M3lon is Heralding an Untrammeled Version of Modern Romance

“Love is the only reality, and it’s not a mere sentiment. It’s the ultimate truth that lies at the heart of creation.” This beautiful quote by the vaunted Bengali playwright and poet Rabindranath Tagore puts forward a weighted cosmological argument for love. Love, Tagore contends, is more than a feeling, it’s instead the upholstery upon which the universe is anchored. Christian doctrine makes a similar assertion; “God is love,” the popular epithet goes. Whether or not one agrees with this cosmological interpretation of love, the fact is that love has forever held a singular fascination for humanity. It’s the animating force of countless stories, songs, and scriptures. Nations go to war in the name of love. Likewise, rationality loses its bearing in the face of this boundless force. To invoke another popular aphorism; love is blind. 

But despite its ubiquity and the obvious importance it holds in human society, love in this age seems to be steeped in cynicism. The romantic trope of a happily ever after, both in fiction and reality, seems to be losing its characteristic draw. Not so much because people no longer desire love but because the concept seems more elusive than ever and, hence, unrealistic. A plurality of theories abound to explain this phenomenon—the rise of social media, the evolving shape of the modern family unit, the fraught political state of the world.

One way we can palpably observe this shift is through art, music especially. Love songs, the implacable, yearning kind, have become something of an artifact, a vestige of an obsolete past. Compared to the 2000s when artists like Styl-Plus, 2 Baba, and P Square typified effusive love through songs like Olufunmi, If Love is a Crime, and Ifunaya, love songs of this era are more careful, more hemmed in, finding more expression in less aspirational themes like heartbreak and debauchery. 

Against this backdrop mottled by cynicism and disillusionment, M3lon’s music is something of a unicorn, evoking the earnest storytelling and desperate yearning of a long past era. His 2024 single Lupita, which finds him dispelling his lover’s self-doubts, comforting her, and comparing her beauty to Lupita Nyong’o’s, feels at home with songs like 2 Baba’s African Queen. In the Minz-assisted London Girl, one of the most beautiful songs to come out of Nigeria this  year, M3lon, who is Apple Music’s current Up Next Artist for Nigeria, paints a moving portrait of untrammeled romance. Even in songs like Sundress where he flirts with sensuality, his voice still thrums with the yearning that threads through his discography. 

I recently sat in conversation with the artist to discuss his childhood, his journey into professional music making, and his brilliant new EP When Life Gives You Melons.

The conversation has been edited for brevity and clarity. 

I find that where one grows up tends to have an outsized influence on their perspective, especially in music and the arts in general, where a lot of the time the artist fixates on excavating experiences from their formative years in pursuit of catharsis. That being said, where are you from and how was your childhood? 

My dad is from Ogun State but I was born and raised in Lagos. My time growing up in Lagos was split between Isolo and Ikorodu. From primary school to almost the end of secondary school was in Isolo, while my university days were in Ikorodu. I attended Tai Solarin University. I was the last child for a long time but now I have a younger brother. 

As a child, I was quiet and stubborn. Does that make sense?

While it’s a contradiction, I can certainly rationalize it, most people are capable of modulating their personality to suit the situation. We’re all just trying to survive after all. But I would like to hear you explain it for yourself. 

I was a really reserved child but I was also the type of person who people knew not to look for his trouble because I would crash out. That’s the type of person I was growing up. I’m still like that. That’s why they call me stubborn because they know my reactions are just always crazy.

As a child, did you figure yourself as someone who would go on to have a career in music?

I initially wanted to be a doctor. I didn’t even think about music until my uncle, who lived with us,  started making music in the house. Our store room was free, so he repurposed it into a recording booth using cartons and whatever materials he could find. One day I told him I would like to sing too, thinking he would brush me off, interpreting it as a joke. I was surprised when he took me seriously. We made a song. I think the title was Sweet Elevation. This was probably in 2010. I was either in JSS3 or SS1.

The song found its way to school and people started feeling it. Even in uni, I thought I wasn’t going to even try, but music has always found a way to creep into my life. That’s why I feel I’m meant to be here: it has always followed me everywhere.

At what point did you start taking music seriously, as a profession? A lot of people try their hands with music as children but somehow become disillusioned with it as they grow older. I will even venture to say that 8 in every 10  guys will admit to having a phase, most likely in secondary school, when they were certain they would be the next Wizkid or Drake. When did your music aspirations take on a realistic shape?

In my first year in uni, I planned to face my books squarely. I felt I could have done better (academically) in secondary school, so I resolved to do better in university. My first friend in university, however, set me on a different course. He used to rap and each time I saw him rap, my competitive instinct would kick in. I hadn’t rapped in a while but I still felt I could out-rap him. So, we started writing raps, but we never rapped outside. Everything changed for me when Mavin Records organized a talent competition in school which I won. I became something of a celebrity in school. People started referring to me as an artist, so I just leaned into that and thank God for where I am today. 

Let’s talk about your latest EP When Life Gives You Melons. I think the title is really clever, really cheeky, a fresh interpretation of a super popular, somewhat cliche aphorism. What’s the idea behind the project?

That’s how I felt at that moment. It’s just everything that happened that I turned into music and just made work for me. 

Can we get into specifics, your previous response is tinged with some wistfulness, what were you feeling during the period you recorded the album? 

I  just feel like if somebody dropped a song called Pressure before he dropped an EP, you know it’s not a good situation. The last single I dropped before the EP is called Pressure. And I feel like that sums up my headspace in the lead-up to the project. I was at a point where I felt like I needed to do better. More people needed to hear me. And, you know, a lot of things were not a lot of things where I wanted them to be at that point. I was stressed because I wanted better. I wanted to make better music. I wanted a better life, and a greater audience, and I just wanted to do better in life. 

The aphorism to the effect of diamonds being formed through pressure is especially apt in your situation. The project is brilliant, earnest in its exploration of the themes it interrogates, and also incredibly enjoyable; sweet music. The Minz feature, London Girl, is however my favorite. How did it come together? 

I have been listening to Minz since I was in university. I met him at this dinner party with a few mutual friends. From there we headed out to this other party, an alté party. Unfortunately, we were just not having that much fun at the party. We ended up bonding over shared disinterest in the party, that’s basically how we became friends. As to your question of how London Girl came together. I had recorded the song around the time he (Minz) released Mo De Ma, which was my favorite song at the time. I had also recorded a second verse which I wasn’t feeling. I felt the song needed somebody and Minz came to mind. I sent him the song, he was in Paris at the time, and he instantly loved it. He told me we’d record when he gets back to Lagos. When he touched down Lagos, we got in the booth and he laid his verse in one take. It was amazing.