Tag: Afrobeats

  • The Ego-Less Handshake in Afrobeats

    The Ego-Less Handshake in Afrobeats

    Written by: Abdulmuqsit Idowu

    There is a specific kind of electricity that hits the timeline when a massive joint project is announced. It feels different from a solo album rollout; while a solo body of work is a statement of self, a joint project is a high-stakes conversation—and honestly, it’s the ultimate ego-check. Right now, it’s time for Real Vol 1 from Wizkid and Asake, which in all senses we are incredibly lucky to be getting. In an industry often paralysed by “Who is bigger?” and “Who has more streams?”, seeing the architect of the 2010s global run trade verses with the undisputed landlord of the 2020s is a massive win for the culture. It’s a refreshing outlier, proof that when the music is right, the generational gaps and the towering egos simply take a backseat.

    I’ve always felt that the African music landscape finds its greatest strength in these rare, concentrated collisions. Unlike a standard feature—where an artist just “pops in” for a quick 16 bars, a joint project requires building an entirely new world. We saw this tectonic shift back in 2015 with Olamide and Phyno’s 2Kings. That wasn’t just an album to me; it was a cultural treaty. Seeing the King of the West and the Eze Nnunu of the East shake hands on a full-length record told the streets of Lagos and Enugu that we were all on the same frequency. It proved that our local dialects weren’t only “indigenous”—but the main event. If you want to talk about drama-turned-classics, we have to look at Bnxn and Ruger’s RnB. For years, we watched them trade subs on Twitter over “solo hits” vs “features” and who had the better numbers. Then, out of nowhere, they hopped on a flight, sat in a room, and knocked out a seven-track EP in just three days. Sonically, it’s a masterclass in chemistry—Bnxn’s “velvet and honey” hooks meeting Ruger’s gritty, dancehall-inflected delivery. It transformed a public rivalry into a shared victory lap that solidified proving that an alliance will always be more powerful than an enemy.  

    The impact of these alliances often dictates the very “vibe” of our lives for years. Think back to the mid-2010s when the energy between Nigeria and Ghana was at its peak. Those collaborative efforts between the likes of Mr Eazi and Juls literally slowed down our heartbeats. They took us from the frantic dance steps of the early 2010s into a smooth, “Pon Pon” highlife-infused era that had everyone leaning back in the club instead of sweating through their shirts. These projects are like the secret R&D labs of Afrobeats; they test the sounds that eventually become our personality for the next three Decembers.

    What really gets me excited about Real Vol 1 is the “coronation” factor. When a titan like Wizkid shares the marquee with a force like Asake, it’s the ultimate flex of confidence. Wizkid has mastered this polished, “expensive” minimalism that feels like a chilled glass of wine on a private jet. Then you have Asake, whose sound is like a frantic, beautiful Lagos rush hour—choral, urgent, and deeply rooted in Fuji. Watching these two sonic worlds collide is fascinating because it’s a handshake between the veteran’s poise and the newcomer’s hunger, plus you could tell both of them genuinely enjoy each other’s company. Remember the “big brother, small brother” energy that completely took over our feeds some months back, seeing them buddy up on their Apple Music radio takeover and joke around for Instagram’s Close Friends Only series made the internet pause a little from stan wars, but enjoy a lovely, wholesome environment, maybe i’m living in a bubble who knows, but it’s rare to see that level of unfiltered love in such a high-pressure industry, and it makes the music on the project feel so much deeper knowing it comes from a place of actual friendship. 

    Ultimately, these bodies of work remind us that we’re part of a continuum. In an industry where everyone is constantly fighting for a singular crown, the joint project is that rare moment where two giants decide the kingdom is better served by a shared vision. It’s a bridge between the legends we grew up with and the superstars we’re stanning today. I don’t see this as a new tracklist or just another collaboration; we’re witnessing a legacy being reinforced in real-time, and I for one am just happy to be here for the ride.

