“Ko kan aye if you rubbish my talent/ No be you I sing for,” Kizz Daniel sings on My G, the track off his Maverick album that squares up against haters and unsolicited advisers alike. He comes for that segment of fans that believe he is ‘wasting his talent’—praising his abilities, but simultaneously undermining his application of them. It is a narrative he has had to deal with for most of his career, and increasingly so in recent times, when the international flight of Nigerian music appears to have left him lagging. But none of these perturbs Kizz Daniel, who continues to spin music out of simple percussive sounds and lyrical elements that older fans especially find irresistible. He may be faulted for making ‘civil servant’ music, but his ability to connect with audiences across generations may be his greatest strength.
Ten years ago, the then Kiss Daniel appeared on our radar with Woju, banking on folksy production and colorful keys for an instant sensation that earned him a remix with Davido and Tiwa Savage for only the first release of his career. His next single, Laye, reprised the elements that had pushed its predecessor to wild success, this time with live instrumentation to amp up the Highlife feel. By the time he released New Era, his debut album, it was apparent to all that a space would have to be made at the highest level, our list of elite musicians had received a new entrant.
A decade after his debut, Afropop’s direction has shifted significantly. More accurately, it has morphed multiple times through several mini-eras to arrive at where it is now. Through it all, Kizz has evolved at his own pace, which compared to the rest of the industry, appears to mean not at all. His latest album painted him as a Maverick, and it was powered by a number of singles that revealed his unorthodox creativity in plain sight—Buga, Cough (Odo), Rich Till I Die, Shu-Peru. Each of these releases met, at least initially, with mockery from sections of the audience, mostly targeted at their playful, almost lazy lyrics. Making a dance routine to go with a song was popular ten years ago in the time of Skelewu and Alingo, but in 2024, such dances would be considered by the current Gen Z as mostly cringy. It hasn’t stopped Kizz Daniel from creating choregraphies for each one of his releases.
Afropop has not only changed its direction, it has changed destinations. Lagos no longer makes music for only the rest of Nigeria, its status has shifted from final destination to stepping stone: the big relay station where Nigeria’s finest acts meet with executives from the world’s biggest labels offering the opportunity to take their crafts abroad. But these cross-continental journeys are never straightforward. For one, they may require an artist to make some adjustments to the music in a bid for global connectivity, and this often comes at the expense of relatability back home. Tequila Ever After, Adekunle Gold’s latest album and his first under the iconic Def Jam label, attempted to solve this by serving songs from both worlds and asking you to make your picks—a buffet of sorts. With Maverick, however, Kizz Daniel could not be bothered with any cross-cultural adaptations.
On My G, the song from which the opening quote of this article was taken, he goes further to say “Ko kan aye if I no win Grammy”, addressing his seemingly bleak global prospects. He refuses to be pressured by Nigerian music’s new yardsticks, even suggesting that, at the end of the day, he may still make more money than those who do go international— “Underrated, but I’m still cashing out/ E go shock you say I get money pass your fave”
The numbers suggest these claims are not unfounded. Buga and Cough (Odo) have garnered a combined 150 million streams on Spotify, while newer releases Shu-peru and RTID sit at 13 million streams each. Beyond the numbers, they ensured that Kizz Daniel remained in rotation on radio and television throughout 2023, with Buga and its infectious dance proving a fan favourite to people from all walks of life—athletes and presidents, the religious and the clergy, and most recently and shamefully, Nigeria’s Vice President. Recently, he announced a performance at the UK’s OVO arena, admittedly a smaller and less prestigious venue than the O2 Arena where Asake and Rema have performed in the past, but still very significant for a man whose international ambitions have been written off many times. In his ability to accommodate those outside the mainstream box, Kizz Daniel reveals the heterogeneity of our music taste. Somewhere underneath the need for brilliant writing and an evolved sound is the Nigerian desire to get lost in the warmth of simple, lighthearted music, and bonus points for being able to evoke nostalgia.
His most recent releases further reflect just how tightly he is committed to his set beliefs, and why his approach may ultimately be the right one. Twe Twe and Too Busy To Be Bae debuted in December, following the template of its predecessors: simple repetitive writing, hand-strung percussion—drawing from music of Northern Nigeria this time—and a signature dance move to accompany them. Already, they’ve begun their ascents up the country’s charts, and now occupy two spots on the top ten of Turntable charts. A Davido-featuring remix of Twe Twe released two days ago; his verse should be the shot in the arm the track needs to take its place behind Kizz Daniel’s other hit singles from the past two years. Once more, Kizz Daniel bypasses the rulebook for how music should be made, and he reaps the rewards of his ingenuity or lack of it.