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| Uncool to use English: the rise of 'dialectical' rap | |
| (about 4 hours later) | |
| Walking through the bus parks and street markets of my youth, between snatches of Fuji music and Celine Dion, it was impossible to miss the voices of Biggie, Tupac and Salt-N-Pepa blaring through the loudspeakers and bleeding into the streets. | |
| Rap and hip-hop culture were everywhere: baggy trousers and baseball hats worn backwards, to the hammer dance and the bounce to your step that – without the right amount of swag and attitude – might be mistaken for a bad limp. I won many party dance competitions with my running man, shutting my mouth still when Salt-N-Pepa would utter the ‘S’ word in Let’s Talk About Sex, and I have fond memories of my camouflage cargo pants, spaghetti straps and Janet Jackson box braids. | |
| My three much older brothers’ and sister’s favourite tunes – Naughty by Nature’s OPP, Queen Latifah’s Fly Girl, Tribe Called Quest’s Bonita Applebaum – had inspired rappers on their university campuses, and I happily danced along to the songs they passed down to me: we bought the culture wholesale, even rhyming with an American twang. | |
| Related: Talking tactics: Rihanna and the pop stars who change accent | |
| But as Lagos has gentrified over the last decade, sprouting with trees and parks, street markets reincarnated as shopping complexes, intersections colonised by Domino’s Pizza and Cold Stone ice cream, there has been a new wave of indigenous or dialectical rap music – hip-hop that fuses street slang with native dialect. | But as Lagos has gentrified over the last decade, sprouting with trees and parks, street markets reincarnated as shopping complexes, intersections colonised by Domino’s Pizza and Cold Stone ice cream, there has been a new wave of indigenous or dialectical rap music – hip-hop that fuses street slang with native dialect. |
| Suddenly Lagosian rappers were talking in their own languages about their own experiences: Nigerian working-class struggles, inner-city hustle, stories of thriving despite the odds, the roving American ‘R’ swapped for heavy clicks, dips and double consonants. | Suddenly Lagosian rappers were talking in their own languages about their own experiences: Nigerian working-class struggles, inner-city hustle, stories of thriving despite the odds, the roving American ‘R’ swapped for heavy clicks, dips and double consonants. |
| “Dialectic rap had always been there, but it hadn’t been sold,” says rapper Illbliss. “The first person able to do that was Dagrin.” | “Dialectic rap had always been there, but it hadn’t been sold,” says rapper Illbliss. “The first person able to do that was Dagrin.” |
| Unlike the white-washed hip-hop videos coming out of America brimming with muscles and bravado, Dagrin’s video for Pon Pon Pon showed the gritty streets of Lagos, with hardcore Yoruba lyrics over a heavy bass line and the punctuation of a clucking firearm. With callouts to Lagos communities such as Shitta, Egbeda and Mushin, street kids saw themselves and their culture represented and hyped on TV for the first time. “People began to change their perspective,” says Illbliss. | Unlike the white-washed hip-hop videos coming out of America brimming with muscles and bravado, Dagrin’s video for Pon Pon Pon showed the gritty streets of Lagos, with hardcore Yoruba lyrics over a heavy bass line and the punctuation of a clucking firearm. With callouts to Lagos communities such as Shitta, Egbeda and Mushin, street kids saw themselves and their culture represented and hyped on TV for the first time. “People began to change their perspective,” says Illbliss. |
| Dialectic rap had always been there, but it hadn’t been sold | |
| One of the current Yoruba rap sensations is 21-year-old Lil Kesh, who hails from Bariga, an inner-city urban community. Kesh’s breakout hit song Shoki catapulted him to stardom and popularised its signature dance: fingers held tightly together mimicking a cobra, while the body bobs slowly up and down, then builds to a quick drop of the hand and then back up again. “I’ve been able to go through things on the streets of Lagos before becoming famous which influences the music,” Kesh says. “The people in the streets relate to the slang and the stories. They always support their own and I rep them.” | One of the current Yoruba rap sensations is 21-year-old Lil Kesh, who hails from Bariga, an inner-city urban community. Kesh’s breakout hit song Shoki catapulted him to stardom and popularised its signature dance: fingers held tightly together mimicking a cobra, while the body bobs slowly up and down, then builds to a quick drop of the hand and then back up again. “I’ve been able to go through things on the streets of Lagos before becoming famous which influences the music,” Kesh says. “The people in the streets relate to the slang and the stories. They always support their own and I rep them.” |
| After Dagrin’s tragic death in a motor accident in 2010, his successor was pegged as a young rapper from the relatively deprived community of Bariga. Soon, Olamide was the king of the streets: multiple albums and endorsement deals, sold-out concerts, and a fanbase that cuts across socioeconomic lines. The rapper has spoken about seeing people he admired in his neighbourhood pretending to be from somewhere else, for fear of being stigmatised. He has gone the exact opposite route – and now plays festivals in the US that, ironically, have cemented his reputation as a true Lagosian icon. Close on his heels is Phyno, who raps in Igbo. | After Dagrin’s tragic death in a motor accident in 2010, his successor was pegged as a young rapper from the relatively deprived community of Bariga. Soon, Olamide was the king of the streets: multiple albums and endorsement deals, sold-out concerts, and a fanbase that cuts across socioeconomic lines. The rapper has spoken about seeing people he admired in his neighbourhood pretending to be from somewhere else, for fear of being stigmatised. He has gone the exact opposite route – and now plays festivals in the US that, ironically, have cemented his reputation as a true Lagosian icon. Close on his heels is Phyno, who raps in Igbo. |