  • Africa Magic Was Always More Than TV—SDC Knew Exactly What They Were Doing on “Afrika Magik”

    Africa Magic Was Always More Than TV—SDC Knew Exactly What They Were Doing on “Afrika Magik”

    By Lawrence Hart

    Show Dem Camp
    Show Dem Camp

    At the Centre of every middle-class family revolves an evening’s catching up with African magic playing on the DSTV. The choice of “Afrika Magik” is a symbolic one by SDC. Almost like a reminder of the cultural heritage and nostalgia African magic brought to our homes. The album is a love-letter to Nigerian life, to the undercurrents of belief, myth, women’s voices, and the rhythms of Lagos and beyond.

    The Significance of “African Magic” in our Everyday Lives. 

    From the outset, the album houses a spiritual undercurrent: on the opening track “Libations”, Tec and Ghost pay homage to musical forebears such as Victor Olaiya and William Onyeabor, weaving in the idea that legacy, ritual and daily life are intertwined. 

    Processed with VSCO with s2 preset

    In Nigerian everyday life, “magic” is less about fantasy and more about the subtle ordinariness of belief: the stories told during commutes, the juju whispered in cautionary tales, the spiritual backdrop to success or failure. The album taps this: interludes such as “White Juju” (which humorously addresses “AI aka white juju and voodoo”) highlight how technology, mysticism and everyday hustle merge. Thus, Afrika Magik becomes more than just an album—it becomes a map of how African spiritual aesthetics, cultural memory and modern life co-exist. The nods to old Nollywood films further this: they’re not just nostalgia, they’re cultural signposts reminding us that “fantasy” and “normal life” share the same space in Nigeria.

    Inclusion of Female Voices

    On this album, SDC said UP FEMCO!!

    This album has more female features in contrast to their previous albums. One of the strengths of this album is how it elevates female voices and perspectives not merely as features but also as integral presence on this album. Artists like Tems,Moonchild Sanelly, Lulu Winny and Lusanda. Btw Tems and SDC can never do wrong in my eyes. Their collaborations always feel like a harmattan breeze blowing over skin. This inclusion matters because it shifts the album away from simply male rap narratives; it makes space for female texture, influence and presence not just as backing but as foreground. In a society where women’s lives are often the unspoken backdrop, these features lift them into view.

    The Role of Interludes

    Interludes here act as more than mere breathing space; they are dramaturgical and thematic anchors. The “Nollywood Vixens” interlude, for instance, explicitly situates the album in a cultural cinema-space, invoking female archetypes and the interplay of everyday drama with myth. 

    Similarly, “One Chance (Interlude)” and “White Juju” help punctuate the album into acts: the first half often more reflective/romantic, the second more celebratory/expansive. These breaks allow the listener to reset and transition between moods, which is vital given the diverse sonic terrain. This kind of album-craft is deliberate: SDC treat the album like a film.

    Standout Tracks

    Libations: A powerful opener that declares their place, name-checking legendary Nigerian artists and setting tone. 

    Small Chops and Champers: Do I need say more about this track?? What a track guy!! It gave everything it was meant to give. Just give me small chops and champagne joor .

    I’ll Wait: A perfect outro to a perfect album.

    Pressure (FT Taves): Taves was literally flexing on this track. He almost stole the song from them (just my opinion tho). The beats also in this track too>>>>.

    “Magik (ft Moonchild Sanelly): Experimental Rhythm, connects South African + Nigeria, bridges hip-hop, kwaito and the albums theme of “magic”.

    Experimental Tracks & Production & Writing

    One of the hallmarks of Afrika Magik is its fearless blending of genres: highlife, palmwine music, hip-hop, alté, amapiano, R&B.

    The production was handled by longtime collaborator Spax, with contributions from Guiltybeatz, Genio and Yinka Bernie. Instrument such as guitar riffs, horns, soft percussion, log drums (especially on the closer) bring a live-feel, organic layer. The writing is rich. Dialogues with past legends, personal journeys, street-life, love, ambition. The lyrics on “Send a Text” for example, become conversational and reflective. 

    Experimentally, tracks like Magik (with its kwaito bounce) or masterkey (mixing R&B/hip-hop with American singer Mereba) push SDC outside their previous safe zones. The interludes themselves are creative experiments—cinematic skits, voice-overs, nostalgia refracted into sound. Thematically and sonically, the album is both wide and deep.

