How well do you know some of Nigeria’s biggest musicians? Well, today, we’re not asking for too much: We just want to see if you can connect the stage name to the real name. We’ll be very impressed if you can get more than 10 right.
Give it a try:
Are you a true lover of Nigerian music? Do you actually pay attention to albums or only focus on the songs that hit the radio? Well, this quiz is here to test your knowledge. Identify 10 out of these 15 Nigerian album covers we’ve pixelated to prove yourself.
Go ahead:
While we know that a lot of the best Nigerian artists deservedly have fans across generations, that won’t stop us from attempting to guess how old you are based on your taste in Nigerian music.
So, take this quiz to see if we got it right:
2019 had a ton of great Nigerian albums, courtesy of big-name stars like Burna Boy and rising phenoms like Lady Donli. While all of these releases came with solid singles, all of them still have non-singles that are worthy of our attention as well.
Burna Boy’s “Wetin Man Go Do” (African Giant)
Burna Boy’s Grammy-nominated magnum opus, African Giant is overflowing with excellent deep cuts, but a clear standout is the hustler’s anthem, “Wetin Man Go Do”. Even Kel-P, the album’s primary producer, declared it his favourite track.
Lady Donli’s “Take Me Home” (Enjoy Your Life)
Lady Donli’s debut album, Enjoy Your Life was easily one of the best releases of 2019. While a lot of tracks on the LP could have made this list, the strongest has to be the BenjiFlow-assisted “Take Me Home”, an immensely sensual song about the allure of the chase.
Santi’s “RX-64” (Mandy & The Jungle)
On Santi’s transportive, genre-defying debut album, Mandy & Jungle, the singer invites us into his vivid universe, and the sun at its centre is the KrisIrie-aided “RX-64 (The Jungle)”. Excellently produced by Odunsi, the hypnotic deep cut shows Santi at his magnetic best.
Asa’s “Stay Tonight” (Lucid)
With Lucid, Asa’s masterful fourth album, the singer-songwriter brilliantly explored the messiness of love and heartbreak. On “Stay Tonight”, the LP’s dreamiest deep cut, she looks to heal from the hurt, bravely putting herself back out there in search of the one.
Simi’s “Immortal” (Omo Charlie Champagne Vol. 1)
On Omo Charlie Champagne Vol. 1, Simi tackles a host of different themes — from loss to fame — but it’s on “Immortal”, her sexiest song to date, that she truly shines. With a fantastic assist from Maleek Berry, “Immortal” is further proof of Simi’s dynamic range.
Falz’s “Follow Follow” (Moral Instruction)
Thanks to Sess’ faultless production work, Falz’s Moral Instruction emerged as one of the most technically impressive albums of 2019. The track that most perfectly encapsulates the album’s sonic mastery is “Follow Follow”, a Fela-inspired gem that calls out posers.
Davido’s “Get To You” (A Good Time)
The most cohesive project of Davido’s career, A Good Time finds the afropop juggernaut celebrating happiness and love. For the latter theme, the song that does the best job of capturing that is “Get To You” — a delightfully toned down and deeply romantic effort.
Tay Iwar’s “DON’T KNOW” (Gemini)
Tay Iwar is one of our most gifted musical minds, and he proved that on his astonishing debut, Gemini. Every song on the LP is a testament to his genius, but “DON’T KNOW”, which features his equally brilliant brother, Suté Iwar, shines just a little bit brighter.
Fireboy DML’s “Like I Do” (Laughter, Tears & Goosebumps)
With Laughter, Tears & Goosebumps, Fireboy DML delivered one of the strongest afropop debut albums we’ve had in years. While littered with beautifully written and performed songs, a clear standout on the project is “Like I Do” — a truly heartwarming love song.
YCee’s “Dada” (YCee Vs Zaheer)
YCee’s debut album, YCee Vs Zaheer, served as an infallible reminder of his range — both as a singer and a rapper — but it was on the Dapo Turbuna-assisted “Dada”, easily the project’s most infectious deep cut, that he reminded us just how much fun he could be as well.
Thanks largely to the grand efforts of the Nigerian rapper, Naira Marley, internet fraud and just how much it has penetrated Nigerian society have been standing front and centre or lingering in the background of online conversation for weeks now.
