THE JOURNAL

Nigerian music is some of the best in the world. You need only to look back at artists such as Mr Fela Kuti, Mr Tony Allen and King Sunny Adé (to name a few) – all groundbreaking musicians who propelled Afrobeat and African pop respectively to international followings in the 1970s and 1980s.
At the start of the 21st century, much of Nigeria’s cultural output was still being relegated by British and North American mainstream media and consumers to the culture-flattening “world music” label. However, over the past five years, things have changed in a big way. From the rise of genres such as Afroswing in the UK to the global takeover of artists such as Tems, Wizkid and Ms Tiwa Savage, lithe Afrobeats sounds are finally getting their due. When Burna Boy performed at Glastonbury last month, a huge crowd in the English countryside sang back to him in Yoruba and pidgin. The vibrant and varied music inspired by Nigerian culture has been hitting the world with no signs of slowing down.
Here, we speak to three artists of Nigerian heritage who are producing boundary-pushing songs that should be dominating your playlists this summer and beyond.
FLOHIO

“As Nigerians, you’re singing church music from the womb,” says the southeast London artist Ms Funmi Ohiosumah. “When you’re born, the hospital drip is feeding you music and musical notes. We are art. It’s inevitable that the sound was gonna travel and go crazy.”
Known as FLOHIO, she was born in Lagos, but moved with her family to Bermondsey when she was nine years old. In the UK she quickly fell in love with Channel U, a satellite TV channel that focused on the British grime scene, became obsessed with the American rapper Lil Wayne and met some huge names in Nigerian music, such as the songwriter JJC and the singer Wizkid, via her older sister who was working as an events promoter in London.


At her local youth centre, FLOHIO started making her own music. That culminated in 2016 in her debut EP, Nowhere Near. She has become known for her distinctly futuristic sound, which matches searing, pummelling, quickfire rap with whirring industrial production in a manner that’s at once raw and sparse, but visceral and energetic. For her first album, out later this year, she leans into warmer, more melodic spaces, with brushes of lush brass and even gospel choirs.
“When you’re born, the hospital drip is feeding you music and musical notes. We are art. It’s inevitable that the sound was gonna travel”
Both of these sonic places, she says, are rooted in her heritage. Although much black British music has been influenced by this country’s links to the Caribbean, FLOHIO points out that West Africans have long been integral parts of the music universe (think the soulful sounds of Sade and many of rap and grime’s biggest players). “If you look into the UK scene, there were a lot of young Nigerians and they were dominating,” she says, “Let’s look at Skepta. Let’s look at JME. All these guys are Nigerian. A lot of Nigerians have been pushing the culture from way back.”


She nods to growing up going to church and the live bands that were standard at Nigerian hall parties. “There’s no sound system,” she says, “You go to a kids’ party, you go to an auntie’s wedding, it’s a live band.” She wanted to channel those memories and melodies on her album. “We love melodies,” she says. “I guess that’s why everyone loves Afrobeats. You’re always singing along and dancing because it’s got those sweet melodies. Me, I can die over melodies. My old stuff is very heavy, but I wanted to cool it down a bit on the sonics aspect of this album. I was thinking, ‘How are we gonna play this on stage?’ I would love to have some of these live bands on stage with me.”
The album, she says, is rooted in what she calls “arcade nostalgia”. FLOHIO has fond memories in both Lagos and London of gathering in the front room with her friends and family, playing video games, listening to her dad’s vast CD collection or, later, Lil Wayne, and eating. “Some of those kids are not alive today,” she says, “Some of them are doing well, but whatever it might be, I still cherish those moments. They sparked something in me.”
Years later, her album looks set to spark something in its listeners this summer.
BOJ

“I’m not gonna lie. I definitely thought it was possible.”
Mr Bolaji Odojukan is wondering whether he had conceived of the global dominance of Nigerian artistry when he first started out. Speaking from his studio in Lagos, he concludes that, while he didn’t know when it would happen, he is not surprised. “I believed in what we’re doing,” he says. “I believed in the creativity that was around me. There was too much. Things were just falling into place, so I’m very happy to witness what’s going on and to be involved.”


