engagement coming from all the artists involved, the attendees and also industry people in both Norway and in Africa, I have decided to take this to the next level. Next year, the Dream Big festival will have both local and international acts, bridging the gap between Africa and the diaspora.
What excites you most about the next chapter of your artistic journey, both musically and personally?
I want to go deeper. We are already working on the next project, which will be Afrobeats for Emotional Gangsters Part 2. On this project, we delve deeper into the dark side of being an emotional baddie. Expect more fire and aggression, alongside the dreamy, cinematic afro soundscape we’ve created in Part 1. In Part 2, we are facing the dragon.
After the release of Afrobeats for Emotional Gangsters and the launch of Dream Big Festival, what can fans expect from Akuvi next, and what dreams are you currently chasing that people may not know about yet?
I’m excited to keep performing the new songs live. My headline show was only the beginning of a series of performances where we got to give the EP a physical manifestation. Bonding with fans through live performances is always very special, and it feels so good to bring choreography into the mix, it’s like I get to express the song all over again but in a physical way. I would never expose all my dreams, as I believe in doing rather than talking, but I will say this: I will keep doing things that scare me. So should you.
Photo Credit: Lydia tefara
The opening track on Therapy Wasn’t Enough sets the tone for the 11-track album by R&B singer Inayah, chronicling the challenges and realities of her relationship with her fiancé. Throughout, Inayah presents her rawest, most vulnerable self, delivering honest, relatable lyrics, melodies, and production that capture a wide range of emotions.
Therapy Wasn’t Enough is more than just a collection of songs; it's genuine introspection and reflection that also unveil a renewed side of Inayah. Having sung since her youth, her breakout came from a viral cover of Ella Mai’s Boo’d Up, introducing her voice to the masses. Since that moment, her Gospel- and Blues-influenced voice has brought something fresh to R&B.
As a follow-up to 2024’s Wait, There's More, Inayah’s new album clearly shows her artistic and vocal growth. This phase marks a personal transformation, now reflected in her music. In our discussion about her album release, we delve into healing, chasing dreams, singing in church, the album's making, and more.
Hi Inayah, great to meet you. First of all, congratulations on the release of your new album. Starting from the beginning, where did the idea of you wanting to make this particular album begin for you?
So this album is, collectively, almost six years in the making, because it's the story of me and my now-fiancé. It's me sharing the journey of how he and I have learned to do life together, and all the things that entail. Learning how to choose to do life together has been a journey: the ups, the downs, the good, the bad, the ugly, all of that is in this album.
Therapy is a big part of this album, and so even in your experience of going to therapy, and then also sharing and opening up in the way that you have in your music, like, how did you find the experience?
It was challenging. I can't lie about that. My fans know me for real, raw storytelling about real-life events, but I've never been this vulnerable before. I’m proud of my growth on this album. I love all my projects, but Therapy Wasn’t Enough is the first time I can say I’m a grown woman on a record. People often think that being with your soulmate means all is perfect, but love, though beautiful, has its challenges. We chose therapy instead of giving up, but therapy alone wasn’t enough. We had to apply what we learned—therapy is just a tool, one you must use beyond the session. That’s what this is about, and I’m still learning. I don’t have it all figured out.
The song "Choose" was the first single you released for the project. Why did you want that song to kind of represent the album as the first song people heard?
When you look for a good book, you often read the summary on the back to understand what it’s about. Similarly, I felt “Choose” was the summary of this album. It introduces the main themes and emotions of the album, showing the journey and the different stages of love. The song includes moments of grief, anger, ultimatums, love, and a mix of experiences reflected throughout the album.
The song speaks about being put in a situation where you have to choose between your love and relationship and your music. And so even in having that experience and going through that, in chasing and following your dreams but also dealing with the realities of your life and everything else you go for. How have you felt about managing the chase for your dream while balancing everything else?
I have to be honest, I still haven't figured it all out. Maintaining balance is a challenge, and I'm learning as I go. I started as a little girl with a dream and a love for music, and as I grew up, I put in the work to make things happen for myself, with the help of God opening doors for me. I try to disconnect from work when I'm home with my kids and fiancé, and when I leave home, I fully step into my role as an artist. These are truly two different worlds. At home, I'm a mom—cooking, dropping off and picking up the kids, playing basketball with them. I aim to be present in every area where I'm needed. It's a wonderful responsibility, and I do my best to show up for all of them.
How did you find the overall process of making the album?
I had already healed from the story of the album; I wasn't in that space anymore, emotionally, mentally, and in my love life, in my relationship. I thank God we were able to grow past that, but whenever something impacts my life, I write it down and make a song out of it. I had to tell my fiancé, “You know, I'm gonna write about this; I'm gonna write about this challenge that we faced” because it was impactful. I know that if I felt it to the magnitude I felt it, somebody else has got to fill me in on this. Somebody else has, I know, somebody else has dealt with this in their love life, or faced some type of challenge in love. So, although the experience sucked, I knew that there was an assignment in it. When I got back into the studio, I had to re-channel and remember the heartache. I had to mentally take myself back to how I felt in those moments, in order to execute the emotion that you hear on therapy wasn't enough, you know, I was crying all over again. I even got mad all over again, like I just rechanneled all of those emotions in order to, in order to nail it, you know, because it's hard for me to do something that I don't feel.
I was able to get with phenomenal producers that I've always dreamed of working with: Underdogs, Camper, and Ghost. There are so many; it's a dream to get into the studio with producers like that. When I wrapped the album, I went home, lay in bed with my fiancé, and I said, "Hey, you know, we're going to take this, listen to the album from start to finish. I want you to hear it first, you know” and after he listened to it he was sad to realise this is where this is where that moment took you, you know. And, but also at the same time grateful for the growth in the fact that we made it out of that, because a lot of couples don't.
As the album has just come out, and now it is out in the world. How do you feel towards the album now, considering the subject matter is so close to home?
It's a beautiful story. I don't listen to it with shock, like, "wow, we went through that." I listen to it more so with an ear of appreciation rather than, like, damn, we did that. I feel like life is an assignment in itself. When we go through these experiences, for someone in my profession, it's part of our assignment to share them and how we got over them. I'm helping so many people, so I listen to it with the appreciation of, like, man, I hope this heals and helps people who are having the same type of difficulty or dilemma in their love life or in their life in general. I hope this is a guide for them. I hope it gives them whatever answers they're seeking, and I hope they try therapy, you know. I hope that therapy can help save whatever they're going through, but they have to realise that if therapy alone isn't enough, and they still have to put the work
Outside of the storytelling in terms of the lyrics and the subject matters, the production on the album is also very rich, so even in terms of creating the sonic tone and having it match with what you were trying to say, how did you approach that?
I went into the studio knowing exactly what I wanted to feel; I think having great communication with the producer is half the battle. I told each producer how I was feeling and what I wanted the song to feel like. I want the instrument to feel the same way as the emotion that I felt. If I was sad in that moment, I need some kind of slow violin. If I'm angry, I need some 808; I need some bass. If I'm, if I'm trying to be soft and sultry, give me a sweet piano. So I would communicate with the producers to give me an instrument that matched the emotion, and I think they did that really well. The two of us, putting our heads together like that, I think we, we nailed.
What did you want people to get out of this album?
I want them to take away that two things can be true: you can be a lover and a leaver, because, because, honey, I'm both okay. Also, I want them to know that, as cliche as it sounds, anything worth having is worth fighting for. So, you know, give therapy a try if it can save years of history. There's a line in “WTF” which goes 'Is this really what we want? Is this house not a home? I don’t, but you keep blowing up my phone? So it's like if I don't have the idea of.. can this be saved? Can we even make it past this? Some people are opposed to therapy, especially in the black community. Growing up, therapy was one of the best decisions I've ever made for myself and my relationship, but it only works. If you're honest, and it only works if you're going to do the work. You don't just get a reward without the work, and you also just learn how to be a better communicator. The one thing that I've learned from this album, even though I'm the one telling the story, is that there was more benefit in being a listener rather than a talker, you know, because that type of shit don't work when you're trying to do life with somebody.
Going back to your musical beginnings. What would you say was the thing that first initially drew you to music?
So my mama tells this, this story of when I was a baby, I was two years old, and there was the 20th Century Fox theme song that you hear at the beginning of movies, and she said that every time it would come on I could be in the playroom, but then I'll come tee tottering into the other room, running just to catch that intro. So she said she caught it very early on that it was something that really spoke to me, and it was something about that specific melody. She was also a songstress. She used to sing as well. She had musical dreams, so I have to thank her for that guidance and nurturing my gift. She and my Aunt Rosalynn were the two who really took care of my gift. I learned riffs and runs from my Aunt Rosalynn, who was the music director at our church, and they put me in the choir, and I started there. Church is my core; that's where it all started, at Church of God in Christ, and I would travel with the choir, and do you know a bunch of congregation guest appearances, and I ended up taking music into me well into my adult life. I ended up working with a jingle company, which I still work for. I never quit my job; a lot of people are surprised when I say that. And I would play around with that's where I learned how to rap. My brother Terry Allen taught me how to rap, and I remember going home one evening and playing around with Ella Mai's “Bood Up”, and I freestyled to it, and I was like, post this and see, just see, you know, I posted that video. I had about 4,000 followers when I posted that video. I woke up the next morning to over 200,000 followers, quite literally viral overnight. So a lot of people made the mistake of thinking, oh, she just came out of nowhere and went viral, you know, but I have been singing my entire life literally, and then I went on to sign with Empire in early 2020, and I'm still with them today.
Even in your experience of singing in the church and being a part of the choir and then going out and branching out and singing on your own. How did you find that experience in terms of that transition?
It was, but you know, my mama was such a protector of me. She didn't even allow us to listen to secular music until I was an older teen. She really kept a lot of that from us until we got old enough to understand it. And then once I was able to, you know, kind of come into my own, I just one wanted to know what that other side of music was like because I would listen to my mom's blues albums, my mama had Johnny Taylor, Johnny Taylor and Barry White were two blues albums that my mama had, and I was sneaking, playing when she was gone, and that's how I came to fall in love with blues, and then eventually over into R&B, Johnny Taylor is still my favorite male singer until this day. I learned a lot of the structure of storytelling from artists like Johnny Taylor and Barry White, because, you know, blues is stories, And when I was able to, grow into my adult life, and was able to explore different types of music, the R&B side, and then get over into the jingle company, I said I think this is something I would like to do this for a living. I've never seen myself doing anything other than music. God showed me very early on that I would have a career in music. Coming up through gospel, I say, into where I am now, some people would understand the soul in my voice, that background, and I, I got to give it all to church and blues; that's really the core, that's truly the core.
So overall, to wrap up everything. Just in terms of where you are in this space, creatively, musically, etc. What does this moment feel like for you?
I'm in a space where I want to do everything that scares me. I want to conquer it all, you know. I don't want to leave this life with no fears. I want to be able to say I've done all the things, and I've gotten so much inspiration of bravery from this album. Again, because it was a scary thing to speak from such a vulnerable space. So now I want to do other things on my checklist of things that scare me, like skydive. I want to, I want to get in a hot air balloon- things that terrify me. I want to go on a camping trip and actually stay overnight in the mountains. You know, I'm so scared of bugs. I'm super inspired to be brave now because of this album.
The most exciting movements in music rarely begin at the top. They emerge quietly in bedrooms, home studios, underground venues, and across digital communities:before eventually shaping the wider cultural landscape. Across the UK, a new generation of artists is doing exactly that, building worlds of their own through fearless experimentation, deeply personal storytelling, and a refusal to be confined by genre.
Today's emerging artists are creating in an era where boundaries feel increasingly irrelevant. R&B blends with drill, gospel intersects with rap, alternative pop sits comfortably alongside soul, and vulnerability has become just as powerful as bravado. Rather than following established formulas, these artists are defining their own, creating music that feels reflective of modern Britain in all its complexity, diversity, and creativity.
What connects this new wave is not a singular sound but a shared commitment to authenticity. Whether exploring love, identity, faith, heartbreak, ambition, or self-discovery, these artists are using music as a vehicle for honest expression, inviting listeners into experiences that feel both deeply personal and universally relatable. Many have built loyal communities through consistency and genuine connection, proving that cultural impact is no longer determined solely by commercial success.
From viral breakthroughs and critically acclaimed projects to underground favourites steadily building momentum, the artists featured in this list represent some of the most compelling voices currently emerging from the UK. Each is carving out their own lane, contributing to a broader creative shift that is redefining what British music can look and sound like.
These are the artists on our 2026 radar and if their current trajectory is anything to go by, they won't stay under it for long.
TR GOBRAZY is a South-East London rapper known for his gritty delivery, raw energy, and street-driven storytelling within the UK drill scene, and is one of the newer names coming out of the UK underground rap scene. Emerging from the underground, he built attention through his authentic voice and direct approach to music, often reflecting real-life experiences with intensity and confidence. He first started getting attention as a producer, with credits connected to tracks like Central Cee and Dave’s “Sprinter,” along with several drill records, before stepping out properly as a rapper himself.
He continues to build a reputation for consistency, bringing a raw and unfiltered energy. Tracks like “Handbag,” “Bagged,” “Homeless,” and “Finesse My Bro” helped him build momentum. “Handbag,” especially, became one of the songs people kept on rotation within UK rap circles.
His latest single, “Forreduci,” continues that signature approach, pairing a stripped-back, hard-hitting instrumental with a direct, high-energy performance. The track stays grounded in themes of pressure, survival, and ambition, delivered with his usual urgency and street perspective.
The music video elevates the release through a striking visual concept in collaboration with Lauzza, blending bold animated sequences with a 3D-printed set design. The whole aesthetic leans into a cold, glitchy, dystopian London style. This mix of physical craftsmanship and digital animation creates a unique, almost experimental aesthetic, amplifying the raw tone of the record while giving it a cinematic edge.
Overall, “Forreduci” reinforces TR GOBRAZY’s position within the UK underground scene, showcasing both consistency in his sound and a growing creative ambition in how he presents his music. Visually, he is one of the dopest new artists emerging right now, with incredible storytelling visuals.
NATANYA is a British singer, songwriter, and producer from North London whose sound blends alternative R&B, soul, and experimental pop influences into a style that feels both nostalgic and forward-thinking. She first emerged in 2019 with her debut single, “Sunset Melody,” released while still in school, followed shortly after by “Blue Jay” in 2021. She later returned with “Like U,” continuing to develop her distinctive sonic identity.
Her fusion track, “Foolish,” surpassed one million streams, marking a major breakthrough moment and leading to a support slot for R&B group FLO. Since then, NATANYA has continued building a reputation for her genre-blending sound, emotionally rich songwriting, and creative unpredictability. NATANYA’s most recent project, “Felines Return,” marks one of her most defining artistic statements to date, expanding her world further into a space where alternative R&B, experimental pop, and soul-infused production collide.
Her latest single, “Don’t Ask!,” represents a bold step forward in her artistry. The track leans into a more theatrical and confident sound. It explores themes of ambition, independence, and refusing to seek permission or validation, presenting a more direct and assertive version of NATANYA.
Overall, NATANYA continues to stand out as one of the most distinctive emerging voices in the UK alternative R&B space, consistently pushing her sound forward while building anticipation for what she does next. She balances experimentation with emotional clarity, shifting between stripped-back vulnerability and bold, genre-blending production that draws from alt-pop, soul, and experimental R&B.
FINESSEKID is a South London-born rapper and emerging voice in the UK underground scene, active since 2024. His music blends elements of drill, trap, and club-influenced percussion, defined by swagger-heavy wordplay and an energetic, confident delivery. He first gained attention through viral freestyles, quickly becoming one of the most closely watched newcomers in British rap.
He represents a newer wave of UK underground artists building momentum through gritty, internet-driven releases and a raw, minimalist sound. His style focuses on tight flows over hard-hitting, bass-heavy production.
He has continued to build momentum through both solo releases and high-profile collaborations. Among his most notable link-ups are associations with Skepta and Lancey Foux, placing him within a wider network of influential and forward-thinking UK artists. His breakout moment came with the 2025 single “Sirens (From Ireland)”, a track that significantly amplified his visibility across streaming platforms and social media.
His new track “Boyega” builds on that momentum. “Boyega” stays rooted in his core themes: ambition, confidence and progression, and is focused on its delivery and intent. Overall, “Boyega” reinforces why Finessekid is being closely watched in the UK underground, steadily developing a recognisable sound and presence with each drop.
Overall, “Boyega” reinforces why FINESSEKID is being closely watched within the UK underground scene: he is not just releasing consistent music, but steadily developing a recognisable sound and presence with every drop.
LXO is a North London contemporary R&B singer-songwriter and producer whose sound blends nostalgic influences with a modern, self-defined edge. Her smooth melodies, cadences and narrative-driven storytelling, alongside fusing genres like sexy drill and other alternative influences, position her to carve out her own space within the evolving UK R&B scene.
Her single “I’m Sorry”, her second release, resonated strongly because listeners connected with the feeling of reclaiming themselves after being undervalued in a toxic relationship or situation, turning the song into an emotional release and an anthem of reassurance. Instead of centering heartbreak, the song flips the narrative into one of confidence, self-worth, and emotional power, which pushed the track viral across TikTok and social media and marked a turning point in her early career.
She’s continued to build momentum with singles “Hold Up” and “Lockscreen”. Her latest single, “Lockscreen”, sits in the space between desire and discipline; a record about yearning for the right partner while never losing sight of self-worth. It frames love as intentional—open to connection, but always on her own terms.
Her visuals for “Lockscreen” deepen that duality: 90s R&B girly nostalgia reflecting vulnerability and romantic imagination, while also being authoritative, where LXO appears in office wear reviewing CVs of potential partners, with the CV motif symbolising standards, discernment and emotional leadership. Her music explores love, heartbreak, relationships and emotional growth while giving listeners a sense of confidence, reassurance and comfort, where visuals are not decoration but an extension.
Her music explores themes of love, heartbreak, relationships, and emotional growth, while giving listeners a sense of confidence, reassurance, and comfort through both her sound and storytelling. For LXO, visuals are not decoration but an extension. She continues to shape a distinct sonic and visual identity, expanding a cohesive world where emotion, empowerment, and individuality all coexist.
BXKS is a UK rapper from Luton known for her sharp delivery, laid-back confidence, and distinctive melodic flow that blends drill, rap, and R&B influences. Her music balances hard-hitting rap energy with smoother, more melodic moments, giving her a sound that stands out within the new wave of UK artists. BXKS has become recognised for her effortless cadence and ability to move between gritty lyricism and catchy, understated hooks without losing her identity.
Her latest project, “Fear of Eclipses” (EP), showcases that artistic growth in full. Across the project, she leans further into atmospheric and melodic production while maintaining the cool, controlled delivery that has become central to her sound. The EP explores self-awareness, pressure, independence, and navigating success on her own terms, with BXKS relying on tone, cadence, and subtle lyricism to carry emotion.
BXKS allows mood, flow and atmosphere to carry the weight of each track, creating a sound that feels effortless but intentional. While still rooted in UK rap and drill influences, “Fear of Eclipses” expands beyond those foundations, incorporating more melodic textures and experimental moments that help separate her from her peers.
Overall, “Fear of Eclipses” reinforces BXKS as one of the most distinctive and forward-thinking voices in UK rap, continuing to evolve her sound while staying true to the style that made her stand out. With each release, she continues to prove her versatility and artistic range, leaving growing anticipation for what is still to come.
Rico Ace is an emerging UK artist shaping a sound that sits between melodic rap, R&B emotion, and trap-led production. His music is defined by contrast: smooth, almost vulnerable melodic moments layered over darker, more aggressive rap sections. That balance gives his catalogue a fluid identity, where mood often leads the direction as much as lyrics or structure, balancing emotion and momentum in equal measure.
Across his early run, Rico Ace has built strong momentum through consistent output and key collaborations with EsDeeKid. Their joint releases — including “Bally,” “Phantom,” “LV Sandals,” “Dope Boyz,” and “Treason” — became defining entries in his rise, circulating heavily within the UK underground. These tracks highlight his adaptability, as he switches between melodic hooks and sharp, rhythmic flows while still maintaining a recognisable and consistent sonic identity.
What separates Rico Ace from many emerging artists is the emotional duality within his music. On one hand, there is a cold, confident street presence driven by punchy delivery and hard-hitting beats; on the other, there is a more melodic, introspective side that leans into emotional honesty and personal experience. This gives his music a lived-in quality, where even high-energy tracks feel personal, while more reflective songs still hold a certain edge and tension.
That duality is expanded further on his 10-track project, “Black Jack,” which serves as a more complete statement of his artistic direction. The project explores different pockets of his sound — from atmospheric, late-night cuts to more structured, hook-driven tracks built for replay value — while showcasing a wider emotional range. Blending moody, atmospheric production with catchy melodic structures and more experimental rap flows, the project also demonstrates a clearer sense of artistic identity, with cohesive production choices that lean into both mood and momentum.
With “Black Jack,” Rico Ace continues to position himself as a rising voice within the UK scene, steadily building a catalogue that feels intentional. His growth is rooted in consistency, collaboration, and an evolving sonic identity that bridges underground rap energy with melodic accessibility. His ability to balance emotion, atmosphere, and hard-hitting rap elements positions him as an artist with strong growth potential, continuing to refine a style that feels both current and distinct within the evolving UK rap landscape.
Mysie (pronounced “My-Zee”) is a British singer-songwriter, producer, and pianist from South London with Ugandan heritage, known for her genre-blurring blend of electronic, soul, alt-pop, indie electronica, and alternative R&B. Her music is rooted in emotional storytelling and immersive production, combining warm vocals with experimental textures to create records that feel intimate, cinematic, and deeply expressive.
From an early age, Mysie was immersed in a wide range of influences spanning electronic, dance, pop, rap, hip hop, and indie music, drawing inspiration from artists such as Flying Lotus and Thundercat. That early exposure to boundary-pushing music helped shape her artistic direction, inspiring her to create music that feels fluid, emotionally rich, and unrestricted by genre.
Mysie’s artistry moves effortlessly between vulnerability and experimentation. Her songwriting often explores themes of identity, emotion, freedom, and self-reflection, delivered through layered melodies, atmospheric arrangements, and unconventional sonic choices that continue to separate her from her peers.
Her latest single, “Don’t Like You Anymore,” leans further into electronic textures and emotionally detached lyricism, blending alternative R&B with club-inspired production to create a record that feels both confrontational and emotionally vulnerable. The track explores emotional distance and disconnection through immersive production and expressive vocal delivery, reinforcing the introspective and genre-defying qualities that define her sound.
As both a musician and visual creative, Mysie places strong emphasis on world-building through styling, imagery, and sonic cohesion. Her artistry feels intentional yet emotionally raw, positioning her as one of the most forward-thinking and distinctive artists emerging from the UK alternative music scene.
Skaiwater is a Nottingham-born rapper, producer and creative artist known for pushing the boundaries of alternative rap through a blend of rage, hyperpop, emo rap, trap and electronic influences. Skaiwater has built a cult-like following through genre-defying music, emotionally unpredictable songwriting and an unapologetically experimental aesthetic.
Their sound moves fluidly between distorted production, vulnerable melodies, high-energy rap performances and glitch-heavy electronic textures, often rejecting traditional song structures altogether. Drawing influence from internet culture, underground rap communities, gaming aesthetics and alternative fashion, Skaiwater’s music feels intentionally unfiltered, capturing the emotional intensity of a digitally raised generation.
Skaiwater continues to expand that sound further with the recent single “Guess What”, a high-energy collaboration with Tezzus that leans heavily into chaotic rage production, distorted bass and hyperactive delivery.
Following projects like #Gigi, #Mia and Wonderful, the release further reinforces Skaiwater’s reputation as one of the most forward-thinking artists emerging from the UK underground. By combining rage, hyperpop, Jersey club, trap and alternative rap into a constantly evolving sound, Skaiwater continues to reshape what modern underground rap can look and feel like.
DC3 is a fast-rising UK rapper from Northampton known for blending Christian themes with UK rap, jazz, gospel, and alternative hip-hop influences. He has gained attention for intense freestyle-style performances, emotionally charged delivery, and faith-focused lyrics. In 2026, he broke into the mainstream after winning both Best Newcomer and Best Gospel Act at the MOBO Awards, which pushed him into wider UK rap conversations and gospel-influenced music circles.
Songs like “I Know!” and “Upstairs” helped him build a huge online audience, particularly on TikTok and YouTube, where clips of his performances spread quickly due to his unpredictable flow switches, raw emotion, and spiritual intensity. His music often feels less like traditional rap and more like a hybrid of testimony, spoken word, and performance, which has helped him connect deeply with listeners seeking honesty and emotional depth.
His rise also reflects a wider shift happening in UK rap, where artists are increasingly blending genre boundaries and openly exploring themes like religion, mental health, and personal struggle. DC3 sits at the centre of this movement, bringing together gospel-inspired expression with alternative production and contemporary UK rap energy, creating a sound that feels both modern and spiritually grounded.
DC3 stands out within the new generation of UK artists because of the intensity and unpredictability of his delivery. His music moves between melodic preaching tones, rapid-fire flows, and emotionally charged spoken-word passages, creating tracks that often feel more like personal testimonies than traditional rap songs. Rather than relying on conventional structure, DC3 builds emotion through vulnerability, pacing, and raw expression, allowing listeners to connect deeply with the message behind his music. Whether speaking on faith, pressure, purpose, or personal struggle, his honesty and emotional depth have helped him resonate strongly with younger audiences searching for authenticity and reassurance.
As his audience continues to grow, DC3 is increasingly being recognised as one of the most original emerging voices in British music. His rise reflects a wider shift happening within UK rap, where artists are becoming more open about vulnerability, spirituality, and emotional honesty while pushing beyond traditional genre boundaries. Blending gospel-inspired emotion, alternative production, and modern UK rap influences, DC3 has created a sound that feels both deeply personal and culturally impactful. With each release, he continues to challenge expectations of what UK rap can sound like, positioning himself as an artist with a strong creative identity and long-term potential.
Dexter In The Newsagent is a South London artist known for her introspective songwriting, lo-fi production, and emotionally honest approach to alternative music. She first gained attention through self-recorded songs made on her iPhone, building a cult following through soft, conversational vocals and deeply personal storytelling that blends indie, R&B, UK garage, and bedroom pop influences into a sound that feels nostalgic. Over time, she has continued to evolve creatively while maintaining the DIY vulnerability that made her stand out.
Alongside her solo work, Dexter has collaborated with artists including Niko B on “Trespass Coat” and Jim Legxacy on “Dexter's Phone Call,” further cementing her place within the UK alternative underground scene. These collaborations have highlighted her versatility and ability to naturally fit within the wider world of experimental UK music while still maintaining softness and emotional intimacy.
Her latest mixtape, “Time Flies,” feels warmly nostalgic, capturing the same emotional comfort as flipping through an old photo album. Across the 12-track project, Dexter reflects on memories, growing up, love, family, identity, and loneliness with a softness that feels both personal and universally familiar. Tracks like “Special” and “Eighteen” blend hushed dance production with early-2000s-inspired textures, creating music that feels timeless and comforting. The project carries a dreamy atmosphere throughout, balancing melancholy and warmth in a way that mirrors the blurred feeling of looking back on formative moments and relationships.
Dexter creates intimacy through understatement, allowing small details, quiet melodies, and conversational lyrics to carry emotional weight. Her songwriting often feels observational and diary-like, capturing moments that might seem ordinary on the surface but become deeply affecting through her honesty and perspective. That same feeling carries into her latest release, “Special (A COLORS SHOW),” where her emotionally raw songwriting is stripped back even further. The performance places her soft vocal delivery and reflective lyrics at the centre, allowing themes of love, validation, vulnerability, and self-worth to resonate more deeply. The minimal presentation highlights the emotional clarity of her writing and reinforces her ability to create impact.
Dexter In The Newsagent continues to carve out a unique and deeply personal space within the UK alternative scene through honesty, intimacy, and storytelling. Her ability to transform everyday emotions, memories, and insecurities into music that feels universally comforting has made her one of the most emotionally resonant emerging artists in the UK right now. As her artistic world continues to grow, she represents a new generation of artists proving that vulnerability, softness, and authenticity can be just as powerful as volume or spectacle, leaving growing anticipation around where her sound and storytelling will evolve.
Cari is one of the most compelling new voices in alternative R&B. Best described as a quiet storm, the Black-British singer, songwriter and instrumentalist, shaped by her Caribbean roots and raised in London, creates music that moves fluidly between alternative R&B, indie soul and experimental textures while remaining emotionally grounded and instinctive. Guitar sits at the centre of her artistry, acting as both a sonic and emotional anchor throughout her music, threading vulnerability and intimacy into each record she creates.
Her artistry is rooted in patience, growth and emotional honesty. Cari released her debut single “Colder in June” in 2023. The release marked a defining turning point in her career, opening the door to new creative opportunities while establishing the emotional depth and atmospheric storytelling that would quickly become synonymous with her sound.
She followed the release with tracks such as the indie-leaning “Over & Over” and the melancholic “Bleeding”, both of which further showcased her ability to translate vulnerability into immersive sonic experiences. Cari’s music thrives in its honesty and restraint, allowing space for emotion, texture and subtlety to take centre stage.
That growing momentum has already led to a number of standout opportunities early in her career. Cari performed as part of a special NPR Radio collaboration with Marni, opened for Sasha Keable in Paris, and contributed the dreamy interlude “Cari’s Honeymoon” to Destin Conrad’s debut album “Love on Digital”.
Cari recently returned with “Laugh Later Cry Now”, a deeply reflective single featuring AMBRE that further showcases her ability to turn vulnerability into atmosphere. Blending alternative R&B, indie soul and stripped-back instrumentation, the track explores the emotional tension between avoidance and honesty.
The collaboration between Cari and AMBRE feels naturally intimate, with both artists bringing softness, emotional depth and vulnerability to the record. Their voices move seamlessly across the production, creating a conversational dynamic that strengthens the song’s themes of emotional conflict, heartbreak and internal reflection. Driven by subtle guitar work, warm melodies and emotionally detailed songwriting, “Laugh Later Cry Now” leans into the restraint and honesty that continue to define Cari’s artistry. Cari continues expanding the deeply personal and atmospheric world she has been building across her catalogue.
Teebo FG is a British rapper and producer emerging from the UK underground scene, known for his delivery, dark experimental production and raw approach to contemporary British rap. His music blends street-rooted lyricism with industrial, bass-heavy beats, creating a sound that feels intense, immersive and unapologetically underground.
Teebo FG first drew major attention with “Shop Floor (B22’s)” in 2024, an underground anthem that quickly circulated across the UK scene before later receiving a remix featuring fellow artists Len, Hako, and Coults. The track established Teebo as a distinctive new voice, showcasing the cold delivery, dark production choices and gritty energy that would become central to his sound.
Since then, he has continued building momentum through consistent releases and a sonic identity shaped by mood-driven production and sharp vocal performance. While much of his music leans into darker textures and high-intensity delivery, there is also an atmospheric quality to his work that allows his cadence and storytelling to remain at the forefront. His 2025 mixtape RIDDLR further cemented his position within the UK underground landscape.
His latest release, “COD 45”, expands on that identity through a cold, bass-heavy instrumental and tightly controlled delivery. The track captures Teebo G at his most focused, balancing aggression with precision while exploring themes of ambition, survival and street mentality. Driven by distorted textures, heavy percussion and an intense atmosphere, “COD 45” reinforces the stripped-back rawness that continues to define his music.
What makes Teebo FG stand out is his ability to maintain intensity without losing clarity or control. Rather than overcomplicating his approach, he relies on mood, cadence and presence to carry his records — a quality that continues to position him as one of the UK underground’s most distinctive and fast-rising new artists.
Sade Olutola is a British-Nigerian singer-songwriter crafting a distinctive space within the UK’s alternative soul and R&B landscape. Her artistry is rooted in emotional storytelling, introspection and atmosphere. Through warm, expressive vocals and poetic lyricism, Sade creates music that feels deeply personal while still carrying a cinematic, nostalgic and immersive quality.
Earlier this month, Sade Olutola told Deeds Magazine that her work is driven entirely by self-direction, with both her music and visuals coming directly from her own ideas and perspective. She described herself as the core “source” of everything she creates, ensuring her artistry stays authentic and aligned with who she is rather than outside influence. She also pointed to three key pillars—nostalgia, community and authenticity—that shape her creative world. These values keep her work cohesive while allowing her to evolve naturally, with every project grounded in honesty and personal expression.
She further introduced her artistic world through her 5-track debut EP Arrow Heart, a concise but emotionally layered body of work that showcases the full range of her artistry. Blending alternative R&B, indie pop, electronic textures and soulful songwriting, the project creates a dreamlike listening experience built around intimacy, vulnerability and emotional reflection.
She went on to share that her EP Arrow Heart is being developed as a visual album, with plans to create a music video for each track. She described the project as an extension of her artistic vision rather than a separate idea. Inspired by Beyoncé’s self-titled visual album, she explained how its full visual rollout influenced her approach and reinforced her desire to treat music and visuals as one cohesive body of work.