As his ubiquitous name hints, Naira Marley, whose real name is Afeez Abdul, has created an online persona that revolves around his love of the bag and marijuana, alongside his music. He’s added another feather to that cap by donning the role of spokesperson for internet fraud sympathizers.
It began with a series of retorts to Simi’s put-down of cyber-crime in this video and peaked with the release of rhetorically-titled “Am I A Yahoo Boy?”, a song which addressed claims that he, and fellow rapper, Zlatan Ibile, are internet fraudsters.
Either they were foreshadowing or just using a very elaborate music video to draw even more attention to themselves, the two, alongside three others, were arrested by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission. Marley’s arrest and the shenanigans he’s been up to have overshadowed another issue; that of yahoo-yahoo and its marriage of circumstance to Nigerian music.
Many Nigerian musicians have stained their white with yahoo money at various times, wittingly and unwittingly. And more money is always useful; they’re in an industry that’s low on cash beneath the charade of overlit music videos. But what happens from there? I’m thinking it’s either of these;
Nigerian Gansgta Music
The original gangsta rap, a sub-genre of hip-hop, emerged when gangsters – the street and mid-level criminals, gang members and drug dealers, and people close to them began to tell their grimy real-life stories on wax. Now imagine that, but in Nigeria with songs like “The 10 Bombing Commandments”, and “Lexus RX350 Music”. My point is we can still get something good out of this mess.
The G-Boy Music Monopoly (*insert evil laugh here*)
Now that everyone’s agreed that we’re broke, individually and as a nation, it shouldn’t be hard to notice that music and entertainment is one of the few sectors that’s growing while everything else shrinks. A big part of that is down to the funding, and the federal government’s budget for 2019 sure as hell doesn’t have a provision for “Wizkid, Davido, Don Jazzy and friends”. The clue is in the nods; like how M.I Abaga praised internet fraudsters and blessed their hustle for keeping Nigerian music alive, so to speak, on an episode of Pulse Nigeria’s Loose Talk Podcast. So what happens when the proceeds from internet fraud become the go-to source of seed funding for music startups? Which brings us to the next alternate universe.
A Yahoo-Music Cabal
What if the proceeds from internet fraud become the ONLY source of seed funding for music startups? There are already signs of what it would sound like; quite a few musicians have earned their keep and name by praise-singing certain ‘gentlemen with questionable income’. I thought about the best way to say that last one. It wouldn’t be new. For centuries, artists were entirely funded by families, dynasties and empires. So picture it. Record labels named according to the scam? Wire Records Inc. Genres by most profitable country?
An Underground G-Boy Music Scene
Naira Marley and Zlatan Ibile didn’t just crawl out of the woodwork. Both artists have been making music for years. They represent a lane of street rappers from mainland Lagos that popped with Small Doctor in 2016. The subject matter dates way back though. Some people mention Olu Maintain’s 2007 mega-hit, “Yahooze” as a landmark moment.
D’banj’s “Mobolowowon” features a supposedly personal tale featuring credit card fraud that seems a direct inspiration for Naira Marley’s “Japa“, a 2018 sleeper hit. In both songs, where the rapper, cast as a survivalist anti-hero, repeatedly evades arrest by officers of the UK Police. Since 2012 and Reminisce’s “Too Mussh“, indigenous rappers and singers have been naming benefactors and friends by name. Some of them are, you guessed it, gentlemen of questionable behaviour.
To be fair, the behemoth that is Nigerian music is too strung up on dancing and immediate returns on hasty, large-scale efforts to cultivate a rap scene for 100 Stacks, the retired g-boy from Agege. Nigerian music has eyes on it now, and the bar for entry is rising. So sorry, 100 stacks.
Naira Marley’s recent arraignment before a Federal High Court in Lagos is proof that the powers that be are hip to the times (or in simpler terms, STREETS IS WATCHING), it’s unlikely this moment alone would undo almost a decade’s worth of cultural influence. Get strapped; we’re in for some very interesting times.
For the last two weeks or so, Davido has had to answer some weird questions on his tour of US radio.
