HYBE has established a subsidiary in India, HYBE INDIA ENTERTAINMENT PRIVATE LIMITED, expanding its global footprint into the world’s second most populous country and a fast-growing recorded music and touring market. The office is located in Mumbai, home to the country’s Bollywood film industry, marking HYBE’s fifth headquarters outside of South Korea — joining Japan, the U.S., Latin America and China. 

“With approximately 185 million users, India’s music streaming market is the second-largest in the world, making it the perfect market to implement our growth strategy,” HYBE said in a statement. “The remarkable rise of K-pop in India highlights the country’s potential as a major market, and we are excited to expand our presence.”

India was the 15th largest recorded music market in 2024 with revenue of $364 million, according to the IFPI, but it could grow much larger in the coming years. With a population of over 1.4 billion, India’s per-capita revenue was $0.22, below other countries the IFPI deems “high-potential growth markets,” such as China ($1.12), Brazil ($2.71), Mexico ($4.12) and Chile ($5.25). 

HYBE INDIA will implement the K-pop method of artist development that involves auditions for groups and long-term training. The Indian division will also support the regional activities of HYBE artists, which could open up new touring possibilities in the country. As Billboard reported in April, India now regularly hosts huge concerts by local artists as well as international acts such as Coldplay, which played to 223,000 fans in two shows at Narendra Modi Stadium in Ahmedabad.

HYBE’s efforts outside of South Korea reveal what the company has in store for India. In the U.S., HYBE partnered with Geffen Records to stream the audition for girl group KATSEYE and develop a show for Netflix, Popstar Academy: KATSEYE, that introduced the group to audiences. Similarly, HYBE Latin America is producing an audition reality series that will culminate this fall in the announcement of a five-member boy band. 

Vince Gill debuts two versions of his classic, poignant track “Go Rest High on That Mountain” on Billboard’s Country Digital Song Sales chart.

“Go Rest High on That Mountain (Extended Version)” bows at No. 5 on the list dated Sept. 27 with 2,000 downloads sold in the week ending Sept. 18, according to Luminate. The updated cut, which Gill performed with Lainey Wilson during the Sept. 14 Primetime Emmy Awards, broadcast on CBS, gives Gill his second-highest showing yet on the tally (which began in 2010), behind his collaboration with Maren Morris, “Dear Hate,” which led for a week in 2017.

Meanwhile, the original “Go Rest High on That Mountain” joins the new mix in the Country Digital Song Sales top 10 at No. 8, up 242% to 1,000 sold. Released in 1995, the track reached No. 14 that December on Hot Country Songs, where Gill boasts 28 top 10s, including five No. 1s.

The extended release coincides with the song’s 30th anniversary and introduces a third verse that Gill first shared live at Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium in 2019. He began writing the track in 1989 following the death of country star Keith Whitley, completing it years later after the passing of Gill’s brother. The result was a career-defining ballad that went on to earn multiple Grammy Awards and one that has remained a cornerstone of his catalog.

While fans have heard the additional lyrics in concert over the past several years, the new version marks the first time they’ve been available in a studio recording. The release adds fresh perspective to a song that has endured as both a personal tribute and a country standard.

It’s free Billboard charts month! Through Sept. 30, subscribers to Billboard’s Chart Beat newsletter, emailed each Friday, can unlock access to Billboard’s weekly and historical charts, artist chart histories and all Chart Beat stories simply by visiting the newly redesigned Billboard.com through any story link in the newsletter. Not a Chart Beat subscriber? Sign up for free here.

Ciza always knew his time to rule would come. His father Thembinkosi “TK” Nciza co-founded TS Records in 2001 with Sbusiso Leope, a radio DJ and TV presenter better known as DJ Sbu. And his mother Nhlanhla Mafu served as the lead vocalist for the Afropop group Mafikizolo, whose 2013 international hit “Khona,” featuring fellow South African kwaito group Uhuru, won record of the year at the South Africa Music Awards and song of the year at the MTV Africa Music Awards in 2014, while Mafikizolo earned a best international act: Africa nomination at the BET Awards later that year.

