The year is 2014. I am a freshman at Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife and Awolowo hall is my hostel. The times are fun. Chinko Ekun is our favorite rapper. We love Virus Zamora’s Tina. The hilarious MC Lively is hosting every event in the faculty. My room is numbered 102 on Block 3. A dark-eyed boy called DML sings all day in room 101. The harmonies he makes are soulful. I think about joining him sometimes. But an urgent beauty has my attention. Let me tell you about it.
My article, Awolowo, begins with this recount. Oh, I went on to write about the thrilling football we played in Awolowo Hall, Obafemi Awolowo University. Today, I will tell you about another urgent beauty— the rave called Adekunle Gold, that time he came to my Uni and his evolution into AG Baby.
OAU boy!
Indeed, these stars were once in Obafemi Awolowo University at the same time. Fireboy DML, Chinko Ekun, MC Lively, Virus Zamora. So was Kyle B (now called Superboy Cheque and signed to Phyno’s Penthauze). So were Woli Arole and Yhemolee (Aunty Margaret). So was the “best rapper in Africa”, Blaqbonez, who does have a rap song titled OAU boy. It was no big deal; we did not know what they were about to become. The artistes released local singles, made local news and performed at local events that were sometimes headlined by acclaimed musicians. Once, Adekunle Gold came to town. And I met him. It is a funny story.
2015.
It was 2015 when he did. He released Sade on 19th December, 2014. You know that it was a catchy cover of One Direction’s Story of My Life. It rose to critical acclaim immediately and later won Best Alternative Song at the 2015 Headies. But by June 12, 2015, it was his only song. Remember this fact. By then, Adekunle Gold had a Higher National Diploma in Arts and Design from Lagos State Polytechnic. He was an artist already—the internet King of Photoshop. Yes, he once famously cropped himself into a picture of Tiwa Savage. Yes, he designed the YBNL logo, did art for Lil Kesh and Viktoh.
2015 meant new things for me too. By June, I had just begun my second year as a law student. I had just moved off campus. I worked for a school media agency called Neonatar. We dominated print media at the time—owning nine 3D boards across campus. My job was to receive publications, edit them, print and paste. I would walk from the Faculty of Administration to HSLT, to “AngloMoz”, pinning paper here and there. This is work, if you don’t know. I write well because I paid my dues. And I did it all for free. I wrote Awolowo in 2014, for Neonatar. It went up on those boards, it was my first publication post secondary school.
But my efforts were mostly strategic. Joshua Igba, the CEO of Neonatar, was diversifying. The brand was going into audio-visual content. He had started a YouTube channel for broadcast, called IgbaTV, and I was keen. I was going to impress with the print work so I could get my shot at becoming a presenter. It was working. By June, I had made one video already—some broadcast about Tiwa Savage going to church, Davido partying in Las Vegas and similar iranu. You can still find this video on YouTube. But I warn you—I look like a bonga fish had sex with a mushroom and gave birth to a bongamush. I never speak about that video. But I think my presenting was brilliant for my level, and at the time. I did one roll, no cuts. Joshua was thrilled, I was ready.
When the Students Union invited Adekunle Gold to OAU, I was on the publicity team. Oh, the Students Union was powerful. They declared strikes on their own. The former president, Ibikunle (who now works as an associate at Nigeria’s leading law firm) handed over to TY, a final year student of Chemical Engineering. At the elections, TY had beaten an eloquent speaker called Phakoo. Phakoo’s real name is Seun Fakorede. Yes, the present Commissioner for Youth and Sports in Oyo State.
The Invasion.
This event was called The Invasion. To promote, we did a carcade around campus. I had a microphone. We yelled at students over the sound of booming music. And what did those speakers play? Sade. Over and over again. I remember walking into Mozambique hall and sharing fliers. I was barely ever there, my ex-girlfriend stayed off campus after all. Somebody asked “is Olamide coming too?” I smiled. “It is YBNL, come on!”
Our show at Amphitheatre started by 10PM. It was a busy night on campus. Falz headlined another show, happening minutes away from ours. While other students paid for entry, I proudly showed my ID to security. I had only spent one year at the Uni but I was already gang. I was on the red carpet, amidst helping with logistics.
Adekunle Gold was around early. I interviewed him while the videographer shone light in our faces. I asked the right questions, I think. But dear, I was horribly dressed. I know that. I cringe every time I remember it. I had the right accent and spontaneity. But I lacked the charisma and fashion sense. I was a hopeless nerd, on the back of a 4.8 CGPA. I lived a triangular life — I went to class, my hostel and church (sometimes). I later learnt. But then I really was hopeless.
I wore a collared short-sleeve that had buttons through the middle. I wore this blue singlet beneath so when it got hot, I removed my shirt. I wore these brown trousers that I rolled at the tips. And these Vans shoes that looked tired. But boy I was confident. There is a video of that interview with Adekunle Gold on YouTube. But it has Lexie Armani in it, not me. Thankfully. Joshua was horrified, I wasn’t ready.
