The Trend in Nigerian Music Industry: change and revolution

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By Odukogbe Abisola

The Nigerian music industry has undergone a remarkable transformation over the past two decades. From the early 2000s, when artists like Asa, Brymo, and 2Baba made songs fly with meaning and emotion, to today’s era dominated by catchy beats and viral dance hits, the evolution has been both intriguing and interesting.

In the early days of contemporary Nigerian music, artistry was rooted in storytelling, consciousness, and emotion. Asa’s Fire on the Mountain was not just a song, it was a cry for awareness, confronting political instability and social unrest. 2Baba’s African Queen celebrated African beauty and timeless love, while Brymo’s poetic lyricism in songs like Ara captured the essence of identity and introspection. Even Lagbaja, the masked musical enigma, used his art to challenge societal norms and question authority through classics like Konko Below and Gra Gra. Music in that era was an art of reflection, songs spoke to the mind, lifted the heart, and sometimes even ignited revolutions in thought.

However, the 2010s brought with them a new rhythm, a new sensibility, and a new audience. With globalization, internet access, and the rise of streaming platforms, Nigerian music began to cross borders. The genre popularly known as Afrobeats emerged, led by trailblazers like Wizkid, Davido, and Burna Boy. The world began to dance to Nigerian sounds, and the global spotlight shifted toward Lagos. Yet, in the pursuit of international recognition, the weight of lyricism began to give way to rhythm, vibe, and sound.

A perfect example of this evolution is Wizkid himself. His 2014 hit Ojuelegba painted a vivid picture of his struggles and journey to fame, a song filled with hope, and humility. But as his music became more global, his sound shifted. In songs like Essence and Bad to Me, the focus turned toward rhythm, sensuality, and lifestyle. It wasn’t necessarily a loss of depth, but rather a recalibration of purpose. Wizkid, like many others, began making music for a wider world, songs that sound good everywhere, even if they don’t say much.

This shift was amplified by the rise of social media platforms such as TikTok, Spotify, and YouTube. These platforms reshaped how music is consumed and popularized. Suddenly, virality became a metric of success. A track that could inspire a 15-second dance challenge or a catchy hook was more likely to dominate charts than one that carried a heavy message. The demand for instant gratification changed how artists wrote, produced, and promoted their work.

Yet, this transformation also reflects the changing temperament of the Nigerian audience. Today’s listeners, especially young Nigerians, are navigating a world of uncertainty, economic pressure, and constant digital noise. For many, music serves as a form of escape rather than reflection. Arya Starr’s bold confidence, Rema’s futuristic sound, and Asake’s street-inspired energy all mirror a generation that wants to feel free, vibrant, and seen. These artists embody the present mood of youth culture, driven by rhythm, energy, and a thirst for joy in the midst of chaos.

Still, nostalgia lingers. Many Nigerians miss the music that once told stories about life, hope, and resilience. They miss when Lagbaja could make a political statement with a saxophone solo, or when Asa’s lyrics could soothe the soul and awaken conscience. The songs of that era didn’t just make you dance, they made you think.

Nonetheless, it would be unfair to say that today’s artists lack depth. Burna Boy, for instance, has balanced activism and appeal, fusing global rhythms with powerful commentary on identity and African pride. Tems and Johnny Drille bring vulnerability and emotion back to the forefront, proving that meaning still finds its way into melody when intention meets talent.

Technology, too, deserves its credit, and its critique. Music production is now faster, cleaner, and more accessible. Collaborations that once seemed impossible happen within hours across continents. This digital revolution has made Nigerian music one of the most recognized exports in the world. Yet, it has also created a sound that sometimes feels less rooted, more designed for algorithms than for hearts.

Ultimately, the evolution of Nigerian music mirrors the evolution of Nigerian society. Each era produces the sound that its people need. The old songs spoke to the soul, calling for reflection and reform; the new ones move the body, offering rhythm and release. Both are valid, both are necessary.

Nigerian music continues to evolve, not as a story of loss, but of transformation. It reminds us that music, like culture, bends with time. Whether through Asa’s haunting melodies or Rema’s pulsating beats, the essence remains: the rhythm of a people finding new ways to tell their stories to the world.