But the artist and DJ born Nkululeko Nciza hasn’t let the “nepo baby” stereotype affect his ascent. “Where I’m from, they’ve just embraced the fact that I’m from a musical [family]. For them, it’s like music royalty,” Ciza tells Billboard. 

After performing in high school competitions with his rap group KIC (Kids in the City), Ciza went solo at age 18 and released his debut record, “House Party,” which grew popular among the local high schools. “I kind of had a child star moment,” he recalls.

The following year, he booked a one-way flight to Atlanta, Ga. to attend Morehouse College to study business entertainment, but the pandemic derailed his plans. And Afrobeats’ global dominance made Ciza switch gears. “That’s when I was like, ‘Rap is not my thing anymore. I want to do Afrobeats,’” he says. “Afrobeats was taking over the world at the time. I was like, ‘OK, amapiano is the biggest thing in South Africa. But the people who are really doing it for me and carving actual superstars were in West Africa.’”

After releasing the singles “Come Alive” and “Adje” in 2020, Ciza started making a name for himself a year later when he collaborated with South African superproducer and amapiano pioneer DJ Maphorisa (whose former group Uhuru produced his mother’s group Mafikizolo’s “Khona” smash) on the prosperous Afrobeats-meets-amapiano record “Bank Notification,” which was later included on Ciza’s debut EP that year, Golden Boy Pack. But with COVID-19 “[slowing] down the momentum,” he says, and Ciza struggling to find his sound in the market, he took a brief hiatus from releasing music.

“This is when I fell in love with DJing and Afro house,” Ciza says. At the time, 3-step – South Africa’s latest dance music genre that is named after its signature three-kick drum rhythm and blends Afro tech, amapiano and broken beat – was bubbling, and Ciza was determined to put his own spin on it. With the help of producer Jazzworx and singer Thukuthela, Ciza created an international hit with “Isaka (6am)” in April.

“‘Isaka (6am)’ is basically a prayer, me asking God, ‘Yo, I wanna become a better man for my son. I want to become a better man for my family. But I also want to live my dreams. Let this hustle be fruitful, and may people see my talent,’” he explains.

The word “isaka” directly translates to the bag in Zulu. As for the 6 a.m. timestamp in the title, it either represents the time one gets home after a long day (and night) of work, or when one returns after spending their hard-earned money at the club. Either way, Ciza has played “Isaka” in the club at 6 a.m. and even later, “and in different parts of the world, too,” he chuckles.

“My real name is a Xhosa name, Nkululeko, which means freedom. And I think that’s my purpose in the music industry: When I step on stage, when I’m on the mic, I just want people to feel free and set them free from whatever pain or heartbreak or bad thing,” Ciza says. “You can have a hit record that people can just sing along to, but having a spiritual song that heals is also a blessing.”

“Isaka (6am)” spent nine weeks atop the South Africa Songs chart and has earned 81.5 million official global streams, according to Luminate (through Sept. 18). And with the help of some marquee DJs, and thoughtfully curated remixes, “Isaka (6am)” has also taken over the European scene. Black Coffee played the “Vanco Mix – In Joburg” version during his residency at Hï Ibiza while Ciza was behind the booth with him. And Keinmusik’s Rampa and Adam Port played the then-unreleased Major League Djz, Kidflo and Kotto remix at Brunch Electronik in Madrid and at Domaine National de Saint-Cloud in Paris.

“This is the Renaissance period in African music, and personally, I’m so happy to be a part of it,” says Ciza. “People used to say, ‘Africa is next.’ I really do think it’s now.”

Billboard spoke with September’s African Rookie of the Month about recording “Isaka (6am),” manifesting a collaboration with Omah Lay before he and Tems hopped on “Isaka II,” and Jimmy Iovine being an unexpected guest at his dinner with Black Coffee in Ibiza. 

How much did your parents’ career paths in the music industry impact you to carve out your own?

I saw my dad literally build superstars from home. He had so many different local South African superstars living with us growing up, [like the late Afro-soul star Zahara]. That definitely gave me a lot of drive, seeing all of these people go from zeroes to heroes, and some sort of dream of, “OK, this is actually possible.”

From my mother, it was her stardom, her effort in making sure she is the best version of herself, and the amount of time she would spend on her craft. My mother used to make me dance at family gatherings. She would make sure I do school concerts and dance competitions because she always said, “My son, there’s something in you.”  

