LSTVWW

Tag: LSTVww

  • Victony: The Long Way to STARLIFE

    Victony: The Long Way to STARLIFE

    Loook Issue 01 | September, 2026

    Words & Interview: Fortune Ibeh

    Created with RNI Films app. Profile ‘Agfa Optima 200 v.3’

    Over a Google Meet call slated for an hour, the leader of the Outlaws joins us at exactly 1:30 p.m. sharp, sounding remarkably relaxed. There is no sense of ceremony to it. No stiff introductions or carefully rehearsed answers. Within minutes, what was meant to be an interview begins to feel more like a conversation between people catching up.

    And, gracefully, we let it.

    By the time we really get into it, Victony has already settled into the room.

    Starlife has been out for a few days now, which means the wait is finally over. The songs are no longer just his. They’re being played in cars, at parties, through headphones, onstage and, inevitably, debated across charts and timelines. After months of anticipation, the album has left the safety of his hands and entered the world.

    So, naturally, we start there.

    How is he feeling? He laughs, thinks for a moment, and the conversation begins to open up. Soon, we’re talking about the album, but also everything that came before it: Outlaw, Stubborn, Very Stubborn, the accident that became an indelible part of his story, the people who helped shape this new chapter, and the freedom he seems to be finding in it.

    For our first Loook Issue, powered by LSTVWW, London, Victony sat with us to talk through that evolution, what it took to get here, and what it feels like to finally enjoy the life he spent years fighting for.

    He has spent his whole career chasing one thing, and he’ll tell you himself if you ask him plainly enough. Not excellence, not a lane, not even a sound. Freedom. From Outlaw’s early defiance through the open wounds of Stubborn and Very Stubborn, each era has been another version of that pursuit, a young artist finding new and increasingly honest ways to express himself.

    Starlife feels different. The fighting has quietened a little. The trauma isn’t gone, but it no longer has to take centre stage. Instead, Victony is choosing to look around, take in the view and enjoy the life he spent years fighting to reach.

    Maybe that’s the easiest place to begin: not with where he is now, but with everything it took to get here. Because Starlife doesn’t exist in isolation. It carries traces of every version of Victony that came before it, even as he seems increasingly comfortable leaving some of them behind.

    Starlife is out now, but I want to rewind a little. When you look at the journey from Outlaw to Stubborn, Very Stubborn and now STARLIFE, what has that transition actually felt like for you

    It’s me just growing right as a person, learning and learning, and I feel like there’s been so much real life reflection in the music, right from Stubborn to Very Stubborn, and to star life, it kind of just shows you where my head space is at, but overall it’s just been me, it just felt like growth, to be honest, through this different process, so yeah.

    Starlife feels very different in spirit. There’s a looseness to it, almost like you’re allowing yourself to enjoy the view a little more. Was that something you consciously felt while making it, or did you only recognise it when the album was finished?

    Yeah, I think it came from the song, Starlife.

    You know, when we made the song Starlife, it somehow just happened to be, like, the core of everything that I was making, you know, very unintentional. But long story short, we wanted to do an EP first, and we decided to call the EP Starlife, I don’t know why to be honest. I guess it just connected and resonated with us at the time, the way the song was and with a couple songs at the time, you could feel all the elements of other songs in Starlife, so it just became the core of everything we were trying to build and then we transitioned into a mixtape it was still going to be called Starlife and finally transitioned into an album, it didn’t change the name.

    Seems like you made Starlife before Slick and Fresh was that the case?

    Yes, Slick was the last song we made and that’s what made me decide, you know what, let me turn this into an album. Because to be honest, till June, July, it was supposed to be a mixtape.

    I feel like you could still get that mixtape energy from the rollout and how quick we went to put out the album.

    I decided to turn it into an album because I wanted people to take the music very serious, because time and effort had gone into production, writing and making sure, like, everything sounds good. And I felt like, yeah, this is above mixtape, feels like an album, but everything else around the energy surrounding the release of this project has been very, very mixtape, I won’t lie.

    How long did it take you to get the full album, the 15th track?

    I’d say about 7 months, yeah.

    That took a while. Interesting.

    If you zoom out and look at the journey, there’s a pretty striking progression: Outlaw, Stubborn, Very Stubborn, and now STARLIFE. Each title feels like it captures a different version of you. When you look back at those eras, what do you see?

