Nigeria, West Africa.
The rhythms here go to the heart of their culture.
But Nigeria is just one part of a musical tradition as varied...
..ancient...
and as fascinating as Africa herself.
This is where I really feel at home.
I'm Rita Ray. I'm a DJ.
I'm a music obsessive.
I'm a Londoner. And I'm an African.
And I'm constantly amazed
that we still think we know nothing about the sounds
that come from here.
Sounds from countries as diverse as South Africa,
with its heartbreaking harmonies.
Mali and its ancient melodies.
And Nigeria, home of Afrobeat,
and the driving force of African pop.
But so much of what we listen to in the West has deep roots
and strong connections to the music
that comes from this amazing continent.
They don't call Africa the motherland for nothing.
It's the wellspring of the blues, of jazz, of rock and roll -
this continent has it all.
And living, breathing contemporary music from here
has never been more popular.
It is an incredible time for music in Africa.
So, what are the traditions that created the music I love so much?
Who are the key players?
And where do we need to start the search
for the source of these unique sounds?
Drumming and Africa - so ubiquitous, it's become a bit of a cliche.
But these rhythms really are the foundation of African music.
And there's one country at the beating heart of Africa,
where drumming is a way of life.
I'm here in Nigeria, hot, beautiful, crazy, in-your-face Naija,
to get to the heart of their rhythms.
Rhythms that they have exported all over the world and the beat now
that is dominating the continent.
Nigeria is the powerhouse of African pop music.
This country has been pumping out smash hits since the 1960s.
It's the home of Afrobeat.
And, of course, the late, great Fela Kuti.
But I'll go deep into his legacy later.
The story of Nigerian music is the story of rhythm.
The evolution of a beat that pulses through the continent.
But first, let's go back to the roots of it all.
The ethnic group with the richest drum tradition is the Yoruba.
Most Nigerian popular music contains rhythms drawn from
these ancient ceremonies.
This is an Egungun festival.
And these rhythms aren't just about dancing.
These drums are communicating with the dead.
As the costumed Egungun dance to the beat,
they're thought to be possessed by the spirits of their ancestors
and can pass on blessings....
..and warnings.
It's all pretty disorientating.
I don't know what's going on.
We just started walking up the street, dancing up the street,
suddenly we've got Egunguns coming out from all over the place!
It's like a face-off of Egunguns!
I can't believe it! It's like the whole town's out!
Two key figures in the community are the Ejiogbe twins,
who lead the Egungun festival.
In Yoruba culture, twins have special powers
and are believed to be under the protection of Shango,
the God of thunder, drums and dancing.
It's their job to summon Shango to the ritual.
This drumming is polyrhythmic.
That means each drummer is playing a different rhythm.
There's no beginning, middle and end.
The different beats lock in together to make a pulsing, endless groove.
Trance music has its roots in rituals like this,
and you can see why.
It's not rocket science, it's all very natural that, you know,
these drums, that are imbued with spiritual connotations,
play a rhythm that, basically, if you're open to it,
will help you go to another place.
It's like meditation, isn't it?
All this drumming is really euphoric!
These beats are all about communicating with your ancestors,
both spiritually and culturally.
This ritual has been happening for hundreds of years,
and despite the motorbikes and the mobile phones,
it does feel timeless.
They're totally bonkers!
I'm on my way to the Osun-Osogbo Sacred Grove,
a holy site for the Yoruba people.
Look at these carvings.
As we drove down here, I got a little tingle and a little...
..thrill down my spine because
this is going to the roots of Yoruba culture.
There is one Yoruba drum
that has taken on an almost mythic status in the West.
The talking drum.
Legendary Cream drummer, Ginger Baker,
came here to Osogbo to master the talking drum technique.
He ended up living in Nigeria for six years.
They don't talk with their mouths, they talk with their drum.
And they make people laugh.
It's very, very interesting.
Traditionally, the talking drum is only played by men.
But I'm here to meet Irawo.
She's one of the few women to take on the instrument.
Talking drum is... It mimics the human sound.
The human voice. So it really does talk?
Yes. It talks. Well, we make it talk,
but it speaks what we already know.
If I just create a rhythm, you might not know it,
but it creates...speaks rhythms that are already known.
Like proverbs, idioms, already known.
Can you just show me how you make it talk?