Considering your father is your manager, what’s the most important lesson he’s taught you about the business that has stuck with you till this day?

You have to want it the most. For you to be the best, you have to be the hardest working because there’s a lot of competition out there. There’s a kid who’s hungrier than you. Always showing up is the biggest lesson that my dad instilled in me. 

What kind of music were you listening to growing up, and how did that inspire you to make the music you make today?

My parents had a lot of DVDs, and I used to always watch [Michael Jackson’s] This Is It documentary. My mother would work a lot with West African artists, and she put me onto Wizkid, which is one of my favorite artists of all time. Seeing him break African music in the world at that time was amazing, especially when Drake hopped on his record. I was like, “OK, Africans can actually become global superstars.” And my mother’s group showed me how far our music can travel.

Later on in my teens, I fell in love with hip-hop. At the time, Migos was a big thing, really the whole Atlanta hip-hop scene. We all used to want to be Migos, and at school, we would dress like them. As I got more mature, I started coming back home and making Afrobeats. When I took a break, all of the history and all of the things I’ve been exposed to, all of that data collected, becomes one. [I’m] just an African dance music guy who has a lot of influences. The biggest one is also Drake. Drake taught me how to commercialize things — how do you make it sellable”

And what kind of music do you listen to now?

Afrobeats, alternative music, amapiano. I like The Notorious B.I.G., Odeal, Doja Cat. I love pop, too. Justin [Bieber] is one of my favorite artists of all time, because he knows how to blend everything. I’m very versatile with my ear.

How did you sign to LVRN? And why was that the right decision for you?

I met Tunde [Balogun, CEO/co-founder] in 2022. He came down to South Africa looking for new, fresh talent. I was always in the shadows, but he always saw stardom in me. He was like, “OK, I know you’re making Afrobeats and it’s cool, but you need something that’s going to represent you and fit your story. You have to just find it.”

LVRN believed in me before the big song. [Laughs] In this day and age, every label is looking for the hit. They don’t look at artist development. They’re just looking for numbers. But for me, they were people who didn’t mind sacrificing the time for artist development.

Take me back through the making of “the big song,” “Isaka (6am).”

I was in every single studio you could find in South Africa. But I couldn’t find the right people to work with. I hit [Jazzworx] up. There was a lot of people in that session ‘cause they said, “Yo, Ciza’s coming.” And I hate working with a million people in the studio. I kind of had to be rude and ask people to leave. They left, and it was just me, him and Thukuthela. Jazz started making the beat and I was like, “Yo, don’t do too much. Try to simplify that. Make the bass a bit like this.”

Then I started writing. I was so nervous maybe because I knew the song was a prayer. As soon as I hopped on the mic, magic just came out of me. It was a very spiritual and memorable moment. As soon as I stopped recording, we looked at each other and were like, “OK, this is something.” Thukuthela comes in and brings in the dancing part, but the song was super full. I had to tell them, “Guys, let’s simplify it because it’s also dance music.” At some point, people do just want to listen to the beat and be in the spirit. That was the creative process.

Later comes the promo side of things. I started shooting TikToks, and I actually gave the song to a friend of mine and was like, “Yo, play this when you’re just chilling with the girls or whatever.” She played it. That video went crazy, had a million views, people started tagging me. I took another video. When I woke up, my life changed. The song became super huge, but it was unreleased. That’s when I gave the label a call and was like, “Yo, guys, I’ve got one.” And the rest is history.

@cizarioo

ISAKA DC can’t wait to see y’all do it 🥹🫶🏾🔥🔥🔥 #ciza #isaka #dancechallenge #HappyEaster #3step #afrohouse #trending

♬ original sound – CIZA

When you posted on Instagram about what you learned on your 24th birthday last month, you wrote that you “learned you cannot make Ciza money when I received a cease & desist from the SA Reserve Bank.” What happened?