    I mean the goal has always been the same, I felt like all I have always wanted for myself in this life is to be really free, and so every version of myself that I look at is just me making an attempt to be free, it’s just been in that chase for freedom.

    So, when you look at Stubborn, it’s like the same thing, and the process for putting out Stubborn is very, very similar to STARLIFE, actually. It started up the same way. It was meant to be an EP and then it turned into an album.

    It’s just like, I don’t care, these are the best songs that I have, I’m going to put them together and put out an album regardless of what is expected.

    [He pauses for a moment.]

    So, to be honest, I just see different versions of myself that just really wanted to be free.

    But, obviously, in these three eras of my career, I’ve been in different situations. I’ve fought different battles, I’ve survived different things and I’ve been in different headspace, but it’s still the same kid, just growing, it couldn’t have been any different, based on the people in my life and then the car accident that I dealt with, I mean it’s just me, it’s just freedom, you know.

    Yeah I mean, anyone that pays attention will see the artistic journey and I think yours is very evident.

    You mentioned Slick, was the last song you made on the album. While making, did you think it was going to be this massive?

    No, no, no. I didn’t, to be honest. I mean, I knew it was a good song, right from making it, I remember I was so excited.

    I had doubts, just little doubts.

    I mean, Slick, Slick, the way the chorus was repetitive, I didn’t know if Nigerians were going to fuck with it. It was just very new. Even when I sent it to my Manager at the time, he was already fed up, because I would do this every week where I’d send new songs.

    And it’s like, oh, we have to figure out the thing again. And that’s why we kept moving, like, from EP to mixtape to album.

    So when I sent him Slick, It just felt like too much at the time, for him to process. And I was like, you know, let me just actually chill on this record a little bit. So I think I was planning the shoot for “who this”, and then I played some songs for my videographer and he’s like, “yeah, this is the one, these songs are crazy, it just really puts you, like, in your own lane.”

    And once I heard that, it sparked something in me again. Because that’s really what I wanted to do with this project. To show people what, Victony is capable of and do things, only Victony can do. So once I heard that, I started, like, getting into that zone again.

    I just started playing the record again. I fell in love with it again and I became excited. I say this to say that I didn’t really have the chance to think about what it was going to do.

    It was just that battle of, oh, am I going to put this out? Am I not going to put this out? Just based on everything that was going on at the time. Until I got to a place where I was excited enough to think about the visual, shoot and just put it out, that’s where it stops, but enough in terms of what is it going to do or not, to be honest I didn’t know, I just liked it.

    You just said “ you want people to know what Victony is capable of” and I came across a video of you recently rapping, you used to be a rapper, also found out that you drew the cover art for outlaw, that just shows that there’s a lot to the name Victony, are we going to see a Victony rap song?

    I think I know the video you’re talking about.I was cringing at that video.

    [Laughs]

    No, I doubt, I doubt I’m ever going to be rapping again. I think I found what I’m good at and I’ll just stick to it. But, I mean, you can always just hear, like, the hip-hop influence in my music, one way or the other.

    Like on Starlife, even with the intro song, you hear some, some rap influences, same thing with Slick, right on the hook, and same thing with, Typo and 2Fresh.

    So, I think with Starlife, I try to just show that side of me, which I’m always going to do, in my music, even though I’m a singer, but you’ll be able to tell with, like, certain cadences or, just rhythm or my flow choice or what not, that it is slightly different from, a regular Afrobeat artists.

    So, but in terms of, like, rapping, rapping for real, I don’t know. I’m not sure.

    [We both laugh]

    STUBBORN, had international footprints with features with Teezo Touchdown & SAINt JHN. On STARLIFE you came back home why was it important for you to feature more Nigerian artists on this?

    To be honest, I think it was from me trying to just do this quickly. Because Starlife is a very short phase. It’s not something that I wanted to overemphasize. And that meant doing music with the people that I have genuine relationships with. I got the verses from everybody, really quick. I also knew, these guys would really kill this. I could hear them in that soundscape.

    I also wanted it to be genuine, because I wasn’t going to text anybody or wait for my label to reach out to anybody. Personally, I didn’t care about that in this process. I just believed in the music so much. And I wanted people that I could talk to and people that I can get real time feedback from.

    And that’s what, really, really empowered that decision to just bring it home. It’s just wanting to be really authentic.