You may have missed the memo, but Nigeria is casted in the abroad. While Davido has been talking about his music, the radio hosts have also asked him about what life is like for the regular guy in Nigeria.
He’s been answering in juicy detail.
Nigeria, with all its 200 or so million people, has no middle class.
The gulf between the rich and the poor is so wide that if you’re one of the wealthy (or your father managed to gather wealth at the expense of the rest of us), you cannot help standing out.
In a country where you’re either rich or poor, most people assume to achieve wealth, you need to take advantage of everyone else, like a corrupt politician.
While that may or may not be true, it is a cross that most of the wealthy and (not-so-unfortunately) their kids have to carry.
So what do they do? Many of them take the easiest route; try to blend in with the rest of us poverty-stricken folk. Take Davido for instance, the first words he ever performed on a song are ‘back when I was broke yo’, even though he’s never been broke his entire life.
Did Davido pull it off? Not exactly. Take it from me. As someone who’s been shepeteri all his life, I know how to not be the typical rich kid.
It starts by staying as far away from a microphone as possible.
It’s easy to convince yourself that you have talent when Wande Coal let you destroy his song for your 12th birthday.
But no matter what you do, never get involved in music. Here in Nigeria, music and football are incubators for rags-to-riches stories. It’s part of how the world works on this side. Rich kids go to school and collect degrees to work in their dad’s offices.
Poor children sleep in the studio or on the pitch and wake up decades later with one hit song or an invitation to try out for a Turkish 5th Division club.
Davido and DJ Cuppy are testaments to how hostile Nigerians can be if they feel you’re getting a free ride on your father’s money in a field where only the talented should flourish.
Getting any form of success in music while your dad’s stashing money in the family home in Orlu is bound to get people digging, which brings me to my next point.
If you don’t have the padlock on your social media, DO IT NOW.
You may not have noticed (thanks to those thick Balenciaga glasses rendering you legally blind) but there’s unemployment in the land. The average 25-year-old is spending way more time than they should on Instagram, digging through photos and making connections like a digital Inspector Bediako.
We all know social media is for sharing stuff with friends and all that. Guess who doesn’t care? Instablog9ja.
You may think it’s just your friends checking your photos until one day, someone reposts one of you rocking Virgil Abloh’s new Off-White collab. Then, you suddenly get 1000 followers from the same side of town as Brother Shaggi in one afternoon. Sooner or later, Instablog9ja comes calling.
To prevent this, make your friends swear a blood oath to not post any photos of you in compromising situations.
Of course, if you have good friends, one of them will empathise with your situation and volunteer to make life easier for you.
How? By being your Man Friday… or whichever day of the week you choose.
His sole purpose is to be a front, to be the one whose name appears on the receipt when you buy something expensive. He’ll be the one who everybody celebrates as the innovative CEO when you buy a company with your father’s stolen money and use connections to solve all its problems. Depending on how much his extended family depends on your ‘kindness’, he can also do jail time for you.
You could totally employ someone for this role too (because you actually have money so you can buy a person’s time and attention for as long as you want).
Speaking of problems, I’m sure you never thought of your great dress sense and massive wardrobe as one. Well, think it again bro.
Regardless of whether they attend Pastor Lazarus Muoka’s church or not, most people like to look good. And while all that money means you can actually afford to, rocking Louis Vuitton like ‘Hushpuppi’ could literally be the most stupid thing you could do.
Because Nigerians are funny, one moment, they’re hailing you as a style icon. Then your father’s name gets mentioned by the EFCC and “news blogs” put those photos of you looking like HushPuppi as the cover image.
I can already see the Whatsapp BCs; “While you blind yourself with kerosene lamps and pee inside buckets, comman see what the son of our leaders are doing with our MONEEYYYYY”
*insert photo of a young man dressed as a wealthy Igbo time-traveller here*
To be fair, all of this is enough to distract people from the fact that your gut is fattening on taxpayers’ money to an extent. But it’s not enough.
Everything we’ve said will be completely pointless if you do not have something to show as the source of your wealth. You don’t want a random Joe to stumble on your LinkedIn and find that the only employment info on your LinkedIn page is from that time in 2009 where you called yourself your dad’s assistant because he asked you to transfer money to MC Oluomo.