Usual tones and the drums, African drums, generally, is do re mi.
This talking drum has the do re mi in low,
do re mi in middle,
and do re mi in high.
Unlike Western music,
this drum is tritonic, playing three octaves of three notes.
So that's...
DRUM PITCH GETS HIGHER
I pull it in.
SHE PLAYS DIFFERENT PITCHES
Because Yoruba is a tonal language, these drum notes can form sentences.
A sort of melodic Morse code.
OK, like anything, the song of Oluronbi.
# Oluronbi jeje omo re
# Omo re a pon bii epo
# Oluronbi o Joun joun
# Iroko Joun joun. #
It's a folk song. When I sing it, people know.
It's a popular folk song. So I'll sing it now.
SHE DRUMS TUNE OF SONG
You know? So, there's also some sounds that,
probably in the praise of a king, like...
So you know that the king or royalty is around.
I'm on my way to meet Nigerian pop royalty.
King Sunny Ade, an actual Yoruba king.
His juju music is based all around the talking drum.
When I love about King Sunny Ade's music is the way the heart of it
is ancient Nigerian rhythms.
And he comes up with this amazing, lush sound
that you can't help dancing to. He looks so cute!
ARCHIVE: King Sunny Ade.
Pushing 36 and with 40 albums already behind him in Nigeria,
you might think King Sunny Ade only a long shot for success in Europe.
How wrong he was.
King Sunny Ade became the first Nigerian to find success
in the West. Signed by Island Records,
he hit the UK charts in 1983.
Back in Nigeria, the people of the Yoruba tribe,
who created this sound, call it juju music.
Juju is based around Yoruba percussion
and became popular in palm wine bars in the 1930s.
It's a form of praise singing and the musicians
are often showered with paper money.
King Sunny Ade has released over 120 juju albums,
and is still one of the biggest recording artists in Nigeria today.
When I listen to Nigerian music,
I can really hear the ancient rhythms.
Yes! Because in Nigeria, you have so many rhythms.
HE SCATS RHYTHMS
Equally in your body.
HE CLAPS OUT RHYTHMS
My sisters have to take it piece by piece, from different shrines.
So they make it to be juju music.
These are the roots of juju music?
Yes.
Juju is all about rhythm, so it's perfect for dancing.
And King Sunny is famous for his moves.
Music, generally, is an invisible injection.
When they play music, you get up, you start dancing.
Because, over here, if I start playing music right now...
..eight o'clock at night,
I'll close eight o'clock in the morning.
Still? Yeah. I will dance in the room.
Because the people who sit there,
people will go from there to their work.
You made it rhythmic? Oh, yes.
Everything I do on the stage is rhythm.
Let me show you this.
This is my favourite record of his.
Synchro System.
I was even in a band named after it.
# Synchro!
# Synchro System... #
I am presenting a new sound.
A new music. So, if you want to dance to this music,
this is what you need to do.
That's how the music works.
And the whole world loves it.
JUJU MUSIC PLAYS
You're a good dancer.
From here.
I can't believe that!
That was lovely! Thank you!
I got a dance from King Sunny Ade!
# When they play my kind of music... #
But juju wasn't the only music packing the dance floors
of the '60s and '70s.
This country had one of the largest and most diverse
recording industries on the continent.
And Nigerian musicians were getting hip to a huge range of influences.
Rare funk and disco from Nigeria
has become hugely collectible in the West,
with many labels reissuing lost gems.
I've come to me to Temi Kogbe,
co-owner of the record label Odion Livingstone,
the first Nigerian label to reissue records from this golden era.
Temi! I'm Rita.
Pleased to meet you. Hello.
I want to find out about the records that kick-started
the music industry here.
Whoa! This is my kind of a space!
Where do you keep everything?
This is all '80s.
Like, the electro boogie, Lagos boogie stuff.
This is all Afro-rock, Afro-rock,
Yoruba, juju and then this is projects we're working
to reissue ourselves.
So, why do you want to start up a label?
I felt we needed to tell our story ourselves.
We needed to put out the records that we wanted to put out.
Not just the disco stuff.
The more...the records that speak to us as an African people.
And there were millions of records being produced.
Imagine that, you know? So, I found a lot of gems.
Things that people thought you would never find that.