Across Arrow Heart, tracks such as “Grey Matter”, “Ready 4 It” and “Game for Two” continue exploring themes of connection, uncertainty, longing and emotional push-and-pull. Rather than relying on overly polished mainstream structures, the project leans into mood, texture and feeling, allowing each song to unfold with patience and emotional weight. There’s a quiet confidence in the way Sade approaches songwriting, trusting subtlety and atmosphere to carry the emotional impact.
What makes Arrow Heart particularly compelling is its strong sense of identity and world-building. The EP feels less like a collection of songs and more like an emotional universe, where visuals, sound and storytelling all work together. Through immersive production, intimate writing and carefully curated aesthetics, Sade Olutola continues to establish herself as one of the UK’s most promising emerging alternative voices.
Samrecks is a Nigerian-born, South East London-raised rapper, singer and producer known for his melodic, fashion-forward approach to contemporary UK hip hop. Emerging from London’s music scene, he has quickly become one of the most talked-about new artists in British rap, recognised for his self-directed creativity, genre-blending sound and introspective lyricism.
His music sits between rap, melody-led performance and alternative production, often carrying a reflective tone that explores ambition, identity, loyalty and emotional pressure. Samrecks stands out for his ability to balance vulnerability with confidence, pairing thoughtful writing with an off-kilter, expressive delivery that feels both modern and unpredictable.
His track “Amazing Grace” from the REKKI I mixtape is one of his most introspective releases to date. The song focuses on perseverance, loyalty and self-belief, capturing the emotional weight of chasing his goals while navigating fake relationships, pressure and everyday struggle. Throughout the track, he reflects on survival and ambition, using “Amazing Grace” as a metaphor for hope and deliverance through difficult times.
Built on minimal, atmospheric production, the song allows his cadence and storytelling to take centre stage. He shifts between melodic phrasing and rap delivery, creating a raw but controlled performance that feels personal and reflective.
Overall, “Amazing Grace” reinforces Samrecks as a distinctive voice in the new wave of UK talent, an artist pushing creative boundaries while grounding his music in honest, lived experience.
Nia Smith is a British soul and R&B singer-songwriter from Brixton, South London, celebrated for her rich vocals, honest songwriting and emotionally driven sound. Combining elements of classic soul, contemporary R&B, jazz and alternative music, she has quickly emerged as one of the most exciting new voices in the UK scene.
Through intimate storytelling and warm, layered melodies, Nia’s music explores love, vulnerability, healing and self-growth with striking sincerity. Her ability to balance softness with emotional depth has helped her build a sound that feels both timeless and refreshingly modern, drawing listeners in through production and deeply personal lyricism.
Her debut EP Give Up the Fear introduced listeners to her emotionally candid approach to songwriting, earning praise for its soulful production, vulnerability and honesty. The project positioned Nia as a standout artist within the UK’s growing alternative soul and R&B landscape, showcasing not only the strength of her voice but also her ability to create music that feels intimate and universally relatable at the same time.
Since then, Nia has continued to build momentum through a series of reflective and heartfelt releases, further cementing her place as an artist to watch. She recently collaborated with Destin Conrad on the tender single “Tough”, a soulful and emotionally rich record centred around openness, connection and vulnerability.
The track pairs Nia’s warm, soulful delivery with Destin’s airy, melodic vocals, creating a soft but emotionally charged blend that feels reflective and deeply human. The collaboration highlighted her ability to seamlessly blend with other artists while still maintaining the warmth and individuality that defines her sound.
Alongside her recorded music, Nia’s live performances have also become a key part of her growing reputation, with her calming stage presence and expressive vocals allowing audiences to connect deeply with her music in real time.
As her artistry continues to evolve, Nia Smith is carving out a distinct space within contemporary soul and R&B, creating music that resonates through honesty, emotion and quiet strength.
On his latest seven-track project, the Nigerian-born artist bypasses contemporary romance clichés to craft a deeply spiritual, un-skippable love story.
Mannywellz has delivered a project that feels profoundly honest, structurally intentional, and fiercely strong. Small Chops is a beautifully curated, seven-song love story that elevates modern romance into something deeply spiritual. Grounded firmly in classic R&B and pure soul, Mannywellz subtly colours his arrangements with rich jazz inflections and West African rhythmic textures, creating an elevated sonic palette that is both effortlessly sexy and masterfully sophisticated.
The journey begins with "Do You," an opening track with production so buttery and fluid it feels like silk to the ears, immediately setting a luxurious tone for the rest of the project. From there, the album flows seamlessly into "How It Feels," a brilliant display of musical contrast and an absolute standout. I still remember first hearing a snippet of this track on TikTok and instantly thinking, “this song is absolutely everything”. I knew right then I needed to hear the rest of it, and the full version does not disappoint. What makes the track so captivating is how beautifully Mannywellz’s rich Nigerian heritage naturally shines through his vocals; you can clearly hear the elegant cadence of his native accent, adding an organic warmth and authenticity to the music. He weaves a gorgeous tapestry of jazz, rhythm and blues, and deep soul, creating an undeniable foundation for Wale to step into. Wale’s signature flow wraps around the rhythm beautifully, cementing the fact that this track is a definitive hit. Along with "Holy Father," it is easily one of my two favorite tracks on the entire project.
The emotional and lyrical center piece of the album arrives with "Holy Father." Rather than relying on standard, surface-level tropes of romance, Mannywellz bypasses contemporary clichés to dive straight into the soul. He uses the track to thank God for the very creation of his muse. It is, without question, one of the highest compliments penned in modern music. By praising the Creator for the perfection, complexity, and beauty of the woman he loves, he elevates her far beyond mere physical attraction. This approach strips away insecurity. It declares that she is superb, exceptional, and divinely designed. To thank God for a partner's existence is a profound act of devotion that carries far more weight than a simple "I love you."
The album reaches its climax and conclusion with "Wow," a track that bravely subverts expectations of how men express desire. While media often reserves "movie-like," sweeping cinematic romances for the female gaze, Mannywellz steps into the light to voice his own deepest longings. He openly asks for a love so breathtaking it leaves him speechless, offering a rare, vulnerable glimpse into the male psyche. It serves as a beautiful reminder that men, too, crave that awe-inspiring, magical kind of intimacy.
With its rich melodic layers, impeccable mixing, and sensual storytelling, "Small Chops" is a flawless compilation of R&B and soul. At just seven songs, it leaves you entirely captivated and entirely greedy marveling at the sheer depth of Mannywellz's musical tool belt. This is an elevated, deeply felt experience that commands your undivided attention, begging to be left on an unbroken, un-skippable loop.
On July 1st 2023, Yardland was set to launch its first festival at Parc de Choisy in Paris, two days of a trailblazing line-up, which I hoped would be my big breakthrough as a freelance journalist. Unfortunately, due to the tragic murder of 17-year-old Nahel Merzouk on June 27th, followed by an outbreak of riots, the festival was cancelled altogether. I found myself in the middle of a French-Martinique household in the outskirts of the city, wondering how else I was going to spend the remainder of my trip in the comfort and safety of their home.
It was during this particular summer that I was formally introduced to Zouk, a musical style originating in the French Antilles, namely Guadeloupe and Martinique. Its slow pace and low-dance hip rhythmic felt familiar; however, nothing I could previously translate into words. With the guidance of the accommodating family, I spent my days listening through some of the Zouk classics, braising with the smell of rum in the background, fully unaware of the sonic world I had just entered.
Growing up in a French-speaking house, the Francophone diaspora was always within reach, and it wasn’t so long that one was listening to Confidence by Kim, for example, a French-Martinique singer who rose to prominence at the Fête de la Musique in 2004. In my naivety, I had convinced myself that any diasporic movement charting in France was Congolese-influenced, and anything remotely afro-inspired in the UK was Nigerian. Surely Jamaican riddims, such as Dancehall and reggae, made it through our cross-cultural environment back when I was still living in South East London. Legends like Bob Marley and Vybz Kartel were a staple in everybody’s diet, regardless of whether our background was Caribbean or African. Yet, I rarely remember Francophone Caribbeans receiving their flowers for the role they played in also reshaping modern Afropop.
Today, their musical resonance is everywhere in the work of the Queen of France, Aya Nakamura, who is of Malian descent, her French-Congolese protégé Theodora, underground rap act 63OG, of Cameroonian origins, French-Cameroon Tayc and his musical universe of Afro-love, and French-Congolese ‘Jaloux’ singer Dadju. Even all the way in Kenya, singer-songwriter Bien had become a recent participant. Not only are Caribbean music styles, like Dominican Bouyon, Haitian Konpa and Martinique Zouk, having a resurgence, but they have been quietly influencing some of the most popular Francophone Afropop music for decades. Deeds Magazine selected their top 3 picks that you may not have known were infused with the West Indies’ most popular dance music.
Arguably, French-Malian Afropop singer Aya Nakamura’s 2018 breakout hit ‘Copines’ is the biggest song in her career thus far. However, did you know that the drums' soothing groove on the track can be traced to Zouk music? As one of the lead figures of modern Francophone Afropop, Aya has always made use of elements from both Zouk and Konpa to unveil her musical soundscape. Produced by powerhouse French-Congolese Julio Masidi, the multiple award-winning, breaking-hit track sits between Afropop, R&B, and Zouk. Some of the influences we could imagine a young Aya raised in Saint-Denis (also known as “93”) absorbed throughout its multi-cultural pot, where Caribbean and African influences due to its diaspora all intertwine.
One of French-Congolese Aforfusion singer Theodora's biggest 2024 hit songs to date, ‘KONGOLESE SOUS BBL’, has catapulted her ever since to major stardom. What many listeners may ignore, however, is that the track is deeply rooted in Bouyon music. Originating in Dominica in the late 80s, its distinctive, rapid drum pattern is almost always recognisable, sparking the interest of fellow collaborator 63OG in ‘ruiné (comme un dj),’ who revealed to have been his main inspiration. Despite its lyrical content clearly nudging Theodora’s Congolese roots, produced by her own brother Jeez Suave, the song fuses Dominica’s popular music to boost this cross-continental dance anthem.
Perhaps the song of last summer, ‘4 Kampé’ by French-Haitian Konpa singer Joé Dwèt Filé, shouldn’t come as a surprise that he is undoubtedly woven to his roots. Konpa, a dance genre that originated from Haiti in the late 50s, is Joé’s makeup through and through. With the mélange of R&B and Afropop, he is able to retouch the signature sound with a modern approach, making the genre’s rise to watch closely in the coming years. Joé can be vastly credited for the popularization of Konpa in the diaspora and beyond.
One of the main online discourses surrounding the recent surge of the French Antilles regional sounds is that a lot of foreign artists are accused of copying their arrangements, however, without fully crediting the original genres. This has sparked Caribbeans and members of the diaspora to flood the internet with tweets, Instagram comments and TikTok reels demanding their influence to be rightfully acknowledged and legitimately recognized. Not only as a source of inspiration in the modern arena, but also as the main influence to popularize Francophone Afropop and beyond.
Nothing is new under the sun. I think what we’re seeing is different regions battling for international dominance. After the rise of Afrobeats in the early 2020s, it felt as though the skies were the limit. Any member of a niche community now has the opportunity to place their culture on the world map. Little do we need to be reminded that not too long ago, Dancehall was under a similar trajectory in the early 2000s. The answer lies not in our differences, but in coming together to amplify our communities.
Take Fally Ipupa’s feature ‘Doucement’ with Joé Dwèt Filé, for example; they have managed to garner more attention and make more noise together than they would have ever done separately. The collaboration doesn’t feel forced or imbalanced; it is a genuine mashup of two sounds, a heartfelt connection between two regions, Haiti and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, which have a long historical context and unbreakable synergy. The same can be said of Joé Dwèt Filé and Aya Nakamuru joining forces in ‘Baddies.’ It is almost like the world’s colliding from the back of decades of mingling and interacting with one another, both in the diaspora and each sonic landscape.
So are the sounds of French Antilles taking over? The truth is, they have had an imprint for decades, and it is only the rest of the world just catching up. One could say that they are finally getting the global recognition they deserve, and we are all here for it.
The duo, made up of April George and Matthew Thompson, brings a genre-defying album that features sounds familiar to fans of the duo, who came onto the music scene back in 2014. The album itself speaks to a sense of nostalgia, addressing growth and navigation, how the two have transformed as artists, their current state, how global events have impacted them, and how things have shifted post-pandemic. It also includes personal explorations of letting go of trauma and embracing a chapter in their personal and professional journeys.
This is set against the backdrop of their sounds, which can't really be confined to a single sound but rather a fusion of various influences they carry and have infused into their music, specifically on this album. The melodies that flow across the eleven tracks really showcase this variety, not only sonically but also lyrically, as they tell the stories that have brought them to this point in their career.
April & Matt took us through the album, breaking down each track and explaining how the album came to be.
“HELLO”
APRIL GEORGE: We wanted to treat the opening track like a score to set the scene and tone for the album. The sweet, sweeping strings gently place you in the middle of our chaotic world and give you a brief moment to breathe before “Very Bad News” detonates in your face.
MATT THOMPSON: The “hello” samples come from our friends and family. We started using these to open our live sets and to ground ourselves before we began playing. After tour, we knew we needed it to open our album.
“VERY BAD NEWS”
APRIL GEORGE: This song is a sonic explosion, meant to catch you off guard and throw you into the fiery energy of our pure rage. It opens up with a computer voice that sounds almost like one of those esoteric self-help tapes from the 80s. The lyrics were born from my frustration with feeling trapped in the capitalist rat race. I’ve worked a 9-to-5 job while simultaneously pursuing music ever since we started, and needing to do so has bred a lot of frustration for me. When I commute to work, I have a lot of time to think about how cornered I feel, how cornered many of the 99% truly are, some unknowingly. One day, I found myself meditating on the idiom “a fish rots from the head down” and how it reflects the times we’re living in. Very Bad News is a middle finger to the corrupt people and systems that have us all in their tight grip.
“DO WHAT YOU KNOW”
APRIL GEORGE: Do What You Know is an ode to my childhood self; I wanted her to know that life gets better and that we eventually muster up the courage to pursue our dreams. It’s also a reminder that sticking to the virtues that you’re raised on, staying in lockstep with your moral compass, will take you far. It’s funny how all of the cliché bits you might brush off when you’re younger turn out to be pillars that you cling to in your adult life.
MATT THOMPSON: It’s a simple alt-pop tune with a ton of nuance and subtle complexity. It’s our attempt at making a traditional pop record which, funny enough, just so happens to be full of noise.
“TWO EVERGREENS”
APRIL GEORGE: This song is very close to my heart; it’s about my grandmother, Elsie Wilson, who passed away. She encouraged me to be a musician and bought me my first violin; I still play it to this day and named it after her in her honour. I grew up in her home in Portsmouth, VA; she lived in a small ranch-style house bookended by two evergreen trees. I’d climb them as a child in the summer months and get sap all on my hands. Her home meant safety to me, and that warm, all-encompassing feeling inspired the lyrics.
MATT THOMPSON: We initially wrote this song to a different arrangement years prior, and it didn’t quite stick. When I found it in our scrapped drafts, I knew it needed to be heard, so I spruced up the composition, broke out my $50 second-hand acoustic guitar and even sang a little background vocals. Ultimately, I needed to give April all the space she needed to tell her story.
“STANDING IN PLACE”
APRIL GEORGE: Disorder is as beautiful as it is terrifying. It’s a lesson every artist learns when journeying through the not-so-glamorous parts of their career: you have to get comfortable with walking confidently through the dark; doing it scared is the only way you will get to where you belong. We see this song as a sort of final goodbye to our past selves as we evolve and transition into a new form.
MATT THOMPSON: This one has a maddening time signature that probably drove our drummer, Foots, insane when we recorded it. We threw everything into this record, including 4 of our talented friends who became our choir.
“ROT”
APRIL GEORGE: This interlude serves as a palette cleanser right before you dive into the rest of the album; it’s a short experimental motif that we treated like a micro-score. At the time, we were reading a beautiful graphic novel called Stages Of Rot by Linnea Sterte. It takes you thousands of years into the future and chronicles how alien organisms and humanoids on another planet live within their extraterrestrial ecosystem. It centres around a whale-like alien that died and shows how its carcass feeds the ecosystem and organisms that need sustenance. It got me thinking about dilapidation and preservation, about how time is the devourer of things, and about how this album is a fossilisation of our essence and identities as artists.
MATT THOMPSON: We have a bunch of these ambient pieces that we planned to include on the album, and this is one of the interludes that stuck. I love the scratchy melody and the textures that bounce around. It makes me feel like I’m in an old pinball machine.
“BLESS MY HEART”
APRIL GEORGE: This song features our good friend Tony Kill, who we worked with on our EP You Are Here in 2018. It’s an ode to our favourite bands growing up like Gorillaz, Stereolab, and At The Drive In. We admire how they can wrap heavy subject matter in layers of surrealism, shielding it from sounding preachy or forced. Living in the D.C. area - so close to the heart of American politics - makes it hard not to doomscroll your way into despair. This song is our way of reckoning with what it feels like to spin beneath the heavy hand of capitalism.
“LOVE UNSPENT”
APRIL GEORGE: This song is another one that’s dear to me; during the pandemic, two of my friends passed away, and I found myself thinking about my relationship with grief. I stumbled upon the ball-in-a-box analogy, which states that we grow around the grief we hold. It never disappears; rather, it becomes a part of you, evolving with you. The lyrics spilt out from there.
MATT THOMPSON: Very heavy Curtis Mayfield influence here. Specifically his live rendition of “The Makings of You” performed at the Bitter End. We were inspired by 70s soul quite a bit throughout the writing of this album, and I think it’s most apparent here.
“GROTTO”
APRIL GEORGE: After finishing our EP Pit of My Dreams, we found ourselves at a crossroads. The pandemic forced us to be still after years of pushing, and we found ourselves looking for comfort and reassurance that we were on the right track. Rejecting projections of doubt from others and standing firm in the belief that you’re enough on your own brings you closer to that kind of reassurance. This song bloomed from that realisation.
MATT THOMPSON: It’s the first song that we wrote for Traditional Noise, and it reignited our will to keep going. We were directionless after Pit of My Dreams. After I stumbled upon the guitar melody, and April sang that first bar, everything became clear.
“MODIFY YOUR TRADITION”
APRIL GEORGE: This is another micro-score, a final vignette before we close the album. Matt wrote a passage about tradition that illuminates the album's core theme. It says “The thing about tradition, it’s all around you… it silences, it pierces, it compels, it restricts.. it’s safe.”
MATT THOMPSON: This interlude is a reflection of the album’s core theme. We’re fascinated by the idea of tradition and how it informs our faith, our fears, our perception of the world, and how the world perceives us. It can be a safe harbour or a cage.
“MORNING STAR”
APRIL GEORGE: Morning Star is about ancestry; I found myself meditating on what kinds of words, songs, ideas I wanted to leave behind for generations after us. I thought deeply about my heritage as a Black American growing up in the American South, about all of the suffering that my people went through and how we overcame incredible odds. This song is a requiem for those who died before us; when you think of a morning star, you can either think of the weapon of war or the North Star, a signal of hope and freedom for the enslaved. My sister is a clinical psychologist, and she taught me a lot about epigenetics around the time we were writing this record. I learned that the trauma that we face in our ancestry gets passed down through our DNA. While I wrote, I thought about how not only has generational trauma made its way through my lineage, but also how incredible resilience and strength have been passed down through our DNA as well.
MATT THOMPSON: The first version of this song has a beat on it, and it goes crazy, but, like “Two Evergreens”, additional production would only distract from the core theme of this record. The beat is really crazy though…
History-making British-Nigerian rapper, producer, and songwriter Dave, also known as Santan Dave, will headline his first-ever shows in Nigeria on October 16 and 17 at Lagos' Wole Soyinka Centre for Culture and Creative Arts (formerly the National Theatre), bringing his acclaimed The Boy Who Played the Harp tour to a close.
Presented by Live Nation and MASSIVE, the highly anticipated performances represent a significant moment for both Dave and Nigerian audiences. Long celebrated for its unmatched energy, creativity, and influence across music, fashion, nightlife, and art, Lagos continues to shape global culture through the worldwide impact of Afrobeats and a new generation of African creatives redefining entertainment on a global stage. The shows bring one of the most important voices in contemporary British music to one of Africa's most culturally influential cities.
The announcement also comes during a significant cultural moment for the city, following the reopening and renewed spotlight on the iconic Wole Soyinka Center for Culture and Creative Arts (formerly and commonly known as the National Theatre) in Lagos, a historic symbol of Nigeria’s artistic heritage and an important marker of the city’s evolving live entertainment landscape. The performances further reinforce Lagos’ growing position as a global destination for music, entertainment, and large-scale cultural experiences.
The Lagos dates will serve as the closing shows of his global The Boy Who Played the Harp tour, which has included major stops across Europe and North America, as well as previously announced dates in South Africa, including a sold-out show at Grand Arena in Cape Town on October 6. For the British-Nigerian artist, whose parents are Nigerian, the performances also carry a deeper cultural significance. At just 27 years old, Dave has become one of the most influential artists of his generation and recently made history as the first and only UK rap artist to debut three consecutive studio albums at No. 1 on the UK Albums Chart. With multiple BRIT Awards, an Ivor Novello Award, critically acclaimed projects, and sold-out shows around the world, he continues to connect with audiences across continents.
TICKETS: Tickets will be available starting with the Artist Presale beginning on Monday, 8th June at 10 am local time. The general onsale will begin on Tuesday, 9th June at 10 am local time exclusively via SANTANDAVE.COM.
PRESALE: To participate in the artist presale on Monday, June 8 at 10am local time you must sign up at https://santandave.lnk.to/Lagos
THE BOY WHO PLAYED THE HARP TOUR DATES:
Wed Jun 18 – Brisbane, AU – Brisbane Entertainment Centre
Fri Jun 20 – Sydney, AU – Qudos Bank Arena
Mon Jun 23 – Melbourne, AU – Rod Laver Arena
Fri Jun 27 – Perth, AU – RAC Arena
Thu Aug 07 – Skanderborg, DK – Smukfest
Fri Aug 29 – Reading, UK – Reading Festival
Sat Aug 30 – Leeds, UK – Leeds Festival
Fri Oct 03 – Pretoria, ZA – SunBet Arena
Mon Oct 06 – Cape Town, ZA – Grand Arena
Fri Oct 16 – Lagos, Nigeria – Wole Soyinka Center for Culture and Creative Arts NEW DATE
Sat Oct 17 – Lagos, Nigeria – Wole Soyinka Center for Culture and Creative Arts NEW DATE
For years, Starsamm has been building in plain sight. Long before the Nigerian singer-songwriter emerged as one of Afropop's most promising new voices, he was quietly refining his craft behind the scenes–writing songs, developing his sound, and earning the respect of industry insiders who recognized his potential early.
Born Samuel Iseoluwa Awelewa in Osun State, Nigeria, the budding artist’s journey eventually led to a songwriting credit on a Grammy-nominated record, ‘Tomorrow’ by Yemi Alade. This milestone reaffirmed his belief that the years of sacrifice were beginning to pay off. It also helped pave the way for his signing to KeyQaad, the influential Nigerian label known for nurturing distinctive voices such as Omah Lay and Kaestyle.
Since then, Starsamm has steadily carved out a lane of his own. His 2025 debut EP, ‘Love Is War,’ introduced listeners to a young artist documenting romance, longing, and self-discovery in real time. But on ‘Dawn’, his latest project, the perspective shifts. Written during a period marked by personal change, mounting expectations, heartbreak, and sobriety, the EP captures an artist learning how to navigate a new phase of life while remaining emotionally transparent.
In conversation with Deeds, Starsamm reflects on growing up in Osun State, moving to Lagos in pursuit of music, finding his voice through vulnerability, and why ‘Dawn’ represents far more than a new release–it marks the beginning of a new chapter.
Stanley for Deeds Magazine: Right now, in this exact season of your life, who is Samuel when the music is off, and nobody’s watching?
I've always been a family man. A lot of what fuels my hustle is wanting to take care of the people around me. When I'm not making music or out on the road, I'm usually at home trying to build real connections with the people I love. Life on the road ends on the road. Eventually, you have to come back home and connect with your people. I never want my family to feel like Sam only shows up when things aren't going well. I want to be present all the time. That's important to me.
Before there was Starsamm, there was Samuel. What kind of kid were you growing up?
I grew up in Osun State before moving to Lagos when I was around 14 or 15. I've always been a quiet person. Looking back, I spent a lot of time observing people and paying attention to my surroundings. Now that I'm older, I realise some of that was probably ADHD. I was constantly taking mental notes about what was happening around me. Whenever I wanted to express myself, I tended to do it intensely, and sometimes that made me retreat into my shell. So I became the kid who watched everything.
What first made music feel personal to you?
Church was where music became personal. I joined a dance-drama group where people would act on stage while others sang alongside the performance. Watching storytelling and music come together fascinated me. I wanted to be part of it. What's funny is that I wasn't actively listening to a lot of mainstream artists at the time. Most of my friends sounded like the artists they loved. They sounded like Wizkid, Kizz Daniel or Patoranking. I didn't really know those artists well enough to imitate them, so whatever I wrote came directly from me. Looking back, I think that's one of the reasons my music developed its own identity early.
When did music stop being something you loved and start becoming something you needed to pursue?
It happened naturally. I didn't wake up one day and decide I was going to be an artist. I just realised that whenever there were rhythms, melodies, or opportunities to create, I wanted to be involved. When I recorded my first song, I actually hid it from my dad for years because I didn't want to get in trouble. Later, I moved from Osun to Lagos to pursue the dream more seriously. For a teenager, that was a huge decision.
At first, my family worried about stability. They encouraged me to find a job alongside
You spent years building before wider recognition came. What did those years teach you?
It felt like I was writing a story. Leaving my state, moving to Lagos, attending music school, hustling and trying to survive–it all felt like chapters in something bigger. There were moments when I was exhausted. I wasn't going to quit, but I was definitely getting tired. Working with Yemi Alade changed everything for me. When a song I contributed to received Grammy recognition, it shifted something in my mind. I remember thinking: if something I actively worked on can reach that level, then this is only the tip of the iceberg. It reminded me that I was doing something right and that I needed to keep going.
Was there ever a moment when you questioned whether all of this would work out?
Of course. Unless you're completely delusional, everybody has those moments. There are nights when you're staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m., wondering whether you're on the right path. I've had those moments too. But eventually I stopped thinking only about results. Music became my way of life. I started viewing my career as a story that was still being written. Years from now, I won't just look back at songs. I'll look back at memories, sacrifices, lessons, and experiences. That perspective helps me push through uncertainty. Even today, I sometimes look back and think, "I can't believe I've made it this far."
A lot of people describe your music as incredibly vulnerable and emotionally honest. Was that always natural for you, or has music helped you become more open?
Not really. Earlier in my career, I spent a lot of time writing from other people's perspectives. I would take their stories and personalise them. But eventually I started losing myself in that process. The only way out was to become more honest about my own reality. I realised creativity is strongest when it comes from your own point of view. Once I stopped hiding behind other people's stories and started writing about what I was actually experiencing, everything changed.
Why is vulnerability so important to your music?
I think honesty is how you build community. A lot of people want escapism, especially in a place like Nigeria, where life can be difficult. But if you want longevity, you have to give people something deeper than entertainment. When I started meeting fans, I noticed they would open up to me emotionally. Strangers would tell me things they were going through because they felt safe. I think that's because I've opened up in my music first. When people feel like you're being honest, they trust you. That's how real communities are built.
Which artists, whether Nigerian or global, have helped shape the way you think about songwriting and storytelling?
Ed Sheeran was a huge influence on me. He's one of the greatest songwriters I've ever listened to. Beyond the melodies, he tells stories that make people feel something. The Lumineers also had a big impact on me because of their songwriting. Then there was Omah Lay. Listening to him changed something for me creatively. He showed me that storytelling could be deeply Nigerian and still connect universally. Before that, I felt like my songwriting leaned very Western. Omah Lay helped me realise I could embrace my identity, my experiences, and my culture without sacrificing quality. That was a major turning point.
What made KeyQaad feel like the right home for you?
The funny thing is that it happened very naturally. My manager was at the KeyQaad office and played some of my music. One of the CEOs heard it from another room and asked who the artist was. They played more songs, and apparently, both CEOs immediately felt they needed to sign me. What attracted me to KeyQaad was how much they allow artists to remain themselves. There wasn't pressure to become someone else or chase a particular trend. They believed in who I already was, and that meant a lot to me.
Your debut EP, Love Is War, and your latest project, Dawn, feel like two very different chapters. How do you view them now?
‘Love Is War’ came from a very different place in my life. At the time, I wasn't trying to make a project. I was simply documenting my experiences. I was in love, I was making music, and I was enjoying life. The songs reflected that. They were about relationships, emotions, arguments, happiness, and everything that came with it. After the project came out, life changed. Suddenly, there were expectations. There was pressure from the label, pressure from management, and pressure from myself. The same relationship that had inspired so much of the music became harder to sustain because my life was changing so quickly.
That's where ‘Dawn’ begins. It’s me deciding that I want to restart my life. I had achieved things I once thought were impossible, but I realised success also brings new challenges. I needed to learn how to live this new life and how to manage everything that came with it. Unlike ‘Love Is War,’ which happened naturally, ‘Dawn’ was a very conscious project. These songs came from late-night thoughts, difficult conversations, anxiety, heartbreak, and self-reflection.
I used to smoke heavily, and while working on the EP, I decided to get sober. That decision forced me to sit with my thoughts instead of escaping them. There were emotions I couldn't run from anymore. There were memories I had to confront. Songs like ‘Sober’ came directly from those moments. ‘Dawn’ became a record about clarity, acceptance, and learning how to move forward. For me, it's more than just another project. It's the beginning of a new version of myself.
What do you hope people take away from Dawn?
I want people to listen to my music from a first-person perspective. I want them to imagine that they're the ones speaking the words and feeling the emotions. If they do that, they'll understand what I was going through when I made these songs. More than anything, I want people to feel safe, to feel understood, and like they're listening to someone who understands what they're going through because he's lived through similar things himself. And moving forward, I want to keep exploring that through Afri-pop. I want to continue blending strong songwriting with African rhythms and sounds while telling stories that feel honest and personal. That's always been the goal!
Thirty-three degrees is a dream for any Londoner. Now, imagine that with the infamous thrill of a long weekend. Nothing but good vibes and the scream “Melissa! I’m drunk and outside.” With summer just around the corner, the late May bank holiday is often the harbinger of what’s to come. And on Monday, the 25th of May, 2026, City Splash Festival in Brixton set the tone for a summer filled with nothing but enjoyment, with the weather simply subscribing to the fact.
Held in Brockwell Park, one of London’s infamous hubs for Black culture, City Splash held its sixth celebration of Caribbean and African culture. A lineup featuring artists and DJs specialising in everything from reggae to garage, held space for every kind of creative and a party that had people more than happy to work up a sweat.
Calling themselves “The Home of Culture,” the festival showcases the world's most exciting talent of today, championing Jamaican music, Black soundsystem culture, and emerging talent across the UK, Caribbean, and African diasporas. This year, that looked like the likes of trending rapper JELEEL!, dancehall legend Jada Kingdom, Soca up-and-comer V’ghn, homegrown talent BXKS, Afrobeats artist Juls, and over 70 others.
Upon entrance to the park, the smell of salty sweat, spiced food, and earthy weed is fresh. With a long day ahead under the sun, crowds as far as the eye can see are sitting under shaded tables, fanning themselves beneath tented sets, and shimmying their way around the grounds.
The first stage, known as Formula Baad, held a selection of acts from around the world. Two of note were Parisian DJ Daddy Chulo, who stacked up the Francophone energy and, later on in the day, JELEEL!. With his catchy tunes grounded in Afrobeat sound, his emigration from the US to the UK has given him a crowd that can never seem to get enough of him.
What felt like a long walk under the beating sun rewarded guests with an array of food stands, water stations, market stalls, and bar sites as they wandered through the park. Dubbed the “purveyors and advocates for Black music, food, dance and style,” the festival’s partnership with Black Eats LDN kept the vibes going from the stages to the picnic tables. Home to over 60 food traders, festival goers had their choice from authentic Caribbean dishes, like jerk chicken and curry goat, to the basics, like pizza and fried chicken. Even going as far as Asian cuisine with Bao Mi stands, Japanese-style rice bowls, and Korean fried chicken.
And the day wasn’t complete with just music and food. At the far right side of the park, the Rastafari Reasoning Corner held conversations about empowerment, social progress, and industry growth with artists and creatives - grounding the day in cultural resonance. Women dressed in their finest carnival costumes made their way around as shops selling Caribbean essentials and merchandise enticed even the most frugal eye.
A group of smaller stages and activations were scattered around the green lawns as well, including CeraVe’s sunscreen station, RedBull’s energy zone, and Casamigos’ beach-house pop-up serving drinks, dancing, and DJs throughout the day. Soca music streamed from the Rampage Sound stage as Grenadian singer V’ghn led the crowd in a summer crash course filled with Jab Decisions.