    Verdict

    Afrika Magik is a strong, multifaceted album. It doesn’t just sound good, it feels rooted, culturally attuned and ambitious. Show Dem Camp manage to honour the past (the musical and cinematic traditions of Nigeria), include new voices (especially female collaborators) and explore new sonic territory without losing their identity.

    For a Nigerian listener, the album works on many levels: it’s a soundtrack to everyday life—party, reflection, hustle, love, belief. It’s also a mirror of how African magic (in its broadest sense) lives in the margins, in songs, in gatherings, in the interludes of life.

    If I have a caveat, it’s that the length (17 tracks) and the variety means that at times the pacing could feel uneven. Some transitions are bold; some tracks may require several listens to fully land. But that is a small trade-off for the album’s ambition and the rewards it offers.

    Score: 4/5

    If you’re looking for a project that offers depth, nostalgia, and fresh collaborations, Afrika Magik is more than worth your time. For SDC fans it’s a meaningful continuation; for newcomers it’s a compelling entry point into what Nigerian rap and Afro-fusion can sound like in 2025.

  • When Whispers Turn Deadly: Burner Accounts and the New Afrobeats Drama

    When Whispers Turn Deadly: Burner Accounts and the New Afrobeats Drama

    By Femi Bakinson

    Burner accounts are anonymous or fake social media profiles used to share opinions, spread gossip, or leak private information without revealing the person behind them. Unlike official artist pages, they operate in the shadows, often dropping “receipts,” screenshots, or unverified claims that fuel speculation. In fan cultures worldwide, from K-pop to hip-hop, burners have become a powerful tool to shape narratives. In Afrobeats, they’re now central to how drama unfolds, bypassing labels, PR teams, and sometimes even the artists themselves.

    The Afrobeats industry has always thrived on whispers. Rumors of collaborations, secret studio sessions, and private fallouts often travel faster than the songs themselves. But in today’s digital era, whispers don’t stay whispers for long, they morph into screenshots, burner accounts, and viral threads. This new rumor economy is reshaping the culture in real time.

    The recent controversies involving Omah Lay and Rema, and the never-ending Burna Boy and Wizkid rivalry, are prime examples of how a culture of anonymous leaks and unverified revelations is reshaping not only fan conversations but also the reputations of some of Afrobeats’ biggest stars.

    Earlier this month, screenshots allegedly from a burner account linked to Omah Lay began circulating online. The account, which had operated under the handle “Story of an Angel,” posted iMessage chats that appeared to show Omah Lay sharing an album concept with Rema back in 2023, an idea that, months later, seemed to resurface in Rema’s own project. What made fans believe this anonymous account was connected to Omah Lay were subtle clues: the account’s intimate knowledge of his creative process, posting patterns that aligned with his public statements, and a writing style that mirrored his previous social media presence. The validity of the chats has not been confirmed, and neither artist has publicly addressed them. Yet that hasn’t stopped the story from dominating headlines, fueling debates about creativity, trust, and betrayal in the music industry.

    Similarly, the Burna Boy and Wizkid dynamic has long been amplified by anonymous accounts and whispered claims. From subtweets to alleged burner accounts dropping “receipts,” their rivalry thrives on ambiguity. Even when neither artist speaks directly, “stans” and blogs seize on fragments, turning them into narratives that dominate timelines. The absence of confirmation only deepens speculation, as silence is reinterpreted as strategy.

    This is the peculiar power of burner accounts: they bypass traditional gatekeepers i.e the labels, PR teams, even the artists themselves and deliver raw claims straight into the bloodstream of fan culture. With one post, they can tilt the narrative, turning speculation into per deceived truth. And because these accounts are anonymous, there is little accountability if the claims turn out to be false. The court of public opinion moves faster than facts.

