The Three: September 2022 edition
This month, I wrote about Nigerian fanbases, communities and Peter Obi's emergence as a presidential candidate; Asake's Yorubaness; and so much new music.
Another month, another Three! Thanks so much for subscribing, for sharing, for commenting. I really appreciate your support and the love for this little newsletter :) Let’s get to it, shall we? Previous editions here and here.
Fanbases, Communities and How Nigerians Come Together
The BBC recently shared an excellent documentary on Amapiano, and I was struck by the focus on community. Some of the main drivers of the amapiano movement still lived in their old neighborhoods in Soweto and identified strongly with their people. Even the recognizable names like Daliwonga, Oskido and Major League DJs all spoke of community and home as well as fans. The music, it seems, retains a solid sense of place.
This brought to mind some thoughts on just how different fanbases and communities manifest in Nigeria. Instead of communities from which certain sounds come from, what you often see with Nigeria’s biggest mainstream music stars is more of a “Big Man and his hangers-on” dynamic where people flock to him (it’s usually a “him”) because of his success. Much like pentecostal pastors, these Big Man artist creates a delicate alchemy of familiarity and aspiration, while producing music that both speaks to people’s realities and helps them escape them. The biggest mainstream acts blow like bombs with hit after hit, and become the sun around which their bases eventually orbit. It’s very “la communité, c’est moi,” apologies to King Louis XIV.
The difference between this dynamic and that of a community is that the community precedes the artists, and the music represents the already-existing community’s sense of self. To be sure, there are communities of people to be fed with music that speaks to them. Vincent Desmond wrote for OkayAfrica recently on the electronic music scene in Lagos and how much of a melting pot it is for various sub-communities in the cities. Still in Lagos, Afropolitan Vibes also nurtured a community around a certain kind of music, and it was apparent from the kind of music one might hear at their shows. Similarly, Nativeland shows in Lagos also feed a community of alté music lovers. It is no accident that the examples here are all of various music subcultures. When you have decided that you’re not trying to be a multi-billionaire and just want to make music that you and your people can relate to, it opens up new ways of being that do not confine one to a Big Man formula of one chasing mainstream success. Show Dem Camp typify this community-building path, and I have really enjoy hearing them speak about how they work on building community through their authenticity. It has served them well; their annual Palmwine Fest has grown from a just Lagos affair to a multi-city and international one. In a lot of ways, authenticity is closely related to redefining what success means for you specifically.
The way we build community in Nigeria is different from what the amapiano pioneers have done in part because of how fragmented Nigeria has become over time. So much of Nigerian youth culture today is a dialogue between its local population and its diasporas, especially its London-based one. Getting big in Lagos is hugely important, but other cities like Port Harcourt and Abuja have their subcultures and music hubs, too. Besides, Lagos itself is also fragmented by class, which influences access to various subcultures by finance or even just sheer mainland-island geography. What bridges gaps for young people is what cultural anthropologists might refer to as shared “cultural capital”, the cultural artefacts that we might share with others who came up around the same time that we did: the old school Nollywood films that we all knew and loved growing up that also serve as materials for memes today; songs that we can all sing word for word after too many Long Islands at 2am; cultural events that shape our slang and even inherited stories and experiences that are common across the board. Social media also does a lot to bridge these gaps, teaching people the same lingo or even just bringing people together in ways that make a mockery of distance. Like our amapiano brethren, we have our way of life and we are also inexorably connected – just in a more geographically-agnostic way.
I see a lot of recognition of the nature of community-forming in the youthful energy behind ex-Governor Peter Obi’s run for president. There is the use of social media to bridge gaps – local to diaspora – and build a supporter base. The socioeconomic frustrations of the past decade are part of our cultural capital, but #EndSARS looms large as a time where we saw the power of our collective action. Indeed, I would posit that we would not have a Peter Obi movement if #EndSARS had not happened. The machine for Peter Obi is a community of people who have chosen Peter Obi as a figure representing what they see as a departure from politics as usual. There were even moments in the beginning where it seemed as though the movement for Peter Obi was running on its own. Even though Peter Obi is not necessarily of the Nigerian youth population, many of them have chosen to identify with him and have mobilised for him across the country, taking the energy from online spaces to offline spaces.
The difference between Peter Obi’s emergence and other examples of community formation I can think of is its intentionality. This community made the first move to assert itself, acting with such certainty of its abilities (again, I think largely as a result of #EndSARS) in the political sphere. We seem to be witnessing a group of people recognizing that they are indeed a community, knowing that they can call upon themselves. That is a powerful force, and one I hope to see continue to shape our politics and our collective lives, whatever happens in the upcoming elections.
Full disclosure: I am not backing any horse in the Nigerian electoral race in 2023. Nope, not even Peter Obi. What I will say, though, is that I am happy to see so many people believe again. I feared that Oct 20, 2020, might be the last I would see of faith in action in our politics. I am happy that it only seemed to light a fire for many.
Asake Delivers
Like many Nigerians with a pulse and an appreciation for music, I’ve spent the past year becoming a huge Asake fan.
One of the things that strikes me about Asake is how Yoruba he is. He invokes his stage name, which is also his mother’s name, almost as an oriki in his songs. The casualness of prayer in his music is similar to how prayer is a manner of speaking in Yoruba. His collaboration with DJ Spinall ‘Palazzo’ begins with a prayer that would make your heart melt if it were recited by an elder relative before singing “I say who no like designer?” without missing a beat. On the final song on his 2021 Ololade Asake EP ‘Baba God’, he sings “I no fit sober, ‘cause I got Jehovah gan ni”. In his new album Mr. Money With the Vibe, the first track ‘Dull’ evokes both his ancestors and the Orisha of wealth in Yoruba religious tradition named Aje. It brings to mind how, at our most elemental, Yoruba people do indeed hold things that our western predilections tell us do not belong together, like hedonism and prayer, sensuality and God.