A lot of this stuff, we pick it out from outdoor toilets,
chicken houses and stuff.
Records were supposed to be dead.
Are Nigerians starting to get into the reissues?
Yes. Because Naija is always fascinated
about aspects of their culture that are appreciated outside.
I just don't care how sweaty I am.
I could be in here for another 24 hours!
It's brilliant! There's so much to...listen to!
I want to discover the records that started Nigeria's pop boom.
OK, this record is a good place to start.
I know it says Stars Of Ghana,
but it's a good place to start on a Nigerian rhythm.
Because the first big popular music in Naija was highlife.
And it was music that reflected the times.
It was very bubbly, very, you know, effervescent.
Though highlife originated in Ghana,
it became huge here during the time of Nigeria's independence in 1960.
God, this is such a great compilation!
This is fantastic!
We've got the Stargazers and out of the Stargazers came Teddy Osel,
who went on to form Osibisa,
who were a huge band back in the '70s in the UK.
Um... Oh, my goodness.
I've never seen this compilation.
And on vinyl!
RECORD PLAYS IN BACKGROUND
Yeah...
This is the music of independence.
This is where our own people, we have our thing, we have our music,
and, you know, it's ours.
And it was such a big game changer
that you had foreign labels setting up in Nigeria
to sell this stuff to the middle class.
So, this is a big game changer.
Highlife music was a massive game changer.
And it was amazing.
UPBEAT GUITAR MUSIC
Highlife swept across the country...
..with each region putting their own stamp on the upbeat guitar music.
The sound was full of optimism and flair.
And a good dose of that uniquely Nigerian swagger.
I'm heading east to Benin City,
to meet one of Nigeria's highlife superstars.
A musician, poet, philosopher, painter and sculptor.
Look at those amazing gates.
And, as you look through...
..some weird kind of aeroplane.
This is Victor Uwaifo's place.
I remember my mum and dad playing Victor's music at parties.
He's an innovator and a bit of an enigma.
But before I can meet the main man,
I'm quickly ushered through his museum...
Look at that!
VOICEOVER: ..celebrating African history...
Some amazing sculptures!
..and his numerous achievements.
Oh, yeah! And all his guitars.
It's like a maze in here.
MUSIC: "Joromi"
Joromi made Victor famous.
And it was the first record to go gold in Africa.
When your first hit, Joromi, came out...
That's right. ..everyone said
you changed the landscape with highlife. I did, that's true.
HE SINGS JOROMI WITH GUITAR ACCOMPANIMENT
Then I started by playing something very romantic, very romantic.
I went like this...
Then I went to next chord.
That never happened before.
Then I went jazz.
Then...
HE CHANGES PLAYING STYLE
..hammer. Then mute.
HE PLAYS MUTED GUITAR
So it was something very different.
It was! It with lovely hearing the way you went from,
like, a folk melody. Yes, that's right.
Folk rhythms and showed us how you actually changed it
and made it so unique. So, I don't just take solos off the hat.
Off the cuff.
I base it on something. Just think of...
..thunder, lightning strikes, and thunderous.
A tree falls across the road.
So, I think of...
..yeah, scenery. Yes.
So, when I take my solo, it's based on something.
I'm communicating.
VICTOR SINGS
Victor had another huge success with this track - Guitar Boy.
Yeah.
BAND PLAYS GUITAR BOY
# Guitar boy
# If you see Mami water, oh
# Never, never you run away
# Eh
# Never run away with your wife, oh
# Guitar boy
# If you see Mami water, oh
# Never, never you run away
# Eh
# Never run away with your wife, oh... #
Apparently, Victor invented this rotating guitar strap too.
What a bizarre day!
But Victor has one final surprise for me.
A ride in another of his creations...
Can I get in? Get in.
..that he designed and built from scratch.
This is all about this man and his mad ideas
that he turns into reality.
He was like an innovator, he's still innovating,
so many musicians have been inspired by his music.
He was a game changer and he's still at it.
I've had so much fun!
I can't believe it!
Victor, you're going to drive me off?!
It should be sunset, shouldn't it?
ENGINE TURNS OVER AND STARTS
LOUD WHIRRING
ENGINE REVS
Back on the road again,
this time in a very boring car that doesn't sound like a jet engine.
Next stop is Ilesia to meet one of my heroes.
