FEATURE:
Modern Heroines
PHOTO CREDIT: Lakin Ogunbanwo
Part Seventy-Two: Tiwa Savage
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I am a big fan of Tiwa Savage…
PHOTO CREDIT: TSE
so I wanted to include her in Modern Heroines. Even though she has been in the music business a while, I feel she is going to be a future icon. The Nigerian singer, songwriter and actress was born in Isale Eko. Savage relocated to London at the age of eleven for her secondary education. Five years later, she began her music career doing backup vocals for artists such as George Michael and Mary J. Blige. Having released her amazing E.P., Water and Garri, in August, there are eyes on her. Rather than reflect and comment on recent news regarding Tiwa Savage and the fact that she is being blackmailed with a sex tape, I am focusing on the music and more about an artist who is among the finest out there. I want to bring in a few interviews where we learn more about the amazing Tiwa Savage and why she is such an incredible artist. I want to start with a COMPLEX interview that was conducted late last year. It is interesting learning about her early life, in addition to what she says about her new album, Celia:
“One of the key players in helping to broaden the Afro sound globally, like true royalty, Tiwa has carried the Afrobeats scene with pure style and grace. Arguably the most popular woman within the scene, the Nigerian-born singer-songwriter sits comfortably next to fellow West African pop stars such as Wizkid and Davido. And it’s clear to see why: since emerging in the early 2010s, she has released countless hits like “Eminado”, “Ma Lo”, “Bad” and “Kele Kele Love”, to name just a few.
Migrating with her family to London at the age of 11, Savage fell in love with music early on, in school: she took extra music classes and played instruments at a serious level. But it was when she hit 15 that she found her voice. A year later, she would find herself singing background for the likes of George Michael, Ms. Dynamite, Mary J. Blige, and even Italian opera singer Andrea Bocelli. Trying her hand at the spotlight, Savage went on to appear on the UK version of The X Factor in 2006, but after not being all the way ready for the shine, she eventually found her feet in songwriting, signing a publishing deal with Sony/ATV out in the States and penning for R&B icons such as Monica, Babyface and Mya.
Savage soon caught the bug again, and in 2013 released her debut album, Once Upon A Time, to critical acclaim. In the seven years since, she’s returned to Nigeria and dropped two more albums: R.E.D., in 2012, and the recently-released Celia. The 40-years-young talent has also performed at international festivals, including Afro Nation, One Africa Music Fest: Dubai, Wireless, and Global Citizen, taking her hybrid sound of Afropop—in both Yoruba and English—R&B, dance and reggae (with a dose of classic afrobeat) around the world.
Featuring on last year’s Beyoncé-produced soundtrack, The Lion King: The Gift, Tiwa Savage has solidified her royal status many times over and she is happy where she is today. Celia, her third studio album, is a tribute to her mother and a love letter to Afrobeats. Tiwa’s aim was to create a album full of anthems to empower women and girls in the same way that artists like Brandy did for her and, naturally, she outdid herself.
Tell us the stories behind those songs you just mentioned.
“Celia’s Song” is what I imagine when my mum is praying for me, always telling me to “never give up, always be thankful and give God the glory.” I would say that’s the story behind “Celia’s Song”. Another I didn’t mention is “Us”, the interlude, which is a song about the breakdown of my divorce.
How important is it to be true to yourself and be unapologetically strong as a woman?
Very important, but it’s not easy. First of all, it’s hard being a woman and then being a Black woman, it’s like you have to be even stronger. I think it’s extremely important to value yourself, but then I also understand it’s not that easy in the society we live in, where you’re influenced by magazine covers, Instagram, and the world seems to celebrate women that look the opposite from what we look like.
That is so true. With the rise of Black movements, colourism has also become the topic of discussion. How has this impacted your road to success?
I feel like women who look the opposite of what we look like seem to be celebrated more, and it’s not just in our community—it’s all around the world; this one-track idea of what a beautiful woman is. That’s why I want to try and encourage girls that are my complexion, and try to be part of the people that change the narrative to say that Black women are beautiful! That’s why I love the songs by Beyoncé and Wizkid’s “Brown Skin Girl”. I’ll be in the clubs screaming, like: “Yes!” I see other girls in the club singing and I’m like, “Sorry, but this isn’t for you. It’s for us!” [Laughs]
When did you fall in love with music?