At the time, [the “Isaka (6am)” music video had] 10 or 15 million views. I was like, “Yo, guys, this is part of me being a patriotic citizen, showcasing South African money.” And they were like, “Yeah, you can’t put your face on it. We’re gonna take you to court.” We had a discussion with the label [hoping] switching it up on YouTube didn’t affect the views. That was my biggest thing because I spent so much money and time and sweat on the video just for it to be taken down. It felt like sabotage. But because I work with some of the best people, we figured out a way to replace that scene and not affect the [views].

How did you get Tems and Omah Lay on “Isaka II”?

The crazy part is I’ve always wanted to work with [Omah] from my Afrobeats days. I met him two years ago when he came to South Africa for a show. He was there with his whole team and security, and I took a chance and walked up to him. His security was like, “No, no, no, no.” And then he saw me and was like, “No, let him go.” I went to him and started talking to him like, “Yo, dude, you’re like a spiritual healer. Your music is so beautiful and I resonate with it. I’m gonna work with you one day.” It was a manifestation. He kept saying, “Yeah, dude, I see the record you had with Maphorisa. Keep going, but go find yourself, too. Don’t just say you’re gonna work with me. I don’t know if you’re gonna work with me, but just keep going.”

Two years later, [“Isaka (6am)”] blows up and I receive a DM from him while I’m on the road. He’s like, “Dude, this song feels so spiritual.” I was like, “You should actually hop on it.” He sent me a [voice note] 10 minutes later. I was like, “Oh, he definitely wrote this verse a week before.” And he actually fits so well, it feels like me and him were in the same room. With Tems, she never does remixes. But at the time, Omah Lay and Tems had the same manager, Muyiwa. He played it for her like, “Hey, this song is so beautiful and this artist is a hard worker from South Africa. I’ve not seen this in a long time.” I think Tems liked that. When I was in Nigeria, I met up with Muyiwa and he put me on a call with her.

But at the time, she didn’t put down the verse. She was like, “Enjoy the moment and move with the song.” Which is so ironic, because when you listen to the song, the first lyric she says is, “I’m ready.” I feel like it was direct communication between me and her. She just goes in and speaks about doing music your own way, which is the perfect message for the song and for African music — like the collaboration between West and South Africa.

You’ve also released regional remixes of “Isaka (6am)” for Beirut, Joburg, Ghana and Miami. What inspired that release strategy?

Europe was buzzing about the song, and it was a business decision for me to be like, “Ciza, you do want to play in Ibiza one day. You do want to play in Mykonos as much as you want to be on a Grammy stage. So why not hit two birds with one stone?” As I was going to Europe, I started releasing these Afro house remixes with Vanco, who is an amazing DJ blowing up like crazy in the European scene. I was like, “Let me release a remix pack with different sounds from different places in the world.” When you’re in Miami and you’re in a house club, they’ll play that. Black Coffee invited me to Ibiza just to experience that moment with him. And I think it’s because of the decision I made to make the song relatable in every form and way.

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How did Black Coffee reach out to you, and what was it like to hear “Isaka” in Ibiza?

I was in London, and he invited me and my team to Ibiza. We went there and my dad was like, “Coffee wants to see you.” I was like, “Oh, Dad, I thought I’m just gonna see him at the show.” [Coffee] invited me to a dinner. When [my dad and I] get to the dinner – this is one of the craziest stories – they’re like, “OK, this is Black Coffee’s table.” Jimmy Iovine is there with his wife, just chilling. I’m like, “Wait, am I in the right spot?” He’s like, “Oh, you’re the kid!” [Coffee] was an hour late, so we’re just there chilling with Jimmy Iovine and his wife and he’s just giving me so much game.

[Coffee] came later, and because his girlfriend really loves the record, we just kept singing it throughout the whole dinner. Later on, we went to his residency at Hï and his girlfriend grabbed me toward the stage to say, “Yo, go, go, go.” I’m like, “What’s going on?” She’s like, “He’s about to play your song!” And then he’s like, “Ciza, Ciza!” and plays the song. The whole crowd went crazy. Surreal moment, very beautiful moment.

Is there one particular piece of advice that Jimmy told you during that dinner that stood out to you?

I’m a singer and a DJ/producer. How do I combine the two worlds? He’s like, “People will adapt to you. That’s what’s gonna make you special. There’s no rules to this as long as it feels right.” That’s the best thing I took from him, and also that greatness takes dedication.  

