Afrobeats has grown exponentially in the decades since its origin. Multiple artists sell out arenas globally, the genre consistently garners billions of streams each year, and the Recording Academy recently created a new category specifically for African music.
However, Afrobeats has changed significantly, leaving most long-time listeners of the genre with mixed feelings about this. Why? Afrobeats is quite personal to our culture, and the trade-off between authenticity and commercialisation feels antinomical. The evolution of any genre is inevitable, but this becomes trickier once it becomes a trade-off between authenticity and mainstream appeal. I'm not surprised by this and I'm sure others aren't either. Nigerian culture has generally become more popular over the last two decades, with our film, cuisine, and art gaining traction in global spaces.
Therefore, it makes sense that Afrobeats follows suit within the ongoing globalisation of Nigerian culture. Although this increased exposure should be a good thing, I remain skeptical.
The globalisation of Afrobeats should be a good thing. Our artists are more able than ever to achieve market-fit due to this increased recognition, playing a critical role in cementing our positioning as the 'cool kids' of Africa. However, it is worth noting that this rapid growth was not serendipitous or purely random.
For the longest time, the core lever for Afrobeats' commercialisation has been through features and collaborations with other artists. On the surface, it's a seemingly innocent 'quid pro quo' which promises growth for both parties. Instead, I feel it's been an exploitative dynamic akin to the resource extraction observed in former colonial states. We could discuss the symbolism of Wizkid's 'collaboration' with Drake on One Dance, where his oice can barely be heard. Or, perhaps Beyoncé's The Gift which featured primarily Afrobeats artists and yet included no African countries on the tour.
One could argue that the tables seem to have turned, as we now see many Afrobeats artists featuring foreign artists on their own projects. Case in point: global acts like Justin Bieber, Nicki Minaj, and Chris Brown have been featured on multiple Afrobeats projects over the last 5 years. However, I believe the initial quid pro quo stands, but we falsely believe we're in the driver's seat. Afrobeats is trendy, and this time it conveniently benefits the foreign (primarily American) artistes to be featured within the genre, instead of vice versa.
I am not as concerned about all aspects of Nigerian culture losing their authenticity. In many cases, some degree of cultural synthesis can be beneficial. Nollywood could benefit from raising its standard to match the production quality of its counterparts. Likewise, I've long dreamt of a Nigerian-fusion dishes which are finally becoming possible through increased exposure. However, I am primarily skeptical regarding the influence of cultural convergence with Afrobeats due to the propensity for its assetisation.
Assetisation is a key aspect of technoscientific capitalism wherein non-financial mediums are transformed into financial assets which holds value in the market. According to Kean Birch, assetisation supersedes commodification, as the former involves ownership whereas the latter allows for investments and subsequent returns. Therefore, the newly-converted asset becomes a mechanism which can be controlled, traded, and capitalised through the revenue stream.
Many art forms have been commodified for centuries, and music is no different. However, music has become easier to assetise due to its low barrier to entry for consumption and increased accessibility through digital streaming services. We've seen this happen through increased vehicles for investment within the music industry, primarily through the artists' catalogues and royalties. Over time, the artists' output becomes the means for rent extraction, both in the short- and long-run. This isn't inherently problematic, as the process is voluntary and requires artists' consent and the artists stand a chance to benefit.
The music industry has established a clear pattern when it comes to artists' rights and ownership. Artists typically sell the rights to their original recordings (the 'masters') to companies, granting them ownership over these recordings. These companies can then monetise them through streaming, licensing, or further sales to other entities. While artists receive either upfront payments or future profit shares, these deals effectively transfer the long-term earning potential to corporate entities. Hipgnosis, a Blackstone-owned music rights investment and management company, is a key player in this trend and regularly purchases notable artists' catalogues notable catalogues. By doing so, the company generates income from their royalties and licensing, driven by the value of the masters; they've acquired artists like Shakira and Justin Bieber's catalogues for $100m and $200m respectively.
My concerns regarding Afrobeats deepen with the influx of labels such as UMG, Atlantic, DefJam and Warner Music which have all signed, partnered with, or acquired Nigerian record labels or artists. Given Afrobeats' growing global popularity, and Africa's increasing recognition as an emerging market in terms of technology and culture, I wouldn't be surprised to see artists like Rema or Burna Boy sell their catalogues over the next 7-10 years.
The discourse around artists selling their masters is complex enough in most cases. However, it becomes more significant in cases where music transcends mere entertainment. For many of our artists, global success represents far more than growth, but the shattering of barriers and the creation of pathways for future stars. It signals a bold representation of our country, despite its tumultuous past and seemingly bleak future. Even though Fela partnered with labels such as EMI and MCA, he would be rolling in his grave if he saw our artists signing away ownership of their catalogs. I'm aware this hasn't happened yet, but it looms on the horizon.
Altering our sound for mass appeal is bittersweet in itself, but signing away ownership of our music raises profound questions about who truly owns our culture. While the financial incentives are evident and enticing, the artists are obliged to hold onto what we can still call ours.
The stakes are fundamentally different for our artists compared to their British or American counterparts who might sell their masters to these same companies. We must remember that this isn't a level playing field, and the rules which apply to our global counterparts carry different implications for us. Lest we forget, these were our literal masters less than a century ago, and the word means something very different to our people. The word carries a weight of history that we cannot ignore.
The next few years will be crucial in determining whether Afrobeats can maintain its cultural integrity while achieving global success. As more foreign labels and investment vehicles turn their attention to African music, our artists face increasingly complex choices about ownership and control. We can already see the warning signs and must therefore act quickly. Without considering these developments now, we might wake up one day to find that Afrobeats, like many African resources before it, has become another asset to be extracted, packaged, and sold back to us.
Thanks to Buomie Oruene and Toni Adejuyigbe for reading multiple drafts of this.