This is a real treat.
Orlando Julius.
I'm Rita. Rita. So good to meet you.
I've been playing your records for years.
Really? For years?! Yes! Yes!
And you called me to say, "Hello, Orlando.
"Can I come to you?" And I say yes!
Can we hear one of the tracks?
Let's hear your first big hit.
Jagua Nana? Yeah.
I brought a record player, just in case. Yes!
MUSIC: "Jagua Nana"
Yes?
Let's give it some volume.
HE SINGS ALONG
VOICEOVER: When Jagua Nana dropped in 1966,
it revolutionised highlife with Yoruba beats.
Instead of being the music of the middle-class,
it became the sound of the street.
My mother would ask me that...
Tell me, what are you saying?
My mother would ask me where did I went to,
because going out and I end up meeting people there.
Like, ladies that love music and... You know. Uh-huh.
Hey. Yes! Tell me about the time when Jagua Nana came out.
What else was playing? What was hot?
At that time was highlife time, but my Jagua Nana
is more than just highlife.
I started writing my own drum spot and I go with the music.
American soul was huge in Nigeria in the '60s.
Especially the music of a certain visitor -
James Brown.
I told him, I said, "Look, we've been listening to your music."
He went, "Wow, I feel good! Na-na-na-na..."
And the different kind of music that he did.
The guys from his crew that came to see the show,
they told him stories that he can't go home without seeing me.
They testified. Yeah.
Did you discuss music?
Oh, yes! It makes people
get together, to be able to do more together
and to be able to know their roots.
Because, black man in America, their roots come from Nigeria.
MUSIC: "Back To My Roots"
Orlando's music was a confident Africanisation of American soul,
using his native language and rhythms.
Orlando provided the riff and Yoruba refrain for this song,
Back To My Roots.
Such a treat hearing songs that I've been playing for years now.
It was so fresh, Orlando Julius is still on it.
And it just shows you just how much African and African-American music
has been intertwined for such a long time.
This fusion of African rhythms and culture with jazz,
soul and rock from the West
was an Africa-wide phenomenon by the end of the '60s.
But nowhere was it more prolific and more vibrant
than on the dance floors of this city.
Lagos. Las Giddy, to you and me.
And the place does make you giddy - there's music everywhere.
CAR HORN BEEPS LOUDLY
It just assaults all your senses.
This city of more than 21 million people thrums to the rhythm
of generators and car horns.
It's been the centre of the Nigerian music industry since the '60s.
And still is today.
Somewhat predictably,
I've headed to the nearest record store to find out more.
As I come in here - bang - talking drums, Batta drums, Sakara.
Those are the elements.
A good example of someone that had an understanding
of how to incorporate all these rhythms
in one go, I'd say, was Fela.
Fela Anikulapo Kuti,
probably the most influential African musician of all time.
Fela defined the sound and the attitude of Lagos in the 1970s.
He was a musical and political outlaw,
and the inventor of a whole new genre of music...
..Afrobeat.
The soul of Afrobeat is Fela.
Yeah. The power, the...
It's also Fela and it's also Lagos.
That energy is in Afrobeat.
It's not in highlife, as in highlife.
In Afrobeat there's an energy which is very Lagos, Nigerian...
You know, it's got arrogances in that music. Yeah.
They might not know how to play those scales as they should play them jazz,
but they will play... in our own style!
Because we are speaking our own language.
So when those guys are soloing, it's our language.
It's that language of the street here.
Lagos is not a place where you come for a holiday.
You come to get stimulated.
And I think he captured it in his music.
Afrobeat combined the complex arrangements of highlife
and the polyrhythms of juju.
But Fela added another ingredient.
Black power.
Fela toured America in '69 at the height of the civil rights movement.
4,000 miles from Lagos, he discovered Africa.
Yes, if you are in England, music can be...
..can be an instrument of enjoyment.
Or you can sing about love,
you can sing about whom you're going to bed with next.
As far as Africa is concerned, music cannot be for enjoyment.
Music has to be for revolution.
Music became Fela's weapon.
He returned from America burning with anger at the oppression of
the African people, and he poured it into his music.
Afrobeat was born.
Headquarters for Fela's social revolution
was his nightclub, the Shrine.
A place for students, thugs and weed-smoking radicals
to commune to Afrobeat.
