The Spiritual Melodies of Wizard Chan
Wizard Chan is not your regular artist. The Okrika-born Rivers state native diffuses immense spirituality into his sound, which so far has reflected influences from genres as varied as reggae, Afropop, hip-hop, R&B and soul, among others.
Released about two years ago, “Earth Song" brought Chan's breakthrough. It’s a pulsating record about the demands of tradition and the seeking of clarity amidst intergenerational issues and, in this writer's opinion, it stands among the most well-composed songs that have come out of Nigeria.
OkayAfrica recently got in touch with Chan to talk about his debut EP, The Messenger — which has been a hot topic everywhere, especially on social media where Chan maintains a hearty but mystique-driven presence.
The Messenger is a fine collection of what Chan has been up to. An intimate showcase of his thought process, the EP plays out like a philosophical conversation between a man and the “higher powers,” as he describes. Quiet, almost-muted drums create the soundscape alongside violins and string instruments soaked with feeling. The associative image is one of someone reflecting by the water, with such implicit imagery typically realized among musicians with roots to coastal areas.
Chan's promotional social media videos are usually shot within expansive, thick forests, his stocky build moving with melancholy through the greenery. This alludes to his ‘Native Doctor’ nickname, but also relates back to the music: Chan is like an herbalist trying to reach the desired potency, carefully selecting his herbs out of a varied bag of musical influences and preparing them with great precision.
Talking about the themes in the EP, Chan mentions to OkayAfrica that he’s trying to bring a “message of God, peace, understanding, anger management, and success." The EP has been in the works for some time — “Mr Sailor Man,” for example, was written in 2016 — but the records were only recently put into a cohesive body of work. “When we made our mind that we wanted to put out The Messenger EP, we had to make a compilation, which was only done around January,” he explains.
The collaborative process was closely-realized, as Chan called upon trusted hands and voices. The majority of the EP’s nine songs were produced by Pumba Mix, whom the artist had been working with since 2019, when he carried out his mandatory year of service for Nigerian university graduates in the sweltering northern town of Sokoto. Other producers on the tape are UCee, Ronehi, Mr. Soul, Kayce House and frnchfriessss. The featured artists are Joeboy (“a good friend of mine”), Dino Zee, a rapper from the northern part of Nigeria, and “the legendary” Boma Nime, whose contribution infuses a soulful nativity into Chan’s wide-ranging ambition.
“It was all easy because the EP was made with love,” Chan says.
On “Pray Hard,” his versatility shines through as he flows purposefully through a trap-tinged production, featuring a guitar reminiscent of Latin pop. “Legacy” also reveals that affinity for bouncy beats, but as he tends to do, Chan's vocals approach a reflective direction, waxing philosophical and soulful as he infers that “time is the enemy of man” and that “in the end, we’ll all have our truce.” A core piece in the EP’s structuring is “Demons & Angels,” a record where his quaint songwriting unfurls with layered edges. As the title suggests, it’s a reflection of the different sides that make up a person, an exercise in representation but also reflection, knowing how to balance these energies. He sings,“Worry only takes the peace of today, not the problems that comes with tomorrow / Emotions like a pregnancy, it cannot be hidden for a long time, it’s a hard pill to swallow."
Chan grew up Fuayefika Maxwell in the city of Port Harcourt. He lived in a semi-urban neighborhood known as Borokiri, which Chan describes as “a mixture between the rich and poor.” Cultism clashes were frequent and militants resided in the area, stoking tension within the area. Chan’s father, a local chief, was well-to-do but kept his family there in Borokiri. Chan remembers that he had friends who didn’t have much and he’d share his food and other supplies with them. “That’s what shaped me,” Chan says. “I feel like just understanding what it means to have, and at the same time seeing what it means not to have, was the first step to being conscious.”
We spoke about God, since much of Chan’s music espouses the gray areas between religion and spirituality. He speaks for the latter as he’s long seen through the hypocrisies of certain churches and the divisive nature of religion, especially in Nigerian society. As a child, fellow church-goers would gossip about his parents and his family, as they assumed he didn’t undertand he local Kirike language. “I believe that I cannot properly dissect what or who God is,” he says, “but there’s definitely someone or some higher power that created this beautiful piece called earth, and human life. If you can believe that there are dark powers, why can’t you believe there’s a bright power? 'Cause there has to be good and bad, right?”
It has taken some time for everything to blend into Chan’s own vision of sound. He’s been making music for 13 years, but wasn’t rushing to “blow,” since the art always came first. “I consider myself a perfectionist,” he affirms. “Whatever’s worth doing is worth doing well. The kind of music I was making then wasn’t worth it,” he says without a tint of regret in his tone. “Now, I can say it’s worth it. Now I can say, there’s no one like Chan."