At the far end of the park, the Reload stage got everyone prepped and primed for the biggest names. Where drinks were flowing and ice cream cones being licked, performers Loyal Squad played the classics we grew up on as the crowds drew closer to the Yaad for premier acts. As Gyptian serenaded the beautiful ladies, Elephant Man and Aidonia held the crowd with back-to-back high-energy sets, before the sun set to the sound of smooth mixes by Seani B.
The last of the festivities came to a close as people scrambled to food stalls and drink stations before the main event. The festival’s biggest performer and, perhaps, most anticipated was Reggaeton legend Beres Hammond, who was set to close out the night with an exclusive UK performance.
Known for his 30-year-long career filled with lover’s rock jams, the crowd filled with young and old alike swayed and sang to old classics like Tempted to Touch and an expanse of his melodic discography. “Family,” Hammond yelled to the crowd. “What a combination. It’s England and Beres… in the same room!”
The final notes of his iconic song Rock Away fell upon the crowd as the stars rose and the cool of the night washed over London.
The sky painted a picturesque scene for the walk back to the train stations, as another successful fete for the diaspora and its culture came to an end. With 30,000 people to tell the tale, City Splash’s finger is on the pulse of the diaspora, bringing the culture together and calling the shots. Bank holiday and City Splash - what a combination, indeed.
IG: @clungaho
There was a time when music videos demanded patience. You watched them from beginning to end because the visual itself felt like an event. Directors treated music videos like miniature films, complete with story arcs, emotional pacing, costume changes, dramatic pauses, and cinematic reveals. Whether it was the glossy spectacle of early 2000s hip-hop or the aspirational storytelling that shaped older Afrobeats visuals, music videos once existed as experiences meant to hold a viewer’s attention for four uninterrupted minutes.
Today, many music videos seem designed for a completely different audience; people scrolling with one thumb.
Across Afrobeats, hip-hop, and pop music, directors are increasingly creating visuals that are not just meant to be watched, but redistributed. The modern music video now lives across TikTok clips, Instagram Reels, reaction edits, fan pages, and repost accounts. In many cases, the most important moment in a music video is no longer the ending or storyline. It is the fifteen-second clip that survives outside the video itself.
The shift is impossible to ignore. Asake’s visuals often thrive through chaotic crowd scenes, surreal transitions, repetitive choreography, and highly stylized frames that feel engineered for replayability. Rema has mastered dramatic imagery and fashion-forward aesthetics that frequently circulate online as standalone screenshots. Tyla’s visual appeal is deeply tied to movement, rhythm, and dance culture, making her videos naturally adaptable to short-form platforms.
This visual language extends beyond Afrobeats. In hip-hop, artists like Playboi Carti and Travis Scott lean into hyperactive editing styles, distorted visuals, chaotic lighting, and imagery that mirrors the pace of internet consumption itself. The audience has changed, and directors are adapting accordingly. A listener rarely experiences music in one place anymore. A song might first appear as a dance challenge on TikTok, then show up in a meme compilation on X, before eventually leading someone to the full video on YouTube weeks later. Music videos are no longer expected to function only as complete narratives. They must now survive fragmentation. Every frame has to compete for attention independently.
This is perhaps why modern visuals feel faster, louder, and overstimulating than before. Rapid cuts, exaggerated colour grading, dramatic transitions, choreographed “viral moments”, and instantly recognizable aesthetics now dominate contemporary music videos. Directors understand that if a visual cannot generate conversation online within seconds, audiences may never engage with the full piece at all.The traditional music video rewarded immersion. Videos unfolded slowly, allowing emotion, storytelling, and symbolism to build naturally. Older hip-hop and R&B visuals often relied on cinematic narratives that mirrored film culture. Early Afrobeats visuals also leaned heavily into aspirational storytelling, luxury imagery, romance, nightlife, and carefully paced performance scenes. Now, the emphasis is increasingly placed on replayability rather than narrative depth.
This is not necessarily a bad thing. In many ways, short-form culture has pushed directors to become more inventive as audiences consume visuals so quickly; artists are experimenting more boldly with fashion, choreography, editing, animation, humour, and unconventional camera work. Internet culture rewards visual distinctiveness, and many directors are responding with more daring creative choices. For African artists especially, this shift has opened new possibilities. Virality allows artists to travel globally without relying entirely on traditional media systems. A dance clip, transition sequence, or striking visual frame can circulate across continents within hours. Artists no longer need audiences to sit through entire interviews or television appearances to gain recognition. Sometimes, one visually memorable moment is enough. Yet something has undeniably been lost alongside this evolution.
Narrative-driven music videos are becoming increasingly rare. The slower pacing that once allowed viewers to emotionally connect with visuals is disappearing beneath rapid editing and constant stimulation. Some videos feel built for the algorithm, not for the story. Even the structure of music itself has started to change in response. Songs are shorter. Hooks arrive faster. Beat switches happen earlier. Visuals now mirror the same urgency. The goal is no longer simply to create art that resonates emotionally, but content that survives circulation. The modern music video exists in an era where attention itself has become currency. Maybe that is why today’s visuals often feel disjointed. Directors are no longer creating solely for television screens or YouTube premieres. They are creating for phone screens, repost culture, fan edits, and infinite scrolling timelines. The “moment” now matters more than the sequence.
This does not mean music videos are dying. Maybe they are simply evolving into a new visual language altogether.
A generation raised online does not necessarily remember entire music videos the way previous generations did. They remember frames. A dance move. A transition. A facial expression. A fashion look. A screenshot. A ten-second clip attached to a trending sound. The clip itself has become part of the storytelling process. In that sense, directors are not just filming for music anymore. They are filming for circulation. They are creating visuals designed to move through the internet at the same speed as culture itself. And perhaps the real question is no longer whether music videos are losing depth. The more uncomfortable question is whether virality has become our generation’s preferred form of storytelling.
Photo credit: Adobe stock
Anybody who was not present at the Piano People Scorpion Kings show this weekend missed a day for the books. Kicking off festival season and the summer vibes in London, the sun was shining, the heat was at a high, and the vibes were flowing perfectly throughout Barking Park. With the anticipation for the Scorpion Kings' London return already at an all-time high, the duo came and once again left no crumbs. Playing a three-hour set, they once again showed why there is actually nobody like the Scorpion Kings, and they really are the kings of the game.
Before we got to the main act of the day, the vibes were set from the beginning. Arriving at the park almost halfway through the day meant we missed the early sets, but entering just in time to catch Sam Deep meant the vibes were set strong for us. Playing the Second Location stage, his set came at the peak of the heat and sunshine, and yet that did not stop a single person from vibing along, which started off with smooth vibes before going into his crowd favourites. Playing his latest single ‘Izospana’, which features Thatohatsi and Zuma, the crowd was already vibing to it despite it only being out for three days prior. The Shelaholics were also active and ready as soon as his hit came over the speakers, having everybody losing their minds and singing along at the top of their lungs. The rest of his set continued with other tracks, such as the Thatohatsi-featured standout ‘Who I Am’ track ‘Thandaza ’.
From Sam Deep, we paid a brief visit to the Groove Station and caught the Qqom vibes, which we indulged in. One thing that was evident throughout the day is there was really something for everybody. With a rich diversity of South African sounds in the lineup, there was a strong display of South African music and the love and popularity it has travelled beyond its borders.
A standout of the day was none other than Dlala Thuzkin, who, having now seen him perform live three times, has never performed a bad set. As the lead-up to the main act, the energy he brought to the masses on the main stage got everybody excited for the kings. As someone who has been a pioneer in the 3-Step space, he delivered a set that felt like the perfect moment at golden hour. The ladies of the mainstage, Thatohatsi & Tracy, also proved that they really are the top-tier vocalists that they are, as their vocals rang from the front to the back of the stage, bringing songs like ‘Abantwana Bhako’ to life in a different way that was sensational to experience.
The Scorpion took to the stage and once again delivered a killer set that made three hours feel more like 30 minutes. If there was ever a question about the hype of Scorpion Kings as a duo, they really bring something different to the table. With Kabza’s gospel-soulful vibes, he ushered in the set very smoothly as we watched the sun set. Only to be matched by Maphorisha’s high-energy hits, he delivered. Joined by Uncool MC, who hosted the main stage all day and did what was needed without doing too much from an MC, allowing the Kings to shine. Their set certainly delivered and was worth all the wait. Never ones to disappoint, the range they bring not only of their songs but of amapiano in general really shows their star power in how they continue to showcase the genre, no matter the stage they are on.
Overall, the day was a stunning vibe of music, food, drinks, and a cultural celebration of Amapiano and Southern African music and its global impact, which it continues to hold.
On what felt like officially the beginning of summer, the masses gathered to London’s O2 Area to experience the legendary DJ that is Black Coffee take the centre stage joined by an orchestra as well as a few guest performers on stage as he played a 3 hour + set.
The moment was no doubt a monumental one for him and brought his fans together for a unique offering. Accompanied by various musicians who brought their vocals to the O2 stage as they came on stage one by one. Stand out moments included an appearance by Msaki who joined him to perform their hit Wish You Were Here, as well as Delilah Montagu who performed Drive and even Alicia Keys who joined him to perform In Common. And as those moments brought the energy and love to the crowd to an all time high.
The set that spanned 3 hours from when he came on at 7:45 was one that catered to the UK crowd. Bringing his collaborations from all over and infusing them all throughout his set. There was a moment in time which felt that perhaps sounded like it had fallen into one and called for an opportunity to bring back some of his classic hits. Having never experienced him before there was nothing to go off on except for the high expectations and hoping for some of his older hits.
The set up itself was one that served its purpose with him centred in the arena on stage with the standing crowd all around him and the orchestra playing behind and surrounding him on stage for the moment they were on stage before they departed and came back towards the end of the show. The energy of the crowd definitely vibrated across the space of the arena and was very apparent throughout the duration of the show.
For all that was achieved it was certainly a moment for Black Coffee and marked another significant moment in his career and the levels he has been able to reach. Yet it somewhat felt like a reminder of what it really means to a global artist and such catering your sound for certain crowds in where you go in terms of how it impacts your sound and the music you make. In the case of Black Coffee who has become so global and playing for crowds with various musical palettes there felt like a bit of a loss to the classic sound of Black Coffee. However the sentiment there is no doubt that this moment was a monumental one in the levels that he has been able to reach and his position in the international music scene.
Before We Fall Asleep came Before The Morning Light. One ends the day; the other starts it.
Johnny Drille is there before the day closes and before it opens, a cyclic love, all the way through. Five years between albums, and what a return. What a poet.
Johnny shows tremendous growth in sound and range on this project. Originally known for his British-inflected folk-pop, he now moves freely between pidgin, American and British cadences.
Every track carries a dreamy, intentional quality celebrating love, acknowledging its trials without condemning them, lifting the listener. For anyone who still believes in love, Johnny is that artist, and Before The Morning Light is the clearest proof yet of that conviction. Sequenced with intention, the album moves like a relationship itself, early wonder, deeper commitment, occasional ache, and a closing resolve that this is the one you're limited forever is for.
"In Time", featuring Angélique Kidjo, opens the album, and their voices blend beautifully, each expressing love in their respective native dialects. A Grammy-winning artist on track one? You already know what kind of album you're in for. "Mind" is where the pidgin lands best, fluent and completely at home in the melody. It's amazing hearing pidgin sung the way Johnny does. "Blown Away" carries beautiful strings underneath the feeling of being undone by someone, every single day, with the standout line: "If no be you, then I no do love again."
"Colorado", featuring Ayra Starr and Young Jonn, the album's pilot single, has garnered over six million streams on Spotify. Ayra's ‘no be by who perfect’ is one of the most quotable lines on the entire record, funny, because this song kind of is. "Waste Your Time" featuring Jerub speaks directly to someone carrying old heartbreak, telling her he is not that story. "Chokehold" featuring Aquila blends so naturally with Johnny as he speaks on a woman who has him completely and will not let go.“'Last Forever” has a cool flow that suits his tone with the resounding words, 'Girl, I want you in my world, you got my back, and I got yours, imma protect you with my life, my heart, my love.’ In “No Yawa”, he reinstates forever love to his lover, saying he's her sure plug, ‘No yawa for you.’
Fireboy on "Angelina" is a solid track. Tiwa Savage on "Over The Moon" outdoes herself, full stop.
Johnny probes the sour era of the relationship with Nonso Amadi on “What is this Love”, asking why the change in their connection; ‘Why so unsure…what you want more?’ putting his foot forward in fixing it.
Lojay on "Speak Up" carries a lost love confession so honestly it aches, a painful reminisce. "Baby, I still need your love, I still think of us."
"I'm Available" has top-tier production with over a million streams already, and a simple promise: "I'm available anytime you call me”
"Second Chance" closes the album with honest words: "God knew what I needed, so he gave me you." Perfect for a wedding. Perfect for an album entirely about choosing to believe in love.
With all the noise in the world right now: Divisions, disillusionment, the gender wars playing out online.
Johnny Drille quietly shows defiance in believing in romance and love. He holds a lighter in the dark and speaks from the heart, unabashedly. Before The Morning Light is a solid 10/10 and genuinely a beautiful listen.
IG:| @zoannafr
A sixth sold out appearance at the O2 Arena finalised a homecoming, crowned in glory and cloaked in anticipation, for 28-year old singer and songwriter Rachel Keen, better known as Raye. The final show of her global tour on the 20th of May for her second studio album, This Album May Contain Hope, marked her independent debut and solidified her as an artist in the truest sense of the word.
The tour - a personal and professional triumph - was a family affair, opened by the singer’s two younger sisters, Amma and Absolutely.
Starting the night with a nostalgic sound, reminiscent of Y2k whimsy, middle child Lauren Keen, professionally known as Amma, held the audience in her hands as she joked and chatted between songs. A joy in energy and presence, the singer’s tenderly familiar tone and lyrical prowess shone through hits from her solo project Middle Child and a comforting rendition of The Climb.
As she floated off the stage, the youngest of the three strutted in with an allure that was all her own. What her sister exposed in glowing vulnerability, Abby-Lynn Keen, known by the moniker Absolutely, continued breaking away with cutting lyrics wrapped in electronic and alte-R&B rhythms. From a shy girl “deathly afraid of performing and being seen by people” to a woman having performed over 50 shows in a year, Absolutely’s performance was grounded in a unique prose that set the scene for the story of hope everyone came to see.
In true eldest sister fashion, Raye appeared on stage beaming with pride for her sisters and, what I imagine to be, excitement for the performance to come. Covered head to toe in a hooded gown, the set began with the story of depression and despair that had plagued the Tooting-born vocalist. As trumpeters and violinists scurried across the stage, the dark rain cloud that boomed overhead stood no chance as the curtains opened, and the hope that was once contained, spread around the arena.
A six-time Brit award winner and three-time Grammy nominee, Raye’s vocal expertise and knack for artistry was never really in question. Widely known as one of the best artists of this generation, the stakes were high. As the night went on, though, a reverence for the art of performing bled through the night in an indescribable way. The kind that solidifies legends and stakes claim to mastery.
The album’s tracklist emphasised heavy jazz influences and symphonic melodies throughout, with mentions of pop, blues and classical laced in the seasonal shift in songs. Opening strong with her now infamous track from the summer season of the album, Where the Hell is my Husband set the tone for the kind of performance to expect from performers to come. The inclusion of a brass section, live strings, soulful background vocals, and an interactive set created an immersive experience from the standing room to the seating area. Flowing seamlessly into tracks like Beware.. The South London Lover Boy, Flip a Switch, and Winter Woman brought the characteristic storytelling style we’ve come to love from the songstress into full effect. Annotated screens, her flowing bob flipping to the choreography, and the soulful tact applied to a discography with a range as far and wide as her dreams will take her.
Where the attention to detail was placed in the album, the same was felt in the production. Changing from a concert venue to a jazz bar to a rave, Raye’s versatility was on full display - regaling the crowd with stories behind beloved tracks, a plea for some much-needed deodorant (her words not mine), and a venerating vocal performance that tackled everything from modern day dating to the traumas, pain, strength, and rebirth of humans.
The only disappointment came when the night ended. As her sisters Amma and Absolutely rejoined her on stage in an upbeat production of their song Joy, the crowd lingered for a promised encore in throes. As promised, as quickly as the curtains closed, they went right back up to a boisterous performance of her hit song Escapism.
The only disappointment came when the night ended. As her sisters Amma and Absolutely rejoined her on stage in an upbeat production of their song Joy, the crowd lingered for a promised encore in throes. As promised, as quickly as the curtains closed, they went right back up to a boisterous performance of her hit song Escapism.
In her final moments on stage, Raye thanked the crowd profusely, speaking of her plans to escape to the countryside for some rest, reflection, and a chance to let the reality of her life sink in.
But while she’ll be in the meadows, the rest of us will be escaping to the memories of the final night of her This Tour May Contain New Music - writing her name amongst the greats.
Not speaking French might actually be the most honest position from which to review this album.
For years, Tayc has built an audience that extends far beyond francophone listeners, largely because his music has never depended entirely on language but feeling which comes before the translation does.
JOŸA leans fully into that reality and turns it into the project’s greatest strength.
The album arrives after one of the most emotionally charged periods of Tayc’s career. Over the past year, the French-Cameroonian artist hinted repeatedly at stepping away from music, posting cryptic visuals that left fans unsure whether they were watching a rollout or a goodbye. Then came silence. When JOŸA finally emerged, It felt like someone who had been through something returning to the only thing that made sense. JOŸA dropped the same day as Drake's Iceman, an album that came with two additional projects, making three albums. Tayc did not move his date, a decision that makes sense if you are completely sure of your audience, sound and numbers. He is playing the long game because his music is one that eases into people over time.
“Y- Prologue: 2 Mai 1826” opens like the beginning of a film rather than a streaming-era intro track. Sounds of metal cutting through soil sit underneath soft piano passages while orchestral textures slowly rise around Tayc’s voice. He has described the album as a project shaped by reconnecting with his roots, and the opener establishes that atmosphere before the listener fully understands where the album is heading.
“Girlfriend” is an example of that balance. Built around an interpolation of You Rock My World by Michael Jackson, the track could have easily collapsed into cheap nostalgia. Instead, Tayc reshapes the warmth of the original into something softer and intimate.
"Need" pulls from the same instinct. The music video portrayed Tayc as James Brown, singing, drumming, on the trumpet, on the guitar, performing on a family's television screen. Reminding us of the greats and putting himself in that conversation.
(Tayc via Instagram)Across JOŸA, Tayc moves between romance, chaos and vulnerability without letting the album settle in one place for too long. “Dive In” reveals its most reckless side, turning a messy situationship into something almost triumphant as Tayc bluntly tells his girlfriend that another woman simply does it better. The man is basically confessing to disaster over perfect production, and somehow it works. Then there is “Koki & Plantain,” one of the album’s most culturally rooted moments, where Tayc compares love to the iconic Cameroonian pairing in a way that feels personal rather than performative.
The features on JOŸA complement Tayc's voice. RnBoi on "Maman Prie," Aya Nakamura on "Va Loin" and Masego on "Masterpiece" each slot in so well you stop noticing where Tayc ends and they begin. Before any of this, Tayc screened a short film at a cinema in Paris before a single track was available to stream.
What makes JOŸA particularly interesting for Anglophone listeners is that it works less through literal meaning and more through feeling. Even without understanding every lyric, you can still follow where the songs are going emotionally through the pauses in Tayc’s delivery, the crack in his voice at the end of certain lines and the way the choirs rise behind him.
IG: @zoannafr
“I knew what I wanted to say, and I spoke up a lot more in the studio. I was very meticulous with everything, and I just felt like I was getting back to my sense of self, and that's something that I really discovered in this process.” British singer-songwriter Konyikeh shares about the process of creating her third EP, Cinere. The project begins with a simple, somewhat haunting sound on the opening track “Buyer’s Remorse,” which once again brings her deep, rich vocals to the forefront amid a stunning piano-and-string arrangement. It begins the journey across the 7-track EP, bringing a fresh vibe to her and introducing us to a more elevated, evolved version of the singer we met back in 2023.
“I was very meticulous in the process of making this project, and the songs were extremely personal to me. I want people to listen to this music and take in everything around it.” She shares about the making of this EP. Everything from the sequencing to the instrumentation, arrangements and everything in between was carefully crafted and considered for the listener's experience. The project, which plays for a total of 15 minutes across the 7 tracks, really does bring an effortless and smooth process as you weave between tracks and once again displays her as an artist who feels like a breath of fresh air cutting through the clutter of noise that exists in the musical landscape and brings something new and refreshing to the table.
The EP, which follows 2024’s Problem With Authority, represents a shift not just sonically, bringing together a variety of sounds into the project she has tapped into, but also another layer of her artistry in how she has presented herself. For her, the shift has brought back a true sense of herself and her love for the music she is creating. There is a rawness and openness that comes through in what she says and in the topics she speaks about on the project. That presentation has been really intentional about what she wants to say and how she has represented where she is and everything it has taken to reach this point in her journey.
Speaking with Konyikeh, we caught up on everything from making the EP to regaining control, expressing vulnerability, finding your voice, and more.
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Congratulations on the release, Cinere. This is your third EP, and so even getting to this point and putting the project out, how does this feel for you?
I feel like I've always trusted myself as a musician since I started making music. This is the first EP where I've had to really become an artist, build a visual world around the music I've made for this project, and just think about every single thing. I’m so passionate about it. I was very meticulous in the process of making this project, and the songs being extremely personal to me, that attention to detail is super important, and in the world that we live in, where everyone's attention span is so short, I want people to listen to this music and take in everything around it. I feel like this project, I've really pushed myself and, in a way, yes, it's my third project, but I feel like it's the first project, also, in a sense, with an extremely clear vision. The first two projects were learning experiences and helped me find my footing, whereas this one was very clear about what I wanted it to be and how I wanted to make it.
With the entire process of creating the EP. How did that experience differ for this EP compared to the previous ones?
The first project was a collection of songs I'd written, and I still very much stand by that body of work. I still think it flows together beautifully. The second project was a collection of songs that people thought was good and I put it out, but there was no real cohesive thread behind it, So coming into my third EP I had to force myself to trust myself, Bar the last song, “There For Me (Freestyle)” was written in 2021 I made the project within a two, three month period in 2025. I worked with the same three producers: the production duo DUKE (David Dyson and Luke Grieve), and Charlie Perry, whom I had worked with before. Those are the only people I worked with, including myself, obviously, and that was something I loved. In my first EP, I had worked with just one producer and really liked it, so with this one, I knew I wanted to keep it small. I knew what I wanted to say, I was very meticulous with everything, and I just felt like I was getting back to myself. That is something I really discovered in this process: I need to understand who I am and how to iterate that understanding with others, so I can understand that as well.
You are someone who has always been very open in your music, and even on this EP, you are very open and raw. So, even in how you express yourself and your emotions, is that something that has always been easy for you?
I think because, especially as a woman, as a black woman, we're so constrained and put into boxes, and you always have to be self-pleasing, not always able to be ourselves, and so for me, I feel like if I can't have one medium where I can be completely honest, then what the hell is the point? I find it extremely cathartic, like just putting it all out, and if you listen, you listen, and if you don't, you don't. I hate that other people can relate to it because it's not a feeling that I'd want other people to relate to. It is quite a selfish act, and it's so freeing not to have to think, Oh, can I say this, or can I say that, or can I do this, or can I do that? And just put it into a medium that I love, and like it's heard by other people, and like people can find comfort in that.
As you listen to the EP, one thing that stands out is the variety of sounds you hear throughout. You can hear all sorts of musical influences and styles. So when you were approaching this sonically, in terms of what you wanted it to sound like, how did that come together?
What I like about this project is that I went into it thinking I'm just gonna lay down a bunch of ideas. I didn't go in saying, "I want to achieve this, I want to do this, I want to do this," which is something I usually apply in every other aspect of my life. It was literally whatever flowed. With “Mercenary”, I was listening to a lot of Amapiano and Gqom at the time with the log drums; I was obsessed with that sound. I was also listening to a lot of Arabic scales and that type of sound, and then I was like, re-listening to Les Misérables, which is one of my favourite musicals, and I love the gang vocals from there. There was no, I want to tap into this. I want to tap into this. It was an amalgamation of everything, and I just want to make something I want to listen to that taps into my feelings and makes me feel what I want it to.
Even though it's seven tracks, I thought of it as an A-side and a B-side. I made “Miserere”, which I think is like track five, like a kind of palette cleanser that, like soft watches you into, like the softer side of the EP with “BlackThorne” and “There For Me” coming off the back of “Jealous”, which has all the drums and is quite a big song. After I put the tracklist together, everything was so meticulous, down to the second, and it has been curated for the listener's experience. I just want people to be able to tune out of the world for 15 minutes and just listen.
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Talk to me about the visual aspects of the EP, since you have put out a couple of videos for the project, and that's always been a strong part of your process: working with the music to bring it to life. So how did you approach these for the EP?
So with my previous EPs, I’ve always done my videos by sending the song to a bunch of directors, who come back with a treatment, and we do it that way. This time, I focused on the ideas and what I wanted them to be, and I wrote them down meticulously. This is what's going on, and I want this to be the idea. So it was just a case of me needing someone to help elevate this, like, a shot list and all that. Every music video that's coming out has come out, I've written everything down, down to what I want the location to look like, what the casting should look like. Even giving proposed shots, and all that stuff. I thought it would be harder than it was, but I used to be a photographer, which kind of helped. The visuals have been really important. I love consuming art, whether it's paintings or photos, and I've spent a lot of time in galleries and museums over the past year or so. Even just on Pinterest, that was like a huge reference point as well. So yeah, just building that world around it has been super important.
How do you find that inspiration? Going beyond just the visuals, but even in the things that fuel or interest you and speak to you creatively?
I think it’s just like immersion therapy; it's definitely quality over quantity. If you expose yourself to a lot of art and all mediums, from theatre to concerts and all that stuff, you never know how it can come out in the studio. You just file things away in your brain and can pull them out as a reference. For example, the cover art for my EP was inspired by a picture I saw on Twitter from a film, which prompted me to watch it and use it as a set of different reference points. Even watching things, for example, TV shows where you see things that may visually look interesting or hearing something sonically somewhere, I find that it's just having things and storing them in your brain that you can pull out musically, visually, as reference points at a later point that speaks to me creatively.
In speaking to the starting process of the EP, where would you say it began, as to when you knew that it was something you were working towards, as opposed to just making music?
So actually, I started this process in January 2025. It was a very weird time for me, and I ended up in the studio. I literally was like, I have nothing else to do, so I just said fuck it, I'm just gonna be as raw and open. And that was actually a session I had with Charlie. It was very cathartic, and we were working on a song. It was a session where I wanted a lot of instrumentation, all the stuff, and it took me two days to emotionally recover from that session. I played it for the people I work with, and they liked it, but it was like oh maybe this is a bit too honest. So I said to myself, unless I can make something better, I'm still gonna release this other song. But then I made something better: “Buyer’s Remorse”. I also had my first conversation with DUKE, and that was “Vulnerability”. I remember the first half of vulnerability hadn't been finished, and I was going on tour, I was playing some new material, and I was like, I need to finish this one because I can't wait to play it live. So that was when I knew I had something to work with. What turned out to be “Buyer's Remorse” and “Vulnerability” were the real starting things for the EP.
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When it comes to how you’ve spoken about making the EP in the meticulousness of everything, and really taking everything into your own hands and leading every single process. How has that been like in terms of actually finding that voice and being able to take this control and really assert yourself when it comes to working with other people and just being able to find your voice in expressing yourself in this way?
With my first EP, I already had the songs written. So I had made that EP myself, and it was very much a "take it or leave it" project. I am extremely stubborn and headstrong, and that has ruined a lot of things for me in the past. I am someone who doesn't crave external validation, and any validation I do seek is unfortunately tied to my work. I know people liked my second EP and responded to it very well; however, I wasn't necessarily proud of the music I put on it, and it made me extremely insecure, and I felt that bled into other parts of my life. And I knew that I didn’t want to feel that way ever again.
So now, with this process, I've been much stricter; I set high standards and expect the people I work with to at least do their best. It's been a really hard process, but I have found some people to work with who also take their work seriously and hold themselves to a high standard. From Maria the girl who shot my cover art, to the girl who does my nails, she does things to a very high standard. So it's been a lot. It's been a process, and I've had to learn a lot myself, so I at least have a baseline standard, and anyone coming in can build on that. I feel like I'm going back to my 15/16-year-old self, who had unshakable confidence and knew right from wrong. Also, I think it's important to always speak with kindness and give people grace, but don't let people take the piss, because people will take the fucking piss.
So even in the era that you're in now, what does that feel like for you? And what are you excited about and looking forward to in this next phase?
I think before, I had a way of thinking of the studios as work. I didn't really associate work with fun. But I feel like, after this process and while making this project, I felt so free in the studio that I allowed myself to have fun. Now I find myself looking forward to studio sessions, learning new things, like learning past my voice, like feeling free, and sometimes I can just get something off my chest. Like, sometimes I can just have, like, the most fun. And like, I'm super, super excited to perform this project live, all my other music, all this new stuff that I'm working on live. So I'm just so excited to play this music live, build new worlds. And I feel like I'm growing, it sounds so stupid, because I have discovered a sense of self. And I feel like I've transitioned and I'm growing up. And just curating everything with an intention. But my big thing, I just wanna have fun. I just wanna have the best time farming, expand my musical palate, and discover new artists I haven't listened to in a long time that I'm loving. So, yeah, I'm just big on having fun.
Most people who know Nsikak David‘s name know it through someone else’s record. He is the guitarist on Tems’ Grammy-winning ‘Love Me Je Je’, the lead producer on her Grammy-nominated ‘Boy O Boy’, and the man who conceived No Love in Lagos - the celebrated joint album by Show Dem Camp and The Cavemen that has surpassed 10 million streams. For 18 years, he has been the most important person in rooms that rarely put his name on the door.
Strings of Solace, his debut solo EP, is the first time Nsikak David has made something entirely for himself. Fully instrumental, city-named, released without expectation and received with more warmth than he anticipated - it is an audio documentary of a life spent on the road, distilled into guitar. We spoke about where it all began, what the guitar says that words cannot, and why Nigeria needed an instrumental EP, whether it knew it or not.
Before we get into it, how are you doing?
I’m okay. I’m all right.
(laughs) You know, I think in Akwa Ibom, it’s Abadie, if I’m correct?
Oh yeah! I see you’ve been learning something.
My mom is from Akwa-Ibom
Oh wow. Amazing. That’s great. So you speak a bit, or is that the only thing you know how to speak?
I think I know the part about food.
Yeah. I mean, at least you know the part about food, so that’s cool.
Take me back to the beginning. What was your earliest memory of music, and when did you know it was going to be your life?
Honestly, I would say I never really planned for it. I’d say it just came to me. If I say where the beginning was, I’d say maybe I was like five or so, in the church choir. Everybody here, we all started from the church. I remember just watching people play the instrument, and I was fascinated. It always started with me trying to learn the drums. I was just watching people play. I was always thrilled when I saw drummers. I’m like, yeah, I really want to learn this. That’s how it began.
After the drums, I found a new love, which was keyboards. Then I went to the bass. And then ultimately, I started playing the guitar, which felt like the thing I connected to more. It felt like my own identity. What I feel most comfortable playing. I feel extra connected to it. So it wasn’t like I planned for it. I never knew that today I’d be a musician. I just loved the thing. And I just kept on doing it, really.
The guitar became your instrument after moving through several others. What made it the one?
It’s really not like switching. It’s just like I wanted to learn more stuff. But there’s something you feel when you just hit that instrument - you feel like, amongst all these, this is the one that I really connect to. It feels like something I can play even while sleeping. Like an extension of me. That’s the guitar.
The other stuff I learned, they are still very much important in my life to date. I still play those instruments. But I’m just saying that the one that is just me, wake me up tomorrow - is the guitar. It’s like how you have a favourite pair of shoes. You have different shoes, but you must have tried different styles to know, oh, this is the one that fits me.
When you pick up a guitar, what are you actually trying to say that words cannot?
Guitar, for me, is my tool of communication. You know how people have different languages? Some people can speak Ibibio better, some people can speak English better. Amongst all my means of communication, I would say the guitar is the one with which I can communicate fluently. And it’s another thing - we musicians, we’re always spiritual. So it’s something that I can hear from the spirit, and I can play it there.
Most people who know your name know it because of someone else’s record. How do you sit with that?
I feel like it’s something good. Because if you know me from someone else’s record, it means that record must have been great. It means I did something great on that project. So I don’t feel any type of way. It’s still part of who I am - it’s me giving myself away in someone else’s project. I see it as me spreading the word differently. I don’t feel any way about it. I feel good. It’s something that should happen often, actually.
Walk me through the moment you realised Show Dem Camp and The Cavemen belonged in the same room. What did you hear that nobody else was hearing yet?
Fun fact - I’ve always been connected through my role as a guitarist. I’d been working with Show Dem Camp for a long time, from their first record. But I just found out about The Cavemen then. They were coming up, making music. We actually played in the same band together for an artist called Best. So we all played together, and then The Cavemen started doing their own music.