| “If you are coming from the less privileged side of the fence, the marketability is way easier because you have the numbers,” Vector points out. “People making music about the masses and chronicling the street stories are actually at an advantage. There are not enough silver spoons to go round.” | “If you are coming from the less privileged side of the fence, the marketability is way easier because you have the numbers,” Vector points out. “People making music about the masses and chronicling the street stories are actually at an advantage. There are not enough silver spoons to go round.” |
| Illbliss was introduced to rap music growing up in Enugu in the Eastern region of the country. Originally influenced by American artists like EricB and Rakim, he now raps in Igbo. | Illbliss was introduced to rap music growing up in Enugu in the Eastern region of the country. Originally influenced by American artists like EricB and Rakim, he now raps in Igbo. |
| “The streets needed role models who could speak their language to them. They needed people to emulate, who were cool,” he says. “People that were on billboards, television screens and people that were ambassadors for big brands and big consumer products. This also meant that their culture had gone mainstream. Since the music is sold to them in their dialect, they are hearing their slangs on the radio. A part of their culture that was looked down on as crass, they see it blow up.” | “The streets needed role models who could speak their language to them. They needed people to emulate, who were cool,” he says. “People that were on billboards, television screens and people that were ambassadors for big brands and big consumer products. This also meant that their culture had gone mainstream. Since the music is sold to them in their dialect, they are hearing their slangs on the radio. A part of their culture that was looked down on as crass, they see it blow up.” |
| In many ways, the indigenous rap movement has been an empowering tool for poorer, less literate communities in the city. Though Lagos is a cosmopolitan city teeming with cultures and ethnicities and dominated by English, it is predominantly a Yoruba city. Some hope the movement could be a major influence in bridging ethnic gaps. | In many ways, the indigenous rap movement has been an empowering tool for poorer, less literate communities in the city. Though Lagos is a cosmopolitan city teeming with cultures and ethnicities and dominated by English, it is predominantly a Yoruba city. Some hope the movement could be a major influence in bridging ethnic gaps. |
| “Dialectical rap or local rap music has finally broken barriers because you don’t need to hear what we are saying,” Illbliss says. “There is the rhythm, there is the sway, there are the catchphrases and the slogans. It’s almost like I want my people to know your people. If I get on a song with say Olamide or Lil Kesh, it is a seamless exchange where I carry my culture to them and they bring their culture to me. Even our leadership has never unified Nigerians as much as music.” | “Dialectical rap or local rap music has finally broken barriers because you don’t need to hear what we are saying,” Illbliss says. “There is the rhythm, there is the sway, there are the catchphrases and the slogans. It’s almost like I want my people to know your people. If I get on a song with say Olamide or Lil Kesh, it is a seamless exchange where I carry my culture to them and they bring their culture to me. Even our leadership has never unified Nigerians as much as music.” |
| Related: The mega churches of Lagos: huge hangars hold hundreds of thousands – in pictures | Related: The mega churches of Lagos: huge hangars hold hundreds of thousands – in pictures |
| When I was growing up, middle-class kids like me rarely admitted to understanding a native language, let alone speaking it. These days, things are different: it is uncool to have nothing but English in your language arsenal. Indigenous rap in Lagos has exceeded its expectations to the extent that some new rappers have been accused of class appropriation to sell their music. Brands are following suit, with ad campaigns in pidgin and local languages. TV programmes are doing the same. | |
| The interest of large corporations in the movement highlights a paradox: the more KFCs and ShopRites come in, the higher our craving for something home-grown. I wonder if indigenous rap is also a reaction to feeling erased. | |
| It’s a “native approach to western influence”, says rapper Vector when I suggest the thought to him. “Africanism has become bold within the past 10 years. There has been a craving for nativity, a wanting for a new African sound – so this movement was bound to happen.” | It’s a “native approach to western influence”, says rapper Vector when I suggest the thought to him. “Africanism has become bold within the past 10 years. There has been a craving for nativity, a wanting for a new African sound – so this movement was bound to happen.” |
| How is Lagos changing? Share your stories and photos with GuardianWitness or on Twitter/Instagram using #GuardianLagos | How is Lagos changing? Share your stories and photos with GuardianWitness or on Twitter/Instagram using #GuardianLagos |