How Rema Reimagined Afropop To Find His Sound on “HEIS”

Rema’s HEIS could be the soundtrack to an antihero film. Big drums underscore his many pompous self-proclamations in capital letters, while the sinister keys that intersperse them provide them a scary, evil temperament. It’s exactly the project he needed to fulfill his career’s direction and tie up many of his creative choices over the years: his use of goth clandestine imagery, his nose for experimentation and pushing sonic boundaries, and his undiminishing confidence and ambition. It’s been proclaimed in many quarters as a sonic reset, being one of the first major albums to turn away from Amapiano in a year when Nigerian pop looks to have severed, at least partially, its four-year connection with the South African genre.

Being the unconventional turn that it is, HEIS did not receive only warm reviews. Some critics panned Rema’s eccentricity and particularly grappled with his brash means of presenting his arguments. For most, however, it is regarded as a best-in-class sonic offering, earning the 11th spot on Rolling Stone’s 2024 Albums of the Year and becoming Culture Custodian’s Album of the Year. It has spurred a creative pivot from some quarters in the industry—sometimes overt, like Khaid’s latest single, Orobo, which he announced by raising a glass to Rema; but more often covert, in how the major Pop releases this year—like Wizkid’s Kese—have leaned on early Afropop swagger for their verve. Influences in the latter category will be difficult to prove, but by causation or chronology, Rema’s unconventional creation with HEIS has set the pace for a new era in Afropop.

From the days of his nascent career, Rema’s artistry has been in constant motion. Five years ago, his eponymous debut EP introduced him as an Afropop ace in songs like Dumebi, Corny, and Iron Man, while his tonal delivery displayed some measure of influence from Bollywood music from India. The final song on the EP, Why, was cut from a different cloth, where Trap and Emo combine for trippy, shimmering music. A few months later he fleshed out this side of his craft on Freestyle EP, which led to the duplicity of Rema’s artistry and discography and the creation of the “Trap Rema” alter-ego. A little down the line, still in 2019, mind, Rema released a third EP, Bad Commando, introducing four new songs that displayed as much versatility as ever, particularly Lady, a luscious, energetic brand of Dancehall-inflected Afropop, which he would return to in later years. These early days, particularly the Bad Commando EP, were significant for a few reasons. They showed his keenness to not only experiment but to switch from a sound after succeeding with it, while Bad Commando, its titular track, was the first to display the chest-thumping ego that would become the cornerstone of HEIS’ ethos.

His next set of singles pulled him in various directions, but with his debut album, Raves and Roses, Rema struggled to balance all sides of himself in fifty-nine long minutes. He fine-tuned his efforts somewhat for the deluxe, which was the first proper step towards HEIS—if not always in sound then in theme. Dunno Me (freestyle) talked up his range and dynamism, recruiting Mavin A&R Rima Tahini to reiterate his ingenuity: “He’s always very true to himself, and I think he remains original.” HOV captured the sound more accurately, being built on brisk beat patterns and some of Rema’s most introspective songwriting.

It wasn’t until Ravage, Rema’s release late last year, that he assembled all the elements he would need for HEIS and the next stage of his career. Much like Wizkid’s Soundman Vol. 1 of 2019, it was a forerunner, released to gauge the market’s reactions to a new sound and to prepare them for its eventual debut. Ravage was confident, energetic, and unapologetically sexual, coalescing parts of Rema that we always knew were there into one scintillating, macabre project. It triggered as much controversy as it did praise—some of Rema’s imagery around the EP, like his bats or chariots of fire, were touted as devilish by more superstitious Nigerians.

And yet, HEIS was a continuation down that path. It turned down Ravage’s sultriness significantly, as Rema turned the camera on himself—his abilities, his very large bank account, and his status amongst Nigeria’s elite artists. It was a sonic reset in many ways, but more importantly, it was a recollection, a return to many previous Afropop eras that were either too ancient—like his use of Galala-esque drum patterns, or too obscure—like the percussive sounds of Azaman and HEIS influenced by music from Northern Nigeria—to be parts of mainstream Nigerian music. Rema described his vision for HEIS as bringing back the essence of our roots in a time when Afrobeats artists were “listening to the voices of the world too much,” and the acclaim it has received shows how much Nigerians were eager for the change of pace he has provided.