I’m like, hey, I like them. I like the music that they do. And Show Dem Camp already had that highlife direction they were moving in. I’m like, this would be a perfect blend. And the common factor between both places was just me. So I was like, I think this would be a perfect, perfect blend. I think this would be magic. So I said, let me see what we can do to put both people together. And I already knew it was going to be magic from the get-go.
The album has over 10 million streams. Most people still don’t know you conceived it. Does that bother you?
No, it doesn’t bother me in any way. It’s just music. It’s me making what I like. However it comes out, the most important thing is that the idea is out there. There are a lot of things that people would never know I’ve done in the industry, and I’m okay with it. I’m not one to blow my trumpet on things I’ve done. I’ve learned to live with it and know that I’ve done this. Nobody can change it. So I don’t need validation, if that makes sense. The truth is that I’ve done this. I’ve done it.
You played guitar on ‘Love Me Je Je’ and produced ‘Boy O Boy’ - performer on the win, producer on the nomination. What was the difference in how those felt?
I’m always grateful for every opportunity I get. This is not me saying it wasn’t something big - it’s just me serving in a different capacity. People get to know the different things you can do, the different bags you can be in. For me, it’s like most things that you’ve done; people don’t know about it. Just the one per cent at the top is what people remember. So it doesn’t really matter. We just keep doing our best at every opportunity. Whether it goes platinum or whether it doesn’t, we still keep doing the work. “Love Me Je Je” wasn’t an exception. Boy O Boy wasn’t an exception. It’s just me doing what I love doing and trying to make an impact with my gift.
After 18 years of building other people’s music, why was now the right time for Strings of Solace?
Almost every year I have a project ready to go out, and it just happens that after the year, I’m like, I don’t think I want to make this project. But Strings of Solace - that idea had already been conceived long ago. I knew I wanted a project that had to be felt. But you just feel like, when everything comes together, it feels right. The moment I finished making those records, I just knew the time was now.
This is one of the projects that didn’t feel forced. It didn’t feel like I was trying to be seen. I was just trying to make the music that I love, how I love it. Sometimes you conform to trying to make music because you want everybody to dance. So for me, it’s me knowing that - this is what I want you to feel. This is a piece of me. And the crazy part is, maybe if I’d waited longer, I wouldn’t have dropped the project. I’m being honest. Because you’ll be phasing into different things. You’re in a different space in life at every time. So I had to make sure it went out in time.
Every track is named after a city or place. Tell me about the geography of this EP.
Those places actually mean a lot to me. This is my life out there. It’s like a piece of my life. We have Lisbon, Nairobi, Madrid - places I’ve been to, touring with artists. It is more like my experiences. Those moments where I can find solitude, where I find peace with myself. I wanted to put those moments into music.
It’s really not about the city. It’s just how I felt at that time in that particular place. If you notice the music, everything about it is just screaming peace. I just want to relax. I just want to forget about everything for the duration that the music is playing. No stress. Nothing. Just trying to have peace.
If you’re touring, it can be a lot. Travelling from city to city, jumping on the next flight. Sometimes you see 40,000 different people. It can be crazy. But most of the time that I found rest, when I just got back to my hotel, these melodies kept coming to me. And I started putting them down. So the titles of each track really meant a lot to me. They were like how I felt in those particular cities at those times. It’s like an audio documentary of my life touring as a musician.
Even for Madrid - that was just one day, me walking around the city, just seeing how I felt. I said, "Okay, I have this melody down. So each record, everything meant a lot to me.”
You chose to make it fully instrumental. No words. Why?
I never thought of putting words in the whole project. I wanted to be able to communicate - as I said before, the guitar is like the instrument I can communicate with fluently. I want to be able to touch people’s souls. I want to play something on my guitar, and you feel it, and you understand. That’s what I was trying to pass throughout the project. You don’t have to say something. You just have to feel it.
Guitar, for me, is an expression. It’s an extension of me. The words that I did not say - I said everything on the guitar, in the music. I wanted people to open their minds to alternative ways of communicating music. So it was an intentional act. I wanted to break free from the norm.
And honestly, the inspiration didn’t come with vocals anyway. If it had come with vocals, I would have done that. But if it did not come that way, why am I trying to force it? If each melody is spiritual to me, I’m going to leave it that way. I’m just a messenger - I’m replicating whatever I’m sent to do. Music is supposed to be felt. I wanted people to feel that from my strings, from each track.
What do you want listeners to take away from Strings of Solace?
The first thing I really want people to get from the project is peace. It’s a peaceful project. If you’re troubled, if you have different things you’re going through - from the moment you listen, from the beginning, it calms you down. All you have to do is just listen. I’m not saying you should dance. It’s not a dance project. All I wanted you to do was listen and calm yourself. It’s like therapy for me.
This is not music I made because I wanted to make music. I made it something I would listen to when I feel that type of way. I want people to feel the same thing I felt. I want you to feel peace the moment you start listening. It’s like a therapeutic session. It’s like coming to see your therapist. Imagine that your doctor is giving you a prescription and that prescription is Strings of Solace. If they were named after pills, this is the one for when you can’t sleep. It will put you to bed.
What does Nsikak David sound like when nobody is asking him to sound like anything in particular?
I think I’ve been blessed with something that makes me special - I can really do anything musically. Today I could be playing highlife. Tomorrow I can be playing R&B. The other day I was playing jazz. I’m an all-rounder. Wherever the music needs me, I follow. I love being that. To be able to just create freely without bounds.
I wouldn’t say I’m a boxed artist. I’m just free. Everybody was thinking that when I dropped something new, it was going to be something club-shaking. I’m like, you guys really thought you were going to hear vocals on it? I love it. I want to be able to paint whatever I want to paint. I don’t want anyone to know what I’m going to do next. I want to be an artist and just make whatever I feel like.
Is Strings of Solace a record you made for yourself, and that’s enough, or do you want it to pull people into instrumental music who wouldn’t have found it otherwise?
Definitely both. First of all, I have to love the music to be able to share that part of me with the world. But I want people’s taste to also change. I want people to have variety. Somebody told me - I never knew I loved instrumental music until I heard this project. Some people have never gotten the opportunity to know that. Somebody called me and said, "This is what I play anytime I want to walk. It helps me through my walk days.”
So I want people to discover that. I want instrumental music to have a place, especially in a country like Nigeria, where instrumental music is nowhere. I want to be one of those people who were bold enough to make this kind of project and make it a thing. Make it look cool.
For anyone in the UK who has been eagerly awaiting the return of South African duo Scorpion Kings, the wait is almost over. The iconic duo are set to return to the UK with their biggest show yet as part of the High Lights Festival at Barking Park this Spring bank holiday Sunday, making it a must-attend event for music fans.
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Having headlined the inaugural Piano People in the Park festival in 2024 the last time they were in London, the duo are returning with a 3-hour set, promising an unforgettable experience for fans eager for a legendary performance.
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Fans who witnessed the magic that was Piano People in the Park will know that their set was one for the books and was a 10/10 offering, and have since been waiting for them to come back. Since then, they both returned individually, with Kabza headlining the festival last year and DJ Maphorisha playing a string of his own shows in the UK; however, together, as they stand, fans are here and ready for all that is to come on bank holiday Sunday, eager to share this special moment.
The duo will not be alone and will bring a diverse lineup of sounds from Amapiano, Afrohouse, Gqom 3-Step, and Afro Tech, featuring stars like Tyler ICU, Shakes & Les, Sam Deep, Dlala Thuzkin, and more, making it a must-see event.
There is no doubt that this show will be one for the books. From the production and energy to be presented to the crowd, it will be a day to remember, bringing together lovers of the sound, uniting fans from far and wide, and allowing them to experience this monumental occasion for the Kings.
With the last few tickets remaining, this is your chance to be part of an exclusive moment and experience the magic that is Scorpion Kings.
A group of teachers pulled Josh Levi aside one day from the rest of the class. Mortified, scared, and mostly confused, Josh reluctantly obliged, anxiously waiting to see how much trouble he was in. What exactly did they want? He wasn’t even the troublemaker type.
“Josh, can you sing that song that you were singing in the hallway?” they said excitedly.
Surprised and honored, Josh was relieved. He wasn’t in trouble. He landed at the genesis of the innate power music would hold in his life.
“I was so young, and I was confused at first, but I recognized at that moment that God gave me a gift that could make people feel something. From that point on, I was obsessed and addicted to the opportunity to make people feel.” – Josh Levi
Deeds Magazine sat down with actor, singer, performer, and multihyphenate Josh Levi to learn more about his music, tour, and his creative journey within the industry.
EMEM IKPOT: I’m super interested in learning more about your sound, specifically the R&B sonic textures for HYDRAULIC. Now that you’ve performed these songs on tour, has the energy of your shows influenced how you want your next project to sound, or did it just confirm you’re on the right path sonically?
JOSH LEVI: It more so confirmed that I want to stay in the energy that I'm on. I only ever create music that I’m excited to perform. That's how I know that I like a song, or that I like what I'm creating—if I can see myself performing it. If I visualize myself on stage, if I can see the music video– that's how I know I'm connecting with the music. And with this tour, it blew me away that I could bring to life the energy the fans gave me. This was exactly what I was going for.
EMEM IKPOT: Are there certain songs that you absolutely loved performing on tour, and are there ones that were more difficult, maybe emotionally?
JOSH LEVI: 1000%. Every song is completely different for me. I have some songs that are like, super fun and easy to escape to and just let go. Songs like Crash Out, and Don't Go. I really enjoy performing. NAMEONIT on my album is also really fun and upbeat. Other records are more vulnerable, where I do have to tap into something deeper. Songs like I Can't Go Outside, take me back to the very vulnerable and intimate place where I was when I was writing it. And then with How It's Supposed To Be, after finishing that song, I had to take a moment of silence during the performance. My fans just stared at me, but I was really fine with it. It takes me there every single time.
EMEM IKPOT: From your earlier records DISC 1, to DISC 2, all the way to HYDRAULIC, what was your experience like working on each of these records–in terms of your process, inspiration, collaboration? Has your process changed over time?
JOSH LEVI: Disc 1 and Disc 2 were both EPs. With HYDRAULIC, it had much more internal reflection. I dug super deep within myself. Not that I didn't dig deep with my EPs, but for HYDRAULIC, that's the most introspective work I've ever approached, because I was super passionate about bringing young Josh, who started out in music in Houston, Texas—the nine-year-old—to the party. My first experiences of music, my first relationship with music, I wanted to include that version of Josh as well. And so for HYDRAULIC, I meditated and prayed so much to really bridge those two versions of myself, the current Josh and the Josh where it all began. I think that's why, for me, the music on HYDRAULIC and the records on that project feel like they hold a lot more weight than my other EPs. Not to say that it's any better or less, it's just deeper.
EMEM IKPOT: It's interesting, because I feel like a lot of times, especially as a creative in the space, when you think about that original moment where you knew that you wanted to do something big, creative, and new—you tend to be really young. And when you actually get to doing that thing, you’re much older, but that young version of yourself that brought you to where you are now still exists. Actively bringing that young version with you to where you are now feels like a full-circle moment where everything is coming together in a real way, like the culmination of it all. Cause when we’re really focused and really in the creative zone, it’s really easy to forget that young self. And it’s like, wait…I'm remembering that young Emem, or that young Josh, who loves this stuff, and I want to bring them with me in this moment, too.
JOSH LEVI: Yeah, it's hilarious because it's like, this album is definitely a conversation between my current self and young Josh.
How are things going?
Why are we doing this again?
Why is music the thing that we feel so passionate about?
How did we get here?
It was a lot of those conversations, but definitely a full-circle moment. A culmination of my journey to date. I think HYDRAULIC will always have a special place in my heart for that reason. I was also very passionate about creating a debut album that reflected me in such a massive way, because it is my first album. You can only really have one first album. If you've never listened to me before, or if you will never listen to me again— I really worked to have a strong sonic blueprint of the story of Josh Levi.
EMEM IKPOT: Tell me a bit more about your background and your growth in the music industry. I know you’ve done acting, singing, performing, etc.— what really drove you to music?
JOSH LEVI: Church. I started singing in church. I grew up in the church in Houston, Texas. Gospel music was a huge thing in my orbit and in my family. We would hear it in cars, radios, TV screens, soundtracks, etc—that's all I ever heard. And so the good thing about that is, I was privy to only incredible singing at all times. That's all my ears heard. I was in so many local church communities, like the choir, and a bunch of other local stuff in Houston. I always tell the story: I remember singing in the hallway or in the bathroom at my elementary school, and my teachers pulled me into the principal's office with a bunch of the staff. I thought I was in trouble. They’re like, “Josh, can you sing that song that you were singing in the hallway?” And I was like, okay. Sure. I'll never forget how emotional they were as I was singing. It was some gospel song. I wish I could remember which song it was. I was so young, and I was confused at first, but I recognized at that moment that God gave me a gift that could make people feel something. From that point on, I was obsessed and addicted to the opportunity to make people feel.
EMEM IKPOT: I did a piece on D'Angelo, underscoring how important the Black church was for him and his music. And I feel like for a lot of artists, especially Black artists, the church is really such a strong fixture and source of inspiration. I think about this a lot now, in terms of artists who don't have that background and how it can impact their sonic sensibility or how they approach music. I think the Black church really does hold a very special place in crafting music.
JOSH LEVI: Yeah, musically, it's unmatched, and I think church, gospel, sound, and music are very divine. There's an anointing and a flow there that makes for a really, really special foundation for all music. I think gospel music is influential in every single genre. It is soulful. It is R&B. It is pop. It is even hip-hop. The stuff I grew up with, from Kirk Franklin, Israel Houghton, and Mary Mary, and even the traditional gospel sound still had 808s and high hats. I personally feel very grateful for having that church background because I only ever heard amazing quality vocals. Amazing quality music– band, instruments, and incredible sound in my ears. I got accustomed to that.
EMEM IKPOT: What musicians do you look up to as an artist— are there artists that inspire your sound?
JOSH LEVI: I'm inspired by so many people. Michael Jackson, Aaliyah, Beyoncé. Drake. Tems is a huge inspiration for me. I love Afrobeats, African music in general.
I'm inspired by a spectrum of so much. I mentioned gospel, I listen to French music. I also am a huge hip hop head, but like, a specific lane of hip hop, not necessarily contemporary today, but Future, Wayne, Drake. Travis Scott. On the singing side, I like artists who are anti the system—artists that push the boundaries, that go against the status quo — those people have always spoken to me.
EMEM IKPOT: How do you feel about the R&B landscape at this current moment?
JOSH LEVI: I think R&B is in a beautiful place. The window is finally opening for the true impact of R&B. For so long, R&B has kind of been dismissed in terms of its impact and its influence. But right now, in terms of where we're at in the world, people want to feel good, and I think R&B, the definition of R&B is feel good. So I'm really grateful that as a society, R&B is appreciated more because when there are wars and evil and chaos and hate and all of the craziness that's happening in our nation and outside of our nation, I don't think people wanna hear about, you know, people getting shot, and I'm gonna jump you. We don't have the capacity. So I think people are like, it's nice to just talk about love, to hear about love, to talk about being cared for. I'm happy to play my role in that.
All of my peers, everybody that's in the R&B space right now, they're all my peers. So I'm just really happy, and I take pride in playing a role in that. The first group that came to mind is FLO. They are on my album. I'm always going to be a fan of everything that they do. My prayer is to continue collaborating with people that I'm a fan of. I think their contribution to R&B is something I really enjoy watching.
EMEM IKPOT: Are there artists you’re looking to collaborate with in the future?
JOSH LEVI: I would love to collaborate with Drake. I also love HER. Brandy, of course. Kehlani would be fire, that’s my girl.
EMEM IKPOT: Tell us a bit more about your work with Issa Rae’s Raedio label in partnership with Atlantic Records— how has this experience been for you in terms of your creative process, strategy, and album curation?
JOSH LEVI: Issa Rae, Issa Rae. What an icon. What a boss. All I think of, every time I look at her face, is like, you're just a boss, and I really want to be like you. She's an amazing creative. I think my favorite thing about Issa, which I always talk about, is that she truly trusts the people that she aligns with. I've never once had a conversation with Issa where she tried to change my vision. She's only ever pushed me to lean more into my vision. And I think that's my favorite part of collaborating with her. And then specifically for this album, she just wanted to constantly be involved in my thought process, not to really add or take away from where I was at, but to stay close to what my goals were. And that's another thing I really appreciate about her. From day one, we listened to every track, and we talked about the meaning and the intention behind each record. We’ll go on random dinners, and she will ask me what my goals are, what I would like to do, and the things I would like to invest in my fans. The ways I'd like to continue to cultivate and facilitate a club Levi Space, in the world. She was at my LA show during the tour, screaming in the balcony. She's so supportive of everything that I would like to go after. She's there to be like, "Okay, let's figure out how we do this."
EMEM IKPOT: Yeah, she really is a true force of nature.
JOSH LEVI: Force is a great word.
EMEM IKPOT: What was your experience like working on Turning Red? Those vocals are crazy. They still live in my head rent-free!
JOSH LEVI: Hahaha, Thank you! That whole experience was unexpected. Billie Eilish and Phineas did all of the music for that film, so they had me in mind as a member of Four Town, and it just came across my table—and it was an immediate yes. I'm the biggest Pixar fan. My favorite movies of all time are animated, one of which is the Incredibles, which is another Pixar film. I was just like, what? I get to voice a character with brown skin who can sing soulfully? In the Pixar Zeitgeist World? Absolutely, yes. That was a really dope experience. We recorded everything at Disney studios, and it was dope. It was really, really special. It’s very interesting the different places where people join the Josh party. Some people just joined the party through HYDRAULIC, some people through my song on Insecure, then the most random stuff, like, just random YouTube videos, and then there's a group of people that’s like–so I found you through Turning Red and I've been locked in with you ever since!
EMEM IKPOT: There’s a massive difference between opening for someone and being the person the entire room is there to see. What was this experience like on tour?
JOSH LEVI: I mean, you said it best, like, when you're opening, the energy is —let me bring people into my world for, like, 15 to 20 minutes. There may be some fans of Josh out there, but my primary job is to make everybody feel what I’m feeling for the next 15 minutes, and then they can go on to the person that they really came here for. For the HYDRAULIC tour, the Josh Levi experience, it was completely different. It's my sole responsibility to facilitate an experience for all the people who spent their time driving to, flying to, or taking the train to my show. To really cultivate a night that has my name on it. And that's something that I take a lot of pride and responsibility in. I feel responsible for the whole experience.
So it's different, you know? There's a different level of commitment, passion, and a mantle that I feel like I have. It was really special for me, you know, walking out on those stages and seeing a packed room, seeing a sold-out room. Not something I take for granted at all. I had people flying from Shanghai, five, six, seven, even eight hours away. This was an 11-city tour. I didn't do as many dates as I will in the future. So a lot of my fans were traveling to see me, but then it being me, you know, on the ticket, that's a different level of like…I can't lean on anybody else.
EMEM IKPOT: Your album aesthetic is so distinct — from the leather, the textures, the "Rodeo" imagery. How challenging was it to translate that high-fashion, cinematic world into a live touring environment where you have to balance your look with the raw athleticism of your choreography?
JOSH LEVI: I love this question. So HYDRAULIC has a gritty, auto body, Pimp My Ride, Fast and Furious energy to it. The alter ego in this album is a car mechanic. The car mechanic represents Mr. Hydraulic, the mechanic who's constantly doing repairs and maintenance on my heart, my mind, and my well-being. To stay functioning as this well-oiled machine throughout my life experiences and the craziness of the world, the mechanic is steadily working. I really wanted to commit to this concept throughout the album, while also bringing it to life on tour, which is why a lot of the fashion was between moto auto body stuff to actual mechanic jumpsuits, where I had like, literal dirt on my face, my arms, and on some of my shirts, to really commit to the story. That's what inspired the fashion story of the album. And also, the spirit of Texas in Houston was a source of inspiration. It's always combining, you know, the grills and the sideways hats and some of the silhouettes of Houston culture and sweat and mixing it with these auto body worlds that represented the narrative of the album.
EMEM IKPOT: Now that the tour is officially over, what's the one thing you've learned from this run that you want to carry into the next one? Is there something you saw that the fans reacted to, or maybe something you felt that you want to really implement in your next tour? What's next for you?
JOSH LEVI: This tour showed me so much. First, they want way more merch from me than I thought, that's one. I think building my world in terms of fashion and merchandise is something that I'm excited to lean into, which is something I've always wanted to do. And then sonically, my fans like high-energy stuff. I've always been the guy who brought energy to R&B. That's important to me. And this story showed me that I should continue that, even though it makes for a very tiring set. It's quite the exercise, but I see that my fans want nothing less than that. That's been dope. What's next for me is HYDRAULIC, Deluxe. More shows, I'm coming to Europe. A few festivals this summer and collaborations. I think this tour showed me something that my fans have already told me, which they also tell me every day. They tell me that there is a place for my sound and there's a place for my music. And of course, I believe that, but seeing them, seeing a room full of people screaming the songs, knowing every single word. It just hits different. It really energized me to continue to lean into as much Josh Levi as I can and less of the outside voices of who people think I should be. I’ve learned to lean into myself and trust my instinct, which was really educational for me. And I'll never get the picture of the faces of the Levi legends out of my brain. The joy and the love of singing word for word into their eyes. That's a feeling that I am taking with me in the studio every day. It's been so inspiring. I'm keeping that spirit in the music. As an artist, these are the moments that you live for. You can't pay for those moments.
Emem-Esther U. Ikpot
@ememIK46
(Instagram/Substack/ememikpot.com)
For years, Afrobeats has travelled globally as a relatively unified cultural export. With sounds rhythmic, vibrant, and immediately recognisable, rooted in dance music, movement, optimism, and charisma. As artists experiment with different influences, Afrobeats remained a recognisable centre to what the world understood as a polished but collective image of African cool.
However, something has changed in the Nigerian pop culture over the last few decades, and it is recognisable. Its biggest stars no longer sound alike, market themselves alike, or even emotionally represent Africa in the same way. The rise of Asake, Rema and Tems suggests that Nigerian music is entering a new phase where artists are no longer giving the same version of African identity to the world. This is not the collapse of Afrobeats. It’s the fragmentation which may be the clearest indicator that Nigerian pop culture is maturing.
For a long time, African artists have been expected to function as cultural representatives before they could exist as individuals. Global success often came with the burden of how their music had to “introduce” Africa to the world in ways that their international audience could understand comfortably. The pressure to remain recognisably African while sounding globally accessible shone brightly, which is why they had to conform because the industry rewarded familiarity.
The new generation of Nigerian artists is beginning to erase and reject that collective responsibility. They are onto building distinct artistic worlds instead.
Rema is one of the artists who barely behaves as if he is interested in preserving traditional ideas for the African market. His music draws inspiration from Afrobeats, trap, futuristic pop production and internet-age, chaos all at once. Visually, he operates less like a traditional Popstar and more like a digitally assembled global youth figure with his Gothic styling, anime reference, rebellious unpredictability and emotionally unstable aesthetics.
What Rema makes important is not his commercial success. It is what his success represents culturally. He signals the arrival of a Nigerian artist who is no longer interested in explaining Africa to the world. His music asks to be consumed on its own terms.
The confidence marks a shift. Earlier generations of Nigerian stars often presented Africanness as a collective identity. Rema presents identity as fluid, fragmented and personal. His music does not ask to be interpreted through the lens of “African authenticity”. It asks to be consumed as culture on its own terms. In many ways, he represents the internetification of Nigerian pop culture, an era where artists are shaped as much by online subculture as they are by local musical traditions. And there is Asake, who appears to move in a completely different direction.
Where Rema feels culturally borderless, Asake feels aggressively rooted, and he explores it. His music is packed with Yoruba slang, Fuji cadences, street spirituality and local textures that would once have been considered too culturally specific for mainstream global crossover. Yet it travels anyway.
This is what makes Asake important. For years, there was an unspoken assumption that global success required dilution, where African artists could succeed internationally, but only after softening the local edges of their sound. However, Asake’s rise disrupts this logic completely. Instead of reducing cultural specificity, he intensifies it. Quietly, it has been proven that as he doubles down on local language, rhythm and identity, the audience across the world is willing to engage with Nigerian music without demanding translation first. This matters as it reflects a broader cultural power shift.
Tems represents the most radical of all. Unlike older expectations placed on African stars, Tems does not perform exuberance for a global audience. Her music is restrained, atmospheric and emotionally inward. She comes through feelings rather than spectacle. Even her vocal delivery resists excess.
What Tems exports is not just sound but mood. This distinction reveals how pop culture is becoming increasingly individualistic. Tems operate from introspection. Her artistry is rooted in solitude, vulnerability and emotional ambiguity. She is not trying to embody a continent; she is trying to express herself. And the global audience is responding to that, honestly.
Together, Rema, Asake and Tems reveal a setting larger than musical diversity. They reveal the collapse of a singular African pop identity. This may sound alarming to people invested in preserving Afrobeats as a stable cultural category, but it is a sign of creative expansion. Mature cultural industries do not produce one aesthetic language forever; instead, they diversify and create subcultures, contradictions and competing artistic identities. American pop music does not sound one way, nor does Latin or K-pop, which are increasingly fragmented. Nigerian music would inevitably reach this point.
This is why conversations about Nigerian music often feel confused right now. The category itself is struggling to contain the reality of what Nigerian artists are becoming. The confusion, however, is necessary because Nigerian pop culture is not a singular sound.
The fragmentation of Afrobeats should not be mistaken for weakness. It is evidence that the culture is becoming expansive enough to contain multiple selves at once. Nigerian music is no longer exporting one African identity to the world. It is exporting individuals.
IG: anuhola_
Ben P is waiting. His artist SINYM is late to the studio - phone calls answered but with excuses, the beat sitting ready on the speakers with nobody to record it. Three episodes in, and the internet recognised the joke immediately. Ben P is BNXN. SINYM is Sarz. The roles are reversed. And somehow that reversal is the most incredible way to release ‘The Game Needs Us’ after a single track had already been heard.
Sarz is not simply a producer. He is an architect. ‘Gwagwalada’ with BNXN. ‘Nzaza’ and ‘Feelings’ with Lojay on ‘LV N ATTN’ - the benchmark for producer-artist chemistry in Nigerian music. ‘Protect Sarz At All Costs’, his debut album, was a declaration of creative identity that the industry was not entirely ready for. Across every era of contemporary Afrobeats, Sarz has been in the room -often the most important person in it. BNXN is the other side of that equation. Grammy-nominated, coming off CAPTAIN, one of the most precise songwriters in Afrofusion - a vocalist who understands production well enough to play Ben P convincingly for three episodes of a social show. It is the product of years spent paying attention to the people making the music underneath him.
Two people at the peak of their individual crafts. One EP. Five tracks entirely produced by Sarz. Released via EMPIRE, the project expands on the duo’s celebrated chemistry following previous releases including ‘Gwagwalada’ and ‘Pidgin & English’, combining Afrofusion, Afrobeats, and contemporary pop influences.
‘Rum & Soda’ opens the EP where it finds its footing - melodic, easy, the kind of song that doesn’t ask for your attention but gets it anyway. ‘Back Outside’ follows with a different kind of weight. The lead single debuted at number one on Apple Music Nigeria, accumulating more than 22 million streams and two million video views in two weeks. But the number is only part of the story. What makes the track significant is what BNXN chose to build it around - an interpolation of Amadou & Mariam’s ‘Ko Neye Mounka Allah La’, taken from the legendary Malian duo’s 1990 album, sung in Bambara. The phrase translates roughly to “what God has given.” Underneath a song about returning to the spotlight after lying low, that choice is not decorative. It is a declaration that what he has was given, that the roots of this music run deeper than any chart position, and that coming back outside means something more than a release date.
‘Emotional High’ sits in that particular mood of wanting something you’re already in the middle of having. The production keeps delivering, and you keep wanting more of it - the most quietly greedy track on the EP. ‘Frank Sinatra’ closes on the most introspective note, a quiet and considered ending for a project that could easily have gone louder.
‘The Game Needs Us’ sits in the same territory as ‘I Love Girls with Trouble’ - not in sound, but in what it feels like to listen to two people who genuinely understand each other’s instincts. BNXN said: “This project brings together two of Nigeria’s greatest forces to deliver a refreshing yet reflective experience. To show the dynamics in the African sound and to give a feel of where the future of the sound is headed.” Billboard Africa put it more plainly: the EP feels less like a reunion and more like a reminder of what happens when two architects of the sound lock back in.
BNXN and Sarz put the most honest thing about the Nigerian music industry into a social show, then backed it with five tracks that prove why both sides of that dynamic matter. The game needs a producer. The game needs the artist.
After only catching glimpses of her in photos on her Tumblr late 2025, a connection was finally made with the South London-based artist earlier this year when, this time, the then-twenty-one-year old was miming and vibing in another music video for a song they had just released exclusively on the blogging platform. The music escapes memory, but the muted colours, handheld cam and retro grain of the picture remain. And when you finally settle into Sade Olutola’s music, the last piece of the puzzle, it all makes sense.
Olutola’s Tumblr community is a slice of the blog’s quiet revival being fuelled by young people and their 2010s nostalgia. But this isn’t just a Tumblr affair for the British-Nigerian. From shooting music videos on multiple iPhone 4s, to the digicam aesthetic of her photos, and the bloomers, the net pop socks and gloves, vintage boots, leopard prints, and the chunky spiral pendants, brick by brick, Sade Olutola is reaching for, and building a world inspired by her, and her nostalgia. In May 2026, Deeds Magazine sat down with Olutola in an exclusive conversation to discuss her music, world-building, and the different shades of her person.
Fortune, for Deeds Magazine:
Hi Sade! How’re you doing?
Sade Olutola:
Hi Fortune! I’m good. How’re you?
I’m good, too. Great to finally have you. How was your session?
I’m still in it. It’s been amazing.
Oh, great. And how often do you do these sessions?
Honestly, I've been working a lot recently, so it's just once a week. But I'm trying to quit my job to do music full-time, so hopefully it'd be like three, four times a week, and from there I would like to be in the studio every day.
That's cool. I thought it was chill how quickly you responded to my Tumblr Ask the other day.
Oh, no, I feel like Tumblr is the best way to reach me, honestly.
I thought so.
Yeah. Because no one's on there, and I like that.
Exactly: no one's on there.
All these other apps, Oh My God. And I liked your little note. It was so cute. I love that you're Nigerian as well. Stand up!
Haha, yeah. And it was on Tumblr that I first found you, too. That was like last year.
Oh, really? Wait, you found me on Tumblr?
Yeah. And it was surprising how the algorithm brought you my way. A friend had made me join just a while before. Then one day, while scrolling, I saw a Nigerian name: Sade Olutola. And the rest is history.
Really?
Yeah. And so it’s crazy that we're having this interview right now.
That’s my favorite story. Like, it's so authentic. Because nobody's on there, do you understand? You have to be a very special kind of amazing person to find me there.
Taking that as a compliment. I think what about you I find the most fascinating is the painstakingness of your world-building: Your Tumblr, the dressing, the music—the way they all come together. And you come across to me as an artist with … ‘musical patience.’ Am I right?
Yes, thank you. I'm very specific. Even to my own detriment. The amount of stress I put my producer through to get my EP out is insane.
Luca?
Yeah, Luca, yeah. You know my whole life story, wow.
Haha. Been doing my homework.
Yes, yes, you have. I love that.
Do you then think your music is the soundtrack for this world, or it's a separate thing?
No, I think I am the source. When I decide to make a visual, that is coming from me. And when I decide to make music, that's coming from me. So I think what ties my brand together is me. I want everything to be true to myself. Whenever I go about stuff, I have these three pillars: nostalgia, community, and authenticity. So I think that's what makes all I do feel cohesive. I am always trying, trying to be as true to myself as I possibly can.
I feel that. What did you listen to before 11?
That's actually a good question. Before 11, um, I wasn't listening to Ed Sheeran—Oh, I think I was just listening to whatever was on the radio, from movies and stuff. And I remember I liked that song, “Uptown Funk” by Bruno Mars. I loved the black pop girls, too. Rihanna, Nicki, Beyonce. I knew that I loved them. But when I got my iPods at 11, I locked in. And that was the foundation.
Like you were in control.
Yeah, do you see what I mean?
Interesting because I've seen stories of the Ed Sheeran phase, and been curious about what was before that.
That's a very good question, actually, because I haven't talked about that.
Growing up on Tumblr, were there any artists that you fangirled on there?
So, I'm not gonna lie, I went through a K-pop phase. So if you scroll down my Tumblr, you'll see that it's lots of BTS, haha.
Oh, wow.
Yeah, so I was really, really into BTS back then. But besides that, I was actually on Tumblr for artsy reasons. I would look at photographs and all. It was more of the artsy side than music.
You know, this makes sense because I was reading something like two weeks ago on this curator, and she mentioned that it was on Tumblr that she first found her connection with the contemporary African visual artists that shaped her introduction to the field. Artists like Lana Del Rey and Tyler, the Creator, too, who built on Tumblr, also suggest a trend of visual-oriented artists using the blog in those days. And I think you are, too.