    The stakes extend far beyond hurt feelings. In an industry where global streaming numbers, international collaborations, and brand endorsements can make or break careers, reputation damage can translate into real financial losses. When whispers suggest an artist has stolen concepts or betrayed collaborators, it doesn’t just affect fan perception, it can influence label executives, booking agents, and potential collaborators making decisions worth millions of dollars. This raises a difficult question: how much weight should we give to revelations that emerge in this way? On one hand, burner accounts and leaked screenshots can sometimes expose real injustices whether unpaid royalties, broken promises, or unacknowledged collaborations. They provide fans with an insider’s view of an industry that often operates behind closed doors. On the other hand, they also create fertile ground for misinformation, where private tensions are amplified into public scandals before anyone has had a chance to verify the details.

    The result is an environment where reputation is increasingly fragile. An artist can wake up to find years of work overshadowed by a screenshot, with no way of proving or disproving its authenticity. Even silence becomes risky. If Omah Lay and Rema remain quiet, fans will interpret that silence as confirmation. If Burna Boy or Wizkid ignore burner chatter, their fanbases fill the vacuum with competing interpretations. In a culture dominated by leaks, the narrative is rarely controlled by the people at the center of it.

    Burner culture also changes the relationship between fans and artists. Afrobeats audiences are no longer passive listeners; they are detectives, piecing together timelines from tweets, interviews, and leaked messages. The fandom becomes a whisper network of its own, feeding on half-truths and speculations, sometimes with more energy than the music itself. This dynamic can be exciting, creating a sense of insider knowledge and community among fans. But it can also be corrosive. When gossip outpaces art, the focus shifts from creativity to controversy.

    This pattern isn’t entirely unique to Afrobeats, hip-hop has long featured diss tracks and public feuds. But where traditional rap beefs played out through official releases and public statements, Afrobeats drama increasingly unfolds through anonymous accounts and unverified leaks, making it harder to separate performance from genuine conflict, strategy from spontaneous emotion.

    The irony is that Afrobeats is entering its most professional era yet, artists are signing global deals, filling stadiums, and charting internationally. But beneath this polished surface, the machinery of gossip is more chaotic than ever. In many ways, burner accounts represent the growing pains of an industry that is both local and global, informal yet professional. They expose the gaps between how the industry is managed publicly and how it operates privately.

    Finding Balance in the Noise

    What is needed now is balance. Fans should be cautious in how much they elevate unverified claims, understanding that screenshots can be fabricated and anonymous accounts may have ulterior motives. Media outlets must resist the temptation to treat every screenshot as gospel, remembering that the pursuit of clicks cannot come at the cost of fairness. And artists themselves need to adapt, understanding that in an era of leaks, transparency and proactive communication may be the only way to stay ahead of the rumor mill.

    At its best, the whisper network surrounding Afrobeats reflects the passion of its community. It shows how deeply fans care about not just the music but the stories behind it. But left unchecked, it risks becoming a culture that thrives more on suspicion than celebration.

    Burner accounts will not disappear; anonymity has always been a powerful tool for those seeking to share sensitive information without facing direct consequences. What matters is how we, as fans, media, and artists, engage with them. Do we treat them as starting points for discussion, or as final verdicts? The difference may determine whether Afrobeats continues to grow on the strength of its music or becomes trapped in the noise of its own whispers. As the genre reaches new global heights, the industry must decide whether it wants to be defined by its art or its rumors. The whispers will always be there. The question is: are we listening to the right voices?

  • Church Roots, City Noise, Global Dreams: Tim Lyre’s “Spiral” Breakthrough

    Church Roots, City Noise, Global Dreams: Tim Lyre’s “Spiral” Breakthrough

    At Outer South, the ethos has always been about pushing boundaries sonically, visually, and culturally. It’s a label that doesn’t just sign artists, it cultivates visionaries. And no artist embodies that spirit more clearly right now than Tim Lyre. 


    There’s a certain momentum building around Tim right now. He’s in full “album mode,” and the energy is infectious. When we catch up, he’s calm, assured, and most importantly, excited. “I’m good, thank you. Thanks for having me on,” he says, smiling. “Things are good right now — album mode gingered.”

    Tim’s new album, Spiral, is more than a body of work. It’s a landmark moment in a journey that began over a decade ago.

    Well, I’d say I’ve been putting out music since 2012 — not when I was 12, that would be crazy,” he laughs.

