Nigeria’s alternative scene’s last gold rush occurred between 2018 and 2019. It embodied a laissez-faire essence that feels difficult to summon now. Alternative artists of the time allowed themselves the license to create without restrictions. From free-floating experiments with contemporary Western sounds to home-facing reconstructions of forgotten Nigerian sounds, nothing was spared in their pursuit of unfettered creativity.
Helmed by a contingent of mavericks who bristled against the pop machinations of the previous years, the scene surged to record levels of prominence. The Alté scene, populated by a flotilla of bohemian artists, was the driving force behind the movement. Santi, the scene’s enfant terrible, heralded a heady mix of woozy melodies and a vampiric iconography reminiscent of Nollywood horror in the early aughts. Odunsi’s Rare embodied the nostalgic flourish that colored the Alté movement with its 80s-inspired production. Show Dem Camp, Lady Donli, Boj, Tay Iwar, and Prettyboy D-O, to name a few, were churning out some of the best music the nation had seen in decades.
Outside the Alté scene, many alternative artists were as prolific. Tems stunned with her slinky voice and stirring ballads. Johnny Drille explored the most beloved trope of the early 2000s: the happily-ever-after coda to a love story. Nonso Amadi’s frothy RnB numbers pulled apart the angst-tinged romance that usually comes to view in early adulthood. These artists did not fit the mold of the conventional pop star, but they achieved great success, nonetheless. At the time, it looked like things could only get better. However, a few years down the line, the scene started to show signs of losing momentum. While great music still came from the alternative scene—Lady Donli, Sgawd, and The Cavemen injected new life with stunning projects—the faces of the movement started to fade from view. By 2021, Santi and Odunsi had essentially disappeared from view. At the height of his career, Nonso Amadi took an abrupt hiatus. Adekunle Gold, who had been one of the scene’s foremost players, swiveled into a more pop-oriented style. Even worse in ramifications was the influx of a flurry of poseurs looking to shore up a slice of the scene’s newfound success.
Today, the online music discourse is awash with nostalgia-tinged chatter about the “death of alternative music in Nigeria.” Proponents of this notion typically make their case by way of wistful statements, referencing some long-passed glory days. The rhetoric couldn’t be more wrong. The alternative scene isn’t just faring well but experiencing another golden age. With 3.3 million monthly listeners on Spotify and multiple songs above the 20 million marks, Odeal is on a generational run. Gabzy, ever adept at spinning sleeper hits, has 2.5 million monthly listeners on Spotify and three songs over the 50 million marks. Minz has been on an incredible run since last year. This year, he made three stunning additions to his portfolio by way of a scintillating performance on Odunsi’s Crown Bounce, his dreamy collaboration with 255 Shadow, and not least his joint effort with Davido Wap.
The list goes on — Yarden, Tim Lyre, Sgawd, Deto Black, and Somadina are putting out amazing work. Prolific new acts are being minted by the day — Kold AF, Jamz & Aema, to name a few. More established alternative acts are also not showing signs of slowing down.
How then is it possible that in the face of a thriving scene, the prevailing sentiment is that alternative music in Nigeria is struggling, if not dying? The simplistic answer is the Nostalgia Bias theory: People tend to look at the past through a rose-tinted lens. But that only tells half the story. Another reason is the difference in form between the scene now and five years ago. Five years ago, the Alté scene, an enclave within the broader alternative landscape, dominated so strongly that in many ways it became synonymous with the word “alternative.” The similarity between the two descriptors didn’t help. Many still think “Alté” is short for “alternative.” A direct corollary of this is that many times when people make sweeping generalizations about the alternative scene, they are referring to the Alté scene.
Following its peak in 2019, Alté slowly got subsumed by Afropop, not just sonically but also in terms of its essence and style. Artists like Rema, Victony, and Fireboy adopted edgy fashion and experimental essence that had come to define the movement. Alternative music as a whole, on the other hand, underwent a terse fallow period but is now in another golden era with a spate of preternaturally talented artists at the helm and a pipeline of freshly minted talents.
This leads to a subplot within this conversation; the subterranean tension between Alté and mainstream artists. Around 2019, amid towering predictions for the Alté movement, many mainstream artists started to transmute elements from the Alté scene into their art. Today, many experts view the Alté movement as a success, citing its enduring influence in Afropop as a testament to the veracity of this view. Not everyone is of this opinion; many within what’s left of the Alté scene still harbor animus towards the mainstream for ostensibly siphoning from their culture.
Over the years, there have been subtle jabs, but most recently, there was some jousting between Maison 2500 and Mowalola. In a now-deleted tweet Maison 2500 accused Mowalola, who art-directed the logo for Rema’s just-released Heis album, of lifting the concept from his logo. Mowalola has denied the claims, but the scuffle roused the conversation around mainstream acts tapping Alté for inspiration.
The reality, however, the aggrieved parties may feel, is that outside of works protected by trademark and copyright laws, gatekeeping is futile. Making art, in many ways, is predicated on drawing inspiration from other works. This motif is made manifest in a slew of creative pursuits. Vocalists and musicians score other musical works, gleaning inspiration by osmosis. Photographers, painters, and designers make mood boards. Gatekeeping isn’t just futile but antithetical to the fundamental precepts of art.
This tension between the mainstream and certain pockets of what’s left of the Alté scene; as well as the constant wistfulness for a long-past era of the alternative scene, only serves to distract from the reality that alternative music in the country has hit yet another golden era. This current gold rush is however different. If Alternative music’s crest in 2019 was defined by a romping defiance of the machinations of the mainstream, the current renaissance is characterized by mellow transmutations of mainstream elements. However, whatever the difference, Alternative music is once again ascendant.
