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Khaid, born Sulaimon Shekoni Solomon, presents a paradox. Preternaturally adept at shapeshifting, at shedding old sounds in favor of new ones, at straddling multiple genres with dexterity and aplomb, he’s at once exciting and opaque. After all, who really is the man who’s able to seamlessly slip between roles and personas? In 444, a three-track […]
Khaid, born Sulaimon Shekoni Solomon, presents a paradox. Preternaturally adept at shapeshifting, at shedding old sounds in favor of new ones, at straddling multiple genres with dexterity and aplomb, he’s at once exciting and opaque. After all, who really is the man who’s able to seamlessly slip between roles and personas?
In 444, a three-track project Khaid released last year, he starts in melancholy terrain. In I Don’t Wanna Die, which opens the project, he affects the tormented artist archetype. Over chilling chords and languid trap drums he raps: “Doctor says I’ll be alright but I’m not sure/ If I go to sleep tonight, I’ll die/ Seems so awkward.” What makes this song especially poignant is that it was released against the backdrop of a health scare that left him confined to a hospital bed for weeks. As such it takes on a lived, diaristic tone. But just when we start to settle into the melancholy atmosphere the song conjures, he abruptly changes tack. On the second track, Way Back, which features Olamide, he’s impish and cheeky, generously dishing out playful sing-songy lines. Letter From My Bro, which closes the project, maintains the chipper atmosphere of Way Back but takes a different stylistic approach, mirroring the bucolic tone of old Nollywood home video soundtracks.
We caught up on a windy afternoon in October. He wore a crisp white shirt, elevated by the bedazzled neckpiece hanging down his neck. He has a tendency for punctuating his sentences with a terse: “You feel me?” and twirling his golden locs with his fingers like a hyperactive kid poised to break out from the classroom in favor of a more stimulating experience at the playground. At the heart of our conversation was his chameleonic personality. Nonetheless, our conversation traversed a range of topics. Among them his newly released single Rover, which weaves ebullience and introspection into a dazzling spectacle; his turbulent upbringing; exclusive updates on an imminent Hip Hop project; and details on his time at the hospital last year.
The conversation, transcribed below, has been lightly edited for clarity
What does a typical day look like for you?
After I wake up, I record. Sometimes I eat first. Other times, I think of a new idea or whatever it is I can do to make sure that I progress that day.
I know a lot of artists work around the clock, recording at night or in the afternoon, or in the morning. Outside of recording and everything else you do as an artist, what do you do for fun?
I really don’t know. Sometimes I read my Bible. Sometimes I play around with friends. I like playing around, so my life doesn’t get too serious. I like playing snooker. But I also like to study, learn new things.
What kind of things are you typically interested in studying?
I like to study life. I like to study the laws of the world. And you know, girls. (Laughs)
Let’s talk about your latest single Rover, featuring Ayo Maff. I think it’s a great song; your chemistry with Ayo is sublime.
Thank you so much. Which of my verses do you prefer?
I’d say your second verse. The first is more playful, more upbeat. But in the second verse, you dial down to a contemplative register. Listening, one feels that you wanted to get a lot of things off your chest in that second verse. But it’s not so somber that it dampens the song’s chipper vibe.
Interesting. So, how many streams have you given me?
I don’t know, man. (Laughs) I’ve listened a couple of times.
All right. Give me more streams if you can.
Talk to me about how Rover came together.
I went to the studio on a very good day, some time last year. My producer had played this fire beat. Shout out to BMH. I connected instantly because the beat sounded really distinct. And that made me come at the song in a different way.
So, how did Ayo Maff, the guest artist, come into the picture?
I had the song for a while and was playing it for people. Most people told me Ayo would kill it and fortunately, he delivered.
Can you tell me some of the people who referred you to Ayo Maff?
My manager Jack. (Laughs) Just my manager Jack.
In one of the promotional videos on your Instagram, you choreograph the happy family with your parents. Specifically, you play the song for them and they, in turn, dispatch excited reactions. How close would you say you are to your parents?
