Thisizlondon, Kayode, Blaqbonez, Crayon and More on New Music Friday

Every week, the release calendar resets the conversation. Familiar voices return with new ideas, emerging artists step forward with something to prove, and the sound of the moment shifts just enough to keep the scene moving. This week’s New Music Friday stretches across moods and textures — from rhythm-driven grooves and street-leaning anthems to reflective records that slow the pace and sit with emotion. Whether it’s the percussion-first bounce of club-ready cuts or the introspective pull of melody-led songwriting, the latest releases remind us that Afropop’s current moment is being shaped as much by experimentation as it is by instinct for a good hook.

Many Girls — Thisizlondon & Brume

For a producer stepping further into artist territory, Thisizlondon has shown a clear instinct for vibe construction. Known for his behind-the-boards work with some of Afropop’s biggest voices, his sound often leans toward sleek, nightlife-ready grooves that prioritise mood as much as melody. ‘Many Girls’ fits squarely within that sensibility, arriving as a loose, high-energy record that thrives on rhythm, repetition, and the kind of playful swagger that drives party-leaning Afropop.

From the opening seconds, the production announces its intent: bright percussion, a lively drum pocket, and a hook structured around chant-like repetition. Instead of chasing complexity, the record builds momentum through a hypnotic refrain — the recurring “many, many girls” chant — which quickly establishes the song’s central motif. The phrase functions as a rhythmic instrument, anchoring the track’s bounce and giving listeners something instantly memorable to latch onto.

Vocally, Brume leans into charisma over technical showmanship. His delivery feels conversational, almost teasing, gliding across the beat with an easy confidence that mirrors the song’s carefree premise. That personality-first approach has become a signature of his music, where braggadocio and humour often shape the storytelling.

What stands out most on ‘Many Girls’ is the chemistry between production and vocal tone. BRUME brings a soulful edge that complements THISIZLONDON’s beats without overpowering them, creating a synergy that’s effortless. The result is a track designed for movement, the kind of record that thrives in social settings where the chant can bounce off a crowd and instantly become communal.

Structurally, the song doesn’t stretch itself far beyond its central groove. Instead, it doubles down on repetition and rhythmic consistency, a strategy that works well within Afropop’s dance-driven tradition. The approach may not offer dramatic shifts or narrative depth, but it serves the record’s purpose: immediate replay value. By the time the hook cycles through again, it’s already lodged firmly in memory.

On a broader level, ‘Many Girls’ feels like a continuation of London’s gradual transition from producer to curator of his own sonic universe. His recent work has shown an ability to assemble voices and textures that revolve around atmosphere as much as songwriting, an approach that helped earlier collaborations stand out across Afropop releases.

‘Many Girls’ is a lightweight but effective groove that understands the power of a simple, sticky hook. It’s a reminder that sometimes the most durable Afropop records aren’t the ones trying to say the most but the ones that know exactly how to make a room move.

AIMOYE — Kayode

Nigerian rising star Kayode delivers a bold cultural fusion with his new single “AIMOYE”. Fresh off his earlier breakout “Live Forever” and a string of Yoruba-infused drops, Kayode leans hard into “Yoruba Trap” territory here, sampling Fuji legend King Dr. Saheed Osupa’s classic “Reliable Pt. 5”, nodding to the original “Aimoye” phrasing to create something that bridges heritage Fuji rhythms with modern trap energy. The Fuji icon himself gave the green light, adding legitimacy to this ambitious remake that feels both nostalgic and forward-leaning.

From the opening seconds, the track hooks with layered Fuji chants and percussion, Kayode and Osupa’s voices intertwine in the intro: “Aimoye awọn eniyan, toti lo nile aye”, setting a reflective yet street-coded tone. Then the beat drops: heavy 808s, crisp hi-hats, and trap snares that give it that menacing low-end bounce while retaining the unmistakable talking-drum flair and call-and-response essence of Fuji. It’s a seamless hybrid of indigenous Yoruba delivery over contemporary production that could slide right into an international trap set. The production, self-produced is tight and immersive, balancing the sample’s warmth with sharp, modern edges.

Kayode rides the wave of abundance and life’s hustle, echoing the sample’s theme of “aimoye” (plenty/people overwhelming the world) with his own spin. Street wisdom, resilience, and a touch of boastful introspection. The flow is melodic yet rhythmic, switching cadences effortlessly between sing-rap verses and punchy hooks that make the chorus sticky. It’s not overly complex, but the quotables land hard, especially in how he weaves Yoruba phrasing with English flexes.

Kayode sounds confident and versatile, smooth on the melodic parts, gritty when he leans into the trap pocket—proving versatility in delivery.

“AIMOYE” stands out as one of the week’s most innovative Afro-fusion drops. It captures that sweet spot where tradition meets the streets, much like recent hybrids pushing Fuji/Apala into new spaces.

