Is Tyla’s “A*POP” A Case of False Advertising?

Marketing in music matters because it shapes expectations, builds anticipation, and tells listeners what kind of artistic statement they’re about to experience. Tyla’s A*POP’s rollout was built almost entirely around neon, the tracklist painted every song title in fluorescent colour against a blue backdrop, staged like its own music video moment, a rollout so deliberately eventful that it read as a statement of intent, not just a promo drop. All promotional material was saturated in neon and fluorescent tones, the kind of visual language that signalled hyperpop or maximalist club music before a single second of the album had played. That aesthetic was the whole pitch: which read like African Pop, reimagined and turned electric.

Which makes it notable that Tyla herself doesn’t seem sold on it. In an interview with NME timed to the album’s release, she was asked to break down the neon-heavy visual world she’d built for A*POP, and her answer wasn’t a defence of the concept. “Yesterday, I was like I wanna change it now. I’m creating this whole thing and now I’m kind of like I want to do more of this and that. With this album run, I just wanna do what I wanna do in the moment,” she said.

When asked how that squared with an aesthetic already released into the world, she explained that she doesn’t want the visuals to be something she’s locked into, that this album cycle is about doing what feels right in the moment rather than committing to one look for its duration. “I don’t think it has to be a planned thing that you stick to 24/7 because I’m also not gimmicky, I don’t like forcing myself to stick to one thing just because it’s an era. I like what I like when I like it and I want to be able to do that,” she said.

Pop music right now runs on “eras”: a defined visual and sonic package an artist commits to for an album cycle, partly because audiences have been trained by the format to expect it. That structure rewards consistency and punishes drift, which means artists can end up performing an aesthetic long after they’ve outgrown it, because breaking from it mid-cycle looks like a lack of vision rather than growth. Tyla’s comment reads like a quiet resistance to that trap, a refusal to treat the A*POP aesthetic as a costume she’s obliged to

wear until the next album justifies changing it. But it also means the version of A*POP that reached listeners was still wrapped in a visual promise its own creator was already outgrowing before release day, and that gap between the packaging and the artist’s actual relationship to it is where some of the “false advertising” read comes from.

Once you strip away the neon, A*POP isn’t the bold reinvention it is sold as. It’s largely an extension of the polished pop-R&B combination that made Tyla a global star, with psychedelic instrumentals and occasional touches of South African dance music layered on top. It’s enjoyable and clearly well-produced, but it also feels like a record that oversold its own ambition.

There are moments where it briefly becomes what the marketing promised. Crazy of Me and Is It flirt with the Amapiano-Afro-house-pop fusion Tyla is known for while Kiss is one of the record’s genuine triumphs, hypnotic rhythms and shimmering synths that land like a Johannesburg nightclub. It’s vibrant, immersive, effortlessly cool.

Those moments are exceptions, though. Much of A*POP settles into familiar contemporary pop and R&B territory, slow-burning love songs, and production that rarely builds to anything. The psychedelic synth textures make for an interesting backdrop, but they’re not distinct enough to separate these songs from the broader pop landscape.

The record isn’t bad, it’s quite the opposite. Every song is polished with real precision, Tyla’s vocals are impressive, and the production is pristine throughout. The issue is the expectation, an album introduced as a celebration of African pop’s future should push boundaries, and too often A*POP is content polishing what already worked on Tyla’s debut rather than expanding on it. The South African influences are present, but they read as embellishment more often than foundation, seasoning instead of the main ingredient.

A*POP‘s most beautiful moment is Fairytale, Tyla’s reimagining of Liquideep’s classic. It becomes the record’s emotional anchor, a song with the warmth and sincerity the rest of the album spends its runtime searching for. Instead of chasing international trends, Tyla looks homeward, revisiting one of South Africa’s most cherished records with real affection. It feels personal, and even listeners unfamiliar with the original can hear that authenticity.

The irony is that the album’s strongest moments are also its most culturally confident ones. Fairytale proves Tyla doesn’t need to leave home to make something globally resonant; if anything, the closer she stays to her roots, the more distinctive her artistry gets.

Crazy of Me floats beautifully alongside MaWhoo over understated Afropiano production, while I Don’t Care, featuring Babalwa M, delivers one of the album’s most hypnotic Afro-house sounds. Both prove that when Tyla fully commits to local sound instead of referencing it, the results land. Double Blind and She Did It Again, with Zara Larsson, are undeniable no-skips, polished hooks, addictive melodies.

A*POP’s rollout hasn’t stopped at the album. Tyla has unveiled a 29-city A*POP World Tour starting in Paris this October and running through Europe and North America before closing in Africa with dates in Johannesburg and Cape Town, an ambitious victory lap for an artist who’s now two albums and a Grammy into a global career that started with Water.

Lagos was originally on that itinerary too, however it didn’t survive contact with the news cycle. The announcement landed amidst months of xenophobic violence against Nigerians and other African foreign nationals in South Africa. Nigerians called for a boycott, citing that booking a South African star into Lagos considering the victimisation of fellow citizens in her country is inappropriate. Within days, the Lagos date was quietly removed from Tyla’s tour website.

A*POP isn’t a disappointing album because it is poorly made, it’s disappointing because it was marketed as a fearless leap into African electronic-pop innovation and mostly settled into safe, radio-friendly pop and R&B with occasional South African accents. The neon rollout, the tracklist reveal, the framing around “the A in pop” all promised something the record only delivers in flashes. Tyla’s own admission that she’s already outgrowing the aesthetic she built this era around only underscores the gap: even she seems aware the packaging oversold the contents. A*POP is still an enjoyable listen. It just never fully becomes the daring African pop revolution its own marketing promised.