I don’t know. I think that’s for my parents to judge. But I’m definitely going to say I’m close to my parents. I don’t even know if I’m close to them. I talk to them every now and then. You know I have my dad coming almost every time. I have my mom come in when she’s free. So on my part, I think I’m trying. I can’t put a rating on how close I am to them.
Do you have siblings?
Yeah, I have eight siblings.
Wow.
I’m the fifth child. But I never really grew up with my brothers and sisters. We were just scattered everywhere, living with distant extended relatives. It was just me, my junior brother, my junior sister, and one of my older sisters who really grew up with my parents. At one point the whole family lived together but financial circumstances dispersed us. But it was great growing up. I was raised well. But at some point, I fell victim to my environment. My mom was a hairdresser and then she transitioned to selling food and then teaching. She did other stuff too. My dad was a tailor. So, they were barely at home. Growing up in that kind of environment, you get exposed to the streets. I would say I was raised by the streets.
Would you characterize your childhood as bumpy?
Yeah. It was like a whole lot of stuff going on at once.
In your view, how did your tumultuous childhood affect you?
I have no idea what brotherly or sisterly love is. Although I have a senior brother, I don’t exactly know what it feels like to have one. You know, I didn’t live with my older brother like that? So I really don’t know what a senior brother’s love or a senior sister’s love is. I don’t know if you feel me? All my life I’ve had to take care of myself.
You had to grow up early.
Yes. I also had to learn a lot from living on the street and living with some of the OGs in my area at the time because I never used to be at home.
My impression of you, from following your career, industry chatter, and, of course, this conversation, is that you’re especially adept at adapting to different situations. Is this assessment correct?
Yeah. That is it basically. I’m very lively in person, but people on the internet don’t see me that way. I think they see me as just one chill guy. I’m a chill guy, though. But when you grow up in the streets, you get into so many different situations that teach you how to blend into virtually every situation. As a kid, my sister and I would steal things and act perfectly natural as we made away, that’s how you don’t get caught. I think that’s the beginning of blending into any situation. You feel me?
Last year, during Rema’s listening party, he was surrounded by a coterie of, I think, friends dressed in black. Among them were Crayon, Korty EO, Dice Ailes, Zerry DL, Kida Kudz, and you. What’s your relationship with him like? Because he’s also somebody who had to fend for himself early.
I relate to him on so many levels. I used to tell people I feel like he is an earlier version of me, like somebody that came before me. It’s like he’s me because so many times I conceive of ideas and two weeks later I see Rema putting out the same idea. I think we think alike. So when we speak he always echoes things that are on my mind already but from his own perspective.
Interesting. I think another interesting similarity you guys share is the fact that you both started as rappers. I mean you both still occasionally tap into your Hip Hop roots but you are more Afrobeats facing now. Slight pivot, I Don’t Wanna Die from your 444 EP is fire, you should trap more. Should we expect more hip-hop records from you soon?
Definitely. I’m just trying to solidify the Afrobeats part. When I have that down, I think I’ll feel free to do whatever I want to do.
I’m very curious about your come-up story. Every time I’ve tried to do some research about you, what has turned up is a super tidy, boilerplate story about how Sydney Talker mysteriously discovered and platformed you. What’s the full story?
I don’t know how I got signed. It was so easy to be honest. I got a text from Sydney (Talker). Initially, I didn’t believe it was him; I had to check several times. He had asked if I was on the Island. I was in Yaba but I lied that I was on the Island, so I ended up going that day. We freestyled. We made about six trap songs. We made about six trap songs. And he was like, “Okay, we’re going to link later.” But like while I headed out, he just said: “I want to sign you. You’re signed.” It was almost funny. In my mind, I said, “Jesus, what type of signing is this?” It was so easy.
I imagine the real work started when you got signed.
Yeah. When I got signed, the real work started. It took about two years before I started releasing music.
So, what were you doing in those two years?
If you were an early fan you’d know I used to post freestyles and covers on my page. Nobody knew I was signed but I was trying to put myself out there and I actually started to get a bit of traction.