It was also a perpetual target for the police.
I've come to the latest incarnation of the Shrine to meet his son Femi,
who's carrying on his father's legacy.
If someone from outer space came and said,
"Here, mate, I've heard about this guy Fela Kuti, right?
"What was his significance?
"Why is he still so important now?"
I think it was Godsent.
And he probably... I don't think he fully realised his gift.
He had...
He was just loved. Fela would be in the room and...
..he had this charisma that...
..like magnet, just drew you to him.
Fela was loved by working-class Nigerians,
but the government saw him as a threat.
When the police came to arrest my father,
first, he comes from a very respected family,
so you, the police, you are coming, knocking, breaking my...
breaking my door down?! I'm having sex and you're breaking...
You have the effort! I mean! He was... He had all...
Which he did have the right,
because the police is a colonial force.
And his songs, and he was ready to battle the army.
But one man battle army, battle police.
He was a one-man...
..force.
MUSIC: Zombie
Despite the arrests and the savage beatings,
Fela continued to speak out.
In 1976, he released Zombie,
using the word to describe the soldiers of the Nigerian Army.
When he did the album called that,
everybody who bought the album said,
"Wow, we're all dead!" You are going to pay for this!
Look, we all knew! There is no human being that saw Zombie
that didn't know, like, the matter of time,
Fela was going to pay a very high price for this song.
But even growing up in Fela's house, I wanted him to be the way he was.
Because when I joined his band...
..I saw him like that.
So every time the police raided, we all waited.
"Wait, give us another song!"
Because it was that song that gave us, too...
..the courage to walk the streets. Yes.
Like his father, Femi plays at the Shrine every week.
Tonight is his rehearsal and entrance is free.
The lights are on, the stage is set
and Femi Kuti is about to come and do his thing,
Afrobeat-style.
# Africa cannot hold free elections
# Corruption is still the motivation
# The world is facing global recession
# We need redemption We need salvation
# Africa cannot hold free elections... #
Here, the Yoruba deities are still worshipped
and African culture celebrated, all to the rhythm of Afrobeat.
Yeni, Fela's eldest daughter, is giving me a dance lesson.
In Africa, we call the bottom the yansh,
and it's all about shaking it.
It's a good reminder
that Nigerian rhythm isn't just found on the drums.
And that I haven't got it.
As you can see, I was having a bit of a time in there.
It was rammed, it was rocking,
and then I come out here, and look at it.
Another community.
Because the Shrine exists,
all these people get to make some money and make a living.
That's what it's all about - the inclusivity
and the very funky Afrobeats.
Do it, Femi.
Fela brought all kinds of people together,
and when he died in '97, a million people attended his funeral.
He's bigger now than ever.
And he still looms large over the music scene here today.
I've come to meet Keziah Jones.
Yo, Keziah!
How are you? Welcome.
Welcome to Jones HQ.
For me, he's the bridge between Fela and the pop music of today.
HE PLAYS THE GUITAR AND TAPS OUT A BEAT
And what I did, I took Yoruba rhythms,
transferred them to acoustic guitar.
Cos the rhythmic aspect of my music
is pretty much the most fundamental aspect of my music.
It makes your words land.
Whoa, you could hear ancient rhythms there!
Where did that rhythm come from?
That's from Yoruba.
Da-goo-goo-goo get,
da goo-goo get, get.
Keziah's from Abeokuta, the same area as Fela.
And in 1996,
he had the opportunity to interview him for a British magazine.
Um, so, Fela, images of Fela.
Amazing photographs.
It would turn out to be Fela's last in-depth interview.
I wanted to meet him. I mean, you know, I wanted to meet him anyway
and ask him questions of my own, you know what I mean?
We tried and tried and tried and tried and tried.
Finally, they said, "Well, come. But make sure he comes to the Shrine on this particular night."
Of course, I arrived in Lagos. I was still staying at my mum's house at that time.
I didn't have my own place. I'm going to the Shrine. She's like, "You're not going to
"the Shrine, I'm sorry, it's, like, 11 o'clock." I'm like, "Man!" So I didn't go to the Shrine.
I went the next day. Fela's sleeping. Went another day, Fela's taking a shit.
Went another day, Fela is brushing his teeth. Like, five times, I went there!
