Been gone for a minute…
While I Really Mean It took Summer ‘22 to breathe, one Nigerian song was busy taking no days off. “Last Last,” Burna Boy’s offering to music’s collection of timeless anthems, served as the soundtrack to a monumental summer back Outside (*pun intended lol). In the span of just three months, “Last Last” has hit over 100 million streams on Spotify, inching closer to records set by Burna’s previous singles “Ye” and “On the Low.”
Midway through his landmark gig at Madison Square Garden, Damini teased the song that’ll likely go down as one of his biggest hits. I instantly fell in love with the track but was cognizant enough to know that I had danced the night away in the midst of a sold-out crowd at the world’s most respected venue. For those three hours, Burna could do no wrong in my eyes. However, when “Last Last” dropped a month later, it became evident to me that the song was not only a rare glance at a heartbroken Nigerian man but that it was also likely to exceed already high expectations. Not because I happen to know the entire choreography to the scathing Toni Braxton diss record it samples (Yes, “He Wasn’t Man Enough” is a diss track. Word to “Don’t you know I dumped your husband…girlfriend?”) but because “Last Last” had all the makings of a perfect storm:
A nostalgic and universally loved Darkchild sample
Salacious breakup drama brewing on the blogs
Early use of a choir
that now seems to now be working overtime on every Nigerian song and may have been contracted to DVSNA world full of young people
willing to ignore Omicrondetermined to make up for two lackluster summers.
The most interesting phenomenon concerning “Last Last” isn’t its vulnerability or success. The song’s most transformative feature is its ability to reframe a supposed handicap for Nigerian artists playing at the global level into its greatest marketing asset. In recent years, an assumption has emerged within the industry that songs that heavily rely on Yoruba, “deep” Pidgin or any non-English language are an obstacle to international success. Some artists have found ways to compromise; for example, Wizkid increasingly limits Yoruba to the verses of his songs because at the end of the day, imagine trying to translate gbedu into English. Others have resorted to making music that sonically belongs to everywhere and nowhere, which I generally don’t have a problem with because we should also be allowed the privilege of mediocrity.

But then there’s “Last Last,” a record-breaking song powered by two not-easily-decipherable Nigerian colloquialisms. Down to its name, the 2022 summer anthem is intrinsically Nigerian…at least in writing. “Last Last,” is punctuated by the catchy call and response of “igbo and shayo” and opens with a cautionary warning about “chopping breakfast.” These phrases aren’t made up of traditional Yoruba or Igbo words that the latest World Music writer at *insert legacy publication* can easily Google translate. Using the phrase “last last” or “chop breakfast” correctly requires a certain closeness and active participation in the culture. And to be frank, the gatekeeper in me appreciates that.
While it was true that non-Nigerian audiences had no clue what these slangs meant, deciphering their meaning became central to the song’s virality. Social media was filled with videos of translations and humorous alternatives to lyrics. From the customary “a boat and shy hoes” vacation TikToks to tweets asking, “Who is Soboma?”, the record became its own content engine. Not understanding the lyrics didn’t mean non-Nigerian audiences couldn’t participate, it just meant that they engaged differently.
It is tempting to excuse “Last Last,” as the exception to the rule but the success of another 2022 standout reinforces that language may not be as much of a barrier as assumed. Asake, who has snuck his way into all but one edition of this newsletter, unleashed a trilogy of hits onto Summer ‘22. While much has been written about Asake’s use of Amapiano, the bedrock of Asake’s trance-inducing melodies is Fuji music — A Yoruba genre with its origins in a singing style used to wake Muslims up for prayer during Ramadan. With its intricate rhyme scheme and elements of praise singing, a song like “Palazzo,” could never have been made entirely in English. To go a step further, it could only have been created in Yoruba. “Palazzo” also marked the beginning of Asake flirting with a rollout strategy that co-opted a rapidly growing fanbase’s fascination with his lyrics. Learning and deciphering the words to Asake’s singles before they dropped became a running joke online and by the time “Peace Be Unto You” was released, Asake figured it made sense to include lyrics in the official video.