So get a job. If you have to open a brand new company with a strange name that does everything on paper and nothing in real life, do it. Employ people who regularly retweet your meaningless tweets because loyalty, print identity and business cards, have company retreats.
When they ask you why you’re paying them even though they’re not working, tell them their job is social welfare and you’re using them as the first example. It makes no sense but by the time they figure it out, you’ll have left the building in your helicopter.
Save for some spiritual intervention or hidden cameras (Shout-out to Jafaar), anyone should be scandal proof if you can manage to live life on these terms.
You’re probably wondering why I’m dishing these tips out for free. Well, call it empathy, but since I became, you know, an adult, I’ve come to understand that dirty money doesn’t care who you are inside.
So this is my contribution to all my friends and foes trying to make sure the dirty money they’re spending doesn’t stain their white.
Eat your cake and have it, my dear. Nothing do you.
While you’re here, let me tell you about the Zikoko Pop Newsletter.
It’s called Poppin’ – everything you should know happening in pop culture, plus recommendations, our fire playlists, info on all the best parties and freebies you won’t get anywhere else. Do the right thing and sign up, my gee.
You’ve probably heard the story before.
An exciting female musician begins to catch some buzz. After teasing crumbs on her Instagram, she puts herself out there for the first time. Millions more get to meet this insane talent.
That’s where things start to get funny. To some, she’s as ‘fine’ as they expect any self-respecting female musician to be. To others, she’s a bit too fine – so much that they’re sure her body is her primary product. But she does well. Well enough that she damns the warnings to tone down the ‘energy’.
See, there’s no space on the fringes for women in Nigerian music.
But who cares? She drops the album. Everyone laps it up.
Some more good news; a baby. Great, right? A fitting end to the first chapter of a budding success story, right? Not exactly. Because for the next few weeks, our heroine has to deal with new rumours that she sold herself out for money.
Pundits divine she’ll choose her family over the music. Others say she never cared in the first place.
By the time she begins to roll out her next single, she’s seen the light in all the ‘advice’. No-one cares anymore.
This is a true story.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O22u_FUkmu8
Or at least, an aggregate of the real stories of artists like Waje and Omawumi. It’s the inverse of Teni the Entertainer’s troubles. It’s what everyone expected to happen to Tiwa Savage.
It tells of a very simple reality; that while Nigerians may love their female musicians, we expect them to fit very strict specifications.
They have to be traditionally beautiful, but not too much, or it may intimidate us. They have to be strong, but only in a motherly sense. Sex appeal is super important, but they can’t have partners, especially wealthy ones. They now belong to us.
And God forbid they go so far that they have kids and a ‘happy married life’ after. Tueh.
Basically, they have to be safe – as safe as possible.
You see, everyone knows that Nigerian music is largely a male enterprise.
For all the ground covered by Nigeria’s pop princes – Wizkid, Burna Boy, Davido, Tekno, Mr Eazi, only one woman plays in the same league – Tiwa Savage.
What no-one ever talks about is that women are the uber-minority in pop culture, because they have to play by a different set of rules entirely. And everyone, male and female, whether you’re a record label head or Kamoru with the MP3 player, is guilty of upholding those rules.
How? You see, we love to classify things. Food. Music. And the people who make it. But when an unfamiliar set of people doesn’t fit any classification, we sort-of panic, and find a way to get rid of them.
We’re also guilty of doing ourselves a great disservice.
By expecting women in music to be simple and safe, conservative or matronly, we shut our eyes and ears to everything else that makes them women. We tell them there are no ears for their stories or their experiences.
Till this day, the Nigerian wife in represented in music as a hyper-sexual opportunist or the weaker vessel – a hapless appendage, in songs written by naive young men and women who should know better.
We tell them that their identity does not matter – they might as well be all be versions of the same person, like mass-produced dolls off a production line.
And in doing so, we silence the best voices before their first words.
It’s no mistake that one of the biggest criticisms of Nigerian music is that it’s mostly opaque.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Buwa_vTBrsS/
It’s hard to see beneath the veil of party bangers and praise singing. When you do manage to steal a look, things are as bland and impersonal as possible.
