Burna Lo Help Diddy: How Sesame Seeds and Afrobeats Became Nigeria's Biggest Exports
What is Afrobeats? Why is it becoming relevant? What should we do with it?
Fam, I have been away for much of August because I have been trying to adjust to my new job at Zikoko. No vex for me biko, na hustle. You can read all of the “Citizen” articles I wrote when I was away, here. And yes, read up Zikoko, the very best place for smart and fun content for African youths.
Lets’s Start With Burna Boy (S’ohun gan gan lo help Diddy?*)
“Musical Garveyism”- That’s what Pitchfork called Burna Boy’s attempt at bringing African and diaspora artistes together in the ‘Afrocentric’ and highly successful album - African Giant. In my own attempt at figuring out Burna Boy’s ideology and the thought process behind his (recent?) Afrocentric (again) music, I have once described his opinions as “Philosophical Orubebeism” - They just felt incoherent to me, to be honest.
But my opinion of Burna Boy’s ideology is not what matters here - if Burna Boy even thinks of whatever he says and does as an ‘ideology’. I am far too cynical anyway, and so my opinion of Burna Boy’s thoughts is certainly tainted by my views on Africa, blackness, what I’ll call ‘Africa-not-as-a-charity-case’, and my thinking that everyone is trying to jump on that “African” wave for their own good. But you can question Burna Boy’s ‘ideology’ from now till tomorrow (ideologies are meant to be questioned, anyway), but you certainly cannot doubt the quality of his music. Burna Boy is certainly, definitely one of the most talented musicians to have ever come out of Nigeria. But it’s even bigger than just the music - it’s his dedication to greatness, to always doing more, to becoming legendary, especially in a world and an industry where artistes are just looking for the kaluba.
You can clearly observe his growth as an artiste with every single body of work. The last three: “Outside” was raw, gritty, unfiltered and jarring. “African Giant” was Burna Boy coming into his ideological own and stepping into something bigger than him. “Twice as Tall” is the mythical Burna, described as Herculean, balancing carefully the challenges of being a leading light while telling anyone that cares to listen that he is “way too big to be fucking” with them.
And he certainly is. If your album is number one in 22 countries and tops the Billboard World Albums Chart, you, my brother, are a hot shit. In fact, a global treasure, you are.
Kolo Beating, Afrobeats
When 16 year-old Natasha heard D’banj’s Oliver Twist in the summer of 2012, she couldn’t get enough, at least that’s The Guardian says. “Afrobeats is the best thing to dance to right now, it’s got the best vibe”, she adds. But did Afrobeats really have the best vibe? Does it still do? In fact, what is Afrobeats?
When The Guardian met with DJ Abrantee (in the same article), who is credited with coining the term “Afrobeats”, he said of Afrobeats:
"This is specifically the western African sound: there are a lot of shared ideas between these two neighbouring countries. I see Afrobeats as music which makes the heart beat. And it's funky, and hyped, and energetic and young."
Sway, a British-Ghanian rapper further added:
"Fela Kuti is obviously a massive legend in the game, and what he was doing is not too different to what D'Banj is doing now – taking western influences and adding them to African culture, and coming up with something new, that appeals to everyone."
So, from these extrapolations, I think we can draw a syllogism (too much English, sorry). Afrobeats is mainly West African music with a lot of outside influences, intended to be urban, funky, danceable and ‘happy-go-lucky’. It is music that dates from Azadus to Adekunle Gold, spanning all of the last 22 years. It is music post-Fela, pushed by label execs like Baba Keke and D1 when no one saw the light in the child’s play that it was. It is music that began and is still made in some crappy, hot, stuffy studios - without zilch for government financial support and the cold, waiting, ruthless hands of Alaba marketers or pirates or both. It is music where artistes are always fighting their label owners, where contracts are signed on the bed, where Tekno’s Kporokoto is Reminisce’s Fikifaka. It is music that is for many young Nigerians often the difference between a lifetime of poverty and a lifetime filled with immense luxury, prosperity and more than two babaymamas.
Afrobeats is the sweat of Nigeria's creative young people who will rather break a wall with their elbows than turn back with their necks drooling because of failure to try, or even failure.
