In the last couple of years, Afrobeats has experienced a significant shift, especially within its contemporary RnB/Pop scenes. Its softer edges now lean more heavily into emotional vulnerability, textured production and diary-like songwriting. From how singers frame their soundscapes to the depth of intimacy in the lyricism, a lot of songs on rotation are cradled with heartfelt resonance and a distinct sonority that has fueled an increasing hunger for such tunes.

Ever since Tems broke out circa 2019, several songbirds have begun to see this formula as successful. Not many have hacked it, though. Yet, the catalogues speak of effort. One of such catalogues, which sprawls with promise and potential, belongs to a neo-soul diva named Fewa. Since her 2022 breakout, the singer and songwriter has created one of the more compelling catalogues in Nigeria’s alt-R&B underground, catapulting her as one of the most talented acts across Afrobeats’ newcomer class. Her latest EP, Rewind, feels like her clearest statement yet.

In the five-track spin, Fewa, real name Omotola Ijaola, creates a chapbook of introspective, moody and addictive melodies that documents her experiences with self-belief, romance and personal growth.

The EP begins with “Creator”, a fascinating neo-soul tune that takes one back to the immersive soundscapes of powerhouses like Sade Adu, Tems and Erykah Badu. “Everything I touch is gold/ What a gift from God/ I am a creator/ I am a delicate force of nature,” she floats over tender percussion and dreamy piano chords. As a young, fierce, courageous chanteuse existing in such a competitive terrain, the song feels like pages off her journal. The lyrics arrive as convincing and profound, flanked with emotional emphasis from her refrains, falsettos and a powerful spoken-word interlude from her mother at the end of the track.

From the second track, one gets a closer glimpse into Fewa’s world. Her radio dub-esque chorus, “We go go Paris/ Need no visa/ Boy you know we be like 5 and 6/ Boy you high me like we drink pami,” enshrines her love escapades with the reckless excitement of early-stage romance. It feels raw, smoothened and deeply romantic. It sets the tone for her loose emotional arc that drifts from self-preservation to escapist romance. At this point, she’s fully warped in her neo-soul boulevard where her sonority shines brightest.

By the third track, “Crazy”, it’s clear that her music is more than just melodies. Each track feels like a core memory, a memento of sorts, buttered with personal experiences of both giddy and lovelorn romance. “Fingers swiping/ I see your phone hiding right behind you,” she hammers, while letting her octaves soar freely to full range as she moves from sombre to warm tones. When she screams, “I have had enoughhhhh!” one can get the bigger picture, one tainted with pain, confrontation and catharsis on a canvas of her vocals.

In “Ricochet”, which is arguably the EP’s most anti-climactic moment, she taps Savy Henry in a tug-of-war style duet on sensual surrender. She flips pure yearning into deep poetry when she sings, “Those eyes so deep I’m getting lost in them/ Got me caught up in your gravity/ Every touch defenceless/ Dance with me under the moonlight…/ I’d ricochet back to you.” Both acts complement each other softly in this track as they weave stories of clingy romance, affirming their sonic personas as hopeless romantics.

By the closing track, “Remember”, Fewa paddles inward. She talks about fighting anxiety, bursting with emotion and grasping for survival. “Sometimes I can’t lie, it’s hard to breathe/ I’m always stuck in one of my feelings/ Under the weight of all my fears.” She connects with her most pristine emotions, labelling hope as the ultimate antidote to anxiety. “What are you waiting for?/ Every single thing I laid down for you/ Yesterday is gone/ Remember you’re not done.” She’s clear-headed, resolute and absolute in her convictions as she sings. It’s a cohesive full-circle moment from the opening track, “Creator”, reminding everyone that, at the end of the day, “Life is like a game of chess” and we’re all destined to make moves.

Overall, Rewind feels like a coming-of-age story of a young woman navigating life, love and self-development. Each track feels like an extension of the other, and her chord-heavy neo-soul sojourn warps the entire playlist together like one very lengthy song. Its warmth feels best suited for a quiet, reflective afternoon by the beach. It’s heartfelt, honest and emotionally fluid. In an era where premium is placed on artistry and originality, Fewa seems to be a champion of the new wave; one who has first learned to be a champion of self long before the sonics. It sits at 8/10.