From Lagos, Nigeria to New York, New York, the corner is the corner. There’s a through line between the neighborhoods worldwide where money may be low but vibes are high, and as Asake recreated the gritty Lagos streets he came up on for his first headline show at Madison Square Garden, he used his budding discography to bridge worlds. “Let me talk to my people,” he told the crowd early on. “I love this energy. I love New York.”
His current tour is named for his latest album, Lungu Boy, which can translate to “Ghetto Boy,” and highlights the enclaves of creativity and community that poor, Black areas can be. When a dark curtain dropped from the ceiling and was scurried away by workers as his concert began, it revealed a stage strategically littered with stacks of tires, shipping drums, mounds of old TVs with Asake’s face broadcast, and bright, brilliant graffiti.
That artwork, his dancers in denim shorts and crisp Timberland boots, and the skilled scratching by one of his DJs that peppered the set all felt akin to the New York street culture that went on to make hip-hop a dominant musical movement worldwide and a foundation of the type of Afrobeats Asake has made his domain. “It was hip-hop but it was local to us,” Nigerian music critic Ayomide Tayo told Okayplayer about rap’s influence on the evolution of Afrobeats. “It had a lot of slang, and a lot of local languages put together, and the instrumentation wasn’t just pure hip-hop, they were fusing indigenous Nigerian records into it.”
Asake has been an ingenious arbiter of that very essence, with his fusions of indigenous Nigerian music like Fuji and South African Amapiano with the energy and swagger of hip-hop. His sound, rich and complexly instrumental on wax, was taken to new heights live.
Isaac “Soup” Campbell for Rolling Stone
Each member of his band stood deservedly on their own podiums, the backdrop behind them lined with the kinds of rusted tin sheets that can be used to build housing in West African slums. There were several street signs erected across the stage with Lagos landmarks on them, like Adeniji Adele, where recent reports say the government had moved to destroy shanty homes where they claimed criminals and drug pushers were hiding. While Asake took the stage to “Start” from Lungu Boy, wielding a metallic red baseball bat, the prop that seemed like a nod to chaos and violence actually served more as a conductor’s baton.
Though the creation of a casual street corner on stage certainly seemed intentional, the show also carried a bit of haphazardness that felt underwhelming at times. His dancers were lively but often a bit out of sync, like they were told to take their routines but do their own thing. Though Asake had moments of electricity, like when he joined them for some powerhouse moves to “Fuji Vibes” from his new album, he too often performed from his DJs decks off to the right corner, as if they were just hanging out.
Sometimes the conversational elements of the show were charming, like when he ad-libbed under his special guest Fridayy’s performance of “Blessings,” or when he and Sarz sang their hit “Happiness” to each other. But sometimes it left lulls in enthusiasm, as did the too-sprawling set list of roughly thirty tracks. He and his DJs seemed to feel it, asking for more from fans throughout the night – more singing, more volume, more energy.
Isaac “Soup” Campbell for Rolling Stone
In turn, the concert often felt like more of a spectacle than an experience. It was certainly a sight to behold, from the mist and fireworks that cracked and popped for “Ligali” and “Organize” to the row of flame throwers that lit up the arena during songs like “Amapiano” and “Skating,” doing their own dance as the fire gusted in percussive patterns. “Skating” had one of the most elaborate displays, with real skaters and trick bikers rolling around the stage in concert merch as the dancers cutely mimed riding a board themselves.
During “Basquiat,” Asake wielded a cannon of smoke like a Gotham villain, and before a vibrant performance of “MMS” he growled for the audience’s flashlights. “I need light,” he purred. “I’m hungry of it!” When it came time for his latest single “Active,” with Travis Scott, Asake took off into two laps around the Garden floor, security and camera people seemingly struggling to keep up. One fan skipped merrily back to her seat after she managed to touch him on his run. However, his M.O. was not so much audience interaction as it was embracing his own relationship to his music. Asake sang with power and clarity, often seeming blissfully lost in his own sound.
Isaac “Soup” Campbell for Rolling Stone
What really carried the show, though, was the intense, impressive, and wholly new arrangements he and his band performed. There was only a drummer who banged and slapped for dear life, and three men on keys, one also working a bass, but the music was orchestral. It was entrancing, from their innovation of a 1990s R&B groove to reimagine “Muse” from his breakout album Mr. Money With the Vibe, to the urgency they gave “Basquiat,” making it sound like the superhero theme music.
Asake’s biggest hits – “Joha,” “Terminator,” “Organize,” “Sungba,” and “Peace Be Unto You” – were reserved for the very tail end of the show (and with the jam-packed setlist, it felt like far too long a wait). Still, everyone on stage gave their everything to them in a fiery swirl of organized chaos, the kind of display of power and pomp one might expect from an Afrobeats show at the Garden, especially after Burna Boy christened the venue for the genre in 2022. Yet, instead, Asake leaned into the singular strength of his homegrown sound and his own love for it to bring his Lungu to New York City.