Afrobeats needs more fearless creators to evolve — DJ Big N

Disc jockey, Nonso Temisan, professionally known as DJ Big N, speaks with FAITH AJAYI about his career, the future of afrobeats and other issues

You studied Psychology at the University of Lagos and later earned an MBA. How have those two worlds shaped the way you read and control a crowd today?

Studying Psychology at the University of Lagos taught me how people think, how they react, and, more importantly, how emotion drives behaviour. When I’m deejaying, I’m not just playing songs; I’m reading patterns. I can sense when a crowd is about to peak or when the energy is dropping, and I adjust in real time.

The MBA sharpened the business side, in terms of structure, strategy, and scalability. Now, it’s not just about rocking a crowd; it’s about building an experience, a brand, and a system that can grow beyond me. It’s art and science working together.

What made you leave the corporate path and embrace the uncertainty of the entertainment industry?

There wasn’t one dramatic moment; it was more of a quiet realisation. I remember looking at the corporate path ahead and thinking, this is stable, but it’s not me.

The turning point was when DJing stopped feeling like something I liked and started feeling like something I needed to do. I chose uncertainty because I believed that if I went all in, I could create my own version of stability. That belief has carried me through.

You worked in the club scene in the UK for some time. What did that environment teach you that Nigeria couldn’t at the time?

The UK scene exposed me to structure and discipline at a level I hadn’t seen before—timing, transitions, understanding genres, and respecting the craft. It wasn’t just vibes; it was precision.

At the time, Nigeria had energy, raw talent, and culture, but the systems weren’t as developed. The UK taught me professionalism and global standards. When I returned, I fused that structure with Nigerian energy; and that combination became powerful.

What mistakes do you see young Nigerian DJs making today?

The biggest mistake is treating DJing like a stepping stone instead of a destination. When you see it as a Plan B, you don’t invest in mastering it.

A lot of young DJs chase hype instead of skill. They focus on visibility, not depth. But the crowd always knows the difference. If you don’t understand music, timing, transitions and energy control, you won’t last.

This craft rewards patience and discipline. The ones who respect it always stand out.

When you first entered the Mavin ecosystem, what did you have to unlearn to operate at that level?

When I stepped into Mavin Records, I had to unlearn the idea that being good was enough. At that level, excellence is the baseline.

I had to understand branding, consistency and collaboration at a higher level. I also had to remove ego, because you’re now part of something bigger than yourself. It taught me to think long-term and operate professionally at all times.

What is the hardest phase of your journey that people don’t see?

The hardest phase was when I was putting in the work, but nothing was visible yet. You’re building, grinding, improving, but the world hasn’t caught on.

That phase tests your belief in yourself. There were moments of doubt, when things weren’t moving as fast as I wanted. But that’s where you’re forged. If you survive that phase without losing focus, everything that follows feels earned.

You’ve hinted that Afrobeats may be facing a creative slowdown. What exactly is missing in today’s sound?

I wouldn’t call it a decline. I’d say repetition is becoming comfortable.

What’s missing is risk. Artistes are playing it safe because the formula works. But the culture was built on experimentation—new sounds, new stories, new energy.

For afrobeats to evolve, we need more fearless creators—people willing to push boundaries, even if it doesn’t go viral immediately.

In an industry driven by virality, how do you maintain authenticity without becoming algorithm-dependent?

I understand the algorithm, but I don’t serve it. Authenticity comes from knowing who you are and staying rooted in that.

Trends come and go, but identity lasts. I focus on the crowd in front of me, the experience I’m creating, and the legacy I’m building. If that aligns with the algorithm, great. If it doesn’t, I’m still doing what I believe in, because real always outlives viral.

After the 2026 Grammys, you emphasised the need for Nigerian artistes to engage more with the US music system. What steps should emerging artistes take in that regard?

First, understand that talent alone doesn’t open that door; structure does. The US system runs on relationships, documentation, and consistency.

Get your business right, register with publishing bodies like BMI or ASCAP, and ensure proper splits, metadata, and distribution.

Be physically present or have representation in that market. Collaborate intentionally; not just for clout, but for sound and cultural alignment. Invest in media visibility—press, radio, playlists, and live showcases.

And most importantly, stay consistent. The US rewards sustained presence, not just moments.

You are a voting member of the (Grammy) Recording Academy. What does that process look like?

You need credible credits—released music, production, or songwriting—then apply with references from existing members.

The real issue is awareness. Many Nigerian artistes focus on the spotlight but ignore the system behind it. The Recording Academy isn’t just about the Grammy Awards; it’s an institution with influence. We need more Nigerians inside those rooms.

Do you think afrobeats risks being globally consumed but institutionally underrepresented?

Absolutely, and it’s already happening. The world is consuming afrobeats, but when it comes to decision-making tables and voting power, we’re still underrepresented.

If we don’t step into those institutional spaces, we risk being celebrated without being protected or properly credited. Visibility without structure is dangerous.

You’ve worked with artistes such as Rema and Tiwa Savage. What separates a global-ready artist from a local star?

Artistes like Rema and Tiwa Savage stand out because of discipline and identity. A global artiste knows who they are and can translate that across cultures without losing authenticity.

They also have strong work ethic—rehearsals, branding, vocal training, stage presence, media training—it’s all intentional. And they’re adaptable. They can perform in Lagos, London, or New York and still connect naturally.

Can you share a moment that changed how you view music?

On tour, I once played the same record in three different countries and got completely different reactions. That’s when it clicked: music is universal, but energy is contextual.

I stopped just playing songs and started reading rooms, understanding cultures, and building experiences. That’s the difference between a DJ and a performer.

What role has your family played in keeping you grounded?

Everything. This industry can distort reality—fame, pressure, expectations. Family brings you back to the centre.

They remind you who you are before the lights. They’re not impressed by the noise; they care about the man, the father, the provider, the partner. That balance keeps me grounded.

Where do you see DJing in Nigeria in the next 10 years?

It’s evolving, but we’re still in transition. DJing is no longer just “the guy who plays music”; it’s becoming a respected craft with branding, touring, endorsements, and ownership.

But for it to become a true institution, we need structure, such as unions, standardised fees, training systems, and intellectual property protection.

The next 10 years will separate hobbyists from professionals. And those who treat it as a serious career will define the future.