    Like I said, Starlife is me, really, really, stepping into myself and doing the things that really makes me happy as a person, and the things that I have easy access to that make me happy.

    And that’s the thing about my relationship with Baby Boy AV. That’s somebody I spend time with every day, same thing with YKB, YKB will come to my house and stay for a week or something. I go to Blaqbonez’ house every other day, and then, if I want something from Bnxn, he’s one text away.

    I had, multiple sessions with Young Jonn at the start of the year. So, these were verses that I could just stretch out my hands to get, and I knew, they would also put in effort because of their level of respect from me.

    But it wasn’t an intentional thing for it to be, like, oh, just only Nigerian features. It just worked out that way because of where I was and how I was just thinking about the process.

    This sounds like Starlife is more like a family thing.

    Exactly

    Hmmm…What does the era Starlife really mean to Victony currently?

    “Starlife” is me talking about the life I’m living right now, but at the same time, it’s also me manifesting the life that I desire. It’s still me fighting for myself, in a sense. Like, in this life, I’m going to be happy. I’m going to get all the good things in life. In contrast to my previous project, Stubborn. It was really personal, and that was also a step in that direction of wanting the best for myself, wanting to step in a very, very positive direction, wanting to step into the light.

    And with Very Stubborn, it was trauma dumping on those records, like, being very open and vulnerable to the fans. And just releasing everything that I’ve held in for so long.

    Starlife is a very different project from that, but it’s still a step in that direction. It’s, like, I’m not going to focus on the negative side of my life now, even if I still battle with those things, every now and then. Starlife is still a fight for my life, to be honest, but in a very, very different direction, it’s me saying, I’m going to step into my happy place.

    This year, I have recorded over a hundred songs, to be honest, all just talking about the same thing, and if I put out a hundred of them, it wouldn’t sound any different from what is on Starlife.

    And that’s how much energy I put into it, just making sure, like, I’m focused on the positive things, I’m not talking about anything negative.

    This era is less about excellence or trying to prove, being the best artist or what, or trying to have the album of the year.

    But it’s really about what I want for myself and that’s why I made these records, just to have fun with my friends, with my fans. You know, I made these records for my shows also.

    Interesting….Your relationship with Ozedikus seems to have become a big part of the Starlife story. You both have worked on a series of songs about 13 or more? You made “FRE$H,” then “SLICK,”. What do you remember about making these two records? And at the time, did you have any idea you were sitting on something that would become this big?

    Actually, I didn’t. This year, making music, One thing I wanted was to allow the music lead, and that’s why I hit up so many producers at the start of the year. I didn’t have a particular direction, I was just making music out of curiosity, I let myself just be in those sessions. I really wanted to tap into different people’s worlds. And with Ozedikus that was the case, I hit him up and I’m like, “bro, let’s have a session”, and to be honest, I didn’t even know what to expect.

    Like, my friend at the time, he was just helping me, reminding me of producers in the game. He’s like, oh, you should work with this person, you should work with this person. So at the time, he was like, okay, let’s work with Ozedikus now.

    Then I hit him up and, you know, Fresh was the first beat I heard when I went to the studio that day. And yeah, we made the song, we made three songs that night.

    I just tried to do a session with him every week. Because, one thing I also wanted to do was to be musically sound.I have as many songs with Ozedikus as I have with PPrime, & Rage.

    I know I have at least ten songs with almost every producer that I’ve worked with this year. So music to me was, similar to ,attending the gym, but, I mean, as much as it was I had to keep recording.

    I also have something special with Ozedikus, with the way he records me, the way he works my vocal stack. He could immediately see the idea or see the end, from the beginning during sessions, and I think that’s what stood out, with Ozedikus. That’s what happened with Fresh, and that’s what gave me the confidence to keep working on more unique ideas with him. Because he knows how to get it done, and just start tailoring it to what you have in mind.

    So with Slick, it was unique, because he sent me a different beat and went to the studio, we tore it down, I did the reference, and had the girls come in and another day, we did the second verse.

    I mean, Slick is one song that, you know, we took time to produce, and that’s so funny because the song is very short compared to the time we used to produce it.

    Quickly, I want to take a step back and appreciate the team behind STARLIFE, from the management team to the creative team (the stylist to the photographers etc), & producers and everyone that worked hard to portray this version of you.