He did everything right, Adekunle Gold. He did the traditional dobale. Oh, everyone who performs at our Amphitheater has to first perform a prostrate for the audience. That’s the kind of university I went to. Some of us sing the school anthem at our weddings. He began with acapella, then performed his hit song, gesturing to blushing girls. When Sade finished, he left the stage. There was an applause.
Two seconds.
Now this next part is weird.
The night featured performances from OAU’s top talent, including some of the artistes I already mentioned. Just like any other show. We kept Adekunle Gold behind the stage from 10PM till 1AM because he was the headliner. Just like any other show. He had one song and we knew that. He performed that song and we appreciated it. Many left immediately.
Then a group of comics popularly known as Awo Boys mounted the stage to perform. I disliked their performances. Not because of the vulgarity they performed. But because they were not funny. They had to perform though, because Awolowo hostel was a power sect. Full of self-acclaimed “leftists”, “revolutionaries” and “socialists”. People who quoted Karl Marx and Julius Nyerere. People the Students Union owed.
Awo Boys stayed on for too long so some persons got irritated. Now this part of my memory is blurry. But I remember that students began to throw stuff at Awo Boys and they then began to throw stuff back. The throwing soon threw amphitheater into disarray. There was noise and mass exit. Some people tried to obstruct Adekunle Gold’s pickup car. The promoters of the event packed their stuff and vamoosed. There was gathering and fighting happening up and down the place. It was 2AM in the morning. I was confused.
By the next morning, the news was about how Adekunle Gold had underperformed. The news was that students were so aggrieved that they had protested. The Students Union were at Adekunle Gold’s hotel room to demand some of their money. And by demand, I mean a number of threatening boys. They claimed that he did not perform this one song over and over, that 4 minutes was too short. They had paid N300,000. He was signed. He had come all the way from Lagos. But AG (or somebody) went to an ATM and withdrew some of the money to refund them. Then he left for Lagos and said nothing.
This story is unimportant, cringeworthy. And he probably doesn’t (or would prefer to not) remember it. But I still think about it. It must have been a lot of money at the time. How much was left after the label took its share? How exactly did these boys “demand”? How did he feel? Broken? Or inspired. Haha, the disrespect. What the Students Union did and maybe how I dressed. To Adekunle Gold. Before this Adekunle Gold. The god. A god that has now created this new universe he calls Afro Pop.
Gold.
By July 2016, Adekunle was Gold. He released that 16-track album and booya! At the time, I was an intern at KPMG Nigeria, getting railed by Lagos life. I lived at Isheri, Magodo and worked at Victoria Island. This often meant 3 hours on the road, twice a day. I needed a playlist. I remember MI’s Illegal Music III and Adekunle Gold’s Gold. Gold was not my typical album but I loved it. This was a highlife album, released in 2016! As at 2015, I was still making arguments about how I preferred “abroad music” because the lyrics in Nigerian songs barely made sense. Haha. And I didn’t listen to albums predominantly versed in local languages, probably because I speak only English. But here was an album immersed in Yoruba and there I was, sweating in a Danfo, but nodding to “mo ga ju aye lo oh!” Gold had diverse themes but the same brilliant composition. Gold appealed to all age-groups, remarkably the older generation. It must have done serious numbers because it was everywhere, playing at elite parties on the island and selling on Third Mainland Bridge.
The Wake Up.
Around 30 came after Gold and the experimenting began. You listen to Ire, Call on Me, There is a God and you feel it. This wasn’t Gold all over, even though too many people sell that belief. I thought that Ire (or Uyo Meyo by Teniola Apata) was the song of 2018. It had incredible writing and processions.
On February 28, 2019 however, AG dropped Before You Wake up and the revolution began on full-scale. The producer was Sess The Problem Kid and the genre was pop. Pop! I heard his voice and still asked “who sang this?” It was then Adekunle Kosoko became AG Baby. After, there was Kelegbe Megbe, Young Love and Jore. Then, Something Different, which is somewhat an eponymous character in AG’s new book. Indeed, something different was happening.
This transition is difficult, by the way. Previously, he wasn’t making Afrobeats, but Highlife. AG entered the industry at 29, wore Agbada in music videos and seemed set to become the new King Sunny Ade. Now he wears vintage shirts, Nikes and seemed like he was inventing futuristic dance steps in Something Different. Look at him! It’s like he’s aging backwards!
The Evolution.
Much hasn’t changed for me. These days, I am still a student — this time at the Nigerian Law School. No thanks, public university. Well, a home-based student. No thanks, 2020. I spent some of today making eternal notes for Corporate Law Practice. Playing music alongside makes the monotony bearable. I spent the other half at the hospital taking tests. Gentlemen, I have a Covid-19 scare. But none of these really matter.