Finally, he came downstairs. It's like, "So you, you're the journalist."
I said, "Yeah." "I'm very angry with you for not coming to the Shrine.
"Cos how is this interview going to make any sense,
"if you haven't heard the music I'm doing now?"
I couldn't tell him, you know, my mum told me not to come!
Finally, he kind of like, "Yeah, all right, well, let's see."
And then he dismissed some people in the room, he left,
came back in his underpants, cos he was wearing his towel before.
Got changed, you know, came back in his underpants,
lit a spliff. He was ready to roll. He was ready to roll.
And that's when he started talking. And that's when he said, "You know,
"finally I'm glad they sent a Yoruba man to come and do this interview.
"Cos there are some things I want to say that, you know, can't be said in English."
And that's when he talked about Yoruba language as well, and all this stuff.
But he blew my mind. He said to me, like,
whatever you've found in your journey, in your research,
it has to now be shown and shared with everybody.
To your own people first, though.
And how'd you do that? What language are you going to use?
What tools are going to use?
Are you going to use forms they recognise?
So it was a deep... It was a conversation.
And it was his last interview.
That's the last real in-depth interview he made before he died.
He died a year later, exactly.
And that's what set me off to really get my research even more sharp.
HE SINGS SONG
And do you think the musicians now have that level of awareness?
At the moment, a lot of music is really good, but it essentially talks about aspirational ideas.
Yes. But let's say, if I was African-American and I was the hip-hop generation,
I don't really want to be hearing about the blues, man. You know what I mean?
The blues is like, that was the past, we move on from that. It's a bit like that here.
We're kind of in a new era, you know, Africa's moving forward.
It's a vibrant culture right now, on all levels.
The pop music of today is known as Afrobeats.
It's huge with the diaspora around the world,
especially in the UK.
Playlisted on Radio 1 with big-name collaborators like Drake and Kanye West.
The music may be a world away from the sound of Fela,
but it has the same rhythmic DNA.
I want to find out what people are listening to, here in Lagos.
But why do you think the people are loving Nigerian music so much now?
Afrobeats isn't just Nigerian pop music.
It's become a global phenomenon.
Tell me what's popular. What are people buying?
Olamide, yes.
Is this his new one?
Yemi Alade - she's huge - Looking For My Johnny.
So, do you still like Skelewu?
# Ah, skelewu
# Skelewu
# Skele-le-le-le-le
# Skelewu
# Skelewu... #
Davido is one of the biggest stars of Afrobeats.
He's already spawned a viral dance craze
and tonight he's headlining Gidi Fest.
I've nabbed a backstage pass and I was hoping to speak with Davido,
but he's four hours late and seems to have about 100 people
in his entourage.
All I can say is it was never like this in my day.
Punk rules.
Davido is the king of what I call big Cassava pop.
His first album translates as Son Of A Rich Man.
And this is all about the lifestyle.
The hanging-out backstage and the big-money deals.
Diplo's even here, one of the hottest producers around.
He's collaborating with Davido
and he isn't the only one coming to Nigeria for inspiration.
Afrobeats is one of the biggest sounds in the world right now,
but the place to see it is here in Lagos, where it all began.
AFROBEAT MUSIC PLAYS, AUDIENCE SINGS ALONG
Glastonbury-style festivals like this are on the rise in Nigeria.
But for me, Afrobeats really works best in a club,
so I'm going to call it a night.
What's up? Listen! Everybody!
One of the most pleasing things about the new hunger for live music
is the space that it's opened up for female artists.
Women have moved into the mainstream and they're holding their own.
I've come to Powa Market on Lagos Island to meet Nneka,
one of a new generation of emancipated female songwriters.
This is where she comes and does her shopping.
It's run by women, for women.
Fruit and veg, and then some beautiful songs.
That works.
MUSIC PLAYS
# In this madness In this world
# With its swiftness and its coldness
# You're my peace of mind
# When the world just keeps turning
# And I know not where to head to
# You're my peace of mind... #
Nneka's music speaks to the experience of women in Nigeria,
so often sidelined by a very macho society.
# Forever rest in love
# Oh, love, ooh... #
Armed only with her guitar, she's on a mission to give people hope.
# Beautiful star gonna
# When you look down on me... #
Great idea to have your gig here in the market.