The “Isaka (6am)” remix with Major League Djz, Kidflo and Kotto dropped earlier this month. How did you reconnect with Major League Djz four years after you collaborated with them and Abidoza on “Carolina” from your Golden Boy Pack EP?

Major League Djz have always supported me. When I started posting videos of myself DJing, they were sending me music to play. And when I finally dropped [“Isaka”], they were going crazy in Europe playing the song. I released other remixes, but they were like, “Ciza, we have the right remix.” Their remix was going crazy. Keinemusik was playing it. I was like, “OK, I’m sorry guys for taking time.” And then I dropped it with them. It’s doing really well, especially in the Afro house community.

Who would you love to collaborate with next?

Wizkid. I definitely want to work with Tyla. I think Drake on a 3-step record would be so beautiful. I want to work with Tems on something different, like something very Afro house. I’d like to work with Rema, too.

What’s next for Ciza in 2025?

Ciza’s Palace the album is coming out. I’m just gonna bring everyone into my world. It’s very spiritual, it’s very fun, it evokes a lot of emotions. I recorded the music in different parts of Africa and London and with so many different people. I’m also innovating how people view dance music. I’m breaking so many rules with it.

Tiwa Savage, often hailed as the Queen of Afrobeats, is stepping into a bold new chapter with her debut R&B album, This One Is Personal. Over two years, she poured her heartbreak, growth and resilience into a deeply emotional project that blends smooth R&B vibes with her Afrobeats roots.

Recorded across Nashville, London and Lagos, the album takes listeners on a journey through heartbreak, healing, and self-discovery. With live instrumentation and a vulnerability she’s rarely shared, this is Tiwa Savage like you’ve never heard her before.

Billboard talked to Tiwa about what makes this album so personal, how London and Lagos shaped her sound, her love for classic R&B, balancing Afrobeats with vulnerability, collaborating with Skepta, and what heartbreak and success look like to her right now.

You’ve been crowned the “Queen of Afrobeats” for years — but now you’re stepping into R&B with This One Is Personal. What made now the right time to make this transition?

I think I’ve always shown that R&B, or rhythm and blues, soul type of music, was really the anchor of how I got into music. I’ve always said I was gonna go back to doing this type of genre fully, with my full chest, ’cause I’ve dabbled in it a few times with my other projects.

But I went through a really hard breakup, and it was during the time that I was due to record this project. It just felt like the right time for me to pour out my heart, and this genre was the only way I could really express myself musically with what was going on in my life at the time.

So it just felt like the right time. It felt like I was heartbroken into it.

The title itself, This One Is Personal, suggests intimacy. What does “personal” mean for you in this moment of your career?

It means letting the fans see a more vulnerable side of me. They’re used to seeing the African bad girl, the sassy, very confident woman — but this time around I’m allowing them to really see me in my really vulnerable state, in my true form.

Even on social media, I do a lot of content where I’m not wearing any makeup and I’m just speaking directly to the camera, letting them see that side of me.

This part of my career, this part of my life, is very personal, and I’m letting the fans see that side.

You’ve just moved back to England. How has being back in London influenced the way you approached this album?

I spent a long time in the UK growing up. It was actually in London that I really fell in love with music, when I first got introduced to soul and R&B.

Going back to London was a full-circle moment for me recording this album, because it felt like home. Nigeria will always be home, but the U.K. is also like a second home for me.

To be honest, I recorded this album in different places — Nashville, San Fran, Malibu, Nigeria, and London. But the U.K. was a full circle moment, because that’s where I first fell in love with music.

R&B has always been a love of yours — you’ve mentioned Brandy, Tamia, and 90s R&B as key influences. How did those inspirations shape the sound of this project?

Oh, you’ll hear the nostalgia on a lot of songs on the album. Even just in the vocal layering and harmonies, especially the layering. The intro to my second single with Skepta, “On the Low,” really gives an ode to Brandy. Her vocal layering is just impeccable, and that was me paying homage to her. Lyrically, you’re going to hear all the influences across this project.

The first single, “You 4 Me,” samples Tamia’s “So Into You.” Why was that song the right one to reimagine for this album?