Musically, Asake is unlike anyone else out right now, but that does not mean we have never had a fuji-inflected pop do well; Terry Apala’s ‘Champagne Shower’ did alright back in 2016, after all, and Jazzman Olofin collaborated with Ayuba on ‘Raise da Roof’ in the early 2010s. I just have not seen it come together this beautifully, set against an amapiano and deep house-inflected backdrop, with a drunken choir singing the hooks and random string section over a typical amapiano log-drum. He’s mixed these various influences in a formula that has served up hits, back to back.
As a body of work, Mr. Money with the Vibe is an ode to the Lagosian hustle spirit, full of admonishments to get your paper up and play hard. The record is very amapiano and deep house-flavored, but one can also hear Olamide’s influence strongly on songs like ‘Nzaza’, ‘Ototo’ and ‘Muse’. It is because the music is so amapiano and house-flavored that the brevity of the songs feel especially weird, even though most of our pop faves are making two-minute songs now thanks to the influence of our streaming overlords. Also, on my first listen, I found the transitions from song to song rather jarring. My ears eventually adjusted, and I chalk my even noticing this up to having spent so much time jamming my 2022 notables Beyonce’s Renaissance and Kabza de Small’s incredible KOA II, but not taking care to tighten the transitions on amapiano-influenced music feels lazy. All of that said, the record does not disappoint from one song to another. Besides the solid released singles ‘Terminator’, ‘Peace Be Upon You’, and the ‘Sungba’ remix with Burna Boy, other high points include songs like ‘Joha’, ‘Nzaza’, ‘Ototo’, ‘Organise’ and ‘Sunmomi’. There are not really any “bad” songs that make me wrinkle my nose and hit skip; just high points and “OK” points. If I can name eight songs out of a 12-track record that I genuinely enjoy, I’d call that a record to play straight through and begin again.
Other Stuff I’ve Been Checking Out
Speaking of fanbases, Big Brother Nigeria is currently on, and it has once again brought about a conversation on abuse springing from the relationship between a couple on the show. It has been a subject of much social media conversation and many a Twitter Space already. Document Women and Native have both written editorials opining about the abusive dynamic between two housemates Bella and Sheggz. It reminds me of the conversation in 2017 when a BBN housemate Kemen got disqualified for touching a female housemate while she slept, and even then viewers could not come together to condemn that; in fact, the speaker of his state assembly even defended him in a public statement. I don’t watch BBN, but I hate how much the dynamic of BBN fanbases dictate that people who support a certain housemate cannot also call out their bad behavior. It poisons the well, and obscures what ought to be frank conversations of what cannot be allowed to stand.
There’s also a couple of great conversations you should check out. The amazing British Somali poet Warsan Shire was in conversation with another poet Momtaza Mehri for Granta magazine, and it was full of thoughtful observations on writing, community, immigrant experiences and diasporas. Also, novelist Eloghosa Osunde had a conversation with Joshua Segun-Lean in which they discussed everything from love, friendship, writing and Osunde’s brilliant novel Vagabonds! I keep thinking about how much I should probably drop a review of that novel. Maybe some day.
There’s tons of great music out now. MI’s The Guy is really solid, but I expected nothing less; the man doesn’t know how to make a bad record. My favorite song on that right now is ‘Soft Like Tony.’ Another rap album to check out is Danger Mouse and Black Thought’s Cheat Codes. Black Thought is one of my favorite MCs, and he’s in great form on this one.
I’ve also really enjoyed Buju’s (I still can’t wrap my mind around his new name BNXN) Bad Since ‘97 EP. It’s great chilled out music with solid songwriting and a little playfulness. I didn’t enjoy Magixx’s EP but I found the eponymous EP from Don Jazzy’s other protege Bayanni is much more promising.
Native Sound System’s Nativeworld album that is a lot of fun with some alte faves like Wani and Odunsi, as well as Ayra Starr and Lojay. It’s been on heavy rotation for me, especially ‘Tortoise’, ‘Wedding Ring’, ‘Good Good’, and ‘Stuck on You’. The music is at once contemporary and future-facing, bringing familiar voices with new people you should keep an eye out for. Solid stuff all around.
Speaking of new people, I discovered a Nigerian-Canadian r’n’b artist called Preye. She has a song called ‘Malibu’ that I think is really sweet, and I’m just seeing that she has a body of work called Don’t Look Down! that I’m looking forward to sinking my teeth into. Also on an r’n’b tip, Ari Lennox has a new album age/sex/location that you should check out. The collaborations with Summer Walker and Lucky Daye are my favorites.
I’m also looking forward to checking out Odunsi’s new Denim EP at some point. Maybe you’ll get a review of that next month.
Until next time.
Very lovely, and great references as usual!
Your thoughts on the shape of communities in Nigeria will stay with me for a long time. I found this very profound "..the community precedes the artists, and the music represents the already-existing community’s sense of self."
Sense of self.. and maybe sense of place? Amapiano seems to be rooted in a physical community (Soweto townships) in a way that Lagos, full of displaced people, cannot? I wonder how much this sense of not really belonging to the place contributes to why we build communities around people.
Anyway, this was awesome. Thank you!
This is dope. I subscribed 💯