Afrobeats and the Identity Crisis That Stalled Its Global Momentum

In the last seven years, Afrobeats—a genre born out of West Africa’s rich musical diversity—has experienced a meteoric rise in global consumption and appeal. With multiple chart-topping singles, award-winning projects, and continent-spanning tours, it seemed like the movement was primed for long-term international domination.

But just as the foundation for a sustained “Afrobeats to the World” era was being laid, recent trends point to a creeping decline. The numbers aren’t as promising, the buzz is thinning out, and the genre’s once-prominent global momentum appears to be stalling.

At the root of this slowdown lies a complex web of issues, from an underdeveloped industry structure at home to inconsistent international infrastructure. However, one of the more subtle yet significant problems is Afrobeats’ ongoing struggle with identity. A genre that blends elements of hip-hop, dancehall, R&B, highlife, and more. Afrobeats was always destined to be fluid—but its refusal (or inability) to define itself clearly has become a roadblock on its global path. At the height of the movement, everything seemed aligned. Burna Boy had “Ye” and the Grammy-winning ‘Twice As Tall’, CKay’s “Love Nwantiti” broke into North American charts, Tems pushed deeper into the U.S. market following her collaboration on Wizkid’s “Essence”, and Rema went global with “Calm Down”.

The West was curious, eager to understand this vibrant sound. But when asked what Afrobeats truly is, there was no consensus. Artists offered vague, shifting answers, often shaped by personal branding rather than collective identity. Many distanced themselves from the label altogether, coining their own genres like ‘Afro-fusion”, “Afro-rave”, or even “Afro-depression“—attempts to individualize their sound while escaping the ‘Afrobeats’ box.

In contrast, genres like reggae, for example, are not just musical styles, they’re extensions of cultural identity. Reggae is synonymous with the Jamaican experience. It’s more than sound; it is language, philosophy, and lifestyle. Meanwhile, global Afrobeats artists seem to champion personal expressions over communal representation. That’s not inherently bad, but without a defined core, what exactly is the world being asked to embrace?

The genre’s identity confusion has been worsened by the public remarks of its biggest stars. In a now-notorious interview with Apple Music, Burna Boy claimed that Afrobeats is “mostly about nothing” and lacks substance. Wizkid has also distanced himself from the genre, stating he can make music in any style and doesn’t consider himself bound to the Afrobeats label. These statements—however true to the artist’s intent—undermine the genre’s cohesion, especially in the eyes of a global audience trying to make sense of it all.

Davido once half-joked that the only difference between Afrobeat and Afrobeats is “the ‘s’.” And while Afro B later helped clarify the historical and stylistic distinctions, the fact remains: when the world asked us who we are, we often replied with confusion, self-interest, or vague humour.

This identity problem reared its head again at the 2024 MTV VMAs, where South African singer Tyla won Best Afrobeats for “Water”—a track rooted more in Amapiano than anything traditionally West African. While Tyla graciously used the moment to highlight that not all African music is Afrobeats, the damage was already done. Critics argued that “Water” had Afrobeats elements, but the larger point lingered: the term is being stretched beyond recognition.