Can Underground Artists Make Nigerian Music Exciting Again?

Where does the life of a Nigerian hit song begin? Some might say it starts with the excavation of the singer’s personal experiences. Their angst, fears, and deepest desires splayed open in the booth and ready for dissection by the public. Others, though, might argue that in a musical climate like Nigeria’s, where the market is driven by the fluctuating popularity of genres, the life of a Nigerian hit song begins somewhere in the underground, far from the stagnating eye of what is mainstream. 

Since Nigeria began to fashion its musical identity by including local musical context and influences, mainstream Nigerian artists have built a strong relationship with its underground music scene. This strategy helps mainstream artists stay in touch with what’s happening on the fringes of popular music and also understand what the next generation of music consumers are saying, feeling, and want to listen to.

While some of Nigeria’s biggest artists have routinely looked to international genres like reggae and pop, this proximity to the underground music scene has been instrumental in ushering in new frontiers of the Nigerian music scene. Underground music movements like street-pop, inspired by elements of rap, Fuji, and Apala, were pioneered by DaGrin and Olamide and further redefined by Asake. Alte music was led by stars like Lady Donli, Odunsi, Cruel Santino, DRB Lasgidi, and later co-opted by stars like Rema, who aided its entry to the mainstream. Underground artists provide Nigerian music with an edge and a specific, unquestionable identity.

Now, at a time when the Nigerian music scene is throwing darts at a board and searching desperately for the next big thing, the underground music scene is once again coming to the rescue. In the next phase of an industry built around a tall order of endless innovation and reinvention, Nigeria’s underground music scene is seeing an influx of vibrant talents, many of whom are working in genres they invented or are spearheading. Simply put, it’s a particularly exciting time to be an underground Nigerian artist.

As many critics, insiders, and consumers have been pointing out, the Nigerian music industry has settled into a curiously stagnating pool of safe hits, zero industry disruptions, and little to no innovation. The vim and grunt of Asake’s breakout era is no longer to be found. And when was the last time we saw an artist with the vibrancy and instant star power that Ayra Starr started with? 

In the past few years, the rise of the breakout Nigerian star has been narrowing. While the reasons might be economic, it is crippled even further by the shaky state of music labels and what role they still play in the fast-changing world of music, where talents are expected to arrive fully formed and ready for the market. 

This is why Nigeria’s underground scene continues to be the industry’s last resort, our next area of incredible discoveries.

What defines the underground?

Nigeria’s underground music scenes operate like open creative playgrounds free of the pressure of charts or label interest. Because these artists are driven by a delight for the experimental and a willingness to disrupt, their music is often less hampered by mainstream standards. Its underinvestment gives it room to be economical yet clever with sound, using identity as a selling point. 

Most recently, a handful of talents have been operating out of the underground. There is Danpapa GTA, a lanky kid with gritty lyrics and an eclectic sound driven by the most esoteric influences. NO11, who infuses laidback amapiano grooves with bouncy rap lines. Before them, there was Mavo, another wiry youngster who invented his own vocabulary and blew up last year for hits like “Money Constant” and “Escaladizzy”. Make the frame wider, and you’ll find talents like Priesst, Fimi, Zaylevelten, Islambo, Igwe Aka, and others who are inventing and playing with form.

“There’s a blur between genres and identities. A lot of these artists aren’t limiting themselves to one sound; they’re borrowing from multiple genres and influences at the same time, and that fluidity feels very intentional,” Tochi Igboko, a Label Manager at WeTalkSound, the distributor working with Danpapa GTA, tells OkayAfrica.

“I’ve also noticed that many of them are starting to produce themselves, which makes a lot of sense,” he explains. “When you have very specific sonic ideas, it can be difficult or even impossible to fully explain that vision to another producer. Producing themselves gives them more control and helps preserve the emotion and detail they’re trying to express.”

Will this moment last?

While the rise of these artists is impressive, it has raised some questions about whether it will be enough to take the industry to the next level. For one, the Nigerian music landscape has changed considerably, with music consumers often divided along lines of chart and hits obsessions, making it much harder for artists to build strong, offline communities or focus on craft versus virality. For many underground artists, the focus on community building has been limited to online spaces, which may not always be strong enough to carry them through.

Music Business and Talent manager Idunnutoluwafunmi Aganga-Williams shares, “These guys have a following, but I don’t know if that following translates to community. To be the frontier, you will genuinely need to have a loyal fan base to propel you to the top and to the front.”

Predecessors of the underground scene had the opportunity to build physical communities by performing at local gathering spaces before expanding their reach online. With a lower barrier of entry and a world designed for instant and easy connection, underground artists often employ a reverse strategy. Williams is particularly concerned that the rising crop of underground talents may be making works solely for the thrill of fleeting virality. “As long as they go viral on tiktok that’s all that matters. There’s a quick-fix pandemic and short attention span on music, and it’s just virality that they’re chasing rather than a music career,” she says.

Still, this year is shaping up to be a productive one for Nigerian underground artists and perhaps for the ecosystem at large. “They’re much more confident and far less interested in fitting into existing industry templates. You can feel that a shift is taking place,” Igboko says. “Even if the exact sound that’s coming out right now doesn’t end up being the final version of what takes over, it’s clear that regular Afrobeats has started to feel boring. This new wave represents curiosity.” 

More importantly, the Nigerian music scene stands to benefit immensely from the inventive approach many of the artists are taking to their work. While it might take some time to build sustainable communities and give their music a cultural legacy, the Nigerian music industry has a lot to look forward to.