The trajectory of these two songs is indicative of a subtle yet impactful moment in Nigerian pop culture’s journey. I never quite agreed with asking artists to whitewash their music but it isn’t lost on me that musicians like Asake don’t usually blow up outside the continent at this speed. In fact, this same language argument has been used against Olamide, the artist Asake is signed to. Beyond our music being played on mainstream platforms globally, we’re moving into a moment where listeners are now equipped with the reference points, tools, and language to engage with the more nuanced aspects of the culture. Understanding a language is one thing but “getting it” — the slangs, jokes and catchphrases — is a greater indicator of true connection.


In my opinion, music responds best to the truth. I believe Tems singing mostly in English the same way I believe Flavour singing mostly in Igbo and Omah Lay in Pidgin. We’re blessed to be witnessing the beginning of an era where our artists can embrace what comes naturally without it putting a ceiling on their careers.
Other Things I Really Mean
Earlier in the summer, I got to speak with Mr. Eazi and Temi Otedola for ESSENCE. It was the couple’s first ever joint interview and was published shortly after their stunning engagement. It took us a while to schedule but I appreciated how open, honest and relaxed both Eazi and Temi were with me. They’re an easy pair to be around. The interview captures their love story but for the sake of word count, leaves quite a bit out! Here’s are a few interesting excerpts that didn’t make it:
Like everyone else, the pandemic taught them a few things about each other.
“Taking social media’s obsession with #couplegoals at face value, it’s hard to believe that the Instagram darlings don’t live a completely charmed life. However, like most couples, Eazi and Temi’s relationship experienced growing pains during the pandemic. “The pandemic was actually insane for us because it was our first time ever being together consecutively for like four months,” says Temi of the nomadic couple’s stint trapped on a remote farm in the English countryside. “It got us to learn more about ourselves in the ways that would probably have taken years to learn,” adds Eazi. For him, the shock of seeing both his parents sick freed him to embrace how much Temi had changed his understanding of love. “Being with Temi started to help me connect with my family,” says Eazi, who left boarding school in Nigeria for university in Ghana at 15. “I thought I was so close with my dad until I saw a different way to be close to your parents,” Eazi continues.“Why is it weird to tell your mom and dad that you love them when you actually do!”
Temi, who is undecided but will likely hyphenate her last name, is very sure of who she is.
“If I didn’t grow up with my dad, I would think about it more,” Temi responds, when asked if adding “Mr Eazi’s wife” to a list of distracting titles troubles her. “From a young age, that’s been the background noise. So luckily it’s not something that affects me.” The Women At Risk International Foundation (WARIF) ambassador is also thinking about the ways Nigerian women are raised to think about marriage. “When people tell you to get married in three months, ask them why?” she says with a look of bewilderment. “I feel like as Nigerians, we feel the need to follow this textbook and we need to ask why?”
When it comes to work, they’re big on using each other as a sounding board.
“To have someone who is so wise who can I speak to to get perspective. I can overstress about certain things and just to have someone who is so calming has been amazing,” shares Temi.
Mr Eazi thinks Temi is the “hard guy” of the relationship.
“After this call, this video of what she just said, please send it to me. She’s always doing hard hard guy hard guy. So any time she drops this type of we have to make it an NFT,” jokes Eazi.
They may elope?
“We haven’t even started planning a wedding. Temi and I can just go somewhere and get married,” says Mr Eazi.
Read the full interview here.
Love to See It
Solange Knowles adds New York City Ballet composer to her list of creative hats.
Fall is gala season in New York and few things are more New York than a gala chaired by Sarah Jessica Parker. The New York City Ballet’s Fall Fashion Gala played host to Solange’s debut as a ballet composer. Play Time, a piece choreographed by Gianna Reisen and set to a score commissioned from Solange, premiered at the 10th anniversary of the gala in September. This feels like a logical step following Solange’s breathtaking 2017 presentation of A Seat At The Table at the Guggenheim Museum.
More of this please.
Hate to See It
Solange is the third woman ever and the second Black woman to have a score commissioned by the New York City Ballet.
SELECTA
Seven songs I had on my mind over the summer:
Sondela by Venom featuring Yumbs, Raspy, Blxckie, Riky Rick and Tshego
Iced Out Summer by Ragz Originale
Queen Space by Ari Lennox featuring Summer Walker
Wifey Riddim by Tinie Tempah
Feel Free (Blue Canariñho Remix) by CassKidd x Ogranya
No Bobby V by Lobby Boyz
Hey Hey Girl by The Virgins