That’s why it’s important that things are changing. Cue a group of women who are breaking that mould.
The subject of where they come from is exciting; some will remind you of the strong back women of 1990s R&B. Others preach the militant gospel of the internet-assisted open source feminism of the 2010s. Others just are, because they really don’t need to explain where they’re from.
In the last few years, we’ve been confronted with women who do not feel the need to satisfy our expectations.
And it’s been beautiful to watch.
There’s Teni; an absolute baby girl who rocks baggy shorts and is proof that beauty doesn’t always come in size 12. The phenomenal Asa is proof that women can be smart, politically aware and successful musicians while giving no hoots about your desire for sex appeal. Tiwa oozes that sex appeal yet she has a workhorse’s reputation as well and is going benchmark-for-benchmark with her male peers.
If there’s one thing common among these women, it is that they do not feel the need to satisfy our expectations. They are not safe, neither are they sorry for how you feel about that.
Of course, they’ve faced their fair share of criticism. Some have accused Tiwa, for instance, of being too pick-me and ignorant of the plight that women face.
But such criticism is beside the point. The women, like Tiwa and Teni, who choose to do things on their terms are an affront to our ideas of what women should and can be.
For starters, they bring with them a refreshing type of authenticity.
There’s no better proof of this today than Teni – an artist who has shed all the typical expectations of a female musician and forced us to focus on what she can do. And within that ability to make extremely relatable songs, Teni’s connected to her audience in ways that none of her more ‘practical’ predecessors could lay claim to.
Her success, if nothing else, is an inspiration–you’ll see a few more Tenis soon enough.
Of course, for everyone who loves music, this should mean everything.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKSkr7TILRs
‘Safe’ often means familiar, but when artistes no longer feel pressured by that tag, they make what they want to make.
Today, the alte scene is defined by artists who are dipping their hands in various unfamiliar genres of music. But it is arguably the women who are doing the most audacious genre-bending, recording entire projects on cell phones and baring their soul in their work in a way that’s just unusual. Artistes like Lady Donli make no attempt to fit the mould and one track at a time, they’re changing our ideas of what ‘Nigerian’ can or should sound like.
This new wave of defiant women in art and their refreshing stories is not unique to music.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v45GprEyM7U
Two of the best young photographers from out of Nigeria – Emily Nkanga and Yagazie Emezi – are young, self-aware and unapologetic women. Oyinkan Braithwaite, Genevieve Nnaji and Nora Awolowo are telling nuanced stories of the Nigerian experience through female eyes and we love it. This revolution will be televised and streamed on IG as well.
It’s somewhat telling that many of the women who got buried in the pressure to conform are now giving as few fucks as possible too. The last few months have gifted us with rawer, more personal versions of stalwarts like Waje and Omawumi – and music they wouldn’t have made years ago.
The women who do not feel the need to be safe are writing a new template for the Nigerian woman in music, and art, in a larger sense. It’s one where the only person she has to answer to is herself, and we’re already the better for it.
While you’re here, let me tell you about the Zikoko Pop Newsletter.
It’s called Poppin’ – everything you should know happening in pop culture, plus recommendations, our fire playlists, info on all the best parties and freebies you won’t get anywhere else. Do the right thing and sign up, my gee.
It’s been a long time since Nigerian singers performed before wealthy men, recorded these shows and sold them in tapes.
Today, we’ve arrived in the age of viral stars like Teniola and Slimcase, and runs of dominance like Davido’s stellar 2017.
Nigerian music has risen to become the country’s most consistent export.
Various watershed moments have stood about between then and now.
But if anyone’s asking when this phase of Nigerian Afro-pop began, you’ll have to look no further than a decade ago, the year when a short black boy and a silver-tongued stoner initiated the beginning of a cycle.
2008 was the year when the old guard had the airwaves snatched from their hands with a brand of music that was heavy on simplicity and inimitable.
A decade since that passing of the baton, I’ve been wondering, “Where are the artists who ushered in the age of Afro-pop?”
M.I Abaga
For years, nay, decades, Nigerian hip-hop had been heavily inaccessible.
It was in a large part due to the lack of a popular middle ground.
