Very few artists in Afrobeats’ dazzling history boast of debut years on par with Kizz Daniel’s introduction to the scene in 2014. Following a run of explosive singles that includes Woju, Laye, Mama, and Jombo, he released his debut album A New Era. If at the time of release, cynics regarded the album’s brazen title as yet another naive platitude, as the years rolled by, unfolding with inchoate clarity, the prescience of those three words came into view. Since his momentous overture, his career has taken several turns that have solidified him as a mainstay of the culture. Every year since his debut, he has scored multiple hits and maintained a tight grip on the pulse of the culture, a feat not to be taken lightly. And yet, when conversations regarding the artists at the frontier come up, he typically gets entirely sidestepped. As he marks a decade into his career—a milestone that typically calls for celebration and sober reflection with equal urgency—what does say about his legacy?
The conversation of Kizz Daniel’s legacy typically functions as canon fodder for fiercely contested debates on social media. His position within the Big Three, or the newly created Big Four contingent, is an even more polarizing conversation. The reason for this is that he exists as an interesting paradox. On one hand, he’s regarded as a virtuoso, a veritable master of the game in a landscape dappled with impostors. He acutely understands the constantly evolving direction of the sound and is just as aware of his role in all of it. The result is a hit-making prowess rivaled by a few. On the other hand, standing in stark contrast to his peers, outside of the music, he maintains an almost solemn reticence; surfacing from the shadows only when new music is imminent. This dissonance has rendered him a regular subject of think pieces and debates. This raises two questions. Should an artist’s decision to embrace reticence undercut their legacy? Also, when assessing an artist’s legacy or their current position, should their gambits outside of music be factored in?
In an ideal world, an artist’s gambits in other endeavors or their publicly curated image should matter no more to their legacy than an athlete’s public image matters to their legacy. The implicit joke in this statement is that even in the world of sports, where performance is prized above everything else, public perception still matters. The most revered and most prolific athletes—Micheal Jordan, Neymar Jr, Lionel Messi, Rafael Nadal, to name a few—all spend millions of dollars in service fees to PR firms, curating clearcut brands, shoring up public goodwill, and in certain cases lobbying for awards. The power of branding is all the more important in the world of the arts, where perceptive value and actual value are almost indissoluble. A recurring motif in the careers of the most iconic artists in the world, everyone from Beyoncé to Burna Boy, is that in addition to talent, these artists are obsessively invested in their brand image. Kizz Daniel, however, departs from this template and that has been his biggest foible.
Kizz Daniel has, in his decade-long career, had his share of controversy. In 2017, he cut ties with his then-record label after a protracted and highly publicized feud that ended in litigation. In 2022, he flopped into another quagmire. Upon failing to perform at a show in Dar es Salaam, he was arrested by the Tanzanian police. What’s most striking about this case is that he was in Dar es Salaam at the time the show was billed to be held but simply refused to perform for “reasons best known to him.” But outside of these, he has mostly remained controversy-free. The problem however is that from an image standpoint, his personality seems inert- he doesn’t stir up any emotions, making it difficult for fans to form the type of connection iconic artists inspire in their audience.
This inertness of his public persona should not be confused with reservedness. Micheal Jackson, by his own admission and testimonies from collaborations, was painfully shy and sensitive. That however did not detract from his hectoring superstardom, owing to his carefully constructed brand. Kizz Daniel is admittedly a private person. In his long career, he has largely kept the particulars of his private life siloed away. It was only recently that he became comfortable with flaunting his partner to the world through playful TikTok videos. Unlike many of his peers who promptly recruit their children into the raucous world of celebrity, he has largely shielded his children from public attention. This however does not excuse his desultory attitude towards image sculpting. In concrete terms, image sculpting, or brand positioning, would entail crafting a distinct and authentic identity that would differentiate him from other artists while connecting him to his target audience.
Storytelling is the core element of brand positioning. Wizkid’s story is curt and compelling: the kid from Ojuelegba, who clawed his way through a labyrinth of adversity and emerged victorious; the quintessential lodestar for the kids in Nigeria’s manifold inner-cities aspiring for a better life. Davido is the rambunctious renegade who, although coming from a life of affluence and pedigree, spurned the set path laid before him in favor of charting his path. In contrast, what is Kizz Daniel’s story?
As regards positioning, an artist like Tems positions herself as an aspirational figure who through a series of fortuitous turns, escaped a dreary career in corporate, and Lagos’ claustrophobic grip, transcending into global superstardom: a product of grace living a fairytale. What is Kizz Daniel’s angle? How exactly does he position himself?
His other missteppings follow directly from his brand positioning issue. While he is preternaturally gifted at spawning hits, his music has for a while been overly formulaic, almost bordering on soulless. His latest release, Marhab which marries Afropop sensibilities with elements of Middle Eastern music, marks his first effort at inventiveness in roughly three years.
Another issue is his listless stagecraft. In an age where appearing on the lineup of venerable festivals and hosting concerts have become almost as important as spawning hits, Kizz Daniel’s lapses in this area are untenable. Finally, His discography, while boasting of a passel of evergreen hits, is painfully scarce on classic albums. His fixation with scoring hits, presumably to bolster his career in the short term, has ironically mottled his long-term legacy.
Kizz Daniel’s story is strewn with unrealized possibilities, with a surfeit of nearly attained prospects. In a sense, it’s a story that’s at once wholly unprecedented and dully familiar. In another world, he’s the heir-apparent to the fourth throne, following Wizkid, Burna Boy, and Davido. But in light of his many derelictions, and his many gaffes, other contenders have emerged with more compelling claims. His story, however, is still unfolding. So much hangs in the balance. Marhaba is a step in the right direction, a bright moment set against 2024’s chilly backdrop. In a few years, who knows what new turn this story would take?
