The beat goes on!

In our family, music isn’t just a hobby — it’s in the blood.

At every party, Dad would sit there and casually compose songs on the spot for the legends themselves: King Sunny Adé, Chief Ebenezer Obey, and Tony Adex. The big men would smile, nod, and sing his lines like they had always been part of their repertoire.

Fast-forward to the present, and the gift didn’t skip a generation.

At Nana’s birthday, I wrote a special song for Chief Ayinde Barrister. Barry Wonder heard it, turned to his boys and said, “American special ni mo fẹ nitori Barrister lawyer mi à la fẹ!” The whole place lit up.

Then there was that night at the party in Aiyepe. K1 De Ultimate was about to start his usual praise for me when I leaned in and whispered the lines I wanted him to sing. He stopped, looked at me in pure shock, and said:

“Mi ò mọ̀ pé Barrister lawyer náà máa ń kọrin…”

Then he launched into it with that signature K1 fire:

“Barrister lawyer Lamilekan Amusa mi ooo… Barrister lawyer Lekan Lekan ọmọ Amusa ooo!”

The crowd lost their minds.

But the one that still gives me chills happened in London. Shina Peters was in the middle of a blazing set when I quietly told him to stop the beat and switch it. He did. The band dropped into a new groove and the entire hall erupted as they started chanting:

“If you love Shina music, say Shina!”

One family. Generations of it. And the best goes on!