    Ten years from now, when people talk about Victony, what do you hope they remember beyond the songs?

    I want them to remember me for my authenticity, I want them to be inspired by how much of myself I was. I want them to look at me and not care about what people think about them.

    [A brief pause. We sit with that for a moment before circling back to Starlife.]

    Back to Starlife, you made mention that Starlife is a short phase. What should we expect from Victony after Starlife?

    I mean, it’s just going to be growth still. I feel like I’m learning faster and I’m growing faster and that’s why I’m quick to realize what I want for myself. I think you should expect a more matured version of me, a grown version. And that’s what you’re always going to keep getting.

    QUICKFIRE QUESTIONS

    Lagos or London?

    Lagos.

    Starlife Album Art or Stubborn Album Art?

    Starlife Album Art.

    I hope you ain’t picking STARLIFE because it’s out

    No, no, no, no.

    I feel like the album art is the deepest part of the whole thing. In it you see me as a kid with accessories like that, the big chain and the big hats, something that’s meant for, an adult. It just passes a message, what I carry inside me is bigger than I am. So, to me, like, every time I look at that cover, it reminds me of something deep.

    Rapping or Singing?

    Singing.

    Morning or Night?

    It depends, though. Okay, let’s just go with morning, because of how I’m feeling today.

    Naija Babes or Yankee Babes?

    Naija Babes oo

    Gamer or Movie Fan?

    Movie.

    Movies or Football?

    I don’t watch football.

    You don’t watch football?

    [Smiles]

    No, I don’t.

    Oh, gosh! Outlaws need to know this one.

    [we both laugh]

    What’s your favorite country to stay asides Nigeria.

    U.S

    Is the album going on the road? Are you going on tour?

    Definitely, definitely, definitely. Next year.

    Would Africa be experiencing it? Because there’s a rise in more artists coming home to do more shows in Africa with their album.

    Yeah, of course. Benin, Lagos, Abuja, Ghana, Possibly Uganda, Kenya.

    Credits:

    Editor-in-Chief: Lanre Shonubi

    Photography: Danielle Mbonu

    Producer: Ruby Aryiku

    Fashion Stylist: Joel EG

    Co Producer: Vamp Media Agency UK

    Design: Fortune Ibeh

    Writer: Fortune Ibeh | Tobi Oke

  • SOLANA IS WRITING THE FIRST CHAPTER OF YORUPOP

    SOLANA IS WRITING THE FIRST CHAPTER OF YORUPOP

    In Conversation with Tobi Oke

    There is a particular kind of Lagos evening that only makes sense if you understand what it means to be in demand. The kind where your phone has not stopped since morning, where the calendar is stacked, where every notification is someone asking for a piece of you because something you made has started moving in ways you could not have predicted even six months ago. That was the evening I spoke with Solana.

    She joined the call warm and unhurried, which said something on its own. Because by the time we spoke, Okunkun had already done what it did to the internet, and for someone whose evenings were probably now filling up with performance requests and booking enquiries, the version of Solana I met was remarkably unbothered by all of it. Present. Curious. Laughing easily. She had somewhere to be after us, her manager was already circling, and she gave us the time anyway.

    That detail, more than any single thing she said, is what stayed with me.

    Before the timeline found her, before the reposts and the booking requests and the people from countries she has never visited telling her they cannot stop listening, there was just a girl from Lagos making music that felt true to her. Music rooted in Yoruba, in heritage, in the specific texture of a culture that does not need translation to be felt. She was not building a movement. She was just building her sound.

    But movements have a way of forming around the right kind of honesty. And somewhere between the first viral reel and the internet’s attempt to explain what it was hearing, a word appeared. Yorupop.

    It spread the way these things do, in comments, in replies, in the shorthand of people who needed something to call what Solana was doing. Contemporary pop sensibility fused with Yoruba language and cultural identity. A bridge between the traditional and the present. Between where African music came from and where it is clearly going. The internet named it. Solana became its face.

    Her full name is Ogunlana Busolami Habibat. Her stage name came from two pieces of herself, Sola from her first name, Lana from her last name. Simple, personal, and quietly telling of how she moves through everything else. She does not reach for something external to define her. She takes what is already there and shapes it into something that sounds right. Yorupop, it turns out, works exactly the same way.