Well, I was always surrounded by music, but I do remember when I first heard “I Wanna Be Down” by Brandy. At that point, I was like: “This is so great! This woman is amazing!” Her tone and her vibe was just wow. She was so young when she started and what she’s achieved is just incredible. I think I fell in love with R&B when I heard Brandy.
How has travelling and living in different parts of the world shaped you into the woman and artist you are today?
That’s a great question. Nigeria, I think that’s where I got my spiritual grounding because African parents are very spiritual. I also think I got my good manners from there [laughs]. London, I think that’s where I fell in love with music; that’s where I got into Aaliyah, Brandy and the Spice Girls. Yes, I’m a huge Spice Girls fan and I’m not ashamed [laughs]. In Nigeria, my dad would play Fela [Kuti] and King Sunny Ade, and when I got to London I was listening to more western music. Then when I got to the States—funnily enough, that’s when I appreciated being Black because, when I was in London, I was teased as an African. It wasn’t cool to be that. But when I went to America, I’d be like: “Hey, chocolate!” When you’re African, they’d ask things like: “What do you listen to? Fela Kuti?” My reply would always be: “Yeah, he’s my uncle… I’m just kidding!” [Laughs] I used to joke that my dad was a king in our village, or that everyone’s royalty in Nigeria. It just made me love who I am and just being a Black queen.
Many have crowned you the Queen of Afrobeats, and rightly so. Does having a title like this carry a lot of pressure?
Yeah, but it’s good pressure because I always just want to excel and make my fans feel great. You know, when someone gives you that kind of title, it's like I always want to impress them and do better than I did last time. I want them to be proud to say they’re Savage Soldiers or fans or supporters of Tiwa Savage.
What made you want to expand the Afrobeats scene back in Nigeria, rather than continuing your work in the States?
I didn’t, actually. My brother and a lot of people used to tell me that I needed to come back to Nigeria, and I would just be like, “No! I want to be an R&B singer in America. Like, hello!” When I was living in LA, I was songwriting, and I would go into different studios and they would ask me where I’m from and when I said Africa, they were always fascinated, asking me questions about what my names mean, about rhythms, and then I started listening more to what was coming out of Nigeria. So I was hearing a lot of P Square, D’banj, and 2Face. I was just like, “Woah! The music is growing.” But I didn’t see that many women, so I decided that I’d go back to Nigeria and give it a try. I wanted to try and fuse Afrobeats with R&B, two sounds that I love, and see if it works. I recorded my first song, “Kele Kele Love”, and when I put it out, all the girls were like, “Yes! Finally!” So it was great but, initially, I didn’t want to move back”.
Before continuing with interviews, it is worth dropping in a review for Celia. It is an amazing album from an artist who is so prolific and amazing. Her music transports you somewhere special. The Mantle were keen to have their say when it came to Celia’s brilliance:
“On Celia, Tiwa boldly straddles and owns her multiple facets. She is commander, lover girl, mournful ex-wife, sexy showoff, and prayerful child of her mother.
Celia also shines in its collaborations. Rather than grab for default big names, she sought artists to underscore the message and elevate the energy of each collaboration. Bringing Sam Smith, Stefflon Don, Davido, and others onto her album, Tiwa shows an intuition about her music.
She partnered with Sam Smith in ‘Temptation’, another love song that speaks to its name, and though both singers are well versed in pop, R&B, and soul, it is a unique joy to hear the British singer bring all his skill to an Afrobeats track. ‘Bombay’ is pure, sexy provocation, and Tiwa rightly brings in Stefflon Don to assert the virtues of a “bom-bom bigger than Bombay” that will make her love interest “fall like leaves inna autumn”. Dice Ailes is the cherry on top, as he drops witty Yoruba rhymes on this dancehall-influenced track that epitomize just how flexible the boundaries of musical genres can be. On ‘Pakalamisi’ Tiwa again gives us the soulful runs and harmonies that she stands out for, and brings on Hamzaa, East London-bred alt-soul singer.
The beats on ‘Ole’ and ‘Koroba’ are ones Afrobeats lovers know and have heard many times, but still Tiwa serves them hot. In ‘Ole’ she partners with Naira Marley, which post-album promotion suggests as a strategic play for support from Marley’s fans, who bring rabid enthusiasm to anything he does. The song rightly ends with a skit from popular culture that is a poignant and hilarious nod to how Nigerians have learned to cope with political leaders who often act shamelessly and senselessly. In ‘Koroba’, Tiwa challenges the way society judges young women who date older wealthy men. In these songs rather than just serve us the beats we know, she also tries to pass a deeper message to society.