Today, I heard AG Baby and realized that this transition is now complete. I hear it is the first track in his coming EP, Afro Pop Vol 1. I have not played a brand-new song this many times in a long time. I have played this one on Deezer, YouTube. Even Naijaloaded.com. I was on YouTube when the views were 542, until they were 15k. Yet, all the time, I want to hear “gimme that, gimme that bop…” all over again. It is a simple song with a delicious hook and jumped-up lyrics. I have never been this curious about a project. It has been a string of hits. What else does this omo logo have in store?
Artistes evolve. Burna Boy created “Afro-fusion” and became the African Giant. MI’s projects keep evolving with the times and featuring the newest kids. Tuface is eternal.
But evolutions do not always turn out the way we like. Wizkid’s SoundMan isn’t. Sounds From The Other Side is my favorite Wizkid album. Nobody I meet shares this preference. While that project and subsequent songs have done great numbers, the consistent reactions show how loyal fans can hinder growth. Oh you are my favorite artist now. You must continue to be my favorite. This is how you will continue. By doing this and NOT doing that. I share some of their sentiments however. His songs often feel like he is sucking the air out of them so they sound new, so they come with “vibes”. And I love them sometimes. But err… yesterday, 4 minutes of Smile made me frown. Yet, I am just a fan, one fan. And the fair truth is — even Wizkid who has been legendary for the culture deserves the right to self-assess and evolve.
Artistes are supposed to evolve. They are supposed to stay interesting for a particular audience (and this requires alterations) and appeal to a newer audience (so they make more money). A few persons heard Fireboy’s New York City Girl and criticized its appeal. Well, I thought they should have considered the obvious—that it wasn’t in fact meant for (just) them. The song is literally titled “New York City Girl”. Fireboy addresses a fine girl from New York City and speaks about summertime. Does Nigeria have summer? The video is digitally set in New York. What Fireboy is doing is shooting a straight, audacious shot at an international audience. And boy, isn’t he audacious? Last November, in a season of EPs, this new artist released a full album on the back of only three singles! And damn, it was worth the risk. There are not too many artistes on this list of audacity. But of course, there is space for AG Baby, who pulled off Gold after Sade and Orente.
The GOATs.
I rate AG high enough to put him right next to the greats. And although I loathe unnecessary comparisons, here is a corny illustration that I left in my notes. I hope you get it.
Davido feels like air. A lot of air. There are two windows, with different sizes. There is reliable frequency. Most of you is happy, content. Maybe you take it for granted. You don’t worry where this air comes from. There is some assuring elegance to it. More is more.
Wizkid feels like less air, from one small window. You need to stand next to this window. There is little ventilation. It is thesame air again and again. But it feels spiritual. You are unexplainably addicted and somewhat grateful. You are anxious. You want more. But here, less is more.
Burna boy feels like an expanding room. Gradually turning cubics into acres. Planting trees in the middle of the room and blowing off the ceiling so there’s photosynthesis. As long as there are trees you will breathe air. Air that feels like home, if home was enough. Like nature. Fresh but infinite. Pure but gigantic.
Adekunle Gold feels new — an unprecedented, tasty fusion of two worlds. As if science invented a way to build permeable walls. The walls are there but you do not need windows because the air gets in anyway. Then there are laboratory enhanced flowers but without the side effects. The breeze is cool and the aroma is pleasant. Inhaling is not just routine but pleasurable.
AG Baby.
If artistes were graded on their all-round talent, AG might be the greatest. That is, if we gave equal points for performance, writing, branding, etc. And reinvention. You are AG Baby when you wittingly call your band The 79th Element, when your first show sells out 800 seats in the UK. Oh, your shows start on time. You work with a live band the entire hour because your voice too is gold. You rehearse for a month, three times a week. People hear your voice in your wife’s tracks because you can also backup. Also, you might just get bored and write One Milli for Davido. Oh, and you consistently send newsletters to select fans, speaking your truth and offering inspiration.
AG is who you are when you are constantly experimenting, improving, upgrading. Now, you are married to a chart-topper and isolating with your newborn in the US. Now you have cornrows and a proper beard. Now you are working out. Oh you look much better, you dress like a rockstar from the future.
AG is who you are when you have an intentional, documented come up. People can tell the deliberate strategies you employ to improve. You went indie and did not disappear for a moment. You are not just lucky. You are not just blessed. You switched it up yourself.
You began with desperately begging Sade to stay. Then you praised Orente for tolerating your inadequacy. Then you begged Papa God to pick up the call. But look at you these days. Telling rivals to stay in their lane, telling exes it could have been something different, boastfully calling yourself “propagator”. Ha. Yet, no one can challenge you. Because arrogance multiplied by truth is truth.
And there she is — Sade.
Eventually urging you.
Do the dirty wine. AG baby don’t stop.
Never stop, AG.