    She is calling in from Lagos, and when I ask her to paint me a picture of where she is, she almost laughs at the question before answering simply. Lagos. Nigeria. Which, given everything that has happened around her recently, feels like the right kind of grounding.

    “It has been super great,” she says when I ask about life since Okunkun landed. “It went from zero to a hundred and something. The support has been insane. So many people reaching out. Just a really great experience so far.”

    The thing about that sentence is how understated it is for what actually happened. Okunkun did not gradually find its audience. It detonated. Within hours of her second Instagram post, she was watching the views climb and refreshing in disbelief. A thousand. Two thousand. More. She kept asking herself what was going on. The answer, as it turned out, was that she had been right all along about a song that the industry had spent three years telling her was wrong.

    Because Okunkun is not a 2026 song. Solana wrote and recorded it in 2023. She played it for people in the music space. The responses were consistent and discouraging. “They told me, I don’t really think Nigerians are listening to this. This is not a Nigerian sound. I had so many rejections on this song.” She pauses before she continues, and in that pause you can feel the weight of three years of doubt.

    “When you have gotten so many rejections, you start feeling like, am I making the right thing here? But I knew this was a really great record. So I was just feeling, you know what, I am just going to put it out. Whatever happens, happens.”

    What happened was the timeline. What happened was Yoruba-speaking and non-Yoruba-speaking fans alike stopping mid-scroll to ask who this was. What happened was Ayra Starr, Tiwa Savage, and Tems all pressing repost on the same song within days of each other. What happened was people from countries that have never produced a single Afrobeats record messaging Solana to tell her they could not stop listening even though they did not understand a word she was singing.

    “That is what music is supposed to do,” she says. “It is supposed to bring people together. An invitation into indigenous culture. When you listen, you are just in that headspace, enjoying another culture.”

    The cultural conversation around her sound has taken on a life of its own. People online have called it Yorupop. The Lijadu Sisters have been invoked repeatedly in comments and replies, the word reincarnation appearing more than once. Solana receives the comparison with genuine warmth and immediately, gently, steps around it.

    “I would not say my sound is Yorupop. Yorupop is just another expression of who Solana is. It is part of the things that make me. When I was recording, I was just creating something that connects to my heritage, my present generation, my childhood. Yoruba is the language I know, so I am going to express myself in it. But my general sound is not Yorupop. It is just another extension of who I am as an artist.”

    As for the Lijadu Sisters, she is honoured. But she was not tapping from them as a source. She was just being herself, and the lineage found her.

    That line between intention and instinct runs through every part of her creative process, including the part most people do not know about yet. Solana and Killertunes have been working together since 2019. Seven years. Almost every song in her catalogue carries his fingerprints. His brothers are part of her management team. She uses the word family without any performance in it, because that is what it actually is.

    “We have worked for so long that we understand each other’s creativity,” she says. “We understand each other’s sound. We literally just flow. And there is so much stuff we have that people have never heard. They will be like, what.”

    The EP dropping in October is fully produced by Killertunes. Seven songs. No features. Just the two of them, and whatever they have been quietly building together since before most of her current listeners were paying attention.

    Even the visuals, which have drawn their own wave of admiration and dissection online, come from the same unhurried place. I ask her about them because the short-form content around Okunkun feels considered without feeling controlled, and she almost laughs at the implication of a grand strategy behind it.

    “It is literally a family thing. His brothers, his wife, me. We just drive around and look for places to shoot. We dress up, we find somewhere, we shoot. We are just living our lives. So when people are like, how did you plan this, we are just being our normal Tuesday.”

    There is something quietly radical about that. In an industry that rewards the performance of strategy, Solana and her people have built something that looks effortless because it largely is. Not careless. Genuine. And the authenticity, she is clear, is not something to abandon now that it is working.

    “It is the authenticity that drew people in. So why should I stop that?”

    Before we wrap up, because her manager is already waiting and the evening is filling up, I mention that I play COD and she plays Fortnite and we should probably sort something out. She laughs with a confidence that does not need to explain itself.

    “If you come to me in Fortnite, you are going to cry.”

    I kind of believe her. Well until she proves it anyway. 

    The EP drops in a few weeks. Seven songs. No features. Just Solana, Killertunes, and whatever happens when an artist stops asking for permission and starts trusting her instinct.

