M.anifest Solidifies His Legacy as a Storyteller on ‘New Road and Guava Trees’

M.anifest is constantly evolving. Accruing “African rap great” status off the back of his conceptually rich tapes and albums, the 42-year-old Ghanaian rapper is a maverick. On the day we speak over a Zoom call, he's wearing a fly purple shirt and large, quaint rings — several of them — on his left hand. Sipping from a water can, he speaks with the masterful ease of an artist assured in his process. One finds sufficient proof on New Road and Guava Trees, M.anifest's sixth full-length project, released via Mass Appeal.

"It's an evolution of the mindstate," says M.anifest about the connection between New Road and Guava Tress and its preceding album, 2021's Madina to the Universe. "For me to move forward, I look back. So, usually, I'm triggered by something from the past. On New Road, when I began this, I had a clear sense of what I wanted to achieve with the album before I had a sense of what the album was. I wanted to feel like I've done this for a while, but I need to chart a new path. So when the idea came to me, it was perfect."

Working out the concept of New Road and Guava Trees, M.anifest would come to see the titular allusion as a double entendre. Beyond the reference to where he came from, he was really charting a new road and "really trying to make a fruitful climb," he says. "It's also related to my childhood — there was a guava tree in my house that was sentimental to me because we loved it, and I grew up in a place called New Road."

"Even all the accidents that happen come from intentional experimentation," says M.anifest about curating the unique sonic tapestry of the album. "I've always tried to embody hip-hop, but with an African essence. And with African music, one's looking at what one grew up on. I've always tried to hybridize in the most innovative way, and when I sat down with my producer, Budo, we were just kind of in sync, wanting to shine a new essence. Sonically, it's always architecture for me."

This architecture also partly comes from the features that are always integral to every one of his albums. On New Road and Guava Trees, he collects a mosaic of unique voices that create a multi-genre experience, thereby flavoring the album beyond its conceptual leanings. It's easy to miss at first, but while the artists on New Road are young, they're many years and iterations deep into their music, confident in what they want to create. From the Nigerian brother duo The Cavemen and Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist Flea to ex-Sauti Sol frontman Bien and Ghanaian dancehall revelation AratheJay, the collaborators here are well seasoned, and ever the perfect chef, M.anifest makes sure the album's pot doesn't boil over.

In a recent post on X (formerly Twitter), revered South African lyricist A-REECE praised M.anifest's writing, calling him "truly gifted." Both rappers had collaborated on two records off A-REECE's album, "WEST AFRICA TIME" and "CHAMPION," rubbing bars with masterful finesse and showcasing great chemistry. On "Safe Place," they go for the three-peat, a successful showcase that vivifies M.anifest's long alliance with hip-hop savants from parts of Africa.

"The music and features always lead that part of my process. We create things that really call certain people," M.anifest says with a laugh. "In my work, in life, I'm always pushing to be around some of the most inspired people. So whenever we're making stuff, either we're there in person, or I begin without them."

TOBi

Speaking to M.anifest, one hears the result of years of deliberate education and artistic awareness. It's a trait that's been present since his early years, no doubt influenced by his maternal grandfather, J. H. Kwabena Nketia, a celebrated ethnomusicologist and composer. "I grew up in the same household as him," says the rapper, "so I was surrounded by what his profession and lifestyle musically [looked like]. For instance, in the house, there were a lot of cassettes of African music, vinyl records and books. I wasn't studying those, but I used to go through his cassettes to find empty spaces to record my hip-hop."

M.anifest didn't think much of it, but that search for empty cassettes led him towards music discovery. "It subconsciously influenced me, especially when I grew older," he affirms. Outside, the booming sounds of hip-hop emerged from neighborhood cassette shops, and Ghana Broadcasting Corporation played the first rap song M.anifest would hear on the radio. It was LL Cool J's 1987 hit song "I Need Love," whose famous opening lyric is: "When I'm alone in my room, sometimes I stare at the wall," he raps now, becoming, even if briefly, a child again.

Being pulled into the art form of hip-hop was seamless, he says. As a teenager, he started writing raps and, like many, belonged to a rap group in high school. "But I was trash," he says, laughing. Obviously, by the time M.anifest's debut album Manifestationsarrived in 2007, he was a stronger wordsmith, but where he really expanded on some of his major themes was on subsequent tapes like Immigrant Chronicles: Coming to Americaand Apae: The Price of Free.

His ability to craft fully realized songs emerged on the latter project. More than just a lyricist, M.anifest infused an inimitable Ghanaian flavor into records like "Ebei (Dream Killers)" and "No Shortcut to Heaven," featuring the legendary hiplife artist Obrafour. When Nowhere Cool was released in 2016, M.anifest had already established himself as an African rap great. However, with the realities of a new streaming audience, the project reintroduced his impeccable prowess at combining words and ideas. Taking the title from a poem by the iconic Ghanaian writer Ama Ata Aidoo, the rapper has described Nowhere Cool as his best project yet. It's a formidable showing of the intellectual gravitas he brings to the scene.

Asked about where that brilliance comes from, the rapper attests that "it comes from a myriad of places, but firstly, it comes from hip-hop." "Hip-hop was a learning ground for me: I learned about Brooklyn from Biggie, California from ‘Pac. People could express their thoughts on anything, whether it's their neighborhood or other issues. Hip-hop fertilized the ground first to let me know that you could tell any story and tackle anything. Many genres are kind of safe; hip-hop didn't feel safe. It felt like an intellectual battlefield put in the art."