Fans could either listen to a hybrid of gangsta and intellectual rap by cliques who were desperate to sound like their heroes in New York or a brand of amusing social commentary spearheaded by eLDee’s Trybesmen and most notably, Freestyle Essien.
M.I. changed all that with his debut album, “Talk About It” and created a new template for rappers that is still followed till this day.
So Where’s Mr Abaga Today?
Five studio albums and three mixtapes later, one could say MI is on the other side of his time at the summit.
After being Africa’s number one for over half the decade, Mr Incredible says he’s now trying to revive Nigerian hip-hop and support a new set of rule-breakers at Chocolate City.
His most recent album, “Yung Dxnzl: A Study On Self-Worth” may not have reached the heights of his previous work – but it represents where M.I. is now; a veteran looking within for what might have been and what could still be.
ASA
Asa’s classic self-titled album dropped a year earlier in 2007, but it was in 2008 that songs like Bibanke became anthems.
Asa was emo before we knew what the word meant; an eloquent soul songstress who told familiar stories in a tone that was not as familiar at the time.
In doing so, she opened the gates for other pop/soul acts and provided a formula to help them get Nigerians listening.
Nowadays, Asa Lives In France
https://www.instagram.com/p/BUzVF9alYwW/
The albums and videos come rarely nowadays.
One could say she has ascended to that self-imposed reclusive state that true artists do, and you would be right. We only see her in December for an annual concert – an experience that reminds us what we fell in love with a decade ago.
We just want her back.
There are fine, serviced flats in Banana Island.
NAETO C
Before Davido became the face of pop stars born into Nigeria’s upper class, Naeto C, son of a former Aviation minister introduced Nigeria to a new, smooth form of rap. From his diction to the subject matter and lines like “jaded view, you can’t record my flaws”, it was as if Naeto C, was saying “no be fight, we can actually make this rap thing classy”.
Naeto used the freedom to be ambitious and aspirational in his music, and many more have since.
Without Naeto, there’d be no Cartier, Ghetto P, Yung6ix. The list goes on.
This One Is A Bit Hard. Mostly Because No-One Knows What Naeto Is Up To Nowadays.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bp2O9GNgeWW/
The only MC with an MSc, until Lord V, enjoyed his best year in 2011. And there was no better sign that heaven put hand on top am than “Share My Blessings”.
Then Naeto turned his attention to family and business and left the public eye until 2015 when he dropped two albums.
But no-one was expecting anything from him so it really went unnoticed. And that’s where we are.
We could get an album tomorrow, although the man seems engrossed in daddy duties with his third child, Naeso. Nobody knows what to expect.
9ICE
What set 9ice apart from the rest of this class was that his primary medium was Yoruba – the language, the inherent sense of melody and the rich oral tradition.
9ice had been around for a while but in 2008, the stars lined up for the Coded Tunes frontman.
The result is an album, primarily sung in one language, that crossed regional and national borders and put 9ice on the same stage as U2 for a concert in celebration of Nelson Mandela.
Nigerians had made songs in local dialects for decades, but in a world that was gradually becoming smaller, “Gongo Aso” redefined how Nigerian musicians portrayed their identity.
10 Years Later, 9ice Makes Do With Cult Status.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BqM58GXHb-F/
None of the works quite hit the creative and commercial heights that Gongo Aso did.
And while he’s one of the most prolific artists around – 9 albums in 12 years – quality has steadily been in short supply.
Yet “Gongo Aso” is not so easily forgotten and he still enjoys the repute the album gave him – 9ice still makes music but it’s just not as nice anymore.
X-PROJECT
If there’s one song that can define the intensity with which indigenous dance music overran 2008, it’s “Lorile”.
Little was known of the trio before they showed up in early 2008 with a hit that really shouldn’t have worked.
To start with, the song was noisy, it was entirely made in Yoruba and it was impossible to make any sense of what Konga, the featured guest, was saying.
Yet, it became a dance floor staple from my street carnival to Road Runners . X-Project’s success validated a lot of underground musicians in Ebute Metta, Agege and all the Lagos’ suburbs where this sort of music had grown over years.
