Angelique Kidjo & Yemi Alade: Two Queens, Two Generations, One Africa
Do you know how certain events stay in your mind and you can remember the exact words of the conversations? In the course of my work as a writer/music journalist, that has happened several times. For example, I remember the first time I spoke to Yemi Alade. It’s embedded in my memory so clear that I write about it in my book History Made: The Most Important Nigerian Songs Since 1999. At the time, she had had her debut single Fimisile out, had undergone a change in management and was recently signed to Effyzzie. I was the Editor of Bubbles Magazine at the time, and she agreed to an interview at her flat in Gbagada, a middle-class neighbourhood. We spoke for almost two hours, going over her career thus far while her manager Taiye Aliu worked out on the balcony. They both told me that she had just recorded a song called Johnny, which would be released in a few weeks. But what I remember the most about that conversation was when I asked her what she wanted to be known for as her career progressed. Without missing a beat, she said, “I want to take over Africa. I want to be the voice of Africa.” That was almost ten years ago. (Oh, by the way, they released Johnny a few months later, and she took over Africa.)
What strikes me about that declaration she made that Saturday afternoon, as I think about it today, is that she was clear about what she wanted to do and the direction she wanted her music to head towards. Vocally, she can stand toe-to-toe with any singer in Africa and physically… damn! Have you SEEN Yemi Alade? She will body (no pun intended) any of her peers. Before I get distracted, the point is that it might have been easier for her to take the more popular Afrobeats/sexy/alluring route, mirroring R&B greats like a Toni Braxton or a Beyonce – the way most of her African peers have. Instead, she chose to embody her Africaness as if she was Angelique Kidjo.
Speaking of Angelique Kidjo, the multi-Grammy Award singer has been African music’s standard-bearer for the better of forty years. Her career started professionally in 1982, and in that long period, her music has been unmistakably African, her persona unapologetically Black, and her messaging unambiguously for the continent’s advancement. She has done this consistently for four decades, on the biggest stages in the world. At the same time, she has used her fame and financial resources for the greater good: long before it was trendy for celebrities to Instagram themselves at Makoko and other sites that symbolize the Western gaze on African poverty porn, Angelique Kidjo has been advocating for young and vulnerable Africans. Little wonder she’s been a UNICEF ambassador for twenty years. Ms Kidjo is not just a singer, and she’s an African icon. She’s up there with the most outstanding Africans that ever lived, including Miriam Makeba, Hugh Masekela and Fela Anikulapo-Kuti. Musicians that could be called her peers are not plenty. The title Mama Africa used to belong to Miriam Makeba. Right now, no other fits that description more than Angelique Kidjo does.
In recent years, a friendship has developed between Yemi Alade and Angelique Kidjo. I used the word “friendship” respectfully. There’s a twenty-nine-year age difference between the two women, and Yemi always speaks about Ms Angelique with daughterly deference, but the older woman treats her more like a younger friend, as though she has equal respect for the artistry of Yemi. It’s a beautiful thing to see, and one can see that the bond between them goes deeper than music. Both women have collaborated on several songs, but it goes beyond that. I do not doubt that they speak multiple times a day, bouncing ideas off each other and just catching up on life generally. It reflects in how they relate and perform together. At a recent performance in London, Angelique Kidjo invited Yemi Alade on stage, and it turns out they were wearing similar colours and patterns (Yemi in a jacket and Ms Angelique in a dress). Yemi asked if they planned the outfits and when her “older friend” said no, she yelled, “Mama, you see? I’m your daughter!”
It occurred to me that we’re watching a special moment happening in real-time. It’s not a change of guard per se: Angelique Kidjo still performs as fiercely and as vigorously as she’s done all her entire life. This spring, both have headlined a series of European festival concerts. They compliment each other, each a Queen in her right, albeit from different generations. I do not think the great Angelique Kidjo is retiring anytime soon. She’s only 61 years old, and knock on wood; she’ll be with us for many more years. However, it’s clear that as much as Yemi Alade has achieved in her thirty-three years, her relationship with Angelique Kidjo will take her to all the places she dreamed of when she told me in 2013 that she wanted to take over Africa. Her talent is more than sufficient already. Their case is one of the dual pieces of greatness created at different periods in history. Our music is richer for it.
Jide Taiwo is a writer and media executive. He writes from Lagos, Nigeria and tweets via @thejidetaiwo.
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