I've done this before in a place called Ajegunle.
I've done it in the computer village where they sell broken spare parts,
computer spare parts.
In this case, I thought it was a good idea to connect with the women
and to share with them and support them.
Like Fela, Nneka uses her music as a tool to challenge inequality.
Just wondering what part music plays...
..in opening up our eyes.
I think music is very powerful.
Maybe even more powerful than politics.
Stronger than religion.
But I'm...
I'm a believer, hence I package all that stuff
that music is bigger than into the music
and use it as a platform to raise awareness on critical social issues,
on how we can, you know, better our lives, change ourselves,
the way we talk, the way we breathe.
# As u dey there so
# U dey you bow your head?
# As u dey there so
# U dey shed your tears alone... #
I'm wondering what the live music scene is like here in Nigeria.
I think we're going back to playing live instruments.
There was a period where
electronics, synthetic, computerised...
..music or beats was more the focus,
but I think it's necessary for us to go through this evolution.
It's nothing bad. It's just like people don't wear bell-bottomed trousers any more.
Well, they're starting to, actually.
Oh, yes, starting to again! We go back there, you know? History repeats itself.
If we're creative enough, we'll create something completely different that has not been created
before, but we are always inspired somehow by what has already happened in the past.
We can still place it side by side and see the similarities.
There's Afrobeats, it used to be Afrobeat,
but the rhythm is inspired by Fela.
MUSIC: Babylon
And it isn't just Fela providing inspiration for the new generation.
I can really hear Victor's highlife guitar in there.
It truly feels like Nigerian musicians like Nneka have come full circle.
Back to their roots and the rhythms that started it all.
Today, even the most commercial pop stars like Davido are increasingly performing with live musicians.
Whoo!
Being a good live band takes hours of rehearsals, and one of the bands
who are at the forefront of this burgeoning music scene here in Lagos
is the Bantu band, and they're in that hot, sticky rehearsal room,
getting it right, right now.
Ade runs a club night called Afropolitan Vibes,
where everything has to be performed live.
Bantu band has backed up all kinds of artists,
from Orlando Julius to big pop stars like Yemi Alade.
THEY SING AND PLAY
Like any band practice, there has to be a bit of banter.
Was the first line vuvuzela?
We're talking about the anatomy of a woman.
Oh, I see. So what's the vuvuzela?
The complications... The vuvuzela is the South African version...
Yeah, the mm...
Of a yansh. Of the yansh. I see!
OK. There's vuvuzela, there's caterpillar,
there's compa beetle, there's...
Yeah. So it's a bit... Watch the yansh and see what you can handle, right?
Mm-hm! All right, then!
THEY CHEER
And after every rehearsal, it's time to go for a drink and to cool off.
In America, they all call this the hood, but this is OUR neighbourhood.
Come on, let's do it.
The Bantu band are carrying on the legacy of Afrobeat.
But it's the pop music coming out of Nigeria and spreading like wildfire
on the internet that's changing the image of Africa on the world stage.
For the first time ever in African contemporary history,
you have a situation where people are assertive.
They come out and they're like, "We are on par with American pop,
"we're on par with American other music."
You have Nigerian artists doing collaborations with Snoop Dogg,
with Kanye West...
Akon. With Akon, you know?
Rick Ross, and the list goes on and on.
So these kids are very smart, very savvy,
very business-conscious, and that has created a boldness
that I've never experienced ever before,
because I am a bit older and I remember when all you had was
world music to kind of, like, gain access to an audience in Europe or in America,
but now you don't have to go down that route.
All you need do is have good music,
and once they play it in Nigeria, people are going to jump on it.
It's almost like dancehall culture, you know?
And then you go to Berlin, and in an R&B club,
they're playing Nigerian music and you go, "Wow!"
And it's sort of good also for second, third generation Africans
inside the UK or in Europe...
That's what I was going to say. ..because for them now, they walk with pride.
Before, you would identify, obviously, with Jamaican culture,
because that was hip, that was cool, that was sexy,
but now Africa is cool, Africa is hip, it's sexy.
And the kids be, I can imagine, at playgrounds and school grounds,
you know, "What are you listening to?"
"Oh, it's from Nigeria and it's cool."
Before, you would be hiding with your Nigerian music.
You wouldn't be playing it. You wouldn't!
