Dibs is Here to Stay

It’s quite fitting that a youngster just out of his teens would produce a soothingly affirmative record like “Higher.” There’s a dreamy element to the whole thing, which implicitly contributes to the feeling of the song. Its amapiano undertones cast back to the period when Burna Boy was an early Nigerian participator in the buzzing South African genre, through the Kabza De Small-hosted “Sponono.” Its video is a pain-streaked yet inspiring depiction of life in the Grammy winner’s Port Harcourt hometown, and all this scored by Dibs’ masterfully minimalist hand.

For many, though, their knowledge of Dibs came through his work with Seyi Vibez. A starlight of the Nigerian music scene, Seyi’s progression from inner city poet to billboard darling was needed. It forced many to look at a life they would otherwise negate, one where chances of bliss are slim and crooks are made out of tender souls. When that progression happened, alongside Seyi was Dibs, who soundtracked his collaborator’s soulful zest with immaculate resonance.

Their work started with “Chance (Na Ham),” whose beat was created while Dibs was sick, as he told Legit NG in an interview. He’d been in the studio sleeping, having forgotten to go home to get his medicine, when he felt someone tap him. It was Seyi Vibez, who wanted them to create music. “Then we headed into the studio and I played [the ‘Chance’ beat] for him,” said Dibs. “We did a few tweaks and went ahead with recording. At one point, Seyi Vibez wasn’t feeling the beat and wanted us to create something else. But I was able to convince him to do four bars on it for the sake of time and he agreed. He started writing, and the moment he started recording, I knew it was a hit.”

Since then Dibs has influenced almost everything Seyi Vibez has put out. It’s evident in the sparse percussion of “Chance, and the feeling of its incantatory sonic base. Dibs was the guy for Seyi and signatures of his production style were clearly stamped on projects such as Thy Kingdom Come, NAHAMciaga EP, and Loseyi Professor, the artist’s latest project which came out a few weeks ago.

Making music with Seyi Vibez is “a really nice experience,” Dibs says. “It’s straightforward and very fast, because Seyi loves his recording to be fast. Sometimes we can make a song in under thirty minutes. We can make an EP in two days. That just tells you how fast he is. He makes making music feel so easy.”

- YouTube

Listening to Seyi Vibez, the skill and effort Dibs contributes to each of his productions is evident. From the rustic charms of “Different Pattern” to the classical-leaning serenity of “Karma,” each has Dibs’ ear for high musical sensibilities. The producer traces this to his musically-keen family; his dad showed profound love for live music and “was always jamming it every morning,” says Dibs. “Even my mum loves all this Christian music, and was always jamming it. King Sunny Ade and the rest. From there I began to like and fall in love with music.”

They lived in Festac Town, a neighborhood in central Lagos whose presence is entrenched in Nigerian cultural history, mainly due to its hosting of the historic Pan-African convention in 1977. It was also one of the important hubs of the 2000s music scene. For Dibs, though, it was just another place and music production came through “boredom,” he says. “Just doing my normal thing when I was bored. I just picked up my phone, I made beats, and from there, I entered my laptop and made beats, those kind of things.”

“I love music so much, I like to know how it’s done,” he tells me. “[It] was the only thing in my mind then. In my primary school, I was in the drummer boys. I left it for a while sha. Then in my secondary school, I started producing on my phone. I just continued to do it. There was this period where they stole my phone. So from there, I moved to the laptop.”

Dibs has further worked with T.I Blaze, another major voice in the contemporary street hop scene. Among other records, on “Far Away” and “Motivate,” the singer’s tales of hedonism and melancholy are perfectly soundtracked by Dibs, whose mid-tempo tendencies become quite apparent. In the same way, you can hear Balloranking — who is usually more nihilistic — become a lover-butterfly under the luscious glow of Dibs’ production on “Caro,” whose handling of Nigerian pop lingo enhances its emotional novelty.

With his expanding client base, it’s becoming more apparent that Dibs has fashioned a working method that puts his collaborators at ease. In typical fashion, he underplays this; all credit is to the music. “It’s very easy, I just create whatever comes to my head,” he says. “I don’t have this way I follow to make my beats. I just do it as it comes — freely.”