HUSTLE KPA $$$ — Blaqbonez, ARTSALGHUL

Blaqbonez kicks off his year with a gritty, unfiltered record: “HUSTLE KPA $$$” featuring emerging talent ARTSALGHUL. This single arrives as Blaq’s first official release of 2026, following teases and his recent collabs (including the prior ARTSALGHUL joint “2 Sl1ck”). Produced by Black Culture, the track is a raw street anthem that channels the relentless Lagos grind with Blaqbonez’s signature witty, self-aware bars and a fresh voice in ARTSALGHUL adding complementary energy.

The track opens with a signature Blaqbonez ad-lib—”Huh (Culture) Yeah”—setting a fitting tone before diving into production that’s hard-hitting and minimalistic: booming 808s, sharp snares, and a menacing trap-infused beat that keeps the momentum relentless. There’s a deliberate low-end focus that makes it feel like it’s built for car speakers and late-night drives through traffic, with subtle melodic elements in the background to prevent it from feeling one-note. Black Culture’s engineering shines—crisp, punchy, and balanced, letting the vocals cut through without clutter.

Blaqbonez blends humorous, introspective, and brutally honest lines about the come-up, making for a delivery that demands multiple relistens. The pre-chorus sets the scene with lines like “I been start this p gospel rapper / Now, I don turn to secular / Hope I go still make heaven sha”, a cheeky nod to his evolution from church kid to secular rap star, delivered with that classic Blaq self-deprecation. The hook drives home the theme: “Make them know say I dey hustle kpa,” referencing the relentless grind and name-dropping real-life markers like “Face-me-I-face-you for Ijesha,” “Nepo’ baby for where?,” and “5 K show for Abeokuta.”

It’s a boast somewhat wrapped in relatability, celebrating the bottom-to-top journey without sugar-coating the struggle. ARTSALGHUL jumps in on the chorus and verses, bringing a smoother, almost melodic flow that contrasts Blaqbonez’s rapid-fire delivery, adding layers and making the track feel truly collaborative.

“HUSTLE KPA $$$” is an instant mood-lifter for anyone in grind mode, with its high energy, quotable bars, and replay value that comes from Blaqbonez’s signature humour and authenticity.

JEMBE — Famous Pluto, Mavo

Famous Pluto links up with Mavo on “JEMBE”, a fresh single that’s part of a double-pack release also featuring “14DR” with Zlatan, solely built for the streets and the speakers—raw energy, no frills.

Wizkid, Asake, Shatta Wale, NSG and More on New Music Friday

The beat kicks in straight with percussive drive: log drum patterns and shaker rhythms that scream classic Afrobeats bounce, layered with modern street-hop synths and a steady 808 kick that keeps it moving at a club-ready tempo. Production feels grounded in that Warri/Benin sound of infectious, short, punchy head-nodding grooves without over-the-top polish.

Mavo opens strong on his sections, with a smooth and melodic contrast. His voice glides over the percussion, bringing that cultural Edo flavour while introducing high energy on the record, a chemistry once experienced on their prior “Kilogram” link-up; it’s collaborative without one overshadowing the other, creating a balanced back-and-forth that feels natural.

Famous Pluto handles the other half of the record with his signature delivery, with a melodic, gritty flow over the rhythm with pidgin-heavy bars that hit on hustle, vibes, and that unapologetic street flex. He rides the hook hard with a verse that is straightforward and street anthemic, made up of quotable lines wrapped in catchy repetition that make it stick after one spin.

Structurally, ‘Jembe’ is straightforward and groove-orientated. The hook is designed as a rhythmic chant that blends seamlessly with the beat. It’s the type of refrain that feels built for communal listening, something that can echo easily across a crowd or a dance floor.

Baami — Crayon

Over the past few years, Crayon has built his reputation on bright, melody-forward Afropop — records that lean toward playful romance and colourful hooks. ‘Baami’ takes a noticeably different emotional route. Instead of the breezy flirtation that often defines his catalogue, the song turns inward, arriving as a reflective tribute shaped by gratitude, memory, and the quiet weight of family legacy.

“Baami,” a Yoruba phrase meaning my father, frames the record as a personal acknowledgement of his heavenly father. Within the song’s narrative, Crayon revisits the journey from modest beginnings to musical success, grounding the story in the figure of a father whose guidance and struggles shaped that path. It’s a perspective that shifts the focus away from celebration and toward appreciation, giving the record a deeper emotional center.

Production-wise, the song sits comfortably between soulful highlife textures and contemporary Afropop polish. The instrumental moves with a gentle groove, layering soft guitars, warm percussion, and understated melodic accents. That sonic choice mirrors the tone of the lyrics: reflective rather than exuberant. The beat leaves space for Crayon’s voice to carry the emotional weight of the song. Instead of the animated delivery heard on some of his more upbeat singles, Crayon sings with a softened tone that emphasizes sincerity. The melodies glide calmly across the instrumentals, allowing the lyrics to feel conversational, almost like a personal letter set to music.

Crayon balances recollections of hardship with moments of triumph, positioning the song as both gratitude and testimony. The message resonates beyond personal biography; it becomes an anthem for listeners navigating similar journeys, where success is often tied to the sacrifices of those who came before.