You would be like, "No, it's hip-hop, you don't want to listen to it, like..."
Everybody, get out, get out, get out!
What are you drinking?
Jedi.
Oh. It's going to help me...
Yeah! Help you to...
Oh, I see.
A young guy like you, you need that?
I need that!
THEY LAUGH
The hype around Afrobeats is even bringing Nigerian artists back from
the diaspora to make their music here.
I'm crossing over from the mainland onto Victoria Island, where all the
wealthy people live, and I'm going there to talk to Tiwa Savage.
She is absolutely huge on the Naija pop scene.
To get the picture, think Beyonce.
Tiwa Savage started her career in America,
before returning to Nigeria in 2011.
It proved to be a smart move.
She's the first African artist to sign to Jay-Z's Roc Nation label.
And her videos get an average of 20 million views.
She's collaborated with Afrobeats' biggest stars,
including the chart-topping rapper Wizkid.
Wizkid brought that swag, and the video's colourful and it worked.
Wizkid's another one who's just gone stratospheric.
He's very good lyrically. You know, he's a good freestyler.
He goes into the studio and he freestyles and he's very good.
Even melody-wise. I know he listens to Fela a lot and he listens to reggae a lot.
You combine those two, it's... Potent.
It's magic. Yeah.
So, let's start with you coming home.
While I was in the US and LA, I worked with Babyface,
I worked with Whitney Houston, Fantasia.
The one thing that used to stick out every time I meet them would be,
"Tiwa, where's that name from?"
And I have to say, "Nigeria, West Africa."
"Oh, my goodness! You're African?
"Wow! The home of Fela Kuti."
The interest was there from them and so it was just, like,
a light bulb moment, like, "Wait, hold on...
"Something...something is happening back home."
And so, I had to look back and then
I started researching into, like, Mo' Hits, Tuface, P-Square,
and just seeing the energy back home,
and so I was like, "Yeah, I need to go back home."
# We ain't even gotta drag on it
# I got many blessings I could brag on it
# I been through the fire I could talk on it... #
And how important are the African or Nigerian rhythms to your music?
Very. It's really, really important.
Nowhere else in this world you can get that, the kind of rhythm you have.
It's a language.
These are the kind of things that we need to continue to incorporate in our music.
We can't lose that.
Maybe they might not understand it initially, but WE have to sell it.
You know, we can't do R&B or hip-hop, or whatever, as good as they do.
That's their thing. But they can't do Afrobeats like we do.
So it's just a case of making sure that the language, the culture is still there.
# Throw your hands up air for me
# If you feel it, sing along Sing the song for me... #
What is it like to be a woman in such a male-dominated industry?
I think in Africa, we still need to separate the art from the person,
so onstage, you know, I might, you know, shake my bum,
which is actually very African if you look at traditional African dancers,
you know, but people just see it like, "Oh, my God, she's too risque. This is too much."
So that's just one of the main things for me as an artist,
to try and educate people that it's just an art.
Yeah, exactly. So is it partly because you are articulating your wants and desires,
whereas maybe African women haven't had that opportunity, you know, to do that?
I think we're taught to, you know... Zip it. Right. Right.
But I'm just saying as a modern-day African woman, I want to be able to take the best of both worlds.
I keep hearing people refer to you as the Nigerian Beyonce.
Oh, God!
How does that make you feel?
What does it mean to you? Obviously, it's a compliment.
Because Beyonce is the best at what she does,
so being compared to the best is a compliment.
The fact that Beyonce's really tapping into African culture now -
what does that say to you?
It should encourage us that we have something beautiful,
but I think we should look inwards and make sure that the first person
that's selling Africa to the world is an African.
Africa is owning her culture and identity in a way that I find thrilling.
The pan-African dream of Fela feels like it's finally a possibility.
And it's happening not through politics, but through pop music.
But it does make me think about all the years that have gone before.
When I come to the beach in Africa, especially on the West Coast...
..and it's the Atlantic, I just...
..start remembering and hearing that Atlantic story.
The millions of slaves shipped out from Africa to the New World.
Slaves that only carried the rhythms of the homeland, that...
..they took and synthesised and made glorious new music and sent it back.
That conversation, whether it's...
..feelings, rhythms...
..tunes, instruments - that conversation is still happening now.