There were so many, but that one… I don’t think there’s anybody that hates that record. It’s just one of those records you put on, it feels like summer, like barbecues, cookouts, parties. It just feels amazing.

Like everybody else, I’ve always loved that record, and it was such an honor for me to sample it. It just felt right. I’ve always loved it, and I was so honored that I was able to use it and that the sample was cleared for me.

 Which version do you prefer? The one with Fab or the original?

The one with Fab — there’s just something about that one, man. I mean, the original is the original, but the one with Fabolous is just… ooh, that one. There’s not much difference, though. I don’t know, there’s just something about the way he comes in. It’s incredible.

“I’m Done” is such a raw and emotional track — I heard you even had to stop recording to cry. How important was it for you to allow that kind of vulnerability into your music?

Initially, we weren’t gonna use that song. It was off the project because I felt like it was too much, too deep. I wasn’t sure if it was too personal for anyone else to connect with.

Eventually, the more we talked about the project and the songs that were gonna make it, everybody was like, this song has to make it, and it has to be the first song. It sets the pace for what I’ve been going through.

Initially, it was hard for me to include it. Even now, when I listen to my project, sometimes I have to skip it because it takes me to a certain place that’s still really deep… But I’m so happy so many people are connecting to it. Even though it was so personal, they’re able to relate. So many people hit me up saying that record hits them so hard. I’m so thankful I put it in the project.

Afrobeats is still at the heart of your artistry. How did you balance staying true to your roots while exploring the R&B space?

I think I’m such a versatile artist, and I think that if I’m doing something, it doesn’t feel forced or it feels authentic to me.

So I am able to wear the hat of doing Afrobeat, and I’m able to do R&B and do it authentically, do whatever kind of genre I’m dabbling into. I make sure that it’s something that’s authentic to me.

So it wasn’t very hard for me because, like I said, I grew up in the U.K. I moved to the U.S. as well at a very young age. R&B and soul has always been part of my musical catalog growing up, so it wasn’t hard.

You’ve often been the “first” — the first woman in many Afrobeats spaces, the first to break certain barriers. What has carrying that responsibility taught you about resilience?

It sounds great when people say, you know, you were the first to do this, and you were the first — but it’s actually difficult because, in essence, you are the scapegoat. You are the experiment. You are the one that goes to do certain things first, and you oftentimes get criticized for it… And then, if you don’t give up and you become successful, then it’s easier for the next person.

It hasn’t always been easy being the first to do many things or wearing the hat of the first to do many things because, again, it wasn’t done before. I had a lot of people question it, or they didn’t believe it could be done, so oftentimes it was hard.

But now, looking back, I think I’m just grateful to God — to whom much is given, much is expected… I guess they say you make it look easy, but it wasn’t easy.

And how did it feel?

It was pressure. I’ll give an example: When I first moved back to Nigeria, I was doing Afrobeat. I’m a lover of tattoos. I have a full sleeve, tattoos everywhere. In my culture, that’s not for a woman anyway, it’s not done. And I was one of the first, I would say, women in the industry, in my culture, to do that.

And I was met with, “You’re gonna go to hell,” and this Bible verse, and this, and, you know, “You are a bad example to young females looking up to you.” Those are the kinds of things I was met with.

Or, being an ambassador for a certain product, and people thinking that women would not sell certain things, so you have to convince the company that, “I have fans, and people will come out, or people will spend their money if you use me as an ambassador.”

So, it was a lot of pressure. It was a lot of convincing, not to the fans, but convincing the gatekeepers or the companies, so to say.

There’s a lot of talk about “passing the torch” in Afrobeats. But you’ve said you’re not ready to retire — that women can stand together instead of competing. How do you see your role among today’s new generation of African women artists?

I love it. I feel like there’s space for everyone. I think that’s the thing, I don’t think anybody’s speaking to the male artists and saying, “You guys have to retire so that the other male artists can come up.”

It’s like it’s understood that they can all coexist. But for some reason, with women, It’s like there can only be a certain two at a time. And that’s one of the things I’m trying to fight against, that’s not the case. You can have a Tiwa Savage, a Tems, an Ayra Starr, a Bloody Civilian, all coexist in the same space.

