Blu*3 at Oba Fest was the third time the girls were headlining a show after their debut concert in 20 years. PHOTOS/ ANDREW KAGGWA/COURTESY
We definitely know what you are thinking; sQoop and Daily Monitor just delivered a lead story with a glaring mistake. Maybe we should take on X (formerly Twitter) to shame them.
But we know what we are doing, and probably the last people in print that know exactly what we are doing. Yes, the calendar indeed reads 2024, but while looking at the highlights of this year in music, there was so little 2024 gave to write home about.
If you are not getting it, we mean that the industry has generally failed to deliver anything really outstanding; the industry has not delivered a ground-breaking artiste such as Azawi in 2020, Joshua Baraka at the end of 2022, or Elijah Kitaka in 2023. We are politely saying it without bruising egos. Some of the biggest songs of the year are songs we cannot even play in front of people that respect us. We have sunk so low that we had to hang onto AI to remind us how yesteryears were glorious; thus, we used technology to attach a deceased Mowzey Radio to all songs we could find out there.
And one of the AI versions he is on has been one of the biggest songs this year, sometimes even beating the original.
Starting off Welcome to a year we have spent reminiscing on how beautiful the music from the early 2000s was, how the lyrics spoke to us, and how the artistes actually used the same vocals on tape and stage.
Oh, the good old days that became normal in 2024, 20 years after most of the songs they were performing were recorded. But to tell this year’s story right, we have to tell it from the beginning.
The night of August 19 at Kampala Serena’s Victoria Conference Hall.
Juliana Kanyomozi hosted a sold-out concert at the venue; it was her first show in more than 10 years, performing for about an hour and a half, leaving her audience yearning for more.
Later that year, she became the first artiste to grace the second season of Tusker Conversessions. Like that, the stage had been set for the next two years.
But it has only been in 2024 that the early 2000s came back to claim the music industry.
Of course, there are various reasons why the trend has been growing; for example, Tugende Mukikadde, the annual show that has for years programmed artistes from the past, has played a big role in reintroducing artistes to an audience that may not have minded them.
From one artiste to the rest, we started digging them out, and here we are. When you look at our festivals, concerts, and thematic shows, the highlights are not from Uganda’s existing class of club bangers but from artistes you had no idea would appear on a stage this year.
To get us right, artistes have actually released new music; some of it was amazing. Azawi started off the year with Masavu, only for her party to be ruined by some reckless person who put Radio’s AI-generated voice, then other artistes such as Rema too had songs that drove people crazy.
Oldies reclaim space
However, many times an industry and its growth are judged by the number of people that are willing to work with it and probably pay for the craft.
In that regard, this year was lost to the past; for the first time, corporate Uganda was thrilled with throwbacks rather than with what is trending. It was easy finding Uganda’s corporate Ugandans spending thrice they spend at an ordinary concert at a throwback concert of Blu*3, Iryn Namubiru, Haruna Mubiru, and Ronald Mayinja.
“There is something that these shows come with that you cannot get from concerts today: the pure talent and the songs being about something; they resonate,” commented one of the revellers at the Blu*3 reunion concert During the press conference where Tugende mu Kikadde was announced this year, one of the panelists, while referring to Mariam Mulinde, noted that the difference between artistes from the early 2000s and the artistes today is the dedication to the craft.
At the same presser, Ronald Mayinja and Stecia Mayanja, both of whom will perform at this year’s Tugende mu Kikadde, both noted that social media and platforms such as TikTok have spread old music
to people who may not have known it.
“I find young people singing my older songs and later doing challenges; I do not even know how they have uploaded it, but I appreciate it,” Ronald Mayinja says.
Betty Mpologoma, whose song Londa e Number came back into circulation after the phrase ‘Atakwagala oba Omulaba’started trending on video sharing platforms, and before it was too late, cover bands picked up the song, and soon she was back on the road performing the song.
“I would like to thank the young people on TikTok; they gave our music new life,” she said.
Thanks to TikTok
However, even when TikTok is part of the many avenues bringing the 2000s back in vogue, it has also been responsible for allowing more artistes into the industry without a hustle.
For instance, songs such as AaronX’s Nja Lwala first found its fame on TikTok before becoming a mainstream anthem.
However, for every artiste who can play and compose a proper song such as AaronX, there is someone releasing Muzabibu, Chai We Enjaye, Nyash, Enkudi, Kinawolovu and Hozambe. Music being subjective, the songs could be celebrated by some people, but what they say and the way they say it leaves a lot to be desired.
With such songs picking up and going viral, mainstream artistes are now trying to scandalise to impress.
For instance, Gravity has for years made it a habit to release songs with questionable titles but manages to defend as innocent misunderstood songs by perverts.
The trending culture in popular music has shifted the conversation from the artiste’s art to how the artiste looks like or what they are doing, and many are glad to offer that rather than the music.
Need to trend For instance, Gloria Bugie and Shakira Shakira, who are allegedly artistes, have this year been trending for their body shapes and videos or pictures leaking in some way rather than for their music.
Yet, if algorithms are anything to follow, these have been the most listened to artistes. Gloria Bugie’s broken vocals on Nyash managed to attract at least a million views on YouTube; Tom Dee has more than 2.4 million views for his Muzabibu and Recho Rey’s Biwatto has at least more than 1.5 million views. All these are in less than a year.
Much as the music brings people to the dancefloor and YouTube, they have not attracted people to shows and festivals.
The organisers of festivals such as Roast and Rhyme or Blankets and Wine have constantly chosen to dig deeper into the artistes of the 2000s for headliners. For instance, Oba Fest and Roast and Rhyme took place in two weeks, and yet both somehow still had to rely on Bebe Cool, Blu*3, and Irene Namubiru.
Blu*3 at Oba Fest was the third time the girls were headlining a show after their debut concert in 20 years. Besides the girls though, Mesach Semakula, since his concert, has headlined a club night at Silo 15, the band nights at The Villa, Noni Vie, and Skyz Hotel have all come alive with artistes many believed their influence was somewhere in 2004.
It has not been all doom, how ever, even in the thick of forgettable music, some artistes such as Kohen Jaycee, Elijah Kitaka, Ceee, Akiene, and Likkle Bangi have tried to keep the lights on; however, they have not been celebrated as much as we have Omuzabibu. Yet we cannot remember how it even starts.
