Asake’s ‘Lungu Boy’ Tour Rocks Madison Square Garden: Review

From Lagos, Nigeria For New York, New York is the corner. There’s a dividing line between neighborhoods around the world where money may be low but vibes are high, and as Asaki recreated the rough Lagos streets he encountered at his first headlining show at Madison Square Garden, he used his budding musicality to connect worlds. “Let me talk to my people,” he told the crowd early on. “I love this energy. I love New York.”

His current tour is named after his latest album, Longo BoyThe name translates to “ghetto boy,” and it highlights the bastions of creativity and community that poor, black areas can be. When the dark curtain fell from the ceiling and was pulled away by workers as his concert began, it revealed a stage strategically lined with stacks of tires, shipping barrels, stacks of old TVs broadcasting Asaki’s face, and bright, colorful graffiti.

The artwork, its dancers in denim shorts and Timberland boots, and the skilful scratching by one of the DJs who populated the set, resembled the New York street culture that went on to make hip-hop a dominant musical movement around the world and the foundation of the Afrobeats genre that Asake made his domain. “It was hip-hop but it was local to us,” said Nigerian music critic Ayomide Taiwo. Ok player “The rap had a lot of slang, a lot of local languages ​​mixed in, and the instrumentals weren’t just pure hip-hop, they were incorporating original Nigerian recordings into it.”

Asake was a masterful arbiter of this essence, fusing indigenous Nigerian music like fuji and South African amapiano with the energy and swagger of hip-hop. His rich, complex voice on wax was elevated to new levels live.

Each member of his band stood on their own stage, the backdrop behind them lined with the sort of rusty tin sheets that could be used to build houses in the slums of West Africa. There were several street signs erected across the stage with Lagos landmarks on them, such as Adeniji Adele, where recent reports say the government has moved to demolish shanty towns where they claim criminals and drug dealers hide. Asake took the stage to sing “Start” by Longo Boyholding a red metal baseball bat, this bat, which seemed to be a sign of chaos and violence, was a conductor's baton.

While the creation of an informal street corner on stage certainly seemed intentional, the show also had a certain randomness that felt disappointing at times. His dancers were energetic but often a bit out of sync, as if they were being asked to take their routines but do whatever they wanted. And while Asaki had moments of energy, like when he joined them for some powerful moves to “Fuji Vibes” from his new album, he mostly performed from his DJ decks in the right corner, as if they were just hanging out.

Sometimes the dialogue elements of the show were charming, like when he improvised during special guest Friday’s performance of “Blessings,” or when he and Sars sang their hit “Happiness” to each other. But sometimes it left a lull in the enthusiasm, as did the very long setlist of about thirty songs. He and the DJs seemed to sense it, asking for more from the fans throughout the night—more singing, more volume, more energy.

In contrast, the concert often felt more like a spectacle than an experience. It was definitely a sight to behold, from the fog and fireworks that crackled and exploded with “Ligali” and “Organize” to the row of flamethrowers that lit up the arena during songs like “Amapiano” and “Skating,” performing their own dance as the fire blew in rhythmic patterns. “Skating” was one of the most elaborate shows, with real skateboarders and bikers twirling around the stage wearing concert merchandise while dancers mimed riding a skateboard themselves.

During “Basquiat,” Asake wielded a smoke cannon like a Gotham City villain, and before a vibrant performance of “MMS,” he roared to the audience’s torches. “I need a light“I’m hungry for it!” he whispered. When it came time for his latest single “Active” with Travis Scott, Asaki took off for two laps around the park floor, with security and cameras seemingly struggling to keep up. One fan jumped playfully into her seat after she managed to touch him as he ran. His singing, however, was less about engaging with the crowd than embracing his relationship with his music. Asaki sang with power and clarity, often seeming lost in his own voice.

But what really carried the show were the intense, poignant, and entirely new arrangements he and his band delivered. There was just a drummer thrashing and slapping, and three guys on keys, one of whom also played guitar, but the music was orchestral. It was captivating, their take on a ’90s R&B beat to reimagine “Muse” from his hit album Mr. Money with Phoebeto the urgency they gave to Basquiat, which made it sound like the music of a superhero movie.

Asaki’s biggest hits – “Joha,” “Terminator,” “Organize,” “Sungba,” and “Peace Be Unto You” – were reserved for the end of the show (and with the jam-packed setlist, it felt like a very long wait). Still, everyone on stage gave it their all in a fiery whirl of organized chaos, the kind of show of power and grandeur one might expect from an Afrobeats show in the park, especially after Burna Boy named the venue the genre in 2022. Instead, however, Asaki leaned on the unique power of his homegrown sound and his love for it to bring Longo To New York City.