In spite of these strengths, Celia has a few lackluster offerings, including ‘FWMM (F*CK With My Mind)’ whose length and abrupt end make the song sound like it was cut short sound incomplete and ‘Us’, a mournful interlude that sounds out of sync with the Afrobeat vibe of the album, where she reflects on her divorce from her long-term business partner and promoter, TeeBillz. However, very little about this power-packed album doesn’t work, so we can hardly begrudge Tiwa her five minutes of navel gazing.
The album closes with the eponymous ‘Celia’s Song’, guaranteed to tug at heart strings and have listeners replaying it over and over. In the album notes, Tiwa calls it a prayer, and dedicates it to her mother, whom the album is named after. If you repeat the album, you will hear how well the closing track rounds things off and leads you right back into ‘Save My Life’.
Nigerian music is in a great moment where we have international influence, reach, and capacity for collaboration. Within this space, it is even greater to see artists like Tiwa Savage going beyond the zeitgeist towards longevity, full bodies of work, and corner pieces which will be relevant in decades to come”.
Changing directions slightly, Allure spoke with Tiwa Savage in the summer. She discussed her skin care and cosmetic regime. It is something that I feel is worth highlighting:
“Every aspect of how she presents herself is intentional — from the natural hairstyles she wears in the majority of her music videos to how her melanin-rich skin is lit on camera. As a self-described “chocolate girl,” colorism and the insidious European beauty standard embedded into colonized nations are something she’s very cognizant of.
“I actually did try to bleach my skin when I was about, I think, 14, 15,” she recalls. “Even now, on my back I have patches... My mom, she was cleaning my room and saw the cream that I used to mix with lemons. She wasn’t even angry. It was more her disappointment. So I stopped, but I was always insecure about being dark.”
When Savage began gaining more attention, her perspective changed. “When I started my career I wasn’t embracing who I was fully yet because I was just trying to crack into the market,” she says. “My first two singles were very American and it wasn’t very African. But then, as time went on, I just started seeing how powerful my platform was and how mothers would say, ‘My little girl really looks up to you.’” So, she made an about-face.
PHOTO CREDIT: Lakin Ogunbanwo
On set, Savage makes sure she looks “as natural as I am in real life,” even going so far as to insist that blemishes are not edited out of her photos. She doesn’t feel pressure to appear to be something she is not. Actually, being inauthentic would probably be harder for someone as self-assured as she is. “I have a platform and I’m digging more into my responsibility for younger people,” she says. “And I feel like there’s so much pressure now and it’s going to get even worse with social media and there needs to be a balance. There needs to be some people that are not too perfect. I know we want to look good. I don’t want to be out there looking jacked up, but I also want to look relatable.”
Savage is honest, empathetic, and, at times, as giddy as a schoolgirl (she goes on and on about her crush on Korean movie star Lee Min-ho. “That’s your stepdad,” she told her son while watching The Legend of the Blue Sea). She spends her days reading her Bible, watching Korean movies on Netflix, meditating, and staying off social media (someone else runs her accounts for her). She’s also been thinking about ways to infuse serious topics into her music. In her next chapter, Savage wants to take fans on a journey that doesn’t involve a collection of “love songs and sweet, cute records.”
After a year riddled with police brutality, #EndSARS uprisings, and a massacre at the Lekki tollgate, not far from her home, Savage has refocused. She spent this past year watching the news and speaking out about issues in Nigeria, like the sexual abuse of young girls, with hope that after hashtags die the momentum to protect society’s most vulnerable will not. Her foundation, We Are Tired, was created to provide legal support and representation to sexual assault survivors in Nigeria. Savage’s work addressing corruption has sometimes been followed by backlash from politicians and religious leaders. Her stance: “I’m not trying to have the hottest song or club-banging hit or millions of streams,” she says. “I feel like the world is going through stuff and I need to play my part”.
Just before wrapping things up, there is an NME interview from last year that caught my attention. Tiwa Savage discussed the Afrobeat scene/charts. She also stated what she wants her legacy to be:
“Having witnessed the industry from the inside out as a backing singer, she does miss the time when making music was “so magical and there’s no label trying to tell you to do this so you can get your Spotify or YouTube numbers up”. However, according to Tiwa, “slow success builds character but fast success builds ego.”