Known as BOJ, the singer, songwriter and producer who was raised between Lagos and London, is in the global West African music vanguard, not least due to his work with TeeZee and FreshL as a member of the rap group DRB LasGidi. BOJ is considered a pioneer of Alté, the Nigerian alternative scene that is less a genre, more a philosophy. “It’s literally just freedom of expression, no boundaries,” he says. It runs parallel with the emergence of better internet access in the country (“Spotify only just launched in Nigeria, like, last year”) and a burgeoning youth movement, which has prompted protests such as #EndSARS, a pushback against police violence in the country.
“It’s part of the same thing,” says BOJ. “As Africans, you’re taught to listen to what the older person is telling you to do. You were never allowed to think for yourself. You had to just follow instructions. It’s only recently that the youth have started to find a voice and express [themselves] freely.”
“It’s literally just freedom of expression, no boundaries… It’s only recently that the youth have started to find a voice and express [themselves] freely”
As Nigerian creativity continues to connect with people across the world, BOJ is looking beyond his own music. “I’m really trying to create platforms for new artists to come and flourish, and to solidify this bridge and link between our two worlds,” he says. “I see myself going into the back end of music. I’ve been studying the business the past few years. I’ve been independent most of my career, so I know the struggles and the things that weren’t there that should have been there. I want to make sure that those things are there for the next guys coming through, making things easier.”

He smiles. “The talent on this side of the world is unmatched and everyone needs to see it. The music needs to be fucking everywhere and I just want to be part of making that happen.”
TeeZee

“It’s always about, ‘How do I bring the community through?’ It’s not just about one’s self.”
The self-professed “fresh prince of LasGidi”, Mr Teni Zaccheaus Jr, otherwise known as the artist TeeZee, is calling from Los Angeles, where he’s making moves so big he’s not allowed to talk about them yet. Suffice it to say, like his friend, collaborator and fellow DRB LasGidi member BOJ, TeeZee is at the forefront of getting Nigeria’s nuanced culture out on an international level. There’s his music, as well as The Native, the media platform and festival he co-founded with Mr Seni Saraki, which seeks to give voice to Nigerian artistry in the correct context.

Arrested By Love, TeeZee’s euphoric debut EP, is influenced by his experience of moving to London from Lagos in his late teens, but also by the boundless Alté spirit. Arrested By Love pulls from all manner of genres (grime, R&B, hip-hop, pop) to create hefty and heady, incisive bangers.
“Sonically, I really wanted to show this sporadic vibe to what’s going on in Nigeria,” he says. “I feel like people just expect one kind of music. They think everything has to sound the same for it to be Nigerian, but Nigeria is one of the biggest, most populated countries in the world. There’s gonna be people who are just making Afropop, but there’s people who do drill, techno. Lagos is a city that’s full of vibrance and so many different vibes. I didn’t want anyone to expect me to box myself into one specific sound.”
“Some people’s roles are to be the superstars and break the doors that way. Some people’s roles are to be in the background making the infrastructure, building communities”
As with BOJ’s album, the EP features a number of artists of Nigerian (or West African) descent, such as the rappers Knucks and Pa Salieu and the singer-songwriter Davido. But he’s also interested in connecting with Nigerians across the industry more broadly. “I’m trying to work with as many Nigerians or people of Nigerian descent,” says TeeZee, “to make sure that the story is really holistic, not a fad.”
He points to the support that people such as Mr Ovie Soko from Love Island or the actor Mr Damson Idris have had in recent years. “For the most part, Nigerians are really supportive of our own,” he says, “Nigerians want to see you succeed in some way.”

This perhaps explains the sustainable approach he and his peers have when it comes to the international music industry. “People coming through need to break the doors down and I feel like that’s kind of happening,” he says, “Some people’s roles are to be the superstars and break the doors that way. Some people’s roles are to be in the background making the infrastructure, building communities.”
TeeZee looks set to occupy both those roles. The Native is putting out a compilation record later this summer that champions a variety of Nigerian artists across the globe (“It’s a soundtrack to our world”) and he says he wants listeners to “give all forms of Afrobeats more of a chance”.
TeeZee is excited for what comes next. “Seeing the amount of people getting international record deals, people doing well on TikTok, I think it’s gonna keep growing and growing,” he says. “It’s Nigeria and West Africa to the world! I’m just glad I’ve worked myself into this position and God has given me this opportunity to be one of the frontrunners of that. It’s gonna be a really sick next few months, or years, or eternity.”