Afrobeats is our music, but because DJ Abrantee is credited to have named it does not mean we have not been making music before the naming. Oliver Twist and a couple of Nigerian/West African songs blew internationally in the early 2010s, and that was it. Nigerian music found a black diaspora of young people who wanted to enjoy themselves and simultaneously connect to their roots through sweet music, and Afrobeats was born. And since then Nigeria has become a net exporter of music, but it dosen’t even acknowledge it.
“Music Is Spiritual. The Music Business Is Not” - Van Morrison
At this point, it is safe to say that the Nigerian music industry has finally crossed the rubicon. The labour of all the early music acts and stakeholders has turned to something really valuable. And even though we have a culture that does not genuinely reflect and take stock of wins, our music is now fully global. Music is the new Bonny Light, and we have now successfully exported the finest brand of our music for global consumption. In fact, calling the music we make in Nigeria “local” is surely borne out of either ignorance, jealousy or good old ‘inferiority complex’.
For emphasis: Obama has Wizkid and Tems on his summer playlist. Burna Boy filled up the Wembley SSE Arena. Davido is pulling crowds in far away Suriname. Rema is on Jimmy Kimmel live. Yemi Alade is finessing with Beyonce at the Lion King Premiere. Niniola has a song with Timbaland. Tiwa Savage is with Universal Music Group. And on and on. Nigerian artistes are definitely crossing major milestones, and even the ones who currently aren’t are ever so hopeful.
But, music can also be transient, and sometimes sounds are like waves - they do die out. So ensuring that Afrobeats remains a global powerhouse, in a way that still delivers optimum value for all of Nigerian stakeholders has to be a key conversation - one that is maybe not happening. Even Abrantee thought it best when he added: “Music is always evolving, and everyone's always looking for the next drug.”
For instance, consider UK’s Funky House. It was all the rage in the summers of 2008 and 2009, with heavy hits like Kyla’s “Do You Mind” (the exact song sampled in Drake’s “One Dance”). The genre is a predominantly dance music that traces back to heavy African, Latina and Raggae influences using drum beats, bass loops, keyboard interludes and underlyings, and percussion. But Funky House is largely in oblivion in the UK today, due to a combination of different factors, including that listeners grew tired.
Nigerian Music or Afrobeats - Kill, Date, Marry
Here’s the fact - Nigerians will never grow tired of Nigerian music. That’s like saying Yoruba mothers will grow tired of shouting on the phone. We have been making our own music here for local consumption since the beginning of time. And as long Nigerians still have ears to listen to music, we will jam the hell out of our thing. But, Afrobeats is not technically Nigerian music. Afrobeats is more our music export to the rest of the world, and Afrobeats can end its run. Again, people are always looking for new sounds, not just in the UK and US, but everywhere, and novelty of Afrobeats can wear out.
But I also still don’t think Afrobeats will wear out. It has gained a lot of relevance, and it has really grown to accommodate a lot of other adjacent sounds, including “Afro-swing”, “Afro-basement”, “Afro-pop” and “Afro-fusion”, and there’s just anything that can be tagged as “Afrobeats”. Afrobeats also feels different from sounds like Funky House in the sense that it is propelled by more than a fad. You get a sense that it is the music of a continent. There is a population of black people abroad who genuinely want to reconnect with music that is made back ‘home’, and so if the excitement of Afrobeats dies out, the relevance might not. In recent times, Afrobeats has come to be a music umbrella for disparate sounds of the remotest black origin , especially African origin. The launch of the official UK Afrobeats charts and the controversy that followed is a example of the admiration and contention that Afrobeats draws.
Either way, the Nigerian government must work with stakeholders to ensure that the Nigerian music industry lifts more people out of poverty and generates more jobs for our young people, especially through finance support for record labels, music distribution companies and other pivotal support infrastructures of the industry. That way, we can keep exporting great sounds internationally. And if the fad of Afrobeats does die out internationally, we can keep having a thriving industry back home, as before.
All so that if Wizkid says “Joro” one-zillion billion times, we won’t even notice. We will just keep dancing, as always.
* Is he really the one who helped Diddy?