Last year, you had a bit of a health scare or rather you were in the hospital for an undisclosed ailment. We’re glad to have you back in good health but what exactly happened? The details on all of that are still hazy.
The truth is that I got attacked by some guys. I grew up in the trenches, so there’s a whole lot of this and that. I did a lot of things in the past, many of which I’d even forgotten. You know what they say about karma? Well, that was my karma. So I just took it as it came.
We’ve been speaking for some 20 minutes now and I think I’m starting to get a sense for your personality. But I want to hear from you, what are you like outside of the trappings of stardom?
I really don’t know because I feel like I’m always me: there’s no split between my celebrity persona and my usual self. But the people who spend time with me in person might have something to say about this because they get to glimpse my inner life. Lately, I haven’t really been able to define my life because all I think about and all I do is music, which I hate. I really hate it. All I think about, all I do is music.
Do you hate music or the fact that you’re always thinking about music?
I hate the fact that I’m always thinking about music. All I can think about is how to promote a new song, how to drop a new song. All of this gets draining sometimes. So when I just get the chance, I spend time alone reflecting and asking myself who I am outside of music. I also try to surround myself with good energy because good energy defines me. Because like you said I’m a chameleon and I feed off the energy around me. So most times I try to surround myself with positive-minded and hungry people.
Are you using the word, hungry, figuratively or literally?
Both. Hungry people tend to come up with the most creative ideas.
Tell me of one instance when a hungry person came up with a good idea?
(Laughs) You don’t need to look further than me. When I’m hungry, I always come up with good ideas.
This next question is a bit more serious. I would say on all fronts, music-wise, you exist in a kind of liminal space. By which I mean you’re neither here nor there. You’re not a small or an emerging act, but you’re not big either. Everyone recognizes your talent, especially your versatility but there’s also a general sentiment that you’re not operating at peak capacity. Do you get the sense that you’re not where you’re supposed to be?
I feel that way every time.
What do you tell yourself when these thoughts creep into your mind?
The feeling has stayed with me forever but I think it’s good. When you get comfortable, you automatically limit yourself. So I would say it just makes me go harder. There’s always a problem at every stage in life. I’m pretty sure that when I advance I’ll still meet another set of problems. So even when I worry, I remain grateful for where I am.
Beautifully said! Still on the same tack, some people don’t consider you as a serious artist, there’s almost a sense that you’re just coasting along as opposed to locking in like certain others. Do you consider yourself a serious artist?
I’m not a serious artist. Some people are born to be artists, and there are some people who are just artists, I think I’m one of those people. I’m just blessed to know how to make music. I don’t know if I’m born to be an artist. Think of artists like Rema and Wizkid. See how they carry themselves. You look at them and think: “This one was born to make music.” I don’t know how I am to the public. I feel like I’m just a chill guy who knows how to make music. What do you see me as?
From the outside, what I see is someone who is playful and free-spirited, almost childlike. But beneath your sanguine exterior, I also see a darker, more measured, melancholy undertow.
I think this characterization is understandable but like I said, I don’t know how I am to people. I think I’m a fun guy, though. That’s all I can say about myself.
Do you like going to the club? I say this as a joke, but I’m also a little serious. It feels like Afrobeats artists have made the club their haunt.
I agree but I hate going to the club.
Why?
It’s just not my vibe. When I go there, I never quite know what to do. You feel me? What do they even do in the club? Sometimes you go to the club and spray money. When you get back home, you just sit by yourself and think, “I just went there to spray money. I didn’t even party.”
Getting back to the conversation of your music, when are we getting that Rap EP or album?
You’re getting it very soon.
When artists say very soon, it often means never.
No, you’re getting it very soon because I’m really serious about dropping the EP though.
Is it going to feature Afrobeats or just Hip-Hop?
Strictly Hip Hop.
That’s exciting. Do we have a title?
Uh, Sad.
Sad?
Yeah.
Are you sad?
No, I really don’t like being too serious about names. I also like weird titles.
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