    But I’ve been around music my whole life. I come from a long line of church musicians — great-grandfather, grandfather, father. From a young age, I was reading music and learning classical theory.

    From a young age, I was reading music and learning classical theory.

    Tim Lyre

    Raised in the cadence of choirs and instruments, Tim was involved in music early.

    Tim- It was like a rite of passage. Everybody had to be in the choir. That environment shaped me. I play piano, guitar, a bunch of instruments, so being around music constantly helped me understand a lot — not just as a vocalist but as a producer and writer too.


    The Chop Life Crew Chapter

    By 2020, Tim was part of a collective known affectionately as Chop Life Crew, a name inspired by Mojo AF and Prettyboy D-O’s celebratory anthem.

    Tim – That name just made sense at the time. Everywhere we went — me, Mojo, Ronehi — people already associated us with it,” Tim explains. “We made it official. I’ve known Mojo and Ronehi since A-levels. We grew together.”

    The collaboration wasn’t just organic; it was transformative.

    Tim- It’s definitely impacted my music. When you grow with like-minded people like Mojo and Ronehi, it pushes you. If you listen to the music, you hear the growth in production, in storytelling, everything.

    The chemistry, particularly between Tim and Mojo, is evident — especially on “Villagio,” a standout on Spiral.

    Tim- We’ve worked together since uni. That kind of familiarity builds instinct. I don’t have to overthink when I’m working with Mojo. I just see what he’s vibing to, and we go. He’s the best rapper in the country, as far as I’m concerned.


    Introducing Spiral

    Tim’s earlier works — worry > and masta — hinted at something bubbling under the surface. With Spiral, it erupts.

    Tim- It’s more expansive than anything I’ve done. More tracks, more subject matter, more storytelling. I’m talking more. And it’s my first double-sided project.”

    More tracks, more subject matter, more storytelling. I’m talking more. And it’s my first double-sided project.”

    Tim Lyre

    Inspired by old-school double-sided CDs, the idea was both nostalgic and strategic. “

    Tim- Some of my favourite albums came like that. I wanted Side A and Side B to feel different sonically, but still connected. Each side tells its own story.

    So, why the name Spiral?

    Tim- Someone once told me spiraling means something negative, like a downward spiral. But for me, it’s about evolution,” Tim explains. “Life unravels — fast. You chase a dream and sometimes miss what’s happening around you. This album is me making sense of everything that’s happened — as an artist, as a person. It’s my evolution.

    Intentional Collaborations

    From Show Dem Camp to Binta, the album’s features are both eclectic and carefully placed.

    Tim- I’m a studio writer type of artist, so I’m always around other creatives — producers, singers. Some people I connect with online, some through mutual friends. With Binta, for example, we’d been talking since worry < dropped. We finally linked up in London and made ‘Storytime’

    Two standout features — Joshua Baraka (Uganda ) and Manana ( South African) — reflect Tim’s ability to bridge the continent’s sounds.

    Tim- Joshua was unexpected. I love his voice. The label reached out to his team, we were both in London, and it all just aligned. Manana, I’ve never met in person. We connected on Instagram. He sent his part back the same day I sent the song. Crazy.

    Despite producing less than usual, Tim still crafted about 40% of the album’s sound.

    Tim – This time I worked more with others. KC Freeley produced Economy, Lock In, Rocketship. Of course, Ronehi — that’s my long-time guy. We record almost every day. Dare also contributed to this one.

    Bars From Real Life

    Tim even flexes his rap muscles on the album. One of his favorite verses? From “Villagio” with Mojo:

    “My kele just wan go abroad,

    She said she want to hammer, rowo mo japa,

    I say baby what you running from?

    She say baby where I’m coming from,

    I’m tired of niggas, they all do fraud…”

    He laughs.

    That’s real. A real conversation with a babe. She was moving out of the country ‘cause every guy she met was doing fraud. Lagos is not a real place.

    Beyond the Booth: Songwriting and Discovery

    Outside of his own records, Tim is gaining momentum as a songwriter, with credits on Boj’s album and even some work with Adekunle Gold.