Yeah, I am. On my iPod, there was Beyoncé's self-titled visual album. She made a music video for every song, so I was inspired by that. Honestly, I'm not going to lie, when Beyonce said that, Oh, she's the first person to do that, I was thinking, I would have done that anyway, haha. I always thought, when you've written a hard song, and you put it out, why is there not a video to it? I always want to see a video. So, “Arrow Heart”, my EP, is a visual album. I'm working on a music video for each single, every one. ‘Game for Two’ is coming out soon, so look out for that.
Oh, I'm looking forward to that.
Thank you.
Talking about Beyonce, what do you like about the song with J. Cole, ‘Party’?
That's my favourite song! But did you know that, though?
Haha yeah, I did.
Haha, how did you find that out? That's so random. I never put that out anywhere. Anyway, I love that song. It’s so amazing because I like how she calls Ay, Ay in the chorus, making actual party sounds. I think that's genius. And then J. Cole's verse, oh, it's just so silly and fun and embodies what it feels like to party. It also sounds old-school, and I just love anything that sounds a little bit retro. The vocals are amazing too—it's Beyonce, what do you mean?
Haha right. In that case, which rapper would you say has had the most influence on you? Because it looks like ‘Party’ for you is more of Beyonce than the J.Cole feature.
Yeah, but he carried, though—I'm not gonna lie. Rappers that influence me, I'm not gonna lie, the reason I rap is because of Ed Sheeran. I would listen to “Multiply” on repeat every night. I learned all the lyrics back to back, and I didn't even know what Genius was. Number two, I love A Tribe Called Quest, love Q-Tip, love Kanye West as well. But my style, the way that I sing, that I rap, is literally from Ed Sheeran.
Baba mi sọ fún mi / Sade, take it easy / Listen to your daddy. What song is that?
Yo, that song is so bad. Haha.
Is it?
Haha, that song is so … That's like the worst thing I've ever written.
Haha, no, I don’t think it was that bad.
No, I was spitting, though. (Hums the chorus)
The flow.
It was a vibe.
Still remember the title?
Yeah, it's, wait—it's ‘Sọ fun mi’
That's it, yeah. Was that when you were in Nigeria?
No, actually. That was when I came back, when I was 18.
So, is there any chance this Nigerianness would ever get into your music again?
Yes, definitely. Do you know Cruel Santino?
What? He’s like my top-three.
I have to make something with him. He's like my favourite artist. I really want to go into the alté scene. I want people to know that I'm Nigerian.
I feel like if you were Nigerian-based, you’d be on the alté scene.
Exactly. I feel like the alté scene is just waiting for me.
What was the feeling like at the release party?
Oh, I was overwhelmed. I couldn't believe that I had a fan base out in America, so I was really shocked that so many people came to support me. And their vibe was all bubbly and fun. London has this very ‘tush’ vibe, stiff, but no, no, my listeners aren't like that, but it was crazy that I was meeting strangers, and they were all acting like I'm their sister. I really appreciated that.
I can imagine that. So you’ve also said that you buy bouquets weekly. Tell me about that.
Oh, I do that because I realized that as we grow older, we start to take less care of ourselves and prioritize work and doing hard things to push our career and stuff. And I feel like when you're overworking yourself, it’s a form of abuse in some way, or just not giving yourself any time. So for me, my gift to myself every week is to make sure that there are fresh flowers on my table. It’s a very small thing, but when I look at my new flowers, they make me happy, and, honestly, everybody needs to just work a bit harder to take care of themselves. That’s like my little idea of fun, and it keeps me sane.
Deep.
Laughs.
Yeah, really. So. Why nostalgia?
Nostalgia because, I'm not gonna lie, I feel like it's because I didn't really have an exciting childhood. I think that's why I'm always trying to ... Like me trying to create the childhood that I wanted. And also, I love things that feel old; they feel like home. In this day and age, things are moving too fast, like AI—things are getting faster and, I don't know, there's just beauty in how old things used to be, and how processes took longer, how things were simpler. I think I'm just trying to cling to that by making my visuals feel like those times. Nostalgia feels like safety, do you know what I mean?
Yeah, I feel you. Because, even in theory, nostalgia is romantic: how it has to do with selective remembering, filtering comfort times, and helping you revisit these moments, without actually returning.
Yeah, literally. Definitely. Makes a lot of sense.
What does visibility feel like now to you, Sade?
Honestly, I feel blessed. I feel like God has helped me do my thing, and I'm just very grateful to him. And, I'm just trying to take it easy, slowly, step-by-step, because I get imposter syndrome sometimes.
I mean, that's unavoidable.
Yeah, or, like, it happens that I comment something, and someone gets excited and I’m like, I'm literally nobody, can you calm down? Haha. I’ve had people stop me in public and go ‘Oh, I listen to your music.’ And I’m like, you do? I haven't really adjusted to people actually knowing me. It’s insane. In my mind, obviously, I'm the same person, because I'm me. But I still can't just believe it.
Do you also ever think that this visibility, because of how generic it can get, could threaten your aesthetic?
One thing about me is I’m going to be true to myself throughout. I like things that are authentic, and I think that is something that the music industry is missing: everything is so clean and polished. So I would like to stay as raw and DIY as I possibly can, and I think that is what makes my brand special. I don't think there's any need to change, even if there's money, big labels and stuff, like, I would always be true to myself.
And I feel like one can always tell when someone is truly being authentic, and I can say I see that in you.
Thank you.
Also, I like those leopard-print soles.
Thank you. Thank you, I love that.
I think another fascinating thing about you, to me, apart from the world building, is how your style has evolved over the years. I came upon a couple of old videos of you in white and black and I thought, Oh, it's been a long time coming. But it was also beautiful to see that growth arc.
Yeah! I'm scared, do you know where I live?
Ha! Maybe. I might.
Haha, yeah, I went through a little emo phase. I feel like I’m still evolving. Fashion, for me, is not over.
That's great. Talking about fashion, obviously you are best known for music, but I know there're other things you do: painting, designing. But music is the most popular. How then do you tend to these other interests, without neglecting them, and while trying to not get boxed?
Do you know something? It's a battle right now. Because music is taking a lot of my time, and I also work. But I really want to be known as an artist, not just music, because I am really quite good at painting. And I also really enjoy designing. So what I do for now is paint on weekends, do sketches and everything, but there will be a time where I'll take that very seriously also and promote it just as hard as my music, because I feel like there isn't anybody doing that. The closest person I can think of is one of my biggest inspirations, Mowalola.
Oh I know her.
Basically I'm gonna be Mowalola and Slawn if they were one. That's it, that's it, that's it!
Haha I get that. If you were to make a Nigerian playlist of five artists, who would be on it?
Listen: Luwa.Mp4! (Sings CYK BADDIE)
I like that song.
So much. Then his sister, Indi.
Oh, Indi’s good.
She is. I love her so much. Then, I guess Mowalola—she's got some bangers. And Rema! That’s actually my favorite artist of all time in the Afrobeats scene. I’ll literally die for that—
Hmm, are you sure this is just about the music?
Hahaha he’s also a very fine boy. But um, we’re not gonna talk about that. Anyway, I have one more artist. Trying to think …
Tems?
Tems! Sorry, she's my favorite! I love her so much. A vocal killer.
Was it ‘Replay’, the song of hers you were trying to play the guitar to?
I can't believe you found that by the way. I'm terrified.
You should be haha. We haven't talked about “Arrow Heart”, imagine.
It's okay. People always ask me about that, so it's like I have to repeat the same thing.
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True. On the EP, ‘Ready 4 It’ is my favourite. What do you think about that?
Wow, I love that. I appreciate that. Because ‘Ready 4 It’, I feel like it's a hard song to sonically digest. So if you like ‘Ready 4 It’, you just have taste.
Right, thank you. I like ‘Grey Matter’ a lot too because of how visual it is to me. I feel like the EP is a non-linear story. Well, that's if it's about one person. As a heartbreak album, I was wondering if the stories were all about the same guy, or—
Yes!
The same guy?
The same guy!
That's crazy.
That's crazy!
That must have been one big rollercoaster.
Like... If I tell you!
Because, there was a point where it was all good. That's probably on ‘Grey Matter’. Like a low-key relationship, and then there was ‘2099’ where you clocked that he was cheating, and on ‘Don’t Bother’ he's trying to explain why he cheated and you’re saying ‘Nah, don’t bother, man.’
Yeah, literally.
And then there was ‘Ready 4 It’ where it’s like he’s trying to apologize but you’re giving him your conditions. On ‘Game for Two’ you have come to terms with the reality of the relationship. It is tense, & there’s the tone of resignation that makes it just a perfect way to close the EP.
Wow, you really studied my work. I’m honored. Thank you for that.
It’s my pleasure. Enjoyed it. So, I got a song rec for you, Sade.
Oh, thank you. What is it?
‘Omoge Wa Jo’.
Wait, but I love that song!
You know the OG version, too?
Oh, the one that he sampled?
Yeah, the one he sampled.
Oh, okay.
I love that one as well. But listen to the OG version.
I will.
Now, your turn.
Oh. Um, Indi's new song!
Oh, I saw that. But I haven't listened yet, so I’m going to.
I can’t remember what it's called. I think it's only on YouTube. She ate that up.
I'll check. It was a pleasure having you around, Sade.
Oh, likewise. You’re great. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.
I hope you have an amazing end to your session, too.
Most artists want to be seen immediately. But up-and-coming Nigerian Afrobeats/Pop singer-songwriter Brume doesn’t really operate like that. Instead, his music feels less like an announcement and more like something you ease into over time–building slowly, almost quietly, until you realise you’ve been listening for longer than you intended.
Born William Okukulabe Oghenetejiri (aka Yano Boy), Brume has been shaping a fresh, upbeat and melodic sound within the new wave of contemporary African music, seen in his debut EP Rockstar, blending Afrobeats, highlife influences, and vibrant percussion into a bold, youthful emotionally aware body of work, with tracks like “Your Woman,” “Bum Bum”, and “Last Card” revealing an artist equally comfortable in confidence as he is in vulnerability–a trait that’s positioned him as one of Nigeria’s rising talents, gaining steady regional recognition.
But what makes Brume compelling isn’t simply the music; it’s the mindset shaping it. “Presently, I’m leaning into who I am,” he tells Deeds. “If you pay attention, it sounds like it’s more than one person singing when you hear my songs, so I’m letting my multiple personalities have fun on every record. That way I embrace how my brain thinks…there’s always something new for every record.”
That restlessness is written all over his artistry. While Afrobeats continues to dominate globally, Brume belongs to a younger crop of artists stretching its boundaries rather than simply reproducing its most commercial forms. Across his catalogue, he pulls from alté textures, softer melodies, and emotionally driven songwriting without ever fully committing to one lane. The result is a sound that resists easy placement, not because it’s trying to be genreless, but because emotion sits at the centre of everything.
And for Brume, that emotional honesty comes from lived experience. “To me, music is art,” he says. “I grew up in a military background, going to military school. My emotions were suppressed…the only way I get to speak and talk is through my music. I just want my listeners to feel everything I’ve taught myself to feel.”
That vulnerability, paired with his melodic control, is what separates Brume from many of his peers in a scene that often prioritises immediacy. His latest release “Many Girls” in March alongside Thizislondon, the renowned record producer and DJ whose work with Rema, Ayra Starr, 6LACK [has helped shape the current sound of mainstream Afrobeats]; marked perhaps his biggest co-sign yet–and a glimpse into what comes next, without forcing Brume to abandon what makes his music distinct describing the (dubbed) hot-girl anthem as, “...showcasing a personality nobody has seen from me. I keep evolving. I hate doing the same thing...”
That may be Brume’s biggest strength right now. His artistry doesn’t feel engineered for virality or built around predictable formulas. Instead, it relies on something harder to manufacture: mood, restraint, and a willingness to keep evolving. Not every artist benefits from that kind of slow discovery. Brume does!
Sophia Wanjiku quit her job as a domestic worker in Thika, Kenya at the end of 2020 and made a decision that had no obvious commercial logic: she would record vocals in Kikuyu, a language the industry had long treated as too regional, local, and small, and sell them as sample packs to producers she had never met. This week, the Kenyan singer, performing under her stage name Sofiya Nzau, crossed 750 million total streams on Spotify. No East African artist has done that before
Her path to that number came from an unlikely source. Brazilian DJ Zerb was on Splice, a paid sample licensing platform, searching for a vocal that could anchor a beat he had built. He spent about an hour browsing before he found a Kikuyu vocal clip that matched his instrumental's key exactly. He did not know what the lyrics meant. He reached out to Nzau on Instagram, she told him the song was about a woman fighting for a love her parents refused to accept, and he finished the track. “Mwaki”, which means "fire" in Kikuyu, was released on 10 November 2023. Within weeks, it was viral on TikTok, and within months, it had hit No. 1 on Spotify's Global Viral Chart and spawned remixes from Tiësto, Major Lazer, and Franky Wah. The original track is sung entirely in Kikuyu. Not a word of English.
Following Mwaki's global breakthrough, Nzau became the first East African artist to surpass 10 million monthly listeners on Spotify, held the title of the most-listened-to Kenyan artist on the platform for a significant stretch of 2025, and released “Wacuka” with German producer AVAION, a collaboration that crossed 60 million streams, with Germany emerging as her single largest market.
She participated in Tomorrowland's exclusive Lab of Tomorrow songwriting camp before taking the main stage in Boom, Belgium, becoming the first Kenyan and East African artist to ever perform at the festival, before a crowd of over 400,000. Her European tour kicked off on 13 July 2025 with a sold-out show in Amsterdam, taking her through Berlin, Paris and London. Ahead of the performance, Nzau spoke about what the European tour meant to her, describing it as life-changing and saying the love she felt from fans there in person was something she had not expected at that scale.
PLS&TY's track Your Love (Antdot Remix), which features Nzau, later landed on the official EA Sports FC 26 soundtrack alongside artists including Ed Sheeran.
East Africa has produced world-class female talent for years, talent that has largely been celebrated within the region while the global industry looked elsewhere. Tanzania's Zuchu, a Bongo Flava singer, became the first female East African artist to earn YouTube's Gold Play Button. Kenya's Nikita Kering, an Afropop singer, swept AFRIMA's Best Female Artist in East Africa award twice. These women did sustained, decorated work. None of them has cracked global streaming numbers at this scale, and that is not a reflection of their talent.
It is a reflection of how slowly the global industry moves on African women, until it cannot ignore the numbers any longer. Sofiya Nzau did not wait for a label co-sign or a feature from a bigger name. She uploaded vocal packs during a pandemic and let the music do what the industry said it could not. The path she has carved is real. The question now is who walks through it next.
IG: @zoannafr
It’s not Alté, it’s not Afrofusion, and it’s not the UK underground either. This is a whole movement of its own. We’ve been observing, we can feel it in our bones, but we haven’t been able to coin a term as a community just yet, while this underground soundwave is slowly boiling onto the surface. From Brotherkupa, Igwe Aka, Zaylevelten, Kayode, Paxslim and now PatricKxxLee–the UG (In short for underground music) movement has pushed niche African artists to be more creative and thoughtful about how they build an audience. We believe that Patrick, or R!CK, is at the forefront.
One thing about R!CK you must know is that he’s not new to this. He has been dropping music projects since the earliest of 2016. At the time, the US underground, or SoundCloud era, as some might call it, was booming, and all eyes were on this group of kids who seemingly had no care in the world and just wanted to make hit songs. Although we can not confirm, surely Patrick was inspired and wanted to live up to this momentum. Until now, we have begun to see the Zambian Boy benefitting from the fruit of his own labour.
To establish UG, not only will it take consistency and resilience, which are all things that Patrick has proven to have, but also the boldness to want to offer something different. While a set of genres work well and dominate the African continent, such as Afrobeats and Amapiano, taken from the spirit of both the US & UK diaspora, the underground scene sits on the underbelly and garners enough attention to be discussed. What sets UG apart is that they don’t cater to the music industry; they focus on growing a core fanbase, and whereas usually concerts and public appearances are the stronghold for an artist’s growth, the internet is their main stage.
Much like movements in the past, there are key elements we can already attribute to the main artists participating in UG. Those are: low-budget videos, nostalgic streetwear/Opium fashion, distinctive samples, African imageries and internet culture. That being said, it is not as easy as it looks, where one can simply group them all together and determine whether they will grow collectively or end up following different paths entirely.
Back to PatricKxxLee; he allows us to touch on a part of the world that most people know little of. Besides Zambian cloth, we don’t know enough about its culture, and music artists that represent the country. Patrick becomes the bridge to this reconciliation, and the fact that he has been repping his roots for so long and stands alone in amplifying the UG scene in Zambia makes it easy for him to stand out and conquer. From clips circulating online, we can see that Partick not only leads the new wave in his region, but also shows that there is a passionate Zambian audience seeking representation in the alternative soundscape.
Whether UG or underground music in Africa will truly take shape is yet to be determined; however, what we can be sure of is that its active members are working to make this movement last. For some, it might seem like yet another internet trend, destined to be placed on the curb as soon as another subgenre or subculture takes notice and people find a reason to become obsessed with it. But this is a real thing, and its audience is certainly there for the long run. From the online engagement, showing up to concerts and participating in the aesthetic, UG has a clear chance to make a lasting statement. Who knows? PatricKxxLee could be the voice that UG enthusiasts didn’t see coming.
When you press play on Kehlani's self-titled fifth album, one thing is clear: Kehlani is a true student of R&B. Her new album confirms the place she has earned in today's R&B scene. If that wasn’t proven by her GRAMMY win earlier this year for “Folded,” the rest of the album makes it obvious that her voice is a force in the genre.
Cloud 19 was her first mixtape, released in 2011, and since then, her career has included eight musical projects and five studio albums. The fifth being her self-titled, and indicative of a real insight that shows how far she has come and just how true she has been throughout her career. The gratification of earning her first GRAMMY 10 years after her first nomination is a real indication of all that she is and the love she has long been due.
With production credits from the likes of Andre Harris, Don Mills, Khris Riddick-Tynes, Jimmy Jam, and Terry Lewis, to name a few, it is no wonder that the album has a rich quality as you play through the 17 tracks. Sonically, there is enough variety to showcase different parts of Kehalni whilst still bringing it together in a way that is solid and definitely a contender for another GRAMMY if we do predict so ourselves.
The intro opens with spoken word on growth and “A voice stepping into its truth with no fears, no filters, no apologies.” The album’s first song features Lil Wayne on “Another Luva” and instantly recalls themes and sounds from her debut, SweetSexySavage. Lil Wayne is just one of the strong features here, joined by Virginia rap duo, R&B icons Brandy and Usher, T-Pain & Lil Jon, Cardi B, Big Sean, and Leon Thomas. Each feature adds its own flair, and Kehlani keeps pace with all.
Standout moments include the Brandy featured “I Need You”, which blends the voices of Kehlani and that of the vocal bible perfectly as they sing against the production of Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, with Brandy taking a verse of her own and coming together about still needing a significant other after the end of a relationship. The Missy Elliott feature “Back and Forth” is an ode to Aaliyah’s back-and-forth, encapsulating her vibe across the tracks. Usher’s “Should’ve Neva” plays straight from the school of Usher and is a great blend of the two together in a regretful situation. Kehlani and Cardi B’s musical chemistry has been on display across two songs now: “Ring,” “Safe,” and now “Pocket.” The sexually charged sees Cardi bring a verse that will no doubt be a standout for fans. Leon Thomas’s “Sweet Nuthins” feels like the representation of the new R&B on the album. Having joined him on his last album, he returns the favour with a song that really shows the two of them as the voices of R&B that they are. Whilst the features do bring that element to the album. Kehlani’s solo performances shine on their own, thanks to the quality she delivers. “Cruise Control” is a smooth one that sounds like it would play nicely in the sun. The album closer, “Unlearn,” is a self-reflective track and a perfect fit for the album.
The album ultimately feels like a real lesson in love, reflecting Kehlani's present chapter with insight and depth. With this release, Kehlani not only reaffirms her place in R&B but also sets the stage for continued evolution. It is a testament to her growth, her authenticity, and the powerful journey she invites listeners to share. This project is more than a collection of songs—it's a resonant milestone that points to a promising future.
Drake the 6 God, Tayc the King of Afrolove, and Lucki have all confirmed May 15, 2026 as a release date for their upcoming albums.
Drake's ninth studio album Iceman has been one of the most anticipated releases in recent memory. The project sits as the first full-length solo album following his very public rap battle with Kendrick Lamar in 2024. And so far, the rollout has been nothing short of eventful, with Drake appearing across livestreams, teasing unreleased music in raw snippets, and letting alternate versions of songs circulate online, he buried the release date inside a giant ice sculpture in downtown Toronto. Fans showed up with pickaxes and hammers. Someone lit part of it on fire. A streamer named Kishka eventually fished a bag out of the ice, made his way to Drake's mansion, and cracked open the packaging to find the date.
On the other side of the Atlantic, Tayc is stepping into the biggest moment of his career. The French-Cameroonian artist built his name on what he calls afrolove, slowburn R&B with African roots that found a massive audience in France and across the diaspora. His debut album Fleur Froide went diamond. JOŸA, his second solo album, is set to mark a darker, more orchestral, and personal turning point. This comes at a time when Tayc is at his most visible, currently sitting as a coach on The Voice in France, which will lead JOŸA to land in front of the biggest audience of his career.
Fans are anticipating his performance of the album live at La Seine Musicale in Paris on release day. For a generation of Africans and diaspora kids who grew up between two worlds, Tayc has always been the artist who understood that specific loneliness.
Then there is Lucki. The Chicago rapper has been one of underground hip hop's most consistent voices for over a decade, building a cult following through raw, detailed storytelling and a willingness to go places most artists avoid. His fifth studio album is called Dr*gs R Bad, a 26-track project rooted in his personal experience with addiction and recovery. He has been open about his battles with pill dependency and the album looks like his most direct reckoning with that chapter of his life yet.
When fans asked if he would move his date after Drake confirmed May 15, Lucki answered
"Maybe I would push the album back if I didn't have so much new swag. But me & Aubz 5/15 lets go."
Drake returns with the weight of a career-defining moment on his back, determined to remind the world why he built what he built. Tayc steps into the light he has been quietly earning for years, bringing afrolove to its grandest stage yet. And Lucki shows up honest, with so much to say across 26 tracks.
Destin Conrad’s ‘wHIMSY!’ is a Fever Dream You Won’t Want to Wake From
There’s a specific moment when you press play on a project and realize you’re not just listening to a playlist you’re stepping into someone’s world. With the deluxe drop of wHIMSY!, Destin Conrad has officially moved past the "R&B singer" label. In many ways, wHIMSY is a transportive, hazy odyssey into what he’s calling "alternative jazz"and it is the most honest he’s ever sounded.
The project sits as a bridge between eras. You’ve got these crisp hi-hats that keep you grounded in the present, but the melodies themselves feel like they’ve been pulled from a 1970s smoke-filled lounge. It’s got that new-age spoken word grit where the lyrics aren't just sung; they’re felt. What’s wild is how Conrad takes the most mundane, everyday topics and makes them feel intoxicatingly sexy. He has this way of romanticizing the "normal" until it feels like a movie scene.
Opening an album is an art, and on the perfectly titled "(MORE)LOVE" starring Jean Deaux you know you’re about to go on a trip the second it hits. The track is a slow-burn immersion that sets the stage for everything to follow. Jean Deaux’s presence adds a layer of texture that mimics a conversation you’re eavesdropping on. “Diamond Gold” showcases a melodic style and luxurious sound that makes listeners feel sexy. The jazz influence here is velvety and effortless, providing a backdrop for the way he carries himself with such refinement. It doesn’t feel arrogant. "NOTHING IS REAL" (w/ Terrace Martin) is where the "alternative jazz" label really earns its keep. It’s soulful, melodic, and deeply rhythmic. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to close your eyes and let the sound take the wheel. It feels like a core memory you haven't had yet. A lot of albums fizzle out at the end, but "LALALALA" brings it all home. It mirrors the upbeat energy of the start, giving the whole experience a beautiful, full-circle closure. It leaves you with a high-energy buzz, like the sun coming up after a long night out.
wHIMSY is an album that doesn't just play; it breathes. It’s a melodic time machine that manages to feel nostalgic for the past while being obsessed with the future. Conrad isn't just making music anymore he’s building an environment. If you’re looking for a project that feels like a cinematic voyage through sound, this is it. The album is proof that when you stop trying to fit into a genre and start trying to capture a feeling, you end up with something timeless.
On the night of April 20, a six-metre mountain of ice appeared in a Toronto parking lot at 81 Bond Street, cordoned by metal barriers and stamped with four words: "Release date inside." By midnight, it had just about 800 people around it. Police from three divisions. Firefighters. A sign that read "Danger Do Not Touch." Hordes of curious fans. An inspired car giveaway. And a Twitch streamer with a blowtorch to save us all the trouble.
This was the latest development in Drake's album rollout for "Iceman", his ninth studio album, now confirmed for May 15. For whatever kind of marketing or branding strategy you thought it was, you simply can not look away from the spectacle that it is. Before the big reveal, the stunt had been building for days. Drake's courtside seats at the Toronto Raptors' game against the Brooklyn Nets at Scotiabank Arena were frozen into sculpted ice on April 12, and the footage did not take long to go viral.
Only days later, a confirmed explosion shook Downsview Park in north Toronto, which the city confirmed as a production tied to the superstar. Then came the announcement of the coordinates from his record label. Then the blocks of ice and chaos. Curiosity had fans climbing the structure, lighting campfires on top of it, and attacking it with anything they could find, including pickaxes and, weirdly unsurprisingly, a blowtorch.
Twitch streamer Kishka eventually extracted a blue bag marked "Freeze the world," while live-streaming the discovery. The rest of the reveal was done at Drake's "The Embassy" mansion, where Kishka, directed by Adin Ross, walked away with a sealed bag of cash as a reward for quite literally breaking the ice. Other items found in the structure included a white t-shirt that read "2026 will be my year" and a blurry selfie of the Canadian rapper.
Drake himself posted his reaction with characteristic grandiosity: "THIS ALBUM BOUT TO PLAY INFINTESEMELY KNOW DAT," and the internet, from experience, will completely oblige him.
From this writer's perspective, it is rather difficult to watch this rollout and not notice what it is also doing beyond the optics. For context, "Iceman" is Drake's first solo album since his 2024 feud with Kendrick Lamar; a period in which he was publicly and comprehensively outmanoeuvred. Kdot's "Not Like Us" became an anthem of his humiliation, and his authority as the dominant figure in hip-hop was genuinely contested for the first time in a decade.
The ice metaphor throughout this rollout campaign is not neutral. Coldness. Imperviousness. Control. A man preserved beneath the surface, untouched, and in wait. The rollout is not just clever marketing. It is a carefully constructed counter-narrative that, on Drake's end, buries the conversation about the feud entirely with a louder visual response of unflurried composure.
Ultimately, whether "Iceman" justifies the mythology it has already built is a question for May 15, and given the artist that Drake is, that justification is already in order.
Kenyan R&B singer-songwriter Bridget Blue has quietly built a name for herself through emotionally rich songwriting and a soft, controlled vocal style–first gaining attention through covers before releasing projects like ‘Colours’ (2022) and ‘24’ (2024). With her latest album RNB, she delivers her most cohesive and fully realized work yet.
At just 12 tracks long,RNB feels less like a playlist and more like a slow-burning conversation, one that unfolds with intention and emotional precision. It’s a project that trusts its own pace and in doing so, invites you to sit with it. Across the album, Blue leans fully into a sound that feels intentional, unhurried and deeply rooted in emotion, reaffirming her place in the ever-evolving Kenyan R&B landscape.
Blue describes the album as,”[me being] bare and vulnerable and just pouring my whole soul. It’s what I truly wanted to say for so long.” From the opening notes of ‘Ngozi Kama Jua,’ there’s an immediate sense that this is not just a collection of songs, but a carefully constructed body of work. Tracks like ‘Ni Wewe’ and ‘Mbuzi’ glide into ‘Sober’ with a natural ease, each record feeling like a response to the last.
By the midpoint of ‘9 to 5’ [Blue’s rebuff of the pressures to be more digestible, singing, "I'm too pretty for a nine-to-five / Too loud for a quiet life / Biting my tongue just to stay polite…”] and ‘Waters of My Enemies’—the emotional stakes deepen, before easing into the reflective warmth of ‘Always Mine’ to reveal a record created with a cohesive narrative about love, vulnerability, self-awareness and emotional release. Even towards the closing stretch, ‘Set Me Free,’ ‘Kuna Yule,’ and ‘Umbrella’, there’s a sense of arrival, like the emotional arc has come full circle as evidenced in her live listening sessions to promote the album at KODA Nairobi.
Lyrically, she remains just as compelling. Whether it’s the tenderness of ‘I Choose You’ featuring Bien–a masterclass in vocal chemistry with over 4M+ streams currently–released late 2024 in the lead up to the album. Bien’s textured, expressive delivery folds seamlessly into her softness, creating a duet that feels rich and layered. Similarly, ‘Mimi Na Wewe’ with Nikita Kering is nothing short of a “soundgasm.” For fans who have long imagined what a meeting between two of Kenya’s most compelling R&B voices would sound like, this track delivers–and then some. Nikita doesn’t overpower or get overshadowed; instead, she meets Blue exactly where she is, and together they create something immersive, lush and deeply satisfying.
And perhaps what’s striking is that Blue doesn’t rely on these features; they simply expand her world. They add dimension without taking away from her center, which remains strong throughout the album. In the broader conversation about Kenyan R&B, RNB feels like a defining statement. The genre has been steadily growing, carving out space both locally and globally; and Bridget Blue’s name belongs firmly within that conversation [with her] stating, “I feel like more true R&B singers are coming up, and I feel like they are not shy about it anymore.”
That ability to captivate in the most ordinary settings has evidently been part of her magic since her come-up. And the growth is undeniable. Ultimately now with ‘RNB’ Bridget Blue is rest assuredly stepping into her sound, with a clearer identity and confident execution–or at the very least, fully realized in this current phase of her artistry.
If there were a magical button that could bring me back to a period in time, a music era just for a day, before safely returning to the modern age, then it no doubt has to be the early 2010s. In a time when we were just introduced to the first iPhone, social media platforms were about collecting memories, instead of fabricating them, and everyone was less self-absorbed or micro-online. The earliest tastemakers knew how to test the waters, bringing the vibes organically while getting us hooked to the most legendary dance moves, fashion perks, and community gatherings.
Now that trends evaporate out of thin air and no longer hold the same impact they used to, internet culture tends to recycle the past, claiming it as new, while forgetting what brought us here today. That is what our new content series, Forgotten Jams, is all about: going back in time to reignite a feeling, view the world through a nostalgic lens, and making us whine our waist left and right, even if it is just for one more night.
When we tell you that these songs, theese songs, will forever be ingrained in our memories, there’s no exaggeration here. For a lot of Gen Z’s, now young working adults, those are the moments that defined our childhood, whether you were in South London through the wishy-washy weathers, or stuck in Lagos in the sub-Saharan heat. Deeds Magazine carefully selected a list of songs that have the power to revisit your past self and reignite your inner child that hasn’t felt like themselves since the good ol’ days.
For me, one of the artists who defined the early 2010s is none other than Sneakbo. Coming from Brixton, of Nigerian descent, his bangers always felt close to home and a staple to the broader diaspora community in the UK & Europe. Sneakbo’s ability to mix electronic productions with an Afropop flair, and on top of that, rap lyrics that make your head bop, can only be described as chef kiss. ‘Her Name’ in particular stings like glue because nothing could have prepared us non-Igbo speakers, now as grown adults, for the meaning behind some of those lyrics.
To this day, we don’t know why our Nigerian friends could not have warned us what the word “Ashawo” means, and instead danced Azonto along with us when the chorus hit the speakers. That being said, a moment has been had. All confusion can easily be washed away with a glass of gin and a radio anthem.
“Visit IROKING.COM for more Nigerian Music” Are we seeing a trend here? This is because music videos dominated the 2010s, and Nigerian artist Iyanya’s ‘Kukere’ is no different. All you needed was a catchy refrain, captivating visuals, and a few dance moves, and you had yourself a hit song. Iyanya sent waves to the dance floor, adored by children and old people alike. Exactly like the Efik language suggests, don’t worry. And that message was felt as soon as we played this song and sang the first lyrics: “All my ladies / All my ladies”. Wow, they don’t make it like this anymore.
If we’re talking about a song that could unify every African nationality because of its universal rhythm, this was the one. Similar to the timeless video, when you stepped out in a Congolese wedding, and this song came up, you knew it was time to leave the stage and let your uncle do his thing. Looking back, Iyanya really created an uncle riddim.
The entire skit by comedian Lil Win was genius. Perhaps a close candidate that could have competed with Azonto moves at the time was the Ghanaian dance Alkayida. Guru’s song was just the cherry on top. Despite the recent controversies that gave this replay button a bad reputation, in the 2010s, this was a go-to for many young Africans. Not only did people dance to this, but it also brought us one of our first clashes between Nigerians and Ghanians. Truthfully, both regions have always wanted to claim they were first and basically argue about who had the culture on lock.
