P.Priime is Expanding the Afrobeats Sound

He has produced tracks for everyone from Shallipopi, Odumodublvck and Victony, to now the prodigal Rema. It’s no wonder that his first musical memory involves breaking all the plastic in his mother’s Lagos corner store. “My brother played the drums, so I also wanted to play the drums,” P.Priime tells OkayAfrica. “I just watched what he was doing and then I’d go to my mom’s shop and just play on everything, scatter everything, and break it. She’d say, ‘What is wrong with you?!’”

P.Priime’s musical come up involves a collage of familial elements. He played drums and keys for his church choir; his father owned a music school; his step brother used to DJ in his shop right next to his mom’s; and his older brother even bought him recording software, laptops, and studio sessions. Once he had compiled all of his resources the rest was up to him. “I used to DJ virtually and play extra piano chords over songs that were already out,” he says. “Then one day, I just decided to take out the original song and I literally had a complete beat.”

P.Priime was influenced early on by the prolific Nigerian producer Sarz, but he also found the early chaos he craved from EDM acts like Major Lazer, Diplo and Skrillex. This would be his impetus to actually find a sound of his own. “I feel like that's what actually got me interested in making music, hearing producers just do something crazy with a beat,” he proclaims. “I liked how after the artist did their thing then the producers had a musical drop with just the instrumental playing.”

Exploring this concept of “the drop” became the ethos of P.Priime’s instrumentals. He would eventually carry this proficiency to the likes of artists in nearly every pocket of the Afrobeats genre, finding ways to even drop the beat while the vocals were still ringing. We spoke to the producer about all the work that’s led him to his current progressive sound.

This interview is lightly edited for length and clarity.

OkayAfrica: Can you tell me about crafting songs for Wizkid? He was one of your first major credits and you’ve continued to work together.

What about "Bandana" by Fireboy DML and Asake? That’s a huge song from your career.

“Bandana” is the result of a session in 2019 or 2020. We worked on like six or seven songs that night. To be very honest, I never really liked it and that's one of my biggest songs today. I said to Fireboy, 'I’ve made better songs than this. Why are you putting this out?' Then [the final song] sounded amazing. I feel like that also changed a lot of things for me because [it made me realize that] sometimes I don't know. Sometimes [I just need to] trust the process and trust the artist.

How did you get involved with the Wakanda Forever soundtrack and what knowledge did you take from doing that?

They reached out to my manager because they were having sessions in Lagos. I went to the session and met Ludwig [Göransson]. We connected musically and were making a bunch of ideas. The one thing I took out of that was, I liked the way he never really stayed on one idea. He was always flipping it. He never really said ‘Okay, this is how it's gonna be, and this how it stays to the end of the song.’ He would pitch it up, pitch it down, stretch it, just fuck with it. He was basically formless.

What was your favorite part of those sessions?

My favorite part I remember the most was being in the studio and meeting Rema. And telling him, 'I dey find you.' That means 'I'm looking for you.' He said, 'Why you dey find me?' I said 'No wahala, I will text you.' Then after that, weeks later, I texted him. I said, 'I want to send you ideas.' I sent him a bunch of shit and we clicked from there.

Do you think the influence of doing something for cinema impacted your work on Rema’s Ravage Ep and his new album HEIS?

When I was at the Black Panther session, all they kept saying to me was, 'Just bring your own elements.' I literally just came with all that has been inside of me. All of this cinematic music has always been in me because the church I grew up in was an Anglican Church. And in the Anglican church, they sing lots of hymns. You’re required to know how to read and write notes. When I was little, actually, I didn't want to become a producer. I was gonna work in music, but I thought I was gonna make music like Mozart. I thought I was gonna be writing sheets and what not. That's always been the dream for me. So working on all of these things feels like letting out that part of myself that's been buried for so long. Working with an artist like Rema, we are on the same wavelength at this stage, so it’s allowed me to also bring a part of me that was buried before.

How did he describe what he wanted sonically for HEIS?

He said he was angry. And he just had a lot to let go of, to let off his chest. Maybe next time, when he feels in love, we'll make something that sounds like that, but right now, he just wants to let go of all the anger in him. That's the one thing he said to me and I just went crazy.

I feel like there’s a very real correlation between the EDM influence you have and channeling that into anger, especially at the beginning of the album on “March AM” and “AZAMAN.”

Even if you listen to songs like “VILLAIN,” the part where the 808 comes in with the log drums on the hook part, it could literally pass for a drop. If you took out the vocals it could also work. I feel like all of those things were just things that were birthed and just popped out.

On those first few songs you did, “March AM” in particular, there’s these really dirty sounding synth patterns. Where did those come from?

Rema was, like, I have this idea in my head. When he sang that [main part] I just played it like a melody. Then I had to go and find the right sound because he said he was angry so I didn’t want it to sound so beautiful. I just wanted something to convey the right emotions. Then I just took it and built from there.

Were you there when Rema did the “HEHEHE” thing in the studio?

No, no, no, he played me the song and I was like, 'What the fuck, bro? What the fuck are you doing?' That was insane. I think the only session I was actually there for when he recorded vocals was “AZAMAN.” I usually just make the beats and leave. The reason why I was in the “AZAMAN” session was because we made the beat the same day. I feel like that session is a story for another day because I'm not gonna lie, it was insane. Basically, I drove to the session and my friend had to drive me out of the session. That’s how intense it was. We turned the session into a party. It was too much fun.

As someone who has been at the center of this sonic shift in the Afrobeats space, producing for everyone from Victony, Shallipopi, Odumodublvck, and now this culmination with Rema, how do you think your work has impacted everything and where does it go from here?

I feel like it's a wake up call for everyone. It's a wake up call for the producers, the musicians, the artists, and even the listeners. Everyone might be in denial right now, but personally the first half of this year, and even last year, I barely heard anything that moved me. Barely anything that provoked me to get back into the studio. I've seen comments where people say, 'Oh, this Rema album sounds like noisy songs. This doesn't sound cool.' That's fine, but the one thing I won't accept is that it didn’t wake up something in you and it didn't make you feel some sort of way. I keep asking myself the question, 'If I didn't produce on this, would I still like the songs on this project?' I'll be very honest, I think I would. Because there's no way I'm going to hear those beats and I'm not going to want to turn on my laptop and see if I can do something like that. There's no way you're going to hear those songs and not want to get up and move.