‘Cause, you know, I have my audience who have grown with me over the years — and imagine I just stop singing and stop feeding them with music. What do they listen to? I think we can all coexist.

You’ve collaborated with icons like Beyoncé, Brandy, and Nas — and now Skepta on this project. What have you learned about the power of collaboration across cultures?

I think it’s the future. I think collaboration is so, so important. One, because it brings different people of different genres together. Someone like myself and Skepta, we don’t do the same genre of music, but the song is amazing, you know. And I think that’s the future.

I think tapping into different people’s audiences, or you bringing your audience and me bringing my audience and coming together, I think collaboration is key. I think it’s really important for bridging the gap between genres and culture as well.

This album explores heartbreak, healing, and self-discovery — universal themes. But through your lens as an African woman, how do you think that perspective adds depth to the R&B conversation globally?

I think that’s easy. I think that just further proves that we’re all human, and music — whether you speak my language or not, music is a spiritual thing. So it further proves that we all go through the same things: heartbreak, healing, self-discovery, like you said, whether I’m an African woman or not.

And I think that’s the beauty of it, where someone in Australia who’s not of African descent can relate to my music. It’s something that I went through all the way across the globe, you know? I think it just proves that music is universal.

Afrobeats has exploded worldwide, but now you’re helping build a bridge between Afrobeats, R&B and U.S. audiences. What do you hope listeners in the diaspora and beyond take away from this project?

What I wanted to prove to myself is that I can’t just be limited to Afrobeat. Especially with my background — I studied jazz at Berklee College of Music and got into music through R&B and soul. I think the lines between genres are becoming so blurred. It’s hard to say one artist is doing just one thing, especially with the amazing thing Beyoncé just did with the country album — proving that as an artist, you can really do anything.

I think that’s important for us as African artists. We don’t want to be boxed in, saying we can only do Afrobeat. Music in general, R&B, soul, blues, jazz, if you trace it back, it all comes from Africa. That’s the home of modern-day music anyway. That’s why we’re able to do Afro-swing, Afro-hip hop, Afro-pop, or whatever subgenre you want to call it.

In my contribution, I want to show the world that as an African woman, I can do Afrobeat — but I can also do rhythm and blues, and, again, do it authentically.

You’ve called this your “heartbreak album.” What do you hope fans who might be going through their own heartbreaks will feel when they hear it?

 I hope they feel the pain that I went through but also feel hope when they listen to a song like “Change,” which is the last song, featuring James Fauntleroy. Ultimately you’ll get through it no matter how hard the situation is ’cause my situation, it felt like the end of the world for me. It felt like I couldn’t — it was so hard, it felt like a spiritual attack. I want them to feel how much pain I went through. But then, at the end of the project or the end of the album, listening to songs like “Change,” knowing that I was able to get through it.

There’s hope. And no matter what it is, you will, you will get through it. And it sounds cliche, but it’s cliche because it’s true. You will get through it. 

Looking back, what moment in your career prepared you most for this project?

Oh, nothing. I don’t think anything could prepare you for heartbreak. Nothing. I was not prepared. I think that’s why it hit me so hard. And it wasn’t even just heartbreak, I was in a space in my life where I had been in the industry for a long time. That situation forced me to look at myself and ask, “What next?” and put myself first.

There were a lot of moving parts, and I lost friendships too. When you’ve been used to saying “yes” to so many things, the minute you start saying no, you actually lose friends. You realize maybe some of those people weren’t really friends in the first place.

So it wasn’t just heartbreak, it was a turning point in my life. But maybe it’s a good thing that nothing prepared me for it.

You’ve accomplished so much, but you’ve said you still feel like you have more to prove to yourself. What does “success” look like for Tiwa Savage at this stage of your journey?

You know, I would say initially, with most artists — when you’re starting out, you’re thinking, “I want to make billions of streams, I want to win 20 Grammys, I want to perform in stadiums.” And I still want to do that, by God’s grace.

I’m not being corny or capping: When I’m standing on stage, no matter how big or small, and I see the people in front singing word for word — or I go to a place like New Zealand, and see people who I had no idea even knew me, singing songs that aren’t even my popular ones, just songs from albums and they’re singing word for word — that is success to me.