Lowkey, this is the reason ‘shaku-shaku’ has gone international, ‘shepeteri’ is popular slang and Slimcase has a career.
If You Find X-Project, Please Call 08072769656.
We need help with this one. These men seem to have left the face of God’s green earth.
J.MARTINS
Prior to 2008, J.Martins was largely known as a producer from the East whose signature sound was a fast-paced take on highlife influenced by soca rhythms.
J. Martins brought that mix of Igbo and Brazil to bear on “Good or Bad” featuring frequent collaborators, P-Square and Timaya.
For all purposes, it was a pop song as evidenced in its wild popularity but layered within was a formula that adapted high-life music for the 21st century.
Highlife had finally found a place at popular music’s table. It wouldn’t be until 2017 that a Yoruba boy by way of Ghana would alter the formula.
Is J.Martins Still Tweaking Highlife in 2018?
https://www.instagram.com/p/BoqJwFhFfXM/
Not exactly.
Some would give J. Martins credit for building a bridge between Anglophone and Francophone Africa. At a time when his peers were chasing Snoop Dogg, he was making his name alongside acts like Fally Ipupa and DJ Arafat.
Today, he’s more likely to be seen globe-trotting for his various side hustles. The odd song still comes out – like October’s “Ogologo Ndu”.
It’s been a long time since he was living with P.Square and hoping for his big break. There’s no pressure now.
Honourable Mention: WIZKID
Wizkid didn’t drop his first single until 2010, and we had to wait till the next year for his debut album.
But if you’re looking to find when Nigeria’s most influential artiste of the last decade first announced himself, it was in 2008 on “Fast Money, Fast Cars”, off MI’s debut, “Talk About It”.
MI told me Wizkid recorded the verse off random freestyles, after taking a bike to his house following a phone call. It was a small taste of what was to come.
In the next three years, Wizkid would become the most-sought-after hook-master on the continent, define what it meant to be a wunderkind and break the ceiling for his peers.
Walking Runways In Dolce & Gabbana. Scoring a US No. 1 Hit As A Featured Act On Drake’s “One Dance”. Fronting For Brands Like Ciroc And Moschino.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BqSJwrKhf8X/
Wizkid is still breaking ceilings.
For the first time since 2011, he may have genuine contenders for his position as the biggest musician in Nigeria.
But when the trends end, Wizkid’s legacy will be that he gave the rest a standard to meet, or at the least, aspire to.
The Internet has gone mad again. I woke up to Duncan Mighty slander, wow.
Duncan Mighty trended on Twitter, and it’s not because he’s added another album to his famous five. People are saying Wizkid ‘revived’ Duncan’s career because of the Fake Love collabo.
This begs the question, did Duncan’s career ever die? Class is now in session, ladies and gentlemen.
No, it never did. Duncan Mighty has been giving us jams since 2008 that he dropped his first album, ‘Koliwater’. That album gave us hits like Wene Mighty, Ako Na Uche, along with 20 other tracks and it was a monster! Please tell me where you think Wizkid was in 2008. Wizkid called Duncan a legend here. Do they revive the careers of legends?
He dropped another four albums, with the last one being in 2016 called The Certificate that had hits like ‘Onyinye’ and ‘Port Harcourt Girl’.
This is 2018, and Duncan’s last successful album was 2016. Let’s do the math together, shall we?
Let me make a thread on this Duncan Mighty and Wizkid conversation. See below.
According to Joey Akan, Duncan Mighty was this close to starting a Duncan Mighty Republic. Something like Kalakuta to Lagosians, so you know it’s not a small thing.
But come sef, let’s reason; Duncan wrote and produced Fake Love, and he owned it! So I’m not understanding what people are talking about.
It’s like we have all forgotten ‘Obianuju’ that was a viral sensation or ‘I Don’t Give A Shot’. Come on, many of your faves can’t relate.
My dear Lagosians, there are 35 other states in Nigeria. I know it’s actually easy to forget so I won’t blame you too much. Duncan Mighty is King in the South. The fact that what you mostly hear is songs from other musicians is simply a matter of geography.
Honestly, this is what I think. I may be wrong (which I’m not lol). What do you guys believe? Comment below, or tweet us @zikokomag!