    Tim- Writing is new for me, but it’s been fun. There’s less pressure than when I write for myself. I try to step into their perspective. It’s a challenge I enjoy.

    And he’s still discovering.

    Tim – There’s this artist — Braye. Insane. Like a baby Nigerian Chronixx. His project I Wish I Had More Time is what I’ve been spinning lately.

    The Live Experience

    Tim isn’t just releasing music — he’s bringing it to the stage.

    Tim – We’ve got merch coming soon and a live show on September 25th at Camden Assembly — that’s the biggest venue I’ve headlined so far. And we’re planning a show in Lagos towards the end of the year too.

    When asked what he wants fans to take from Spiral, he’s reflective.

    Personally, I hope it helps me break through a certain ceiling. For fans, I just want them to receive it the way I’m giving it — with love. If you’ve followed my music till now, this is just an expansion of all that. And I’m excited.

    As the album builds, one track, Ski, marks a shift in tempo — the bounce kicks in.

    I always wanted to make one of those two-in-one songs,” Tim says. “The first part was inspired by a Boyz II Men song. I wanted to start R&B and then switch to a dancehall vibe. I didn’t know how it would land, but when it was done, I was proud of it.

    From church choirs to Camden stages, from Chop Life Crew to Spiral, Tim’s evolution is unfolding in real time. And if this album is any indication, we’re just witnessing the beginning of his next act.

    By Tosin Tevs for LSTVWW

  • Victony’s Stubborn world tour takes over Koko Camden, London

    Victony’s Stubborn world tour takes over Koko Camden, London

    Ebelebe took the stage at exactly 9pm and the rest is history

    EBELEBE took the stage at the iconic KOKO Camden on Friday night, backed by his band and DJ, ready to run through a vibrant selection from his discography — especially his debut album Stubborn. The Nigerian superstar brought energy, charisma, and everything we came for.

    For me, it was really the dancers that stole the show. Appearing at intervals, they delivered stellar performances to lyrics that practically conjure sensuality. And Vict0ny? He didn’t waste the moment — performing in sync with their every movement like it was all one seamless groove.

    When it comes to production and setlist, one standout for me was the transitions between songs. One thing I’ve noticed in the Afrobeats live scene is how rough those transitions can be. But not here. Vict0ny embodied his creative edge with transitions that felt intentional and smooth, keeping the energy flowing without a single dip.

    By 10 PM, the set wrapped up (KOKO had another event lined up), but it didn’t feel rushed. From start to finish, the audience was locked in, riding every beat. Vict0ny was the perfect leader for his Outlaw nation — myself included.

    And this chant? It’s still in my head.
    TONY, WE WANNA PARTY!!

    Images by : Mubayii for LSTV WW

    Written by Lanre Shonubi for LSTVWW

  • Dear Lojay, Is ‘Somebody Like You’ on the Album? When’s the Drop? Who’s on It?

    Dear Lojay, Is ‘Somebody Like You’ on the Album? When’s the Drop? Who’s on It?

    From a big Grammy nomination to his first single of the year—Lojay is clearly gearing up for something major. And if I had to bet? We’re getting an album.

    Now, I’d be lying if I said I could predict what this pen god is about to bring on his debut album, but from the rollout of Somebody Like You, it smells like experimentation. Lojay might just be stepping into new sonic territory with this one. And while we wait, we need a follow-up feature with his longtime collaborator, Chris Brown, plus a few unexpected surprises. But first things first—where’s the album title and release date? We need answers.

    On Somebody Like You, Lojay effortlessly crosses genres, fusing Afro-Latino influences with a lead guitar melody that pulls us right back home. And with Sarz—a certified legend—on production, this is exactly the kind of teaser that makes us want more from him on the full project.

    What if I gave you love to my ceiling?”—a standout line that lingers long after the track ends.

    Lyrically, Lojay pours his entire heart out to a heartbreaker. “What if I gave you love to my ceiling?”—a standout line that lingers long after the track ends. The song is packed with raw emotion, layered with questions and regrets, as he hopes to find someone just like her. But seriously… who broke the Pen God’s heart?! Because now, he’s unstoppable.

    Lojay for the Grammys
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