    Whatever happens, happens. It has been working out well so far.

  • The Devil in Designer: The Good, The Bad, and The Billionaires

    The Devil in Designer: The Good, The Bad, and The Billionaires

    By Meron Fikru

    Sequels are notoriously difficult to pull off; even more so when the sequel is building on the legacy of a beloved cult classic. In the midst of a 2000s nostalgia revival, with global audiences of eager millennials chomping at the bit, The Devil Wears Prada 2 had a high bar to meet. All things considered, I think it’s safe to say that this sequel met the mark. 

    20 years after the first film, our story returns as Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) receives a high journalistic honour at a prestigious awards dinner. Unfortunately for Andy, that joy is short-lived. Moments before, Andy and her team received the devastating news that they had all been laid off and that their publication would subsequently be closing down. Navigating through an onslaught of shock, Andy makes her way onstage to accept her award and takes that moment to lament the importance of journalism in a disappearing industry. As Andy emphatically proclaims: “Journalism still f***ing matters,” 

    Across town, Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) arrives at an event reminiscent of the Met Gala, when news of a scandal at Runway breaks as she begins to walk the carpet. In a quick turn of events, with Andy now back on the job market and Miranda suddenly needing to do damage control at Runway, Andy is brought back into the magazine to lead the Features department. 

    Reunited, Andy and Miranda spend much of the film in a push and pull over what journalism is supposed to look like at Runway. With Andy at the helm of the newsroom, now armed with years of serious journalism experience, she endeavours to put out meaningful, reported pieces. Weighed down with the chairman of Runway’s concerns around engagement, Miranda presses Andy throughout the film to pursue more metrics-focused journalism. Through the lens of capitalism, what is the utility of a story in a mainstream publication if nobody reads it?  

    Scattered throughout the film, a number of well-placed easter eggs serve as callbacks to the original film for its most attentive fans: from the street salesman holding up the two matching belts; the return of the iconic refrain “a million girls would kill for this job”; and Andy re-wearing the same cerulean vest she wore in the original film, in her last scene in The Devil Wears Prada 2. (Although this version was a bit more elevated.) 

    Two decades later, some of the most notable differences are felt in the personas of and relationships across our returning characters. The 2026 version of Miranda comes across on screen as a much softer version of herself. Miranda is much more meek in conversation with new management, and far more pliable in learning the language of body positivity with the gentle but firm adjustments from the new “Emily”, Amari (Simone Ashley). This time around, Nigel (Stanley Tucci) and Andy’s working relationship retained its playfulness with some endearing moments of care. Nigel has maintained his edge over the years, while remaining in his role at Runway as Miranda’s #2. He returns to Andy’s rescue a few times throughout the movie, offering up Runway’s closet for Andy’s trip to the Hamptons, to the end-of-the-film reveal, where we find out he was the person in the head’s ear to get Andy rehired. 

    In terms of one of the newest additions to the cast, the inclusion of Peter (Patrick Brammal) as Andy’s love interest, presents one of my few qualms with the film. Peter is a charming Australian contractor that Andy connects with on a viewing of a new luxury apartment building. After Andy inadvertently insults his work, the two end up exchanging information via Tracie, Andy’s long-term best friend. They go on a couple dates throughout the film, before nearly calling it quits prior to Andy’s work trip to Italy. Although they come back together at the end (in true rom-com fashion), I would argue that this milquetoast romance makes for an extremely unnecessary subplot in this film. It does nothing to advance Andy’s character growth, nor does it move the actual story forward. Quite frankly, Andy does not need him.

    Furthermore, I think the crux of Andy’s character lives in her clear love for her career, and her unwavering commitment to salvaging the industry. Andy represents the quintessential career woman; every other relationship (outside of work) in her life, feels very secondary in her world. Including this relationship feels like a strange choice, considering that romantic love (and particularly, this love) feels so inconsequential for Andy’s character evolution and story. 


    Andy and the original Emily’s (Emily Blunt) relationship was perhaps the most interesting to watch. Emily Charlton is now head at Dior, following an abrupt, compulsory departure from Runway. From the surface, she appears to have found her footing in the luxury retail space. Emily Charlton and Andy end up joining forces to rescue Runway from the McKinsey-style management consulting takeover after the surprise death of the chairman. Emily Charlton’s new billionaire beau, Benji Barnes (Justin Theroux) swoops in to save the day, and the advancement of this premise is where the film loses me. 