What many may ignore is that in this period, influence was much more fairly distributed, while today the dominant forces reign from Lagos and key figures in South Africa. Our playlists ranged from Kenyan anthems to Nigerian, Ivorian, Ghanaian, Congolese, South African, and so much more. In its recent surge of international recognition, the gates have shrunken, with African artists in less popular regions no longer being able to reach the continent & beyond like the early internet age.
When British-Ghanaian artist Fuse ODG came into the scene and brought us hit after hit by cleverly watering down Afropop music, so that it may reach a broader audience, ‘Antenna’ symbolises that era at its peak. Coming of age, we realize that although it seemed like songs such as ‘Azonto’ and ‘Million Pound Girl’ were being played around the world, Fuse’s music truly spoke and connected with diaspora communities the most. This is because he used to sing in English, which was really uncommon at the time, without any sort of mix with native languages.
Moreover, we think that his success can be credited to the dance challenges that came along, specifically from a Manchester duet who had us mimicking every single move in our school breaks. It is safe to say that nobody came as close as the reign of Ghanaians in the early 2010s, and Fuse ODG was a key player in amplifying it.
Looking back, we really have a hard time explaining the phenomenon, which is ‘Oliver Twist’ by Nigerian artist D’Banj. For example, the music video was completely different from what was popular at the time, which had a sombre look similar to the appeal you would get in an American Rap video. The song didn’t come with any memorable dance moves. Aside from the white male dressed in a Peaky Blinders-like outfit, there really weren’t any 2010s elements we were used to attributing to–Still, we were hooked.
To think of it, celebrity culture definitely fell into play here. To have a Kanye West appearance at the time, and at the very last minute of the video, really boosted the popularity of the song. D’Banj was big, but the Americans’ Rap appeal was bigger, and there’s nothing like global influence, such as Black American culture, who have dominated culture since the beginning of Hip-Hop.
Songs and eras may come and go, like falling snow; however, Forgotten Jams is forever, and we have a ton more hits to revisit. Make sure to tune in for our next episode!
Alternative R&B artist kosi returns with a new single “3AM”
On “3AM” she works through the familiarf eeling of yearning for a deeper connection from a loved one and pushes the narrative further by sitting in the feeling, no longer waiting for closure, but recognizing she never needed it.
kosi wants her listeners to move in closer, letting the emotions speak and trusting them to meet her there at those moments that feel intimate, and real.
“3AM”is rooted inAlternativeR&B while still blending textured production with subtle afro and global influences, and is the first single off her anticipated EP“UpTill 5"
kosi opened up 2026 with the single “UNO” ftRigo Kamp in february and followed up with a surpised track “Her Eyes (CryDiary 1.1)” featuring producer Dan Akins where she confronts the feeling of wanting to be someone else.
Still emerging, kosi. is building a catalog with a clear sense of self. Pairing dynamic soundscapes with writing that resonates, each release pushing her artistry forward and cementing her as an artist unwilling to be boxed in.
She isn't chasing a lane.
She's carving her own.
Socials:
IG: @thatkosi
X: @thatkosi
Tiktok: @thatkosi
gmail:kosiofodum@gmail.com
When we speak of Black excellence, Bassa Zéréhoué Diyilem, better known as Didi B, sits at the pinnacle of that hill. Stemming from one of Africa's busiest cities, Abidjan, Ivory Coast, success wasn’t just given to him. It was something he had to fight for. Today, the heavy hitter is respected amongst culture leaders from all walks of life, as a pioneering voice who populariszed French Rap on the African continent and beyond. Together with Kiff No Beat, an Ivorian Award-winning Rap group founded in 2009, he reached unimaginable heights for African kids from the streets, ultimately placing Ivorian Rap in the limelight.
Not everyone can claim full-dominance for almost 15 years in the music business, since his debut solo project ‘Mojo trone, vol. 1’ back in 2013. Didi B remains just as good with his pen. Through controversies and hardships, the Rap mogul not only remained on everyone’s music playlists, but he also persevered through it all. The recent release of his deluxe edition of ‘Juventus Nueva Era’ is a testimony to his power hold. Deeds Magazine sat down with Didi B in an exclusive conversation to discuss his triumphs, his shortcomings, and everything that lies in between.
Laurène for Deeds Magazine: Can you tell us who you are and where you're based?
Didi B: I'm Bassa Zéréhoué Diyilem, known as Didi B, an Ivorian rapper. Sometimes I'm called Mojaveli or Bayo. I'm based in Ivory Coast.
It's not every day that we hear about an artist who breaks through in Abidjan. Can you tell us what it was like growing up there?
Abidjan is the hub of African music. Many artists have seen their careers take off after starting in the Ivory Coast. Like any music industry, it doesn't happen overnight, that's for sure. Abidjan is the city that's always on the go, the city where our neighbors are our second family, the city where young people have supported us since our early days at Faya Flow with the group Kiff No Beat, the city where hospitality is the key word. It's the city of alloco (I didn't say Alokos, lol), attiéké, garba, and grilled fish. I grew up in all of that. I've had, and still have, some great times there.
For us, as outsiders, when we think of the Ivory Coast, we often think of Coupé Décalé and Magic System. How were you introduced to Rap, and which artists did you listen to?
Big up to the masters A'salfo, Manadja, Goudé, and Tino! I grew up with this legendary group, but also with artists like Alpha Blondy and Meiway, who are like father figures to me and people I admire for their talent and their ability to stay relevant despite all these years. Like every kid my age, we were into French and US Rap. But predecessors like Garba 50 and Almighty inspired me. I started rapping in Bingerville with my friends Black K and Elow'n, then Joochar and Eljay. After our victory at Faya Flow in 2010, a Hip-Hop competition, we went pro.
With your friends, you founded a group called Kiff No Beat in 2009. The first African Hip-Hop group to sign with Universal Music. What has your journey been like?
A journey full of pitfalls and obstacles, but also some wonderful things. We experienced a lot of firsts with the group, notably being the first Francophone African rap group at Coke Studio. The group was heavily supported by Ivorian teenagers and young adults, at a time when Rap wasn't the dominant musical genre in Côte d'Ivoire. In 2010, the group won Faya Flow, a Hip-Hop competition. Following that, with people who believed in us, like DA Carmen, our producer, and Shado Chris, our first beatmaker, we launched our professional career. As for albums, I can mention “Christmas Gift” in 2011, “Jackson Five” in 2013, “Teenage Firecrackers” in 2014, “Cubism” in 2015… along with singles and collaborations. This work has been rewarded with numerous titles, such as “Revelation of the Year” in 2011 and “Best Rap/Hip-Hop Group” in 2012 and 2013 at the Ivorian Music Awards.
Almost 15 years in the business, it’s a privilege to have you with us. What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned?
I’ve learned that talent isn’t enough. You have to surround yourself with a solid team, be professional, and understand the music industry.
Out of curiosity, was there ever a moment when you thought, “Wow, I’ve really reached the top. Where do I go from here?” Have you ever felt this way in your career, and how did you overcome it?
I tell myself that all the time, when I'm performing, when I release a new project, but I immediately tell myself I have to get to work and do even better.
One thing we didn't see on the Juventus Nueva Era deluxe edition is a collaboration with a Nigerian artist. Of course, you've already worked with numerous acts like Burna Boy. Are there others in the English-speaking world that you plan to collaborate with in the future?
I've also worked with Naira Marley and Ziloneesky on other projects. We're also working on breaking into the English-speaking market. In fact, I was the first French-speaking artist to receive Gold certification in Nigeria for my song, "Good Vibes" featuring Ziloneesky.
There's a new scene developing in the Ivory Coast, similar to the 'Nigerian underground,' also called 'NigerianUG.' What do you think of it? This movement?
Are you talking about Biama? If you're talking about this new scene, I find it incredible. Seeing young people from working-class neighbourhoods, like me at the very beginning of my career, getting Ivorians dancing to this musical style makes me happy and boosts my creativity. Music is about innovation, but it's also about joy, and that's what Biama conveys.
It was actually a separate scene, but wow! You are putting us on now. One of the biggest fanatical clashes in French rap pitted you against Himra. Where does your relationship stand today?
We're focused on the Zénith.
Finally, is there any important news you'd like to share with the public?
The Ebimpe Stadium for next year.
Thank you for your time, Didi B.
In August 2010, a teenage Wizkid posted on X: “I like Fally Ipupa’s music nd style!! lol.. tho I don’t understand wat he say’s bt d tin jst sweet!..” A year later, in October 2011, he was back: “gatto do something wit fally ipupa too!!…” He eventually did - on 'Yakuza', roughly a decade ago. Now they have 'Jam'. Some things are simply inevitable.
West Africa has always felt the pull of Fally Ipupa’s sound travelling across borders, subverting language and cultural barriers for years before any formal introduction was necessary. “Jam” is one of those moments.
For the West African listener encountering Fally Ipupa properly for the first time, the context matters. Often referred to as the “Prince of Rumba,” Fally is a Congolese musician known for his tenor vocals and his fusion of Congolese rumba, soukous and ndombolo. This year marks 20 years of his solo career which began with the 2006 release of his debut studio album Droit Chemin. Set to honour 20 years of relentless hits, he is set to release his eighth studio album, XX with performing two back-to-back sold out shows at the Stade de France.
“Jam” sits within XX as a reunion of sorts, the two artists having last worked together roughly a decade ago on ‘Yakuza’. But those old tweets reframe the collaboration entirely. Wizkid’s admiration for Fally did not begin in a studio. That is the most honest kind of appreciation there is, and ‘Jam’ sounds like the product of it.
The song does not rush. Fally’s vocal runs carry the weight of the track while Wizkid moves alongside them, unhurried, his delivery fitting the soukous-influenced rhythm rather than pulling against it. Producer Trésor Riziki keeps the production clean, blending organic and electronic textures without crowding the space the vocalists need. The soukous-influenced rhythm underneath is the kind that the body recognises before the mind does - familiar on first listen, satisfying on every listen after. The hook is simple and stubborn. It stays.It does not demand anything except attention, and it rewards that attention without making a fuss about it.
When fans found those old tweets and replied “Now we have Jam” - they were marking something beyond a release. Fally Ipupa has spent two decades being one of the most significant artists on this continent. That this is many people's first proper encounter with him says less about the music and more about the walls that have kept African scenes from fully hearing each other.
Over the past decade, Afrobeats has expanded far beyond its Nigerian and West African roots, evolving into a global sonic language that moves fluidly across continents. It’s everywhere and still somehow treated like it’s on the verge of arriving. You hear it in clubs in London, in TikTok audios in New York, in playlists that cut across continents without much concern for geography. The artists are touring globally, collaborating widely, building audiences that don’t need to be explained into existence.
Its growth has been driven less by traditional industry pipelines and more by digital ecosystems–streaming platforms, diaspora communities, and social media circulation. In many ways, Afrobeats has already achieved what older industry models would define as global success: sold-out tours, charting records, cross-genre collaborations and cultural influence that extends into fashion, dance and internet culture.
Put all of that together and you start to see the pattern: there isn’t one way to do this. But the Western music industry still tends to act like there is. It’s an assumption that says more about how we’ve been taught to measure success than it does about the current state of Afrobeats.
Recently, a clip reposted by Afrotoday–featuring a self-proclaimed superfan of Ayra Starr urging her to “go back home” and abandon her U.S.-facing trajectory. The logic is simple: her attempts to expand into the U.S. market aren’t landing as expected. But the statement reveals something deeper than critique. It reflects a lingering belief that Western validation remains the ultimate benchmark, even as the structures that once upheld that idea begin to shift.
For audiences raised on linear narratives of success, local recognition followed by Western breakthrough–the current landscape can feel unsettled. But for artists, the reality is far less linear and far more fluid. For Starr, signed to Mavin Records but internationally managed by Roc Nation and operating within a broader global distribution network, she exists between markets that demand different things from her. In Nigeria and across parts of Europe, she is already a fully realised pop star distinct, recognisable, and culturally embedded. In the United States, however, her presence is still forming, often arriving in fragments rather than as a fully constructed narrative.
That gap is not a failure of artistry. It is a reflection of how different systems process visibility. Across the industry, her peers illustrate just how varied these pathways can be. Tems has moved through prestige collaborations and film placements, building a quieter but deeply rooted presence in Western markets. Burna Boy has prioritised global touring, creating scale that exists largely outside the need for American radio validation. Rema achieved a rare crossover moment through viral success that translated across markets. And Tyla has been positioned in alignment with Western pop frameworks, making her rise more legible within that system.
Taken together, these trajectories don’t suggest inconsistency. They expose the limits of a system still measuring success through “breaking America,” an increasingly outdated metric that fails to account for how Afrobeats actually moves. The American market, in particular, continues to rely on legacy systems: radio play, rigid genre categorisation and slow-burn artist development cycles built around control. Afrobeats, by contrast, thrive in environments that are fast, decentralised and borderless. Songs travel before artists do. Hits emerge organically, often without the kind of label orchestration Western systems are designed to manage.
To understand this friction more clearly, it helps to return to the genre’s roots. Afrobeats can be traced back to Nigeria and music icon Fela Kuti, widely considered the architect of Afrobeat. Popularised in the 1970s, Afrobeat merged American jazz and funk with traditional Yoruba music. Over time, that foundation evolved into Afrobeats–a broader, more fluid umbrella used to describe contemporary West African pop music that draws from those origins.
Afrobeats, then, is not a singular genre but an umbrella term often used to describe contemporary West African pop music. And it is precisely this fluidity that resists easy categorisation within Western industry frameworks.
For decades, Western labels have positioned themselves as the site of global arrival–the place where genres are not just heard, but confirmed. To succeed within that system is to become legible on its terms.
But Afrobeats complicates that logic. Western labels are now navigating a steep learning curve, moving from early indifference to aggressive and at times clumsy investment. Major players like Sony Music Entertainment and Universal Music Group have established offices in Lagos, tapping into a market that has already proven its global viability. Yet the issue remains whether these institutions understand the nuance of Afrobeats, or if they are simply repackaging it for Western consumption.
As Afrobeats Intelligence host Joey Akan notes of Ayra Starr’s trajectory, “With Roc Nation’s proven U.S. market dominance and Mavin/Universal’s backing, she’s poised to become Nigeria’s next global breakout.” The infrastructure is clearly in place. The ambition is undeniable. But infrastructure does not guarantee understanding because the challenge has never been about access but translation. Not translation as language, but as framing. How do you present a genre that is already global without reducing it to a trend? How do you introduce an artist to a new market without flattening what makes them distinct? How do you work with movement rather than attempting to contain it?
What appears, on the surface, as a stalled crossover may not be a failure at all. It may be a system struggling to catch up. That reframing shifts the conversation entirely. It suggests that the question is no longer whether Afrobeats can be absorbed into Western systems, but if those systems can adapt to something that does not centre them. And that is a far more difficult adjustment to make.
It requires abandoning the idea that there is a single, definitive version of success. It means recognising that an artist can be globally influential without being universally legible within every market. It means accepting that not all forms of cultural movement are designed to translate cleanly and that forcing them to do so risks losing what made them powerful in the first place.
The fan in the viral clip might be asking Ayra Starr to go back home. But the more pressing question is whether “home” and “away” still function in the way that statement assumes. Because if Afrobeats has already redrawn the map, then the idea of a singular destination, of one place where success is finally confirmed–no longer holds the same weight. And if that’s the case, then the real challenge isn’t for the artists. It’s for the system still trying to make sense of them.
Let me remind you that the new joint project ‘See What We’ve Done’ by King Promise and Mr Eazi is not just your mere industry get-together. King, a Highlife award-winning Ghanaian artist, and Mr Eazi, the Nigerian Banku Music champion, are joining forces in celebration of a lifelong brotherhood. This is almost ten years in the making, coupled with an unbreakable friendship that we are fortunate enough to witness it through a sonic delight. You asked for it, and the famous pair delivered–with every second’s warm ambience and serenading lyrics reminding us all how much we’ve missed hearing the two together.
This should come as no surprise, after supporters have been anticipating for years for an official comeback of Afrobeats’ favourite duo. 9-track of pure expressionism twisted in Twi, English and Pidgin, existing within the realm of Afropop/R&B, and they all trace back to a studio session in Accra in 2013. Since then, the brothers by spirit have garnered flourishing careers, settling in a world of romance. Deeds Magazine sat down with King Promise to unfold the collaborative album and set the record straight: Ghana’s and Nigeria’s undeniable bond is here to stay, and at full display in ‘See What We’ve Done’.
Laurène for Deeds Magazine: When you first announced a collaborative project, it really took the world for a spin! We had seen your friendship blossom before our eyes, with you recently attending Eazi’s wedding, but nothing could prepare us for this sonic ride between the two soft giants of West Africa. Tell us, how did the idea for seeing what you’ve done initially come about?
King Promise: It was actually very organic. Mr Eazi and I have built a real friendship over the years, beyond just music. We’ve always appreciated each other’s sound and the space we each occupy in Afrobeats. This is the right time to create something together. It started from our fans actually calling for more music from us after our initial collaborations had all been epic. We obviously have individual careers and mad personal schedules, so it's taken quite a while. Still, finally, after a few years of the fans asking and us also wanting to do it, the album is finally here.
Listening to the album carefully, it’s ‘Dabedi’ all over again, but times a hundred! If I’m not mistaken, in 2018, this was our first official introduction of you two together in the same music realm. Little did we know as supporters that almost a decade later, ‘See What We’ve Done’ would be at our front door. Why was it important to unveil the project now in the year 2026?
Yeah, “Dabebi” with Mr Eazi was definitely a moment and looking back now, it almost feels like a seed we planted without even realizing how far it would grow. I think what makes See What We’ve Done special is timing. Back then, we had chemistry, but now we have experience, growth, and a deeper understanding of ourselves as artists and as people. We’ve both evolved, sonically and personally, and that reflects in the music.
Speaking of nostalgia, on the single “That Way”, you reinterpreted the American Pop classic, “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys. It’s like the song was given a new breath of life, a refreshing outlook, and some African sun rays, of course. Who came up with this brilliant mashup?
I did. Haha. The idea first came from a conversation I was having with my manager early last year as I was working on my next body of work. We spoke about sampling more records that made sense after the success of my song “Favourite Story” He said, “Why not do something different for the next one from a boyband?” That sounded epic to me, and after going through some of our fav boyband classics, “I Want It That Way” spoke to me instantly. It’s one of those timeless records almost everyone grew up on, so there was already that emotional connection. Honestly, that was one of those moments that just happened most naturally.
Fast forward, I had already gotten in the studio with Guiltybeatz and Jae5 and made the record just before I went to Dubai for Eazi’s wedding. We were in a car heading to the wedding when I played it for him while we were catching up, discussing music, and what the next steps were for each other. That was the birth of See What We’ve Done because we agreed on that drive to finally make it happen.
There was a time when you couldn’t speak of Ghana without Nigeria in the same sentence. In the early 2010s, which I like to call the prime of Afrobeats, the two regions were in constant battle with each other. But it was healthy competition! Whereas now, it seems like the limelight has mainly shifted to Nigeria, specifically Lagos. This joint project brought some of that early feeling back. I wonder, where’s there some of that friendly rivalry during studio sessions?
I get what you mean, because that Ghana–Nigeria dynamic has always been part of the culture, and it definitely pushed the sound forward. But for us, it’s never really been about competition; it’s more like motivation. I think what this project shows is that it’s not Ghana versus Nigeria, it’s Ghana and Nigeria. When you blend those two energies, it becomes something bigger than both sides. At the end of the day, it’s all about making great music that represents where we come from.
On a lighter note, I think the main theme of this project is love. During my first listen, I wrote down the following: “The theme of love throughout See What We’ve Done reflects the stage of each artist’s life, and comes at the cost of an unbreakable brotherhood.” King, can you tell us three things you love about your friend Eazi?
First, I’d say, ambition. Second, his mindset. He’s always thinking bigger than just music. He thinks about business, impact, and legacy. Being around that kind of energy pushes you to show up in your own way. Lastly, the goal is to enjoy life, be himself and not let anything stress him.
We can’t talk about music without looking at the current soundscape. One thing about both of your contributions is that you’ve always been in your own lane and prioritized growth with your listeners over the music industry. Do you believe there is intentional, timeless, African music of substance, circulating in the mainstream arena right now?
Yeah, I definitely think it exists, but you have to be intentional about finding it, just like the artists have to be intentional about making it. The mainstream today is very fast. There's a lot of music coming out, a lot of trends, a lot of moments. But within all of that, there are still artists creating timeless, meaningful African music. Music that isn’t just for now, but something you can come back to years later and still feel.
Thinking about you as a duo, it really does make sense now. Of course, we had Asake and Wizkid release earlier this year, Tems and Dave working, Angélique and Ayra Starr surprisingly. How would you say that you manage to stand out from the crowd?
I think first of all, it’s a beautiful time for the culture, seeing collaborations like Asake and Wizkid, Tems and Dave, even Angélique Kidjo and Ayra Starr, it just shows how wide and powerful African music has become. For Mr Eazi and me, I think what makes us stand out is the intention behind what we have created. It wasn't put together by a label or management. It wasn't orchestrated by anyone, but a friendship of about 13 years from boys to men. We’re not just putting songs together; we've built a body of work that reflects our journey, our friendship, and our growth over time.
You’re known as tastemakers, trendsetters and trailblazers not only in Africa, but across the world. Who are emerging artists, either from Ghana or Nigeria, you think we should be tuning into today?
There’s a lot of exciting talent coming up right now; honestly, it’s a great time for the next generation. From Ghana, I’d say keep an eye on Black Sherif, OliveTheBoy, Lasmid, Arathejay and Kojo Black. I would leave Nigeria to Eazi.
When this interview is released, the project will most likely already be out by now. Is there an important message you would like to say to your long-time supporters?
First of all, I just want to say thank you. To everyone who has been rocking with us from day one, and to those who are just discovering the music now, I don’t take any of it for granted.
This project with Eazi is really a reflection of growth, patience, and staying true to ourselves. And the fact that the fans have allowed us to evolve, to experiment, and to still support us at this level means everything.
Finally, this is an exclusive, by the way, I’m speaking it into the universe. Can we fans expect some tour dates for the album anytime soon? If yes, when?
I like that, you’re putting it out there already. We’re still putting things together, making sure it’s done the right way
Thank you, King Promise, for your time.
We've discussed the Toronto music scene for some time, noting artists such as Dylan Sinclair and Aqyila as key representatives of Toronto's R&B. Now, as these artists make their mark, they highlight the region's rich, growing talent.
Amongst those artists is also Chxxry. As a child of two Ethiopian immigrants who made their way to Canada, she is also part of the Canadian R&B story. Her musical presence became known through her viral hit “Main Character,” released last year. However, before the moment happened for her, she was somebody who had been a part of the music scene for a minute. As someone who grew up singing, it is not foreign to her. Her debut single, “The Falls”, introduced her with a darker, somewhat more alternative vibe that drew on Toronto R&B natives The Weeknd and PARTYNEXTDOOR and very much set the tone for R&B artists to come.
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Now, 4 years since her debut, she is creating something for herself and pushing beyond what is expected from her. With two EPs under her belt, she is ready for her album, expected to drop later this year. The first single of the album just arrived. “Hall of Fame” is an introduction to this new era and is the first taste of what we can expect from the album, and has been described as “pre-party for my album”. Having just concluded her opening slot on Mariah The Scientist’s Hearts Sold Separately Tour, playing for audiences all over the world, it's clear that this is a new chapter in Chxrry’s story. We met Chxxry and spoke about everything from her musical journey so far to her time as an artist in Toronto, redefining her sound, her upcoming album, and more.
Hi Chxxry, great to meet you. Starting at the beginning, what was your initial introduction to music?
So both my parents immigrated to Toronto from Ethiopia and didn't speak English. They both sang in a choir, so growing up, my parents just made us sing a lot. They made us sing a lot of Christian songs, Ethiopian songs, all my home videos, all my early childhood memories were of singing that was weirdly our love language, and that was what bonded us and bridged the gap of us being first gen and them being immigrants. So that's just really how I got into music, it was through my parents,
And was there a particular moment when you knew that singing was something you wanted to do beyond just being a hobby?
I think it was my brothers; they just weren't as good as I was. So it was obvious when we would all sing, and it'd be like she sounds really good, like, she's really standing out. And then I remember the choir director at my church. He went to my dad and said to him, " You know, she could really sing, like, you should really take this seriously”. And my dad had a friend, actually, who was adamant, like he used to tell him that you need to do something, this kid can really sing. And I just became known for it. I used to sing at birthdays and weddings, and I just became the girl who could sing. So my parents eventually became undeniable. I was just really talented and just really good at it.
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So even with your parents knowing about your talent and hearing it from people. Did they foster that creativity and support that talent within you?
No, they didn’t. I love my parents; they're amazing people. My mom exposed me to a lot of different things and was very lenient. My dad, on the other hand, was really strict. I think, as immigrants, they don't really know any other way than hard work. They didn't understand the Internet. So even when I went viral, and I told my dad, he didn't really get it. I was like, " Quit your job. I'm famous. And like, I wasn't. But to this day, he thinks that story is so crazy because he's like, "What do you mean?" But he doesn't get it that people can get famous overnight.
Being in Toronto and just the music scene there. How did you find being around the music out there, and what was your experience of it?
I think it was intensely moody. There was a moment when The Weeknd, PARTYNEXTDOOR, Drake, and Daniel Caesar all emerged together. LR&B felt dark and atmospheric, and we set the tone for the rest of the world. Every R&B song you heard traced back to Abel or Drake; that defined Toronto’s sound. We shaped dark R&B, turning it into the movement R&B became. Now, I believe we’ve entered a new era. What I’m creating stands apart—it’s vibrant and original. The city hasn’t seen a woman bring change like this before. I’m genuinely excited; I feel my album will launch something entirely new. After everything I accomplished last year, I know this year will be even bigger. The music is about to take off.
Speaking to your own music and finding what that sound was to you, how did you discover that for yourself?
I think, naturally, being from Toronto, my taste was definitely darker, moodier R&B in the beginning, for sure, but I think now I just want to create my own legacy and start my own stride, you know. And I think “Main Character” was the start of me being like I figured it out, this is what I want to do. And, now I'm entering a new flow state, yeah.
You just put out your new single, “Hall of Fame”. Tell us about the new single and the process of making it?
I was heavily inspired by older pop songs and was searching for the feeling I had when I listened to them as a younger person. And I really wanted something that was also a nod to my city. It was actually the last song I made for this album. When my producer played me the beat, I knew it was the song that the project was missing.
How do you feel this particular single introduces us to what we can expect from the album?
“Hall of Fame” is basically the pre-party for my album. It's like a glimpse into my real life and the outer ego of the world that is Chxrry.
You've spoken about the album, which I know is coming out later this year. How did you find the sound, and what vibe did you want?
I don't want to keep doing the same things, and I don't want any album to sound like the last one. And I always want people to be, like, excited about what I'll do next. I still always want to push the envelope. So even when I dropped “Poppin Out”, that was so different for me. Yeah, and I was so nervous, I was like, oh, it's not slow, it's not dark, like, and I think it felt like me. It felt like the real me, you know, not like, well, this is where I'm from, this is what I'm supposed to sound like. It's what I'm supposed to like. It just felt free. And I think people read that, and I think people were really into that. So just keeping that energy, I just kept that, kept on going with that, even with the new album and everything.
If people have never heard the music before, this is their first taste of your sound. How would you describe this album as not even like an introduction to yourself, as to who Erry is about?
I feel like this album describes me as just brave. I think this album is gonna show them that I want to be more than just a moment. I want to create something timeless. Everything I do. I just want it to mean something. I want it to inspire people. I want to be inspired. And, yeah, I just want to do new shit, like I don't know. I never want people to know what I'm gonna do next. The shit part about the internet is that if something's different and exciting, it always just has to be like, ridiculed so harshly, until it becomes normalised, I guess, and everybody just has like, one brain, and it really sucks. But I know that there's a reward for being different, and I know there's a reward for taking chances and trying to push art,
You just finished opening for Mariah The Scientist on tour, and you played shows internationally, so what was it like to see people respond to your music and just see the different crowds everywhere you went?
It was amazing. I didn't even know this many people knew me, so I'm really excited and blown away every day by the crowds, how much they engage, and how they sing the songs. It makes me want to come back for my own headline tour and do this all over again.
What would you say has been like, the growing moments that you've experienced, even just being on your journey so far?
I think every single day I have, like, Aha, like, moments like, I don't know, like, every day I just feel like things click, more and more. There are so many things I've heard along the way. I'm not really an in-the-moment kind of person. I don't realise things in the moment; I always realise them way after the fact. I tend to miss signs and advice, and I'm someone who learns from experience, so I'm just learning as I go. I think what I'm trying to say is that my learning really happens in reflection, rather than in the moment.
What are you looking forward to, even in the next stage of your journey?
Honestly, just seeing where this music takes me, like, what new opportunities it'll bring, what new places I'll see, being inspired by new people and by new things, like all these things, create the next album and create the next era, and, yeah, life is just it's not really about one moment. It's about like multiple, so that's what I look forward to.
During a recent interview with NandoLeaks, songwriter, producer and singer Omah Lay did not hold back when speaking about, Elmah, the newest artist signed to his record label—Boy Alone. “She’s Insane”, he said.
The Nigerian hitmaker, who launched the imprint as an extension of his creative movement, used the conversation to introduce fans to the rising talent and explain the unconventional personality behind the artist, which drew his attention to her.
Before her connection with Omah Lay, Elmah had quietly built momentum. With her soulful tone and emotionally driven songwriting skills, she made covers and snippets that blend Afrobeats with R&B and alternative influences. Her early single “New Boy In Town” introduced listeners to lyrics born from vulnerability, self-doubt, loneliness and the search for acceptance. It captured the emotional experience of stepping into unfamiliar territory, and it resonated with listeners because it was widely relatable, especially as her delivery feels intimate and honest, which makes it feel like she’s voicing emotions they struggle to articulate, which are qualities that have become defining traits of Afrofusion’s new wave.
Her visibility intensified when she appeared on his latest album “Clarity of Mind”, on the track “Coping Mechanism”
making her the only guest artist on the project, an opportunity that screams confidence in her potential.
This artistic alignment is precisely why their collaboration feels natural, as they operate the same emotional territory that Afrofusion has come to represent: introspection, heartbreak, longing and spiritual reflection wrapped in mellow rhythm. Where Omah Lay leans towards haunting melodies and confessional storytelling, Elmah brings a softer but equally emotive tone. Together, their voices create a complementary dynamic, his textured and aching delivery with her airy, reflective presence.
For Elmah, the moment marks the start of a breakthrough in her career. For Omah Lay, it signals an evolution in his journey, not as an artist but as a curator of a new talent for his imprint. However, if his words are anything to go by, the world would soon understand why he called her “Insane”, a remark that hints at an artist whose creativity, energy and artistry may be as unpredictable as they are compelling and could challenge expectations, therefore making unforgettable impressions.
When you think of Congolese music and its artists roaming the continent, who are the first names that come to mind? Fally Ipupa? Koffi Olomide? Theodora? Tiakola? Well, let me introduce you to Pson, a Congolese artist who feels just like a gift that keeps on giving. Why does he stand out from the crowd, you may ask? While everyone else in the continent sticks to traditional sounds such as Soukous or Rumba, the Zubaboy adds a bit of flair to the mix, making him one of the most exciting acts coming from Congo.
Pson Zubaboy, or Pson in short, is a 30-year-old Congolese artist born in Kalemie, Eastern Congo. Growing up, Pson listened to a lot to the late Congolese legend Papa Wemba and American R&B icon Craig David. He is one of the founding members of Zubaboy Music, a label based in the region. Beginning his music career around 2017 with a few standout singles across the years, it was his debut album, ‘Classik’, in 2025; however, that really brought him to the limelight. For a small-town boy, at first, his sole mission was simply to merge his hometown, Lumumbashi and the capital city of Kinshasa, bridging the gap between a long feud of different ethnics and native languages. As his career grew, so did his interest. He began incorporating sounds from Nigeria, Ghana and Tanzania, whilst choosing to sing in English, Swahili and Lingala.
Congolese people are naturally very formulaic; they stick to what they know and are very good at it. It is all in their avant-garde high-end fashion, best known as La Sape, their distinctive food like Kwanga and Pondu, or perhaps their naturally comedic appeal. Unfortunately, that leaves little room for innovation and evolution, which, for most, is a natural course of time that every genre or culture will inevitably be struck by. But not in Congo! You see, music enthusiasts still swaying some ndombolo steps to Koffi Olomide’s ‘Héros National’ or Fally Ipupa’s ‘Original’ like there’s no tomorrow, and rightfully so. Rumba is a dance music ingrained into Congolese culture, from the movements to the fashion sense, everything becomes like a second skin to the listener, deeply rooted in the cause. For a country that constantly faces persecution, an immense social gap, and general devaluation from all of its neighbours, pride is of great importance. In this case, it almost becomes a tool for survival, a way of life. And although Pson is experimenting, he is undoubtedly cut from the same cloth.
