Epochal cultural moments are rarely, if ever, grasped or appreciated in the moment. Instead, we drift about, swirling in underappreciation for what we believe to be mundane, completely failing to register the magnetism of the moment. Only in retrospect, the elucidating quality of time having brought the magic of that era into focus, do we finally grasp the magnificence of that moment. This is a phenomenon that transcends cultural moments. How many times have you excavated a memory from your past, and nostalgically longed for such simple, magical times? But thinking harder, sifting through layers of memory for the granular details, the hard facts, you realize that at the time, you hardly considered said event to be special or a potential candidate for nostalgic gratification. Such is the paradox of memory. We constantly juxtapose the present against the backdrop of a past viewed through rose-tinted lenses, and an idealized future. And so, the present almost always pales in comparison, until it recedes in time, falling into the canon we categorize as the past. Only then can we afford the privilege of nostalgia and notice the speckled expanse of magic we had previously failed to register.
Afrobeats in 2024 decidedly stands out for its languorous nature. Hits were scarce. As were breakout stars and international moments. There are reams of articles, tweets, and TikTok videos bemoaning this state—of general lethargy punctuated by spasmodic bursts of excitement. But what many fail to realize is that this sedate state in many ways belies the start of a new era for the soundscape.
Death and life are often portrayed and thought of as diametric opposites, rapidly diverging lines that never overlap. But in reality, more than anything, these twin forces represent a cycle. Death very often precedes the start of new life. This is the case with seeds that have to be buried and die before new life sprouts. And life as we know it only has significance on account of the hovering possibility of death. Similarly, 2024 marked the dissolution of the Amapiano-led order and the sprouting of a luxuriant expanse of new sounds. Just as the Renaissance, which initially represented an efflorescence of creative thinking, later devolved into a plagiaristic regurgitation of the same ideas, giving way to the free-flowing sensibilities of the Baroque period; the unanimous dissatisfaction with the way Afrobeats artists thoughtlessly appropriated Amapiano, has opened the way for new sounds to flourish.
Rema’s darkly enigmatic salad of old and new, local and foreign, nostalgic and experimental, is perhaps the most striking example of the wave of sonic shifts that washed over the scene last year. Heis represents the most fruitful attempt at sonic experimentation Afrobeats has witnessed in quite some time. It shines not just for its pointed experimental slant, or its grand visions for the future of the genre but also for the way it richly references the past, capturing the essence of a long-past era and reflecting it through a contemporary, cosmopolitan lens. Heis is very Nigerian, very faithful to traditional Afrobeats sonic forms but it also mines from a wildly varied slew of influences. Opium music. Traditional East African music. Psychedelic Folk. Indie Rock. The result is a work of art that is as true to Nigeria as it is to the rest of the world.
The commonality present within the myriad sounds of last year, is the way they each reference old sounds while suffusing them with a newness that resonates with the zeitgeist. Gospel music is one such sound that benefited from this tendency for reimagination. Wizkid and Asake played around with this trope on their debut collaboration MMS. On Troubled Mind, the opening track of Wizkid’s Morayo, he leans further into this leitmotif. Omah Lay’s Moving, with its syncopated percussion, feels straight out of a praise and worship session from the late 2000s. Fireboy’s Iseoluwa and BurnaBoy’s Higher also draw on the contemplative themes and the poignant melodies of Gospel.
Fuji and Apala were perhaps the biggest winners last year. DJ Tunez’ Apala Disco sees Wizkid, Terry Apala and Seyi Vibez reimagine the titular genre from a modernized lens. Asake’s Lungu Boy is generously laden with spruced-up reimaginings of Fuji. Wizkid’s Morayo, by dint of songs like Kese, Karamo and Troubled Mind, leans into Fuji and Traditional Yoruba Folk music. Electronic music, steadily gaining momentum in underground scenes across Lagos and Abuja, also stepped into the spotlight last year, through interesting fusions like the Sarz-produced Uhh Yeahh from Asake’s Lungu Boy.
In music conversations, 2024 has been almost unanimously censured as an aberration in recent Afrobeats history, canonized by its historic sparseness of crossover hits and breakout stars. While the facts are indisputable—Afrobeats did struggle commercially—numbers alone do not tell the complete story. 2024 is undoubtedly the most significant year in Afrobeats this decade, because, for the first time since the turn of the decade, artists and producers were forced to reckon with the monotony that had set in since Amapiano became a staple in 2020, and instead employ a more eclectic sonic palette. The cultural renaissance that started last year, marked by intense experimentation and cross-pollination of old and new musical sensibilities, marks the start of a fresh chapter in Afrobeats, and this year, the picture will only come into sharper focus.
