Beneath the voice and beyond the music, Luwanni is, at heart, a hardworking and jovial soul. For him, hard work isn’t just a trait—it’s a way of life, a key factor that drives everything he does, especially in his journey as an artist.
Luwanni’s path to taking music seriously wasn’t sparked by chance, it was forged in the corridors of university life. While studying at Obafemi Awolowo University, a pivotal shift occurred when he moved off-campus and crossed paths with rapper Blaqbonez. Before then, music had always been an interest, something he explored on FL Studio, recording on his laptop, fumbling through the fog of uncertainty. But meeting Blaqbonez gave that passion purpose. Watching someone actively build a music career was the push he needed to take that first real step, following him to studio sessions, soaking in the energy and dedication. It was no longer just a dream. It was now a direction.
Music had always been part of his world, from the electrifying aura of Michael Jackson to the vocal brilliance of Mariah Carey and Destiny’s Child. But the real turning point, the album that challenged him to elevate his sound, was Burna Boy’s Outside. “That album was gold,” Luwanni says with admiration. “Even to this day, I still think that album is gold. Burna is the blueprint—we all know that.”
If you’ve ever listened to Luwanni’s music, you’ll know his sound isn’t ordinary. It’s raw, intentional, and genre-fluid. This wasn’t accidental. His sonic identity was the result of a deliberate process, one born out of collaboration and experimentation. About three years ago, he and his manager, Kyrian, who he credits with having excellent taste and deep musical knowledge, sat down to design a sound that was truly his. They knew it wouldn’t come easily.
To sharpen his skills and push boundaries, Luwanni challenged himself to a 62-day streak, recording and releasing new music every single day. No repeated melodies, no recycled rhymes. Just growth. “It’s just like fitness,” he says. “You grow stronger. You build new muscles.” That rigorous process helped refine his sound and creativity, turning trials into a breakthrough.
One track that stands out to him is Nobody Loves You, a deeply personal record born out of a fallout with a close friend. It wasn’t just music—it was therapy. “It was a reality check,” he admits. “At the end of the day, it’s just you. People might try to help, but no one will love you the way you love yourself.” He walked into the studio and simply let his emotions spill into the mic.
When it comes to creating, Luwanni doesn’t believe in leading with lyrics. For him, the vibe comes first. “If you write first, you’re dictating the direction,” he explains. “But the sound should lead you.” That’s how he creates something unique—by allowing the beat to take him somewhere unexpected. “Along the way, you’ll say something that sticks, and that’s when the writing starts.”
He also knows when to let go. “My arrangement of music is weird,” he says. “When it feels right, then it’s right.” He doesn’t force structure or over-produce. Once the song resonates with him, he calls it done—unless his A&R has feedback that warrants a tweak.
Luwanni isn’t just about self-expression; he believes in collaboration, especially with fellow rising artists. His recent link-up with Fimi was rooted in mutual respect and organic connection. “We’ve known each other for a while, not super close, but always in the loop,” he says. Wanting to work more with emerging acts, he reached out to her via WhatsApp, sent over the beat and chorus, and asked her to do her thing. The result was magic.
While he hasn’t turned down any collaborations outright, he’s intentional about who he works with. “Sometimes, the energy just doesn’t match,” he says. “So I check out your sound to see if we align.”
Luwanni doesn’t see himself as just another artist. He sees himself as a saviour of Afrobeats. “There’s a lot of watered-down content out there,” he observes. “Burna is a blueprint. Wizkid and Davido too. They’ve created depth. I want to be a blueprint, too.” For him, music should mean something—it should transcend mere vibes. His mission is to offer more.
And while the industry loves labels—alté, indie—Luwanni doesn’t feel confined by them. He creates for the love of it. “Whoever can relate to it, good. Whoever can’t—there are other sounds out there.” He’s versatile, too. Take his recent track, 5:30, a Yoruba-style song that even his fans were surprised to learn was his. “I have a wide range,” he says with a grin.
On days when inspiration runs dry, Luwanni doesn’t force it. “I just go play Call of Duty or something,” he shrugs. “When you try to force creativity, it never turns out right. If I can’t get it in five takes, I skip the session.” His process is all about authenticity—about letting the music flow, not chasing it.