“That’s where all the energy of mine is going; pushing Afrobeats to that level where it deserves to be. In years to come, when they mention names of people responsible for taking Afrobeats to where it is now, my name will definitely be a part of history,” Fireboy DML, New Musical Express, 2022.

There’s almost always a semi-conscious relay of how hard it is to make it as a musician in every Nigerian tale you hear. They always want to tell you about how dogged they had to be to beat the odds stipulated by hard backgrounds, the turmoil of carving out a route in the thick and quite crowded industry, or—for acts from more privileged homes—of defying and going against more status-admirable occupations.

For Fireboy DML whose 10-year-old birthday candles were made from carton cutouts, his case was obviously one without a substitute. “Music chose me/ just know this and know peace” he sang in “Bandana.” He’s from the cadre that adored their gift, lyricism, and talent from the very first time they discovered the wonders of their vocal cords, and held onto it like a golden sickle that would harvest all of the good things they had hankered after all their life. He’s one of the dogged ones, the hopeful ones, the stars that fought for their place.  

And they earn it. For some, it’s fortunately early, while others don’t see the bright lights until much later on, but what matters most is that they escaped. They survive until the denouement, and become part of the one percent with the spotlight and motion to dictate the emotions and feelings of thousands and millions with bare timed speeches and instrumentation.

Fireboy’s breakthrough dictation was “Jealous,” a trippy and groovy narration of how hard, thrilling, and heartbreaking love can be all at once. “Jealous” was a part of the 2018 YBNL’s Mafia Family album, and a sort of initiation for Fireboy into his new record label. I know it’s cliché to say, but there was certainly something different about Fireboy. How he combined the bounce of Afrobeats and the soulfulness of his well-thought love anecdotes was peculiar and just different. So, to solidify that there was actually a je ne sais quoi about what he did, he released Laughter, Tears, and Goosebumps.

Till date, LTG is the greatest body of work that the lover boy in me has come across. It flowed impeccably with brilliant penwork that made every single track memorable. Fireboy knew how to make his listeners feel, with tracks like “What if I Say” and “King” leaving you in actual tears and goosebumps. On LTG, he reached out to the deepest emotions sans a single guest feature. This was an audacious move that required a critical sense of self-belief. Fireboy knew what he was doing, and furthered this agenda with APOLLO. His sophomore still told the same story, one of a soulful Casanova that was broken, hopeful, and an unforgiven purpose.

The spotlight gets better when a one percenter becomes a one percenter amongst their peers (the other one percenters), with high command and prowess enough to represent the genre internationally. “The face of Afrobeats.” That was what Fireboy’s smooth and intoxicated 45-minute freestyle did for him.

Then came ”Peru”—his 2021 single that peaked at number two on the UK Afrobeats Singles Chart, pulled in numerous Western features including Ed Sheeran’s and 21 Savage’s, and became a street anthem at home and abroad. Its success cracked something open in Fireboy’s career and was the superstar’s global moment. 

“Peru” gave Fireboy the freedom to discover. It was his first light-hearted track. Less thoughts, less depth, and an attestation to the lore that the best art is probably the least unserious. From “Peru,” Fireboy went up. An NPR “Tiny Desk” performance, a BET Awards stage performance, interviews asking “how he did it,” and a coveted level of street credibility. What Fireboy had done was amazing, and his next step was to be decisive, but to be honest, Playboy wasn’t the most insightful move at all.

There’s a reason why Cinderella didn’t have her magic ball dress by Dolce and Gabbana. The relevance of maintaining a brand is super important in every body of work, and cannot be overstated especially in art. So, when Fireboy released Playboy, a head-first sway from the lover-boy he immersed his core fans in, it kind of seemed like his ideals weren’t resonating anymore. On his hit “What if I Say,” he sang about a Romeo and Julliet type of love, but on ”Change,”the first track of Playboy, he had “a whole lot of bitches.”

And as trivial as this all seemed—like a simple reshape and test of versatility—Playboy might have appealed to a large fraction of the public and earned a number validations, but the group of people his music caught up with couldn’t recognize their boy anymore. With time, Fireboy’s elemental sound deviated more: very unexpected features that weren’t his style, almost excessive Amapiano log drums in his music, and a huge drop in his love ballads. Fireboy went after trends, and when the unpreventable reality check came, his core fans knew little about the new Fireboy to back him up.

The effect? Although the quality of Fireboy’s music never really faltered, and the credibility of his penmanship was never in doubt, his drops, for some reason, stopped sticking. He became kind of invisible. It is a strange and paradoxical case because his music still gains traction, the reactions on social media are still very positive, yet somehow his music just comes and goes. And for a star whose goal is to represent the industry on a historic level, you have to at least be a whirlwind.

His third studio album, adedamola, dropped at the end of August last year, and almost nearly a month after, it felt like the album didn’t happen. There was barely any promotion for the hit tracks, and over time adedamola inconspicuously creeped away from the airwaves. Recently, Fireboy released a single, “Dopamine,” a bouncy record that has a striking hook that I cannot not talk about, and it didn’t make it past the 100th spot on the charts. “Dopamine” made fans ask questions: What is Fireboy not doing?

Besides his switch, there have also been backable claims that his career isn’t at the top of YBNL’s scale of preference. Many think he is considered second choice to Asake, and with the way his management handles his projects, it is almost admissible. There are barely any serious promotions, his public representation is way below his level of talent, and some of the efforts put into his projects are obviously subpar. I cannot pen this piece down without mentioning  the disgust I felt at the very scrappy CGI tree used in the music video of “iseoluwa,” a standout of his latest album. That was just one of several noticeable errors in his projects. For some reason, it is like he keeps getting treated like an upcoming artist.

In 2022, Fireboy sat with NME and explained how he looked forward to etching his name among the Afrobeats greats. Has he done that? With “Peru,” unarguably yes, but what more? He can’t just be that “Peru boy,” and obviously has to re-strategize his structure. He could start by unblocking the message of which he is the messenger, reverse to his day ones, and fix the behind-the-curtain issues that we unfortunately see on the outside. It’s not as easy as it sounds; nonetheless, we listeners and fans will continue to root until we witness his complete blossom.