By Yiro Abari High
Afrobeats, a contemporary West African music genre that emerged around 2010, quickly expanded its reach to every corner of the globe. It introduced international music fans to artists like Omah Lay, Burna Boy, and Wizkid.
For
those who had only heard of new music genres being born but had never witnessed
the phenomenon, Afrobeats provided a front-row seat. The genre's simple, fun,
and relatable vibe—both in its songs and its dances—captivated fans worldwide.
With this appeal, it launched a fiery competition to challenge dominant
American genres, taking over nightclubs, radio stations, and concert halls. It
generated significant revenue for artists, producers, promoters, streaming
sites, and tax authorities.
About
a year ago, I watched a YouTube video where the host observed that Afrobeats
was slowing down. At the time, I didn't share his perspective, but I now
recognize his sagacity. A year later, his prediction has become a reality. To
our disappointment, Afrobeats is sliding into obscurity.
Keen
observers are asking what went wrong. There are two plausible explanations.
First,
Afrobeats is a genre that evolved very rapidly. While evolution is necessary to
keep fans engaged by moving away from boring old vibes toward fresh, exciting
ones, the genre's last major evolutionary milestone was borrowing from South
Africa’s Amapiano. This borrowed element—largely the log drum, with its
pounding, infectious groove that drives nightclub crowds wild—has now outlived
its novelty. As fans began to expect something new, the tide started to recede.
This is one reason Afrobeats has moved from the center stage to the sidelines.
Several
months ago, I saw a video interview with Timaya, one of Afrobeats' greats. He
observed that it now costs somewhere in the neighborhood of $100,000 to promote
a new song. My initial reaction was that this figure was preposterous. If true,
however, it explains why new artists are struggling to break through, leading
to a thunderous silence across the industry. The moment people saw how much
money could be made, everyone raised their fees. This has instilled fear in the
minds of record labels, who are now reluctant to gamble such a large sum on an
unproven artist, since not every investment pays off. In this way, the industry
has tightened the noose around its own neck. This theory is supported by the
sudden inactivity of recording labels, which are no longer signing new artists
at their previous rate. Of course, new talent will always emerge as long as
mothers continue to conceive. The question is whether the industry will still
be able to hear them.
This topic is explored further in my book, How to Become a Music Maestro, available on Amazon.