It goes without saying that Pson has a deep respect for traditional Congolese rhythms. Pson isn’t abandoning his musical roots. He fuses contemporary sounds, such as Jersey club and Afrobeats, with key Congolese elements, for example, Congolese popular singing cadence, to amplify them. Now, a whole world that only Congolese people and their diaspora could relate to opens up before an extended young and eager audience. Worlds are colliding, and it urges a cultural dialogue. The result? A sound that feels both familiar and refreshing at the same time. Take ‘Ebele’ for example, one of his biggest singles thus far, adored by anyone who enjoys fast dancing rhythms and a catchy hook.
While perseverance is at the centre of African identity, pushing boundaries can contribute just as much greatness for the cause. Let’s take fashion, for example: although traditional clothing is still practised around the continent, the use of modernity, such as streetwear and online trends, not only is utilized to showcase wealth, but also makes African artists relatable to younger generations within and outside of the continent. Through carefully curated styles and visual aesthetic, it gets to target a larger pool of listeners, who perhaps wouldn’t have clicked on the song then, but now are more curious and willing to participate in a genre that wouldn’t have appealed to them otherwise.
As African music continues to gain international recognition, Pson plays a key role in pushing the movement to the world. In recent years, French Afropop, a diasporic subculture in France, has risen in popularity. As new listeners grow more and more curious about the Francophone African contribution, this also brings eyes to their country of origin, such as the Ivory Coast, Cameroon and Congo, where Pson is based. It is not about just participating in the global arena; it is about reshaping it. By effortlessly blending a Congolese essence with a modern soundscape, Pson is actively contributing to the conversation, making it possible for Africans to stand on the main stage. Although other regions, such as Nigeria and South Africa, have helped shed light on the continent, there’s still a long way to go. And we are confident that Pson Zubaboy is a key player in this phenomenon that is worth watching.
In the midst of the vibrant streets of Kinshasa, the Democratic Republic of Congo, there hides a reality, often met with terror, poverty, and hardship, that finds a way to rise from the ashes. It comes as no surprise that an American genre like Trap music would find a place in this Congolese community, reimagined and authentized into its own Congo Trap movement by local rappers like Kevin, better known as Bogo Thegoat, or Ntaba Ya Kin. The lyrical content and aesthetic both mirror the sound that dominated North America in the past years, but while it may have fallen off across oceans, it is because of Kevin’s storytelling that we choose to pay attention.
Like many young African boys, Kevin began his journey in the studies of Communication. For a long time, society has had everyone believing that the higher the level of education, the better the occupation you may land in the future. However, this concept, brought from the Occident through colonization, dismisses the reality that young Africans often face on the continent, from higher-ups' corruption to monthly payment rates as low as 50 dollars, which is currently the average that Kinshasa’s residents make. This idea that education is elite fails to recognize the lack of infrastructure in many African cities, actively preventing innovation and alternative ways of revenue from taking shape, where young Africans could thrive and keep up with the entrepreneurship of the world.
Kevin is no different to this harsh reality, and after his grandfather’s death, he decided to drop out of school and focus on music solely. In only 3 years, he has managed to garner an audience who not only sees themselves in his lyrics but also can find an escape in his music. Similarly to how Trap music in the US has given young black boys an alternative to the inescapable firm grip of gang violence and poverty, Kevin’s rap influences a generation long scattered and silenced. It obliges authorities to rethink their involvement in destabilizing the population and its chances of aspiring to a better life.
When you ought to try something new, it comes with its setbacks. Although Rap music is a thriving genre in Congo, it is nothing compared to its dominant sounds, such as Rumba or Soukous. Thus, it is up to Kevin’s persistence and ambition to keep this momentum alive. While Bogo Thegoat mostly raps in Lingala, which would target a smaller group than, let’s say, musicians who speak in French or English, his sound is so well-curated that it surpasses language barriers and has been met with millions of views across social media.
When you observe his fashion sense, it screams modernity and in-the-know of what young people, even outside of Congo, currently consume. When you listen to his interviews, he speaks in a sophisticated manner, in which you understand every thought process and what has ultimately brought him to pursue music and his plans for the future. It goes without saying, Kevin is Congolese through and through; he mingles with Trap music and its essence because he thinks more about having a global impact rather than just regionally. Which sets him apart.
In that sense, Kevin is radical in his approach, daring to branch out not only from a society that looks down on freedom of expression but also from a sonic culture that has seen little to no evolution from its Congolese origins. You see, the thing about Congolese people is that they are naturally very patriotic. Congolese music is made for Congolese people, and therefore, they have little interest in urbanisation or even making it more accessible with mixtures of languages or aesthetics, for example. For this reason, the music scene has seen little change, and that’s where Bogo Thegoat comes in. He challenges the status quo, showing how far one can go with just determination and a desire to push their music to the world.
It is hard to predict whether Bogo Thegoat will manage to take his music out of the Congo, or even stay true to his roots once he does. Kevin’s message is pivotal in shedding light on a generation completely set aside and in need of a leading voice, similarly to how Trap music has impacted young people in the States. Unlike what most may think, Kevin’s music doesn’t glorify the hardship of Kinshasa, but unleashes reality in a way that can not be folded away and ignored. We are confident Bogo Thegoat can reignite Trap music, while showing everyone a piece of the world that we often close our eyes to.
There is a specific kind of ambition in placing yourself on top of the world and asking seventy thousand people to watch. On April 1, Ye, the artist formerly known as Kanye West, opened the first of two sold-out nights at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood, California, performing atop a massive rotating globe structure that dominated the stadium floor, shifting between resembling Earth and something far lonelier - what one observer called "a lonely planet of one." It was his first US concert since 2021. It was also, more than anything else, a visual argument.
The set design - the result of a collaboration between Ye and Aus Taylor, with lighting by See You Later and Trask House's John McGuire is the clearest statement of intent the show produced. Taylor, a Baltimore-born filmmaker who has worked alongside Ye since the Donda era, has described his creative philosophy simply stating "Art isn't meant to be understood, it's meant to be felt." In his first-ever interview, published by 032c in 2024, he outlined a career built on deep creative relationships rather than commissions and a refusal to work for money rather than mutual admiration. When credited as the set designer on Instagram following the show, Taylor corrected the framing: "Ye & Aus. I'm just a vessel."
That sense of shared authorship is legible in the production itself. The globe is not a neutral stage prop. It is a deliberate visual language. Ye elevated, solitary, presiding over a structure that contains the whole world and simultaneously reflects his own psychological isolation. He performed in a black mask throughout all the while obscured from the audience even as the crowd responded to his presence. Fog swallowed the stage repeatedly. The backing track frequently overpowered his vocals, making it difficult at times to confirm he was rapping live. None of this felt incidental. It felt like a condition. The terms under which this particular return was being offered.
The production had its rough edges, and Ye did not attempt to hide them. He stopped “Good Life three times to correct his lighting director yelling, "stop doing the vibrating Vegas lights, bro. We went over this in rehearsal." He restarted 'King' and 'This a Must' after mic and sound failures. The famous perfectionism that produced ‘My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy’ was on display not in a flawless show but in the live, visible negotiation between an artist and his own vision. In another context, this would read as chaos. Here, it read as consistency - the same man who delayed ‘Donda’ for months over sound mixing was stopping a 70,000-capacity stadium show because the lights were wrong.
For two hours, Ye moved through his catalogue - Bully cuts giving way to ‘College Dropout’, ‘Graduation’, ‘Watch the Throne’, ‘Yeezus’, ‘The Life of Pablo’ with Don Toliver joining for 'Moon' and 'E85', and North West appearing for their collaboration 'Miss Westie'. The generational range of the crowd was its own kind of testament. Elder millennials mouthing every word of 'Can't Tell Me Nothing' alongside Gen Z fans discovering ‘Bully’ in real time, all of them standing beneath the same rotating globe, all of them watching the same masked figure trace the same lonely orbit at the top of the world.
Ye's comeback is complicated by things that do not disappear simply because the music is good - and the music is good. The catalogue is enormous and undeniable. The Wall Street Journal's apology of January 2026, in which he addressed his antisemitism and his bipolar disorder, was an acknowledgement rather than a resolution. The globe does not solve any of that. What it does is frame it. Aus Taylor's philosophy - that art should be felt rather than understood - is doing real work here, because the clearest thing the SoFi show communicated was not redemption or explanation but a specific visual feeling: a man, a world, a great deal of distance between the two.
That the production occasionally broke down, that the vocals were sometimes swallowed by the fog, that the lights needed correcting three times, none of it disrupted the central image. If anything, it reinforced it. The globe kept turning regardless.
Setlist - Night 1, SoFi Stadium, April 1 2026 King / This a Must / Father / All the Love / Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1 / Can't Tell Me Nothing / N-s in Paris / Mercy / Praise God / Black Skinhead / On Sight / Blood on the Leaves / Carnival / Power / Bound 2 / Say You Will / Heartless / Moon (with Don Toliver) / E85 (Don Toliver) / Miss Westie (with North West) / Good Life / Through the Wire / All Falls Down / Runaway
Confidence is not an unusual virtue in the music industry. Nigerian singer, songwriter and producer, Omah Lay “born Stanley Omah Didia, in Port Harcourt” initially began his career working behind the scenes as a music producer before transitioning fully into recording under his own name. Now that name, has found itself at the center of conversations across the Afrobeats scene following a recent interview with http:NandoLeaks.In. In the interview, where he made a bold statement about his place in the Nigerian music industry.
Omah Lay came into the limelight in 2020 with the release of his debut EP ‘GET LAYD’, which featured songs like ‘Bad Influence’ and ‘You’. The project quickly gained popularity across streaming platforms and introduced listeners to his emotionally driven songwriting style. He has collaborated with several artists within and outside Nigeria, with appearances on projects connected to figures like Davido, Wizkid and the international pop-star artist, Justin Bieber. These collaborations contributed to his reach to an audience beyond the African continent.
“When it comes to the art and making music, I’m the best for the last 20 years”, he said during the interview, a remark that many fans and music commentators interpreted as a confident assertion of his artistic ability. The interview also generated debates after Omah Lay commented on the structure of the Afrobeats industry.
According to him, the genre’s cultural and commercial power is vested in Lagos, which is believed to be Nigeria’s entertainment capital. He went on to suggest that the sound and direction of Afrobeats is shaped historically by the Yoruba cultural influence, a statement that sparked mixed reactions.
As clips from the interview continue to circulate online, reactions remain polarizing. Some commentators interpret the statement as an example of artistic confidence and an honest observation on his part while others question how the claim fits within the broader history of Nigerian music as well as the oversimplification of the diversity of voices that have contributed to Afrobeats evolution.
The conversation arrives at a time when Afrobeats continues to expand globally with artists like Davido, Wizkid and Burna Boy being widely recognized for pushing the genre into the international space in the past decade.
Within this landscape, his comment about being the best artist of the past two decades has drawn comparisons with established figures who built global fan bases and long-standing careers within the industry.
The singer’s remarks have added a new layer to the ongoing conversations about identity, influence and recognition within Afrobeats, a discussion that shows no sign of slowing down. The Afrobeats conversation has once again proven one thing: in music, everyone would have an opinion, but history would decide the legacy.
With his latest release, “CLARITY OF MIND,” now making its way to listeners, the conversation around Omah Lay shows no signs of slowing down. Whether his remarks are seen as confidence or controversy, the conversation reverts to music and whether it lives up to his claim.
(Ig: anuhola_)
Have you ever asked a friend to recommend to you an artist with a velvety, feathery, silvery voice? These were my exact feelings when listening to Nora for the first time. July being the first song listened to; started with an euphoric, crescendoing beat , then followed Nora's velvety voice which fits the song title perfectly.
Chidiebere Felicia Anyiam-Osigwe (also known as Nora) was born on April 26, 2002, in Lagos. Her love for music started forming early, influenced by her parents, even if it didn’t look like something serious yet.
She started singing at the age of 7, and her parents were encouraged in church to support her if this was something she wanted to pursue .
"I started singing in church and it blossomed. Our pastor told my parents: 'If this is the career she wants to take, encourage her. Don't try to make her a lawyer or doctor. Let her do it.' So I was really encouraged. I attended Ayo Bankole College of Music and MUSON."
At 13, her devotion to music became so strong that she was getting bullied for singing too much, “I kind of, uh, but it never really stopped me, you know, I just kind of knew that I was talented to do. Entered a competition, I got to meet ICE , Shout out to ice.”
Her career really started at 17 after she joined the Eko Hotel Tropical Christmas in 2019 .
One of the judges said something very simple “get her into the studio” and that was the starting point for her.
She has collaborated with artists like Tim Lyre for OMD,
Ronehi and Aylø for July ,
and now her single Chidi’s Heartbreak sits as part of where she currently is, still building, still figuring things out in real time.
She’s also learning how to produce, which she actually enjoys, because it lets her connect to her sound in a more personal way, and the interesting thing is her process always starts the same way, with a beat, not pressure, not trying to make something perfect, just a beat, and then she lets it grow from there, almost like she meets the music halfway instead of forcing it.
She talks about her support system in a way that feels very grounded, especially her mum, who is her best friend, her manager, her confidant, and then her siblings, her friends, and her mentor ICE NWEKE, people who are around her not just for the music but for her as a person, which is something she clearly holds onto.
“ First of all, I consider myself extremely lucky with the type of family and friends I have .They see me for who I am and just want the best for me. They were there you know in every performance, every show, especially my mom who is my manager and quite thankfully my best friend. She is my rock. She has been not just there for me emotionally, but also physically. She would cancel things on my behalf just so we could go for a meeting, just so that I could pursue my dreams. You know what I mean? And I’m very grateful for that. And my sister, my brothers, I feel like me saying my family are my biggest fans. The rest of everybody else is just gonna be like, well, I'm here because that's how much love I have.”.
Her inspirations stretch across different sounds and eras, Tems, Sade, Michael Jackson, and ABBA, and when you think about it, that mix makes sense with the kind of softness and control her voice carries.
She also spoke about being nominated for Leading Vibe Initiative founded by Tems, and the way she described it didn’t feel rehearsed, it felt very in the moment,
“Honestly, I sent my application on the day of the deadline, I was at my best friend’s house, I used my phone to record, I wasn’t even thinking too much, I just said let me do it and see what happens, boom I got an email saying I got selected”
and then having Tems acknowledge her voice, that part sits quietly but it means a lot, the kind of validation that doesn’t need too much noise around it.
And through all of this, one thing she keeps coming back to is learning to love herself and accept who she is, which sounds simple but clearly isn’t, especially when you think about the different phases she has moved through in the last six years, growing, adjusting, staying with it.
She also mentioned, almost casually, that she does soprano, and it feels like one of those details you don’t fully sit with until later, because when you think about her tone, her range, the way everything is still forming, it starts to feel like you’re watching something take shape in real time, not rushed, not forced, just becoming what it’s meant to be.
Close your eyes and imagine the bass thumping in a Lagos club. The DJ drops a new track. Within 10 seconds before the lyrics even start, the whole room knows exactly who it is. That specific drum pattern, that choral backup, that particular "vibe” in your mind, you know that’s Asake. But before the song even finishes, someone in the corner is already scrolling through Twitter, typing out the same tired complaint: "He sounds the same. When is he going to give us something different?"
At first glance, that might seem like a fair critique. After all, shouldn’t artists evolve? But the reality is more nuanced. So what’s really going on here? The issue lies in how audiences often misunderstand what artistic growth looks like. There’s an expectation, especially in fast-moving digital spaces, that growth must be obvious, dramatic, and constant. Listeners want reinvention: a new sound, a new persona, a clear shift from what came before. But in practice, that’s not how most great artists evolve.
Take Asake. His music blends modern Afrobeats with traditional Fuji influences, rhythmic chants, and street-inspired flows. He dominated the charts for two years straight. But almost immediately, people started complaining that he was sounding the same. What that criticism missed is how evolution was already happening, just not in the loud, obvious way people expected.
Asake didn’t abandon his core sound, and that’s exactly why it worked. Instead, he refined it. His production became more layered, his vocal control improved, and his songwriting grew more intentional. The chants became tighter, the flows more deliberate, and the overall sound more polished. To a casual listener, it might still feel familiar. But to anyone paying attention, there’s a clear progression. And that’s the point: great artists don’t always evolve by changing direction completely. They evolve by going deeper into what makes them unique.
Now, even rising Nigerian artists like Fola are experiencing early criticism for sticking to a sound and theme despite still being in the process of defining their identity. Right now, he has a particular sound and a certain type of message he leans into, and yes, if you listen to a few of his songs, they might feel similar.
But that’s actually normal. When an artist is just starting, repeating a style isn’t a mistake; it's how they build identity. Think of it like this: if every song sounded completely different, you wouldn’t even know what makes him him. The “same sound” people complain about is often the exact thing helping listeners recognize him.
The same goes for his themes. Many artists, especially early in their careers, talk about similar things like love, hustle, lifestyle, and emotions because that’s what they’re currently connected to. Over time, as their lives change, their music naturally expands. The problem is that people are asking for change too early.
Fola is still in the stage of introducing himself. Expecting him to switch sounds or topics immediately is like asking someone to change their personality before you even understand who they are. Growth in music doesn’t happen overnight. First comes repetition, then mastery, then expansion. So instead of seeing it as “he sounds the same,” it’s more accurate to see it as: he’s still building his foundation.
And it doesn’t stop with emerging artists. Someone like Wizkid, who has spent over a decade shaping the global sound of Afrobeats, still faces similar comments about his newer releases “sounding the same.” From a broader perspective, having a signature sound isn’t a weakness; it’s an advantage. It’s how audiences recognize an artist instantly. It’s what turns a song into a brand. In industries beyond music, consistency is often praised; in music, it’s strangely treated as a flaw.
Even experimentation, when it happens, works best when it’s natural. Rema’s shifts, for example, felt intentional because they stemmed from artistic curiosity rather than external pressure. There’s a difference between evolving and reacting. And for veterans like Wizkid, consistency often reflects mastery. After years of experimenting and influencing the soundscape, what remains is a refined identity, one that doesn’t need to prove itself through drastic change constantly.
The bigger takeaway here goes beyond Nigerian music. Across global music scenes, fans play a powerful role in shaping narratives around artists. But not every familiar sound is a sign of stagnation. Sometimes, it’s a sign that an artist has found their voice and is choosing to develop it rather than abandon it. Because real growth isn’t always loud. It doesn’t always come with a complete rebrand or a sudden shift in direction. Often, it’s quieter, more deliberate, and more sustainable. And sometimes, the best thing you can do for an artist is simple: let what works, breathe.
The truth is simple: if a sound works, it deserves time to breathe. Sometimes, the real artistry lies in going deeper, not wider, which means refining a sound until it becomes timeless. Because in the long run, it’s not constant change that builds careers. It’s clarity, identity, and patience.
Odeal’s sold-out show was another testament to the growth and musicality he has shown as an artist. Whilst most of the music industry was gathered in Manchester for the MOBO Awards, 5,000 people knew the place to be was Brixton’s O2 Academy. There, Odeal brought to life his 2025 EPs The Summer That Saved Me and The Fall That Saved Us.
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As expected, the show was nothing short of an exceptional display of who Odeal is and where he is in his career. No doubt, this era will stand out as a strong moment in his career. The show blended his musicianship, as showcased by his band on stage, with his vocals, which came through amongst the Brixton crowd.
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Opening the show with Free Me, he took the crowd on a journey through his discography, with fans hanging onto every word and flawlessly performed notes. Standout moments on the setlist included “Blame U,” “In The Chair,” “Soh-Soh,” “London Summers”, “Addicted,” "You're Stuck,” and the show closer, “Miami.” The hour-and-a-half set showcased the versatility he brings to his music, fusing rich R&B melodies with Afrobeats. Odeal appeared as the stylish man he is, rocking an all-black outfit, before changing into another outfit and returning to the stage later in the show.
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As hometown shows go, he truly gave homage and thanks to the fans, making it feel like a celebration of one of their own. The crowd's energy was a reminder that there's no place like home and no love like the love from home.
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Already cemented as an artist who has miles to go in terms of where his career is going, it's only from here, and in terms of what show he brings to the stage, we are looking forward to seeing him when he next takes the stage.
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The UK’s music run is far from over. Video game-themed visuals, Jerk-era fashion, British slang and distorted beat productions are just the tip of a virtual iceberg. Ever since 2023, they have dominated youth conversations online, often the ones setting new trends and dictating the next soundscape. An angle that is currently left out of the equation is rising female artists. And how they contribute just as much to this phenomenon that is influencing youth culture on a global scale.
We have selected three starlets we believe are up next and are destined to cause all sorts of ruckus this year. They are talented, they are fresh, and their sounds represent Black British music at the highest calibre.
Meduuulla is a Zimbabwe-born Manchester rapper with the slickest lyrical plays you may find in the Hip-Hop scene right now. She was first introduced to us in The Rap Game UK in 2021. Following a couple of years of absence, Meduuulla released a well-received 2023 EP titled ‘Oblongata’, comforting our ears with jazzy instrumentals and soothing bars. Recently, she debuted her 2025 album, ‘Tabula Rasa’, in collaboration with producer Ethan Hill, proving this is Meduuulla’s world and we’re just roaming in it.
dexter in the newsagent, or dexter in short, is a South London singer-songwriter who had her big breakthrough in ‘dexters phone call’ by Jim Legxacy for his 2025 album ‘Black British Music’. Shortly after, she’s been catapulting in relevance. Her voice is soft, often accompanied by guitar rhythms. Her lyrics cut through one's heart, commemorating words to her late father, a central subject in her music.
Dexter’s universe feels deeply personal, and we’re lucky enough to be granted a glimpse into it. She wears her stories like armour.
Dexter’s 2025 mixtape ‘Time Flies’ was only a taster, and as her music grows, so will her influence.
Sade Olutola
Sade Olutola is a British-Nigerian baby joy that expresses Gen Z emotions in the most fun ways possible through her music. For example, her song ‘2099’ feels apocalyptic with a flair of just straight amusement. Sliding upon electronic productions and a vintage-like sound system, Sade is the perfect teenage heartthrob. Coupled with her Y2K look and ecstatic visuals, she naturally holds all of the elements of a 22-year-old born star in the making.
Although her recent EP ‘Arrow Heart’, a 5-song selection of her greatest output, sent waves in the music sphere, it is still too early to state how her career may blossom for years to come.
What’s so special about today’s listeners is that they don’t care about sticking to the status quo, and as a result, young artists are now freer than ever. Rather than letting a specific genre define them, they encapsulate their own blend of sonic styles, letting their creativity and freedom of expression reinvent themselves. Whether it is in Hip-Hop, folk, or Pop anthems, the female imprint is boundless and travels across sonic grids. Just like their male counterparts, we can’t wait to see they will take this generation next.
A thin line between the thunder of traditional Yoruba percussion and the mesmerizing pulse of South Africa’s log drum, a new sound is finding its footing. Fujipiano, the unlikely marriage between Fuji music and Amapiano sounds, which feels less like a passing experiment and more like a cultural conversation unfolding on the dance floor.
In a region where music is constantly reinventing itself, trying out every and any genre; Fujipiano happens to be the latest reminder that African sound has never been about abandoning its roots. Instead, it is reshaping tradition in a way that it speaks fluently to the present.
Nigerian music is known for reinvention as genres rarely disappear. Instead, they evolve, adapt and find new audiences in unexpected places. Ghanaian gave birth to Afrobeats, street-openers form the fusion of Hip-Hop, Fuji cadence and everyday Nigerian storytelling, and now, another hybrid is slowly carving out its identity; Fujipiano.
At its simplest, Fujipiano is the fusion between Fuji music, which is a widely accepted genre within the Yorubas and the globally popular Amapiano sound that emerged from South Africa. But reducing Fujipiano to a simple genre mashup misses the deeper story behind it. What we are experiencing now is not just a sonic experimentation, but it is a cultural bridge between two generations, a negotiation between heritage and modernity and a reflection of how Nigerian youths are interpreting the sounds they inherited.
To understand why Fujipiano matters, one must first understand the concept of Fuji itself. The genre dates back to the late 1960s through the world of Sir Sikiru Ayinde Barrister of blessed memory, who was widely regarded as the father of Fuji music. Having drawn his inspiration from Islamic devotional songs performed during Ramadan, Barrister transformed traditional chants into a rhythmic, percussion-driven style that resonates across the Yoruba communities quickly.
Fuji was more than entertainment; it was storytelling, social commentary and celebration wrapped in one aspect. In the years that followed, artists like Kind Wasiu Ayinde Marshal and Saheed Osupa expanded the genre’s influence as they started filling halls and street festivals with drums, layered percussion, and call-and-response vocals that somehow turned their audience into participants.
Fuji carried the weight of memory as it echoed through wedding celebrations, Ramadan gatherings and late-night street parties where the music felt inseparable from the community's social life. Yet for years, Fuji seemed to occupy a generational niche as younger generations gravitated towards Afrobeats, hip-hop and other globally oriented sounds, leaving Fuji to be largely associated with the older audience and traditional settings because it belonged to a world that moved at a different pace, one where music was experienced physically, collectively and often locally.
Then Amapiano arrived. Originating in South Africa in the early 2010s, it gradually transformed into one of Africa's most influential musical exports. Amapiano did not just enter in Lagos nightlife; it was absorbed into it. DJs reworked it, producers localized it, and the audience embraced it. During the time of absorption, Fujipiano was brewing quietly, less importantly but more culturally significant.
Fuji started to reappear.
But not in its original form, rather in fragments; in vocal cadences, lyrical patterns and unmistakable rise and fall of Yoruba chants embedded in contemporary production. It surfaced in Asake’s “Peace Be Unto You” and then his “Sunmomi”, after which it was noticed in Seyi Vibez, Fujimoto, which demonstrates that Fuji’s essence can exist within modern and digitized soundscape without losing its identity.
Fujipiano is the next step in that evolution. Or at least, it is trying to be.
At its best, Fujipiano is a meeting point between two rhythmic philosophies that share a surprising comparability as both rely on repetition, build atmosphere through rhythm and create immersive listening experiences that are more about feeling than they are about sound. But comparability does not guarantee cohesion. And this is where Fujipiano reveals its promise and limitations as a genre.
Presently, much of what is labeled as Fujipiano feels incomplete; it feels more like an aesthetic overlay than a fully realized genre. Amapiano beats feel like it carries the Fuji’s vocals. And street-pop structure borrows Fuji inflexions. The elements coexist, but they do not always integrate. Which raises an uncomfortable but necessary question: is this evolution, or is it appropriation of form without depth?
The distinction matters because cultural evolution requires more than proximity; it requires intention. It demands that artists do more than just reference tradition; it requires that they engage with it, understand it and reshape it in ways that preserve its essence while allowing it to grow. Without the depth, fusion risks becoming surface-level, something that looks like culture without fully carrying it, more like a caricature.
To dismiss Fujipiano entirely would be equally shortsighted. What it represents, even in its unfinished state, is still significant. It symbolizes that a generation raised in a hyper-globalized world is not entirely detached from its roots and culture. Instead, it is negotiating with them, translating and reframing them within the contexts of its own experiences.
This is not unique to the sound, but participating artists do it with no particular intensity. Its music has always thrived on collisions of genres, influence and histories. From Afrobeat’s fusion of jazz and Yoruba rhythms to Afrobeat’s fusion of dancehall, pop and hip-hop, the country’s most defining sounds have emerged not from purity but from hybridity.
Fujipiano fits within that lineage, but it also exposes a tension that feels distinctly contemporary, the balance between reinvention and preservation. For the older generation, Fuji represents continuity and a direct line to cultural memory. For the younger generation of listeners, it feels distant, tied to contexts and spaces that no longer define the everyday lives of people. However, Fujipiano tends to bridge the gap, but by doing so, it inevitably transforms what it touches. The question at hand now is whether that transformation deepens the culture or dilutes it.
There is no easy answer, but it is clear that Fujipiano reflects a broader truth on modern identity as it is layered, fluid and constantly in negotiation. Today, a young artist can move seamlessly between local and global influence, between tradition and trend, between heritage and innovation. Their music must reflect complexity. Fujipiano, in this sense, is less about sound and more about self-definition. It is what happens when a generation refuses to choose where it comes from and where it is going.
Whether it becomes a fully realized genre or it fades into the background of Migeria’s ever-evolving music scene is almost beside the point. Its existence alone reveals something essential; culture is not preserved by keeping it unchanged. Its existence alone survives by allowing it to be reimagined. But reimagination comes with responsibility. If Fujipiano is to become more than a passing moment, it is expected to move beyond experimentation and into intention. It must find a way to carry the depth of Fuji, not just its aesthetic, into new soundscapes. Until then, it remains what it has always been: Not a genre. Not a movement. Not yet. But a question, which perhaps is its most honest form.
Because in a world where culture is constantly sampled, remixed and redistributed at speed, the real challenge is not about creating something new, it is about ensuring that in the process of reinventing, nothing essential is lost.
IG: anuhola_
Close your eyes, and it’s 2005. The air in the club is thick, and the opening harmonies of Styl-Plus’s ‘Olufunmi’ glide through the speakers. For a moment, it wasn’t just about the voice of one man. It was about the synchronized magic of three distinct voices creating harmonies that capture true love. From the R&B smoothness of Styl-Plus to the infectious energy of P-Square, the early 2000s belonged to the collective.
But walk into a studio in Lagos today, and the room is built for one act. The "tribe" has been traded for the "titan". While Afrobeats conquers the world, it is doing so with solo superstars at the centre, which normally includes Wizkid, Rema, Tems, Burna Boy, and Davido. Boy bands are no longer just rare; they are functionally extinct. This is a structural weakening of the genre’s soul, not merely a shift in style.
To understand what we have lost, we need to start from the beginning. Long before the polished R&B of the 2000s, there was The Remedies. Formed in 1997, Eedris Abdulkareem, Tony Tetuila, and Tony Montana were among the first to "Nigerianize" Hip-Hop, taking American beats and layering them with Yoruba slang.
When their hit ‘Sakomo’ dropped, it wasn't just a song; it changed things. It proved that young Nigerians didn't have to sound like American rappers to be relevant. They were the engine of Kennis Music, the label that effectively built the modern industry. But their story also provided the first blueprint for the “Band Curse”. Their success was massive, yet their split was equally monumental and messy. The moment they went solo, the industry learned that three individual paychecks were more profitable for labels than one.
Emerging from Enugu were the Plantashun Boiz, made up of 2Face (now 2Baba), Blackface, and Faze. They didn't just sing; they lived together, forging a brotherhood that felt like a family. Their success was built on tracks like ‘Knock Me Off’, which proved that Nigerian boys could deliver international-standard vocals. According to Pulse Africa, their debut album ‘Body and Soul’ released in 2000, supposedly sold over 600,000 physical copies. Their dominance earned them numerous accolades just before their split. 2Face’s rise post-split became the dangerous precedent that haunted every group thereafter, proving a solo career could lead you to be a legend.
Another band was Styl-Plus; they brought elegance to the scene. Their debut album, ‘Expressions’ was a masterclass in vocal arrangement. Their emotional love songs, especially ‘Olufunmi’, made them one of the most recognizable voices in Nigerian R&B at the time. Their music was played at weddings, parties, and on radio stations across the country. Their impact was undeniable, sweeping the Channel O Music Video Awards and multiple award nominations at The Headies. Although they didn't break up with a bang, they faded into the background as the industry moved toward solo acts.
Another band from Enugu was Bracket, with ‘Yori Yori’ in 2009; they became the face of ‘Soft Afrobeats’. Their success was validated when they won Artistes of the Year at the 2012 Headies Award and two NET Awards nominations. Their success showed that sweetness and melody could win, but they were eventually pushed to the background. While they never had a messy breakup, they struggled as the industry changed.
P-Square was the only act that truly challenged solo dominance. Peter and Paul Okoye were a bloodline, turning music into a visual spectacle. They were the highest-paid act in Africa for a decade, winning a total of nine Headies and the MTV Africa Music Award (MAMA) for Group of the Year in 2008, 2009 and 2010. However, their public fallout was the final nail in the coffin. If even identical twins couldn't navigate the pressures of shared money and individual egos, the industry decided the collective model was simply too high-maintenance.
P-Square’s success showed that duos still had a place in Afrobeats. But it also marked one of the last moments where that band format felt central to the industry. Because after that, things began to change.
We can say one of the major reasons boy bands and duos struggle to last is creative disagreement. When more than one artist shares the same platform, they must constantly agree on important decisions. This includes the direction of their music and how they want their careers to grow. Over time, these decisions can lead to tension.
For example, problems within Plantashun Boiz eventually led to the group breaking apart. Each member later pursued a solo career. Something similar happened with P-Square. Even though they were extremely successful, disagreements between the brothers eventually led to their separation.
When these kinds of breakups happen, it reinforces the idea that working alone may be easier.
Money has also been a major factor in the decline of boy bands and duos. In a band or duo, income from concerts, endorsements, and music sales has to be shared between multiple members. As success grows, disagreements about money can become more common. In the early 2000s, physical CD sales and live bookings were the primary revenue streams. Today, the industry is fueled by Streaming Revenue, and the math simply doesn't favor boy bands. For example, on a solo track, the artist takes the entire "artist share" of a stream (roughly $0.003 to $0.005 per play). In a trio like Plantashun Boiz, that fraction of a cent is split three ways before it even reaches their personal bank accounts. This means a group has to work three times as hard to achieve the same individual "take-home" pay as a solo act.