    We first see her partner on the cover of a magazine, where, oddly enough, he is glowingly referred to as the “Data Center King”. While there emerges a clear need for capital to rescue the company from the clutches of the son of the chairman, the “good billionaire” bit falls a bit flat when you consider that the very reason that journalism in the U.S. has been decimated is because of the billionaires bankrolling mainstream media. 

    After a surprising betrayal by Emily Charlton, Andy and Miranda band together to finesse a new offer at the last minute and miraculously save Runway. The film closes with the two in a car on the way home, with Miranda giving Andy approval to write the secret memoir on Miranda (because, of course, Miranda has ears everywhere). 

    For a film that had to fill in its narrative world following a 20-year gap, the characters feel like they have grown with their audience. Andy has truly grown into herself and her work with a newfound air of self-assuredness, despite the moments at Runway where we see flashes of her younger self return. After decades in Miranda’s shadow, we even get the opportunity to see Nigel stretch out his wings. 

    The subject matter equally feels to have reached an appropriate maturation; the reckoning with the grief and outrage over a depleted sector is palpable, and very real within and outside of media circles. The conversation this film prompts on the sacrifices made when corporate interests eclipse the arts, and how these decisions have reconfigured the role of journalism in society (commercialization over curiosity), is critical in understanding the gangrene that has spread across the industry. 

    To have premiered the weekend before this year’s controversial, billionaire-sponsored Met Gala, I am reminded of the words of Oscar Wilde, “Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life.” In a tumultuous time for fashion on the big screen and in real life, I can appreciate that the film prompts us to consider what happens to art and fashion under corporate capture. With the film closing on the hint of a memoir on the way, audiences are left to wonder if this is the last we will see of Andy Sachs. 

  • 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.

  • 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

  • Saturday Night Was About Tiwa Savage — And Meltdown Will Never Be the Same

    Saturday Night Was About Tiwa Savage — And Meltdown Will Never Be the Same

    The moment I saw Tiwa Savage listed as one of the headliners for this year’s Meltdown Festival, curated by Little Simz at the iconic Southbank Centre, I knew exactly what I was in for — a time. A time down memory lane, a time of angelic vocals, pure creative energy and nostalgia wrapped in elegance.

    Tiwa’s music has soundtracked so many moments for me. Once Upon A Time, my cousin and I used to drive to my internship in Lagos, blasting her debut album in an old Honda Civic like it was gospel. So, this being my first time seeing her live, the expectations were high — and she met every single one.

    Let’s start with how early she hit the stage — no delays, no fuss — just a cinematic, spellbinding intro that pulled us straight into her world. She opened with “Save My Life” from her Celia album, and from there, it was hit after hit, moment after moment. Sometimes we stood in awe, other times we sat back and let the vocals wash over us.

    And she’s funny too? Tiwa had us cracking up in between songs, throwing in cheeky self-praise that the crowd absolutely ate up. “Talk your sht, girl!”* someone screamed, and we all agreed. She gave love to her mum, her dad, her friends, even her English teacher in the audience — it was giving love, gratitude, and legacy.

    But wait — I’m not even done.
    After the show, I got to meet her backstage and… let’s just say I froze. Cold feet. I said absolutely nothing that made sense. But it didn’t matter. I’d just witnessed the queen of Afrobeats in her full glory.

    Can’t wait to experience her again.
    This one? I’ll remember for a long, long time.

    Images by : Cellotapes for Meltdown Festival 2025

  • Master of His Craft: Tim Lyre Drops a Classic with “Skii”

    Master of His Craft: Tim Lyre Drops a Classic with “Skii”

    Tim Lyre is genre bending and we are here for it

    Fresh off announcing his sophomore album Spiral, the ever-consistent music genius Tim Lyre is back with a follow-up single titled “Skii.”

    At first listen, it feels like a solid hip-hop drop — then Tim flips the script. He delivers a soulful, emotive performance layered over a bouncy Afro-reggae/dancehall beat, reminding us just how versatile his sound really is.

    “Skii” sets the tone for what we can expect from the Outer South forerunner this season — genre-fluid, emotionally resonant, and sonically rich.

    Skii is out now on all streaming platforms.

    Now all that’s left to do is wait for Spiral.