What Nigerian music will I find to guide me through aging and maturity in life?

I walked into my apartment today and I feel a little bit old. I have an apartment now. My apartment that clearly belongs to me.

The last time I felt this way was when I was leaving my parent’s house at 20 years old, pushing for the bright lights of Lagos. I had just come out of four years of a worthless degree in Basic Medical Sciences, and I was at a crossroad of what to do with my talent.

I chose Lagos and the allure of the media, simply because it came natural to me. 5 years down the line, and growth has been achieved. I have watched my friends move from schools to work, and any take up the beauty and responsibility of marriage and parenthood. Pretty soon, a new set of children will be running around the neighbourhood, and screaming their hearts around in bouncing joy. And I would be personal friends with their parents. They would call me Uncle Joey. Old Uncle Joey.

As a member of the generation who were born in the 90’s, I look around and appreciate that we have all grown. We are all in diverse ways, experiencing the pangs of quarter life crisis. Living has moved from endless happy days of play and school, to figuring out how this adult thing works. How to thrive and not just survive in a world where you get what you earn. Not what you deserve.

I turn on the radio and there’s a new Psquare song. It’s titled ‘Away’, and as I listen, I fail to feel a connection to it. There’s nothing in that song for me. The lines, the melody, the lyrical composition, nothing touches me in the way that my heart yearns to be touched. It’s useless to my desire, and immaterial to my craving.

It’s not just the new Psquare song. These days, all of the music that we consume from radio has almost the same reaction from me. Nothing ever pierces through my heart, and provides succor and connection. And it’s not solely their fault. It is also mine. At 25 years, I have grown up. But my Nigerian artists have refused to grow up with me.

It’s hard to find a Nigerian artist who doesn’t grow personally. But their music never moves with them. They cling on to their youthfulness like a badge, even after they move past the time and age to still pull off that. That’s one of the reasons why they never last. They do the same thing over and over again, utilizing their youthful shine, and when they begin to age in life and age, they still fail to include that into the music. The music becomes stale.

‘Shake your bum bum’, ‘the girl is fine’, ‘pop some chamapagne’, ‘Thunder fire haters’, and ‘I love you pass jollof’ – the formula for making Nigerian pop songs have lost all the zeal and newness for people who have actively followed the music and embraced it as a tool for sensual and creative upliftment. It feels like a cycle of the same songs, with different melodies and performers.

I can still listen objectively, enjoy the sounds and analyze – telling you why Tekno is better than a fluke, how Humblesmith’s future in the mainstream is not a possibility, detailing the power in Kiss Daniel’s creativity, dissecting Korede Bello’s tricks to staying at the top and many more – yet a lot of the music fails to make the spirit move, or give you hope for the future of the art. Most of these artists are dominating, but personally, they are pushing me away from the music when I really need it as food for my soul. We are getting too old for it.

I don’t want a 40 year old 2face Idibia to make songs about ‘having sex in the club’, or chasing a girl with the sole aim of having casual sex. He is past that. And his music should reflect that. He is a father of many nations now, and his actions should be more concerned with creating a better world for fruits of his loins.

He should be obsessed with inward explorations and artistic activism for social justice. He should be more interested in how the world around him is marching towards a total failure, and how his kids will grow up in a version of Nigeria that is worse than the one he grew up in. If these realizations hit him hard, it will keep awake at night, and his art will be a reflection of that.

The same can be said of Psquare, who have grown in their private lives but the music continuously disappoints when viewed in that regard. Most of us their core fans still follow their careers, but there’s truly nothing in it for us as we age alongside them. They are still pop stars, with no diversification or depth. The kind of depth that age brings to glorify what’s left of your time on earth. They lack perspective in creativity.

We are a market that is ready to be tapped and serviced. Our needs might not be massive, but they exist in this space, and we have to find a supply. These days we find solace in the people from Soundcloud. Those artistes who are predominantly young, but grasp cosmic truths and progressive ideas of how the world ought to be.

Those artistes who are young of age but exhibit wisdom in dissecting human nature and our expressions of living in a dynamic world. They mirror our everyday reality. Odunsi, Lady Donli, Tay Iwar, Santi, and their lot capture all of what we ought to be and show us the world via artistic eyes. There’s also Lindsey Abudei, whose “And The Bass Is Queen” album was a soulful massage of my music palette. Bez still stands as a beacon of hope, shining his light on all who seek illumination.

We turn to these people, or look outside the country to various artistes who can feed us with material to mature us more, to let us understand that our tastes are changing, and we can find acceptance in art and connection when someone grabs the mic.

Nigerian pop music is not dead. These artists have it in their belly to generate diverse and deep music. Simi, Bez, Falz, and a lot more are creating these sngs. But the quantity is too small, and they hide it within albums and fail to send it to radio. I don’t hate the music that makes radio. I just don’t let it pass the edges of my artistic appreciation because it has nothing for me.

Pop music is youthful, and children will always be the ones who move the culture. And for people like me who are on the verge of transforming into a man, there’s not a lot to look forward to. In the end, youth is in the mind, and the music can be enjoyed without any deep connection. It doesn’t have to suit my lifestyle and preferences, neither is there any rule in creating it. Age simply influences how I connect to the music, not whether I enjoy it.

I am not the ideal adult person, even though I contribute to society. Writing about Tekno and ‘Cassava’ while sipping on coke in an office is not exactly the picture of being grownup that I envisaged as a youth. But I feel the age coming, and I have to make adjustments for that. I can’t eat junk food all day because I need more than empty chow. I need nutrients to power my body forward in health.

In that same way, I need good music, not fluffy garbage. We, the growing and maturing population need more than pop music is currently serving society right now. I am a man, I have bills, I have worries and all of my blissful days of irresponsibility are at its end. That time didn’t last forever, and I don’t expect it to. My generation is showing growth and gradually taking charge of the reins of life, and steering it in the direction that we collectively deem fit and cool.

I see a future for every one of us. I see me getting old and gray, and finding out that my wife has given birth to a son or daughter. I see myself graying with laughter and embracing my mortality as I go. I see what lies ahead, and music is a part of it. I don’t want pop to go, but I also want to look forward into time, and project that there will still be music to accompany me into that future.

I have begun to search for artists whose music can serve as a soothing and inspirational elixir into that world. Some creative people who would make me embrace this future with open arms, and stare death in the eye, knowing that I have enjoyed earth through music. I hope it happens. Otherwise, growing old in Nigeria will be a battle for lovers of the art.

Here’s to hoping we all find what we need to get through in life.