‘Kelebu’ shows Rema’s relentless pursuit of difference to even at a cost

When Rema released his sophomore album HEIS, he made it clear that his mission was to be more than just another Afrobeats star.

The project, powered by the street-born Mara beat, was loud, breathless, and unapologetically experimental. It backed his bold claim that the Afrobeats “Big 3” should expand to a “Big 4,” with his name firmly on the list.

HEIS didn’t just resonate; it stormed clubs, turned his concerts into mosh pits, earned a Grammy nomination, and cemented his reputation as an artist unafraid to take risks.

In 2025, after briefly softening his sound for an international audience with the R&B-styled singles Is It A Crime and Bout U, Rema returned to African pop with Kelebu, a track he envisioned as the soundtrack of the summer.

Drawing from his rage-fuelled delivery on songs like Ozeba and Azaman, he plugged that energy into Coupe Decale, the pulsating francophone dance sound.

True to form, Rema made it bigger and louder—booming horns, emphatic keys, and pounding drums matched his chest-thumping delivery.

Yet Kelebu has struggled to connect with listeners.

Despite an initial push through a $10,000 dance challenge on social media, its momentum fizzled.

The track debuted at No. 5 on the TurnTable Top 100, slipped to No. 8 the following week, and now sits at No. 50 on Spotify’s Nigeria daily chart, having already fallen out of Apple Music’s Top 100.

For a song designed as a summer anthem, the reception has been underwhelming.

The reason may lie in the song’s sonics.

While Coupe Decale is not unfamiliar to West African audiences—Awilo Longomba’s Coupé Bibamba remains a timeless classic—Rema’s interpretation pushes the sound into abrasive territory.

The beat insists on movement, but its structure is overwhelming, almost too grandiose for casual listening.

It thrives in clubs and raves, where energy outweighs scrutiny, but for the wider audience, it feels inaccessible.

Rema’s career has always been about rejecting the ordinary.

From his early trap experiments to his anime-inspired imagery and his self-mythology that casts him as “the chosen one” in the vein of Jesus Christ or Neo from The Matrix, his artistry has never aimed for simplicity.

Every release is designed to feel distinct, even if that distinction alienates listeners.

With Kelebu, that gamble didn’t pay off.

The song stands as proof of Rema’s determination to be different at all costs, even when the outcome is a miss.

For an artist who thrives on risk-taking, it’s another reminder that daring doesn’t always guarantee resonance—but for Rema, blending in has never been an option.