Wizkid is a born showman who moves the masses ★★★★☆

Where about ten years ago the music of African stars was casually classed under the container concept of world music, the proportions have now changed dramatically.

African pop music a niche? Forget it. Afrobeats, a genre based on Fela Kuti’s afrobeat and to which genres such as dancehall, house and hip-hop are added, is almost as hot as reggaeton. The Nigerian Burna Boy has hundreds of millions of streams to his name. Compatriot Wizkid confirmed his superstar status in 2021 with the title of ‘most listened to online Nigerian artist of all time’: 3.4 billion streams. And then he has also worked with the established Olympus gods such as Beyoncé, Drake and Justin Bieber.

Wizkid is also the man who, as the second Nigerian superstar, after Burna Boy, sells out the Ziggo Dome. That status may also create obligations, because just like Burna Boy, Wizkid has brought along an extensive band, including a horn section and no less than six backing singers. Something is pulled out of the closet to impress.

Although the King of Afropop initially goes for gentle seduction instead of brutal overwhelm. After the pleasant midtempo Joro Joro it is mainly Wizkid the romantic’s move. In TrueLove he uses a shiny, trained bass and Kenny G-like saxophone lines to get a room that sings along with every song from the first note.

It is pleasant to join in on a menu of sensual incentives. Call Me Every Day smears sweet-voiced BoyzIIMen romance with a touch of autotune. Bee Come Closer, originally a duet with colleague Drake, the audience doesn’t need any encouragement to accept Wizkid’s invitation for audience participation. Thousands of visitors echo him affirmatively: ‘Baby, come closer.’

But the concert threatens to get bogged down in foreplay when Wizkid lingers in Mister Loverman mode a little too long. Almost imperceptibly, however, the pace, and with it the revelry, is increased. Don’t Dull cruising in third gear for a while. But after Show You the Money, in which a subcutaneous pulsating afro rhythm is linked to an electronic beat, the first confetti cannon goes off and a bra lands on stage. The signal has been given. The rhythmic flow is maintained to the climax Beat of Life (Samba). The triple-step rhythm of dancehall gets a shot of drumming snare drum and grinding house electronics hits you both ears. If none of that helps to whip you up to great heights, there are still the smoke blowers and flame throwers.

In between, Wizkid walks rapping and singing like a born showman who keeps control over the masses he has set in motion. A showman, too, who guides his audience from feverish revelry back to thoughtful afterplay with a steady hand. After the revelry it feels calm melodious Ojuelegbalabeled by Wizkid as an African anthem, like a soothing warm bath.