Tiwa is “indifferent” to the new Afrobeats Chart, which was criticised for lumping together disparate genre under the term. When asked whether afrobeats – a genre that’s been around forever without mainstream acclaim – will last, she insists that “it’s definitely here to stay”, adding: “I’m so proud of the whole spotlight on Africa. I only hope that this is not Africa’s 15 mins of fame or this whole afrobeats genre is a flash-in-the-pan moment.
So she takes her status as the ‘Queen of Afropop’ very seriously: “I put pressure on myself to do better than my last [album], but having that title… it’s sweet that there are fans who think that of me – although there’s not just one queen. There’s a load of kings and queens doing this.”
Knowing that her name holds a lot of weight, Tiwa Savage has been using her clout for good. She’s a philanthropist and activist, working to fight against sex trafficking and rape with the #WeAreTired movement, which gives Nigerian women a voice on sexual injustices. However, thanks to quarantine, she’s realised that she “wants to do more”, and says: “[As] celebrities we have a wider reach, sometimes, more than politicians and religious leaders because the youth would prefer to listen to a celebrity than another figure. They have more trust in their idols, therefore we’ve got to use our platform to be the voice of the voiceless.
Given her ability to bounce between different roles, Tiwa Savage is something of a Renaissance woman. When she’s not singing her heart out or preaching for change, you can see the star penning some of your favourite singer’s sleeper hits or even acting on MTV drama Shuga, a show which educates kids about safe sex. Yet Tiwa bats away the ‘Renaissance woman’ tag: “I see myself as that in an ideal world, but I know there’s a load of areas I want to work on. Acting in Shuga, I was so glad to help educate the youth about sexual education and how to practise safe sex. As a Nigerian, we don’t talk about that with kids. Even as teenagers, your parents don’t even want to know that you’re involved in those types of things. It’s a clever way to get the information out.
“I want my legacy to be way bigger than music, so I know I have to make time to do more things I want to do [to be called a Renaissance woman]”.
PHOTO CREDIT: Stephen Tayo for The New York Times
Actually, just as I was saying I would finish up, I have found one more interview that is worth exploring. The New York Times interview is revealing and moving in places. There are a few sections I want to highlight:
“At times, Savage also seeks to provide consolation. “I feel like as a musician, I owe it to my listeners just to have that one song where they just want to cry or they want to just be in a room and know that everything will be all right,” she said.
Her first album, “Once Upon a Time,” was released in 2013, drawing nearly as much on American R&B as it did on Afrobeats. Her second, “R.E.D,” in 2015, was exuberantly pan-African, taking in rhythms from all around the continent and dipping into Jamaican reggae. She performed extensively, even when she was visibly pregnant.
But as her popularity rose, her marriage deteriorated. By spring 2016, she and her husband were separated and publicly at odds; eventually, they divorced. Near the midpoint of “Celia,” Savage sings “Us (Interlude),” which directly addresses the breakup: “I wasn’t enough/You weren’t enough/Love wasn’t enough,” she laments.
“It’s definitely the first time I’m being vulnerable,” she said, adding that it had taken years to come to terms with the breakup. “When we first started, it was just like, ‘Me and you, we’re going to conquer the world.’ And then it got to a point where the brand was getting big, and when I had to make a decision, it wasn’t just me and you,” she said.
Savage wrote and recorded “Celia” the way many Western pop stars make albums: She convened a songwriting camp. She booked eight rooms for 15 days at the Oriental Hotel in Lagos, where producers and musicians could come and go, bouncing ideas off one another as Savage supervised, selected tracks and came up with top lines. “Just put your heart into it, and let’s have fun,” she told them”.
For all the programming, planning, brand management and careful messaging that go into her music, Savage is determined to loosen up. She is trading pinpoint choreography for more spontaneous moves; she’s revealing her tomboy side as well as her glamorous one; she’s leaving bits of noise and imperfection in her songs. Her next album, which may arrive sometime next year, might dip into Brazilian music or other styles that have caught her ear.
“I’m never going to stop experimenting,” she said. “That’s just who I am. Get used to it”.
Let’s hope that the amazing Tiwa Savage never stops experimenting and putting out music of the highest calibre! She is, without a doubt, a modern-day treasure that is going to influence so many other artists. She has done so already. Even though her name has been in the news for reasons other than her music, I was keen to focus on the most important thing: her raw talent and amazing talent. If you are new to Tiwa Savage and need a bit of a guide, I have collated a playlist at the end. As you can hear, her music is so…
BEAUTIFUL and powerful.