Also, you might think this format works in K-POP, so why is it not thriving in Afrobeats? Groups like BTS or EXO are not accidents. They are built through structured systems, training, management, branding, and long-term planning.
Afrobeats doesn’t have that system.
It is more organic; although that freedom is part of its strength, it also makes it harder to sustain groups. K-pop builds groups from the ground up. Afrobeats lets artists build themselves.
The structure of the Afrobeats industry has also changed.
Today, the industry is built around the idea of a solo star. Artists are not just musicians anymore. They are brands. Artists like Wizkid, Burna Boy, and Rema have built global careers based on their individual identities. Their music, fashion, and personality all contribute to how they are marketed.
In boy bands or duos, attention has to be shared. This makes it harder for one person to fully dominate the spotlight. As Afrobeats expanded globally, the solo artist model became easier to promote.
Interestingly, while permanent boy bands and duos have become rare, collaboration is now more common than ever.
Instead of forming long-term partnerships, artists now work together on individual songs or even short joint runs that feel like temporary duos. We are also seeing more joint moments and creative pairings that go beyond just one song. Artists link up for multiple tracks, shared sounds, or even short project runs that feel like mini partnerships. Think of the synergy between Wizkid and Asake; creatively, this partnership works because it pairs two fully realized distinct voices. A group requires a "merged identity"; the voices must blend into a singular brand. But in ‘Real’, the power lies in the friction of two separate solo artists. They aren't trying to sound like one unit; they are two kings sharing an EP for ten minutes.
These collaborations give artists the best parts of a duo or group's creative exchange without the long-term pressure that usually comes with staying together.
In today’s Afrobeats, artists don’t need to form boy bands or duos anymore. They can simply recreate that experience when they want, and walk away when they’re done.
So, if you’re waiting for the next P-Square or Styl-Plus to walk through the door, don't hold your breath. Under the current regime of Afrobeats, the "group" as we know it is a dead model. It has been replaced by collaborations that offer the variety of a group without the commitment of a marriage.
For boy bands to actually return, the industry requires more than just "new talent"; it requires a structural change. We need labels to start investing in group development and not just individuals. Fans must also move away from main character worship, where they pick a favorite and pit them against the others. Until then, the system will keep producing solo stars.
What comes next depends on whether Afrobeats is willing to build a system that allows it to happen again.
Because the truth is simple, boy bands and duos didn’t stop working. The industry stopped working for them.
IG- @justcallmetobii
The international reach of Afrobeats is undeniable. Over the last five years, the likes of Rema, Tems, and Ayra Starr have become household names, marking the ushering in of a new guard. Even with its global expansion, Afrobeats has mostly appealed to Africans and their diaspora, only slowly making its way to the Caribbean and the Western world.
Through social media and the genre’s continued growth, its music and its artists have now reached the East, where new life has been breathed into the music, the events, and the sound - offering a surge of stardom that’s ripe for the taking.
First coined in the 1970’s, Fela Kuti and drummer Tony Allen’s original ‘Afrobeat’ sound took highlife tunes, American jazz, funk, and traditional Yoruba music and merged them into what became a score for many protests against corruption and human rights abuse. As the years went on Kuti’s band maintained the sound as new artists created different fusions.
Upon Kuti’s death in 1997, Afrobeats—with the s, a genre more synonymous with Nigerian Pop— was planted in the 2000s, only sprouting and blossoming into what we now know in the 2010s. With young artists mixing original sounds with global hip hop, R&B, and dancehall in shorter, studio-produced beats, the use of digital technology brought connections around the world. It’s these same techniques that have led to expansion today, as well as the new flavours of Asian influence.
Today’s sounds, though distinct, have changed from Kuti’s smoother fusion. Kuti’s original mixes were featured in legendary Chinese rockstar Wu Bai’s 2016 album Ding Zi Hua (《钉子花》), making him the first mainstream Chinese artist to use the sounds overtly. As the pop and rap scenes have grown across the continent, Bai’s ingenuity spread to wider Asia, alongside the solidification of Asia’s own rap and hip-hop sounds.
While the pop phenomenon is no stranger to Asia. Afrobeats, Hip-hop, and Rap symbolise a different shift in the culture's taste and, perhaps, its acceptance of outside norms. The current industries, while somewhat established, are still new to Western influence, as major record labels like Def Jam Records have begun to expand their reach globally. African labels, like Sony Music Africa (South Africa), Universal Music Africa, and other independent artists and collectives, like the Hong Kong-based AfroSeas, have made headway on the continent as well, signifying the noticeable gap.
Like Afrobeat, much of the Rap and Hip-hop throughout Asian countries has lent itself to political commentary and national unity amongst the youth in the continent, advocating against gender inequality, corruption, and more. In the same ethos, the combination of Afrobeats unique sounds and the current identity of Asian hip-hop music play off each other - creating an understanding that’s building its home in the Asian market.
Since 2020, Indonesia, India, the Philippines, and Thailand have seen the highest growth in Afrobeats listening, according to Spotify.
Afrobeats Asia, a Bali-based Afrobeats and Amapiano event planner, organises and promotes weekly events across South East Asia, welcoming artists and DJs from Nigeria, South Africa, France and more. Accelerating the engagement and societal investment in the genre’s rise.
Similarly, AfroDesi is a movement centred around Amapiano, Afrobeats, and Bollywood rhythms performed by South Asian and South East Asian artists and DJ’s, on the continent and in major metropolitan cities like London - welcoming a new demographic and its sounds to the conversation.
South Eastern and Eastern nations have also leveraged the trend bringing Chrisway, Salin in Thailand, Filipino J-Tajor, Sudanese-Japanese group Makki, and Singapore’s Yung Raja to the stage, domestically and worldwide.
And while the youth’s wish has been the industry’s command, an element of exploitation and cultural appropriation could be noted in the nature of the genre’s sudden and exponential acceptance. In a continent where racism and colourism hold deep roots, capitalising on the rise of Afrobeats should not be misunderstood as an acceptance of its artists, culture, or core beliefs. Basic business principles, like supply and demand, have often been the core of strategic moves that appear inclusive and multicultural, while lacking any true reverence for the craft or its creators.
In another light, in Asia and abroad, social media has exposed Africa and its music to artists, events, media, and style in keeping with the global connectivity made possible through increased exposure, media networking, and rich diasporic communities in the Western world. The opportunity for representation and new narratives is the core of the movement for some, as well as the prelude to many deeper societal investigations - domestically and abroad..
Where mainstream Asian media in the West has often featured one facet of the continent’s creative, professional, or even fashion profiles, new wave artists throughout the nations offer multilingual and multicultural, social commentary that have created ties to the original Afrobeat movement, capitalised on the current trend, and created a global symbiosis through sound.
Just enough to, perhaps, add Asia to Afrobeats shining crown.
Cover Credit: @themesabali on Instagram
IG: clungaho
When you think of French black music? What are the first songs to come to mind? ‘Premier Gaou’? Maybe ‘Papaouti’? Surely, there must be more classics you have heard about… No, in actuality, that is a very realistic first experience for many Anglophone music listeners outside of the French world. That said, there are several noteworthy artists yet to discover, and an entire beaming world of sounds for those who dare. At the forefront? We have selected 5 key artists who we wholeheartedly believe, if not their names already ingrained, will be the bridge that transcends languages, continents and sonic landscapes.
Tayc
Julien Franck Bouadjie Kamgang, better known to the music world as Tayc is a 29-year-old French Afropop / R&B artist of Cameroonian roots. As one of his most famous lyrics declares, “They will tell you that Tayc only talks about love,” not that it is far from the truth; however, there is more to the harmonizing singer than meets the eye. Take ‘Carry Me’ for example, and you will find that Tayc is a multilingual genius. Singles such as ‘Love Me’ and ‘Forévà’ show how truly versatile he is, ranging from topics about love, heartbreak, to loss and grief.
Dadju
It would be impossible to mention Tayc without his birthday twin–the prince of France, French-Congolese singer Dadju. They are truly two sides of the same coin, although Gims’ half-brother makes truth to his married-family man status and appears less Playboy-ish than his ‘Héritage’ collaborator. Let’s revisit one of his breakout hits, ‘Jaloux’, for example, it’s the epiphany of the good guy done wrong. Dadju doesn’t challenge himself in music; he sticks to what he knows.
And perhaps that could best explain his longevity in the game, but also, how he manages to never be dethroned.
Damso
There are a lot of words that could best describe Belgian-Congolese rapper-singer Damso, one of which is eccentric. Another would be sombre, melancholic, unafraid to speak of his deep flaws. And perhaps that is why black men from the French diaspora relate to him most; Damso exposes the ugly in man and turns it into something beautiful. Darkness never leaves him, even in his song ‘Limbisa ngai’, where he makes use of his rap lyricism to glide on an Afro-rhythmic instrumental. On the other hand, ‘Pa Pa Paw’ is a testimony of a true versatile talent, showing us his singing side, which almost acts like the other half of his personality.
Tiakola
Our first French cover star and French-Congolese mélo rapper, Tiakola is a name that keeps echoing to the masses as time flies. If our exclusive interview with the boy did not persuade you to add him to your rotation, we don’t know what else would. Tiakola naturally has all the elements of a star, and his charisma, coupled with his talent, makes him a natural component of the music world. Songs such as ‘Meuda’ and ‘BADMAN GANGSTA’ are an immediate click whenever they cross our playlist.
Stromae
You didn’t really think we would make up a list without the Belgian artist Stromae, did you? Despite what the recent surge of AI-generated versions of ‘Papaoutai’ may make you think, the singer-producer has one of the most solid music catalogues in the Francophone sphere of all time. Previously introduced to us as the party anthem ‘Alors en Danse’ in a distant past, Maestro is an artist of layers both lyrically and sonically. It would be very hard to pin him to a genre; Stromae pretty much does what he pleases.
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Tiakola: No Borders, No Limits
Everything You Need to Know About the New French Music Sub-Genre Mélomane
Breaking Boundaries: Dadju and Tayc's Héritage Album: Bridging Francophone and Anglophone Markets with Diverse Genres
Tucked away in Pasadena is a retreat that feels completely disconnected from the city’s high-speed energy. Behind the gates of a massive modern estate, the Hollywood noise trades off for the stillness of a lush, green hideaway. We took full advantage of the beautiful garden location; the hidden trees and secluded corners felt like a genuine oasis. The architecture is sharp, the vibe is serene, and the atmosphere feels effortlessly tropical. This isn't just a high-end backdrop; it’s a reflection of the man himself. During the shoot, Armanii was locked in, showing a level of creative involvement that most artists find years into their careers. He moved with a quiet yet humble confidence, clearly understanding his angles and exactly what he liked. At times, he even gently guided the photographer to the specific perspectives that looked the best, never losing that grounded spirit. He genuinely loved the moodiness of the space and the touches of elegance that defined the day.
The Kingston native has already moved past the "rising star" label, backed by a massive 107 million global streams and a debut album, THE IMPACT, that’s currently shaking up the Billboard charts. He moves with a calculated calm, like someone who knows that when you’re really holding the power, you don’t have to shout to be heard.
The Evolution of the Sound
For anyone who only knows him for the high-energy grit of his early singles like "HAAD (Fiesta)" or "POUNDS," THE IMPACT is a total pivot. It’s a 15-track journey released via UnitedMasters that chooses soul over hype, mixing the heavy heartbeat of Reggae with the smooth, late-night textures of R&B. This is music as an experience something that sticks with you long after the track ends. The moodiness of the album mirrors the sleek, minimal aesthetic of our Pasadena set; there’s a balance here that keeps everything grounded.
As the legend Bob Marley once said:
"Music is the instrument of unity... The people must come together, and music is the way."
Armanii’s new sound lives in that space of unity. He’s bridging the gap between the raw, street-level stories of Kingston and the polished, global appeal of modern soul. Talking about this shift, he was real about where his head is at:
"I feel like R&B inspires my music 75% because I listen to the Summer Walkers, the Giveons, the Drakes, the SZAs... that sound gravitates towards me more. You can hear it whether it's a sample or a beat it just has that R&B feel to it."
This melodic evolution shows a level of vulnerability that’s rare. While his look leans into the high-fashion luxury of Balenciaga, Gucci, and Louis Vuitton, his core is still anchored in the honest stories of his life.
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A Superpower Rooted in Reality
Armanii’s mission is all about a universal connection. He doesn't see his Jamaican heritage as just a style; it’s his core, the thing that lets him slide into any genre and still sound authentic.
"Using my roots, and then also getting a beat from somewhere like New York and having Jamaican lyrics on it is perfect... staying true to just who I am as a Jamaican is my superpower."
Even with the global wins like being named Billboard’s Rookie of the Month this February and taking home the Dancehall Impact Award at the 2025 Caribbean Music Awards Armanii stays incredibly tapped in. He speaks on the "default Jamaican story" the path from the ghetto to the global stage with a clarity that hits different. That reality is the anchor that makes his music feel like a real conversation instead of just a performance. He’s been there, he’s seen it, and he’s representing a community that sees their own potential in his wins.
Vision and Community
The title of his album, THE IMPACT, wasn't an accident. He wanted a word that held weight without needing extra hype. His vision goes way beyond the numbers; it’s about building a bridge for the next generation of Kingston artists, proving you can go global without losing your soul.
"Choosing the tracks was the hardest part... I made sure I picked something where people would go, 'Okay, wow. Okay, Armanii,' instead of just what they’re used to hearing from me. I wanted to show that versatility."
The Final Word
Watching the light fade over the trees in Pasadena, it's easy to see that Armanii isn't just playing the game he’s genuinely changing how it’s done. By mixing that raw Kingston grit with a smoother, R&B-heavy vibe, he’s created a space for everyone who wants music that actually means something. He is that essential link between the legends we grew up on and the high-fashion, high-speed future of the Caribbean sound.
With a four-city Canadian tour coming up in May 2026 and the rest of the world finally catching his drift, this moment feels less like he’s reached the top and more like he’s just getting started on shifting the culture. In an era where everything is a 15-second clip, Armanii is focused on the long game. THE IMPACT is more than a title; it’s the only way to describe the wake he’s leaving behind.
Keep an eye out the Armanii era has officially moved in.
Credits
Publication: Deeds Magazine @deedsmagazine
Talent: Armanii @armaniimusiq
Photographer/Producer: Pablo Flores Perez @shootervisualz
Lighting Director: Rudolf Bekker @rudolfbekker
1st Photo Assist: Denver Nelson @denvernelson_
Prod. Assistant: Carrington Smith @directorcarrington
Prod. Designer: Steve Ashby @steveflaneurs
Creative Director: Miguel Garcia @miguelhbz
Art Director: Victor Holt @vicknows_
Cover Design: Shalem Alone @Shalemalone
Fashion Director: Gloria Johnson @Styledbyglo_2
Stylist: Amiah Joy @amiah.joy
Styling Assistant: Micheal Washington @9.to.5
Interviewer: Debra Orols @debraorols
Marketing: Nadyahtaj @Nadyahtaj
Distribution: @unitedmasters
Location Rep: Andy Ta
Ayra Starr recently dropped a new song, ‘Where Do We Go?’, that speaks to the confusion that comes with an undefined love. Unlike her usual Afropop sound, the track is submerged with electronic undertones, a new sonic direction that hints at a new era for the pop star. Some welcomed ‘Where Do We Go?’ with anticipation for how this sonic direction would unfold in her upcoming projects; a majority were consumed with something else entirely: her outfit. The Grammy nominee dons a mini black sequined dress paired with purple tights in the visualizer and the song cover art. This style has since angered many fans, who are now not so quietly questioning the direction of her career.
This reaction has long been brewing. Ayra’s fanbase began criticizing her style since the yellow and black cape and peplum three-piece from Luar she wore for a performance in Ghana. Most reactions that followed that look were a mix of displeasure or concern, and sometimes both. As with most fandoms, Ayra’s fanbase turned their criticisms towards the person behind the change, her new stylist, Elly Karamoh.
Karamoh, who only began working with Ayra a few months ago, has so far leaned into a more opulent, high-glam direction with playful twists. Fur, structured pieces, and heavier styling choices take center stage with occasional pulls from 2010s trends; think peplums and pumps. In many ways, his interpretation of Ayra’s image feels bolder in contrast to the look Ayra had been known for.
This change has not landed well for fans. Among hundreds of comments, the most echoed has been that Ayra looks older. For an artist whose style repertoire has been placed at the center of Gen Z fashion, and curated a following from this base, fur coats and peplums, to some fans, felt prematurely aged and out of place for her image as an African pop star.
This displeasure feels familiar. It’s the same reaction that reverberates when teen stars transition into adulthood and move away from the image that made them popular. Culturally, as Ayra is one of the newest teen-to-adult star transitions Nigeria has witnessed, the reaction may be subconscious; still, it mirrors the same patterns of scrutiny young female stars elsewhere have long faced.
Fans nonetheless express their thoughts as concern for her pop star status. Some worry she will lose her pop star appeal with this new style change, while others interpret the new look as a lack of direction.
But with the changes in Ayra’s personal life, her style choices like wearing fur feels natural. The artist recently moved to New York, and in a Substack post from December, she briefly reflected on the city’s climate and how it has influenced her mood. While she didn’t directly link this to her style, she included a photo of herself in fur. In the “Where Do We Go?” visualizer, she is also framed against skyscrapers, a setting that mirrors her current surroundings and also subtly positions her within a more American landscape.
It's unclear whether this style is simply personal or signalling a new era. One thing is certain: ‘Where Do We Go’ is sonically different, and speculations that she’s trying her hand at American pop have followed. When viewed through this lens, her recent looks make sense.
Still, fans' attachment to Ayra’s earlier image remains strong. Early visual framing of her identity through style, cover art, and music videos has set a precedent for how they read her as an artist. This type of fan attachment is often a result of great branding and building eras. Thanks to the modern pop economy, rollouts are elaborate and tease hidden meanings. Now audiences have been conditioned to read styling, hair, and overall presentation as a signal of what the music might sound or feel like. So when the visual language changes, it can create uncertainty around the music itself for some.
Within that context, the reaction to Ayra Starr’s evolving style begins to make more sense. To understand why this shift feels so jarring to fans, it helps to look at how Ayra Starr’s image was first constructed and how closely it became tied to her sound.
Ayra Starr was introduced to audiences in 2021 through her self-title EP, which wasn’t much of an era in the grand pop sense as it was an introduction phase and a testing ground. The sound was fun and fierce, and that, in conjunction with colorful graphic liner, playful makeup, and cropped shirts, positioned Ayra as the girl next door. Even without a defined era, this first introduction set her up as a girl’s pop star, and that image continued.
Much of that image was later sharpened under the direction of stylist Pat Ada Eze, whose approach to fashion was rooted in reflecting the core audience. “To truly be a star and inspire that level of adoration, you need to excite people, and one of the best ways to do that is through fashion,” she explained in an interview.
With 19 & Dangerous, the girl-next-door image was “baddified”: soft and youthful, but sharper and more self-assured. Through elements like graphic liners, cropped silhouettes, and Y2K references, Ayra sat at the intersection of trendy and alternative, becoming both reflective of and influential within her audience. Mini skirts, cropped shirts, and high boots became the Ayra look, a familiar image that audiences grew attached to. Through color, textures, or overall styling, there was always a thread of softness and youthfulness tying it all together as she experimented across different releases.
But outside of the machinery of branding and rollout strategies, Ayra’s style has never been a fixed image entirely dictated by her sound. She has said in interviews that she dresses for fun, moving between looks and refusing to be boxed into one version of herself.
So while her previous style has become iconic, it was also distinctly tied to Nigerian youth culture, rooted in a Gen Z-coded style that shaped how audiences first understood her. There is, however, another layer to this reaction—one that doesn’t apply equally across pop
The misogyny of it all
When male artists experiment with their image, the conversation rarely extends to their music in the same way. Criticisms of male artists’ styles are rarely tied to how their music is received.
For example, Rema’s backpack, high tops, and wife-beater combo in the 'FUN' video was critiqued for looking Black-American, with some arguing saying it didn’t fit with his act as an Afrobeats artist. Despite the backlash, the criticism of his clothes barely crossed into how people perceived the music itself or whether they would listen to it.
Asake, in the last few months, has appeared with a different look almost every market day, to the point where constant transformation has become part of his identity. The office shirts and pixie cut hair, among many other looks, have at best earned him praise for his nonconformity and at worst been ridiculed, but not once was his artistry questioned. Meanwhile, each outfit change from Ayra Starr feels, to some fans, like a test of her loyalty to the image they first embraced.
Women in pop are judged more harshly for stylistic changes because their image is often treated as their primary currency, while male artists are still allowed to center their music and persona first. In other words, male artists can have style without being defined by it, while female artists are often defined by their style, whether they want to be or not. You can see this in the early conversations around Tems.
When Tems first arrived on the scene, she played into the Billie Eilish handbook of purposefully wearing oversized shirts and baggy bottoms to avoid being objectified and taking attention from her voice. Still, her body would remain a point of discussion almost as much as her voice. And when she eventually moved away from baggy clothes to the soul singer look, that too became another talking point.
Even when they aren’t seeking attention for their image, female artists often find that their appearance becomes inseparable from the way their music is interpreted.
As Ayra steps into what may be a new era, the question becomes less about whether the image works and more about how much weight fans allow it to carry. In this age where branding is central to a pop star's image, can we judge the merit of their sound outside of the fashion style they present with it? ‘Where Do We Go’ is a chance to engage with Ayra’s art as she chooses to present it, understanding that her image functions as supplementary context or a continuation of the narratives within her music rather than the full picture itself.
@radgalrabi
There’s a particular kind of magic that happens when Afrobeats enter a room.
Picture a club somewhere in East London, 2019. The DJ has been playing the usual — UK drill, some R&B, and the occasional throwback. Then, without announcement, the opening notes of Burna Boy's “Ye” drop into the air. And something shifts. The crowd — Nigerian, British, second-generation everything — starts to move differently. There's a recognition that passes through the room like electricity. By the time Wizkid's “Soco” follows, it’s no longer a matter of who knows the words. Everyone moves.
That feeling of universal arrival is what Afrobeats achieved. It won hearts all over the globe musically, culturally, diplomatically and even commercially. It walked into rooms that had never made space for African sound and made itself at home. Afrobeats won, convincingly, and on its own terms, too.
But the thing about a sound that conquers the world is that it tends to conquer the story too.
The Coronation
Afrobeats didn’t just break through — it reached a magnificent level of global success that is impossible to ignore.
In 2021, Wizkid's “Essence” — a song recorded in Lagos, sung partly in Yoruba, and built on a distinctly West African beat- became a global phenomenon. It peaked at number nine on the Billboard Hot 100. It went platinum in multiple countries and made Tems a household name overnight. A year later, Burna Boy became the first African artist to headline Madison Square Garden — and sold it out. In 2023, Afrobeats became an official Grammy category. The continent not only arrived, but it also restructured the room and expanded the conversation.
Afrobeats won for several interconnected reasons. The African diaspora — millions of Nigerians, Ghanaians, and other Africans living across the UK, US, and Europe — created a ready-made global audience that already knew the music and carried it into new spaces. The sound itself is architecturally brilliant for export: rhythmic, danceable, and melodically accessible across language barriers.
It doesn’t demand cultural fluency to enjoy; it invites people in through the body first. TikTok's algorithm also rewards sounds that make people move, and combining this with the influence of major label partnerships – that gave artists like Davido and Wizkid global distribution — Afrobeats success was almost inevitable.
This is Afrobeats' genius. It is the most exportable version of African music ever produced. It is clean, danceable, streaming-ready, and culturally resonant without being culturally exclusive.
The problem is not the victory, but what the victory has come to mean.
Somewhere between Burna Boy’s Grammy speech and Tems performing at the Super Bowl halftime show, "African music" quietly became a synonym for “Afrobeats.” It was not in every room and with every listener — but it was enough. Enough that when a Western journalist writes about African music, they mean Afrobeats. Enough that when a global playlist is labelled "African," it is overwhelmingly Afrobeats. Enough that artists making music on the same continent, in the same cities, sometimes in the same studios — but not in that particular sound — find themselves outside the frame of what counts as African music.
A continent of 54 countries, over 2,000 languages, and more distinct ethnic groups than most of the world combined, has been handed a single genre as its cultural passport. The result of this is that a lot of other very African sounds get left at the border for not being Afrobeats.
The Sounds & Culture Left Behind
Alté:
Alté (pronounced ul-tey, reclaimed by Nigerian youth culture to mean something "alternative" or "other") emerged from Lagos in the mid-2010s as a direct response to the dominance of mainstream Afrobeats. This is not simply a music genre; it is an attitude. It is a culture built on deliberately rejecting conventional expectations. Where Afrobeats is polished and globally legible, Alté is deliberately messy, genre-fluid, and stubbornly local. It pulls from jazz, soul, psychedelia, funk, and traditional Yoruba sound. It drapes itself in thrift-store fashion, speaks in code-switched Pidgin and English, and refuses the kind of streamlined production that makes a song easy to market internationally.
Artists like Cruel Santino, Odunsi The Engine, and Lady Donli built this world almost entirely outside the mainstream industry's attention. Cruel Santino's 2019 project Mandy & The Jungle is perhaps the defining Alté document: a swirling, maximalist, deeply personal record that sounded like nothing else coming out of Lagos at the time. Not only did it receive critical acclaim, but it also did not chart globally. But that gap — between artistic achievement and commercial visibility — is precisely what Alté is.
What makes Alté significant is not just the sound. It is what the sound represents. In a country where success is often defined by how much money you make and how mainstream your taste is, Alté carves out a different definition of cool. ‘Cool’ here is rooted in self-expression, fluidity, and a rejection of the idea that African music must translate easily to be valid. The Alté community listens differently, dresses differently, thinks differently, and occupies public space differently. It is a subculture in the fullest sense — and it has been almost entirely invisible to the global gaze that has been fixed so intently on Afrobeats.
Amapiano
Amapiano is Afrobeats' closest rival for global attention, and its story reveals a different kind of erasure.
Born in the townships of South Africa — particularly in Pretoria and Johannesburg — sometime around 2012, Amapiano is built around a distinctive log drum pattern, soulful piano melodies, and a tempo that is slower and more hypnotic than Afrobeats. It is the sound of South African township life, of Sunday afternoons and late nights, of a specific joy that is inseparable from a specific geography and a specific history.
By 2022, it had gone global. Amapiano-influenced tracks were appearing on UK charts. International DJs were also incorporating its elements. The log drum — the calling card of underground South African parties — was showing up in pop productions worldwide. In 2023, Shallipopi's “Cast” brought Amapiano into Nigerian street culture, and the fusion was infectious.
But the world largely received the rhythm. It vibed with the log drum and the danceable surface. What it did not receive — or did not bother to look for — was the context. It did not receive the South African township culture that birthed Amapiano. The language, the references, and the specific social world the music was made to soundtrack. The artists who built the sound from the ground up — DJ Maphorisa, Kabza De Small, Focalistic — have found some international attention, but the genre is increasingly being reproduced by people with no relationship to its origins. It has been stripped of its meaning and retained for its marketability.
Street-Hop and Indigenous Sound
Portable's “Zazoo Zehh” — a chaotic, profane, brilliantly unhinged record — took over Lagos in 2022 in a way that made very little sense to anyone who wasn't living inside that particular moment. The slang was hyper-local, the production was deliberately rough, and the references were invisible to anyone outside a specific Lagos street context. It was, by every measure of the global filter, unexportable. And it was a phenomenon.
This is the same tradition that runs through Fela Kuti's political Afrobeat and Olamide's early YBNL run, which built an empire on the dignity of the Lagos street voice. It runs through Seun Kuti, who still carries his father's fire, and through a generation of artists making music in indigenous languages — Yoruba, Igbo, Hausa, Twi, Zulu — for audiences who don't need a translation because they are the intended listeners.
This music is the most honest document of African everyday life that exists. It does not flatten itself for palatability or negotiate with the global filter. It asks for nothing except that the listener belongs to the world it was made for. Because of this, the world largely doesn't hear it.
African Indie
Before "Free Mind" made Tems a global name, she was making music for a smaller, more intimate audience. Soft music, searching, and deeply personal in a way that her later work, brilliant as it is, sometimes traded for scale.
That earlier mode — introspective, quiet, and unbothered by marketability — is what African indie represents. It is the Moonchild Sanellys, the Msakis, and the Asa's of the continent. Artists who make music that prioritises feeling over function, storytelling over danceability, and the interior world over the communal floor.
African indie rarely travels. Many times, it is dismissed for not "sounding African enough," — as if Africa is only allowed one emotional register, one volume setting, or one relationship to music. As if the soft, the searching, and the interior are Western inventions that Africans should leave alone. This is the invisible gatekeeping that no one names but is enforced on a global scale.
The Global Filter
None of this happens by accident. There is a filter, and it decides what is palatable for global consumption and what remains local.
Streaming platforms are built on engagement metrics — plays, skips, saves, shares. Afrobeats, with its rhythmic accessibility and high replayability, performs excellently by these measures. Music that is more challenging, more contextual, or more reliant on cultural fluency tends to perform worse. This is not because it is inferior, but because the algorithm was not designed with it in mind. Spotify's African playlist curators have improved significantly, but the structural logic of the platform still rewards the most immediately accessible version of any sound.
Record labels also compound this. When Western labels began signing African artists in earnest — Universal's partnership with Davido, Sony's investment in Afrobeats infrastructure — they were investing in what they already understood would translate. The pipeline that was built moved Afrobeats artists onto global stages. Artists outside that sound found that the pipeline didn't quite reach them.
The diaspora, too, plays a complicated role. African communities abroad have been the greatest ambassadors for their home cultures — but they are also, inevitably, performing those cultures for non-African audiences. In that performance, simplification sometimes happens. The most legible version of home gets amplified. The more complex, the more local, and the more untranslatable parts get set aside for a later time that never arrives.
The filter is not intentionally malicious. It is structural, and is the accumulated result of thousands of small decisions — what to sign, what to playlist, what to promote, and what to stream. Each small decision seems individually reasonable, but are collectively devastating to cultural complexity.
The Cultural Cost - Music is never just Music
When Afrobeats becomes the world's primary reference point for African identity, it carries with it an implied story about who Africans are, how they live, what they feel, what they celebrate, and what they mourn. That story is not false — but it is radically incomplete.
A continent of 1.4 billion people, spread across climates ranging from Saharan desert to equatorial rainforest to Mediterranean coast, speaking more languages than any other landmass on earth, producing art across every conceivable tradition — that continent, in the global imagination, increasingly fits inside a single Spotify playlist.
The psychological cost of this falls on African artists first. When the only viable model for global recognition runs through Afrobeats, artists who make different sounds face a choice: adapt toward the dominant sound and gain access to the global machine, or stay true to their artistic identity and accept relative invisibility. This is not a free choice. It is a subtle, structural and relentless pressure.
The cultural cost falls on audiences everywhere. A world that only knows one version of Africa is a world that makes the worst decisions about Africa — in policy, in investment, in solidarity, and in simple human understanding. Culture is the software that runs our empathy. When the software only has one African reference, the empathy that runs on it is limited accordingly.
This is bigger than music. It is a question about who gets to be complex.
The Shift
But recently, there’s been progress. Though slow and uneven, it is unmistakable. Cruel Santino's Mandy & The Jungle has found a second life in international critical circles. Amapiano has forced global audiences to reckon with the fact that Africa's musical landscape has more than one address. Streaming platforms are beginning to develop more granular African playlists that distinguish between regions, sounds, and traditions. Publications like Pitchfork and The Guardian have begun covering African artists who don't fit the Afrobeats mould with more seriousness and more nuance than they did five years ago.
More importantly, a generation of young African listeners is growing up with a more sophisticated relationship to their own music. They know the difference between Alte and Afrobeats. They know Amapiano's origins. They can tell you who Msaki is and why she matters without needing a Western co-sign to validate the claim. The knowledge is being kept alive, even if the global spotlight hasn't caught up.
But the shift is fragile. Every time a Western artist samples Afrobeats and wins a Grammy, the global centre of gravity moves slightly further toward the one sound. Every time an African artist softens their edges to fit the global playlist, a little more complexity leaves the building.
The music industry — and the audiences that sustain it — must learn to hold more than one story at a time because Africa does not sound like one thing.
Africa sounds like Cruel Santino building a psychedelic mythology in Lagos. It sounds like Amapiano's log drum echoing through a Soweto living room on a Sunday afternoon. It sounds like Portable's unhinged genius making something out of nothing on a street corner. It sounds like Msaki singing something so quiet and so true that you have to lean in to hear it. It sounds like 2,000 languages finding 2,000 different ways to say: I was here. I felt this. This is what it meant to be alive in this place, at this time.
Afrobeats is Africa's greatest introduction. But an introduction is not the full conversation. And the world — if it is serious about actually knowing this continent, and not just dancing to it — has to be willing to stay in the room long enough to hear the rest of what it has to say.
The continent is not a playlist; it is an archive. Africa is more than Afrobeats.
Social media: Substack
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