US EditionBeyoncé, The Lion King: The Gift, review – All hail the lion queen
4/5
Neil McCormick has been chief music critic for the Telegraph since 1995. His interviews have ranged from such rock legends as Paul McCartney, Elton John and Keith Richards to superstars Adele, Ed Sheeran and Lady Gaga. He can be contacted on X @neil_mccormick or Instagram @mccormick.neil.
Neil McCormick has been chief music critic for the Telegraph since 1995. His interviews have ranged from such rock legends as Paul McCartney, Elton John and Keith Richards to superstars Adele, Ed Sheeran and Lady Gaga. He can be contacted on X @neil_mccormick or Instagram @mccormick.neil.
“You got my blood in you and you’re gonna rise,” Beyoncé sings on Bigger. It is the opening song of a surprise new album that offers a glimpse of one of pop’s most intriguing possible futures: the global rise of new Afrobeats.
The Gift is a quixotic compilation of tracks curated by the US superstar and marketed alongside Disney’sLion Kingremake, and is described by Beyoncé as a “a love letter to Africa.” Alongside Beyoncé herself, an A-list of black American hip hop artists (Kendrick Lamar, Childish Gambino, Pharrell and Beyoncé’s husband Jay Z) have lent their talents, collaborating with an impressive cast of singers, rappers and producers from Nigeria, Cameroon, Ghana and South Africa.
Artists including Nigeria’s Tekno and Wizkid, Ghana’s Shatta Wale and South Africa’s Moonchild Sanelly are already making impressions outside of local markets; the endorsement of a star of the magnitude of Beyoncé could just be the tipping point. Because one of the things that comes across most impressively in this afro-futurist mix of hip hop and R’n’B is that it all sounds fresh and exciting but not remotely alien or intimidating. These are musical fires already burning in the underbrush of western pop – they just need something to ignite them.
The Gift is not the soundtrack to the remake of the Lion King. There is no Circle of Life or Hakuna Matata, and no sign of Elton John among the many participants. Nevertheless, it uses snatches of film dialogue to create a narrative structure, expanding 14 songs to a 27-track concept album. Beyoncé has described it as “sonic cinema” which gives the listener a chance to imagine their own imagery “while listening to a new contemporary interpretation”.
Beyoncé voices the character Nala in the remake and has contributed one song, Spirit, that features on both the official soundtrack and her spin-off. Spirit is very much in the soaring Broadway-goes-to-the- Serengeti-tourist-office style of the original musical, with gospel emoting, syrupy strings and flavours of African chanting and percussion. Overall, though, The Gift is something much more appealingly eccentric and of-the-moment, with an urgent message of its own.
On the swaggering Mood 4 Eva, Jay Z proclaims his love of late afrobeat pioneer Fela Kuti and drops references to such African heroes as Nelson Mandela and 14th-century Malian emperor Mansa Musa. In response, Beyoncé raps that she is Queen Sheba and Yoruba goddess Oshun, before Childish Gambino (aka Donald Glover, who voices the adult Simba in the film) sings of dancing with his ancestors.
On the outro of sensuous ballad Otherside, Beyoncé confidently sings verses in the Yoruba dialect, her always scintillating vocals weaving impressively with African singers. On My Power, she raps about “kinfolk” and “skinfolk” alongside South African gqom poet and singer Busiswa. On Brown Skin Girl, she conjures a witty dancehall-flavoured anthem featuring Wizkid, the Nigerian singer who has already made international inroads as co-writer and singer on Drake’s ubiquitous 2016 hit One Dance.
In this interconnected age, it is astonishing that Africa (a continent with a population of over a billion) has yet to produce a global pop superstar. But signs that this is about to change can be heard all around. The new Afrobeats sound (as distinct from the seventies high-life afrobeat funk of Fela Kuti) is a club-based, colourful electronic and autotuned blend of West African rhythms and American hip hop, with Caribbean dancehall and soca inflections – it originated in Lagos and is spreading throughout the continent and, indeed, the world. Some of the most winning tracks on Beyoncé’s album only feature Nigerian artists, including the afrorap Don’t Jealous Me (with Tekno, Yemi Alade and Mr Eazi) and the slinky afropop Ja Ara E (featuring Burna Boy).
Beyoncé’s gift is to put all of this on the stereos and in the headphones of fans who may not be actively investigating world music genres but will respond to US superstars strutting their stuff over such giddily infectious beats.
I suspect some listeners (like me) may want to skip the 13 linking soundbites of Disney dialogue and draw a veil over the syrupy monarchical fairy-tale narrative.
Yet it is evident that the original Nineties Lion King was culturally important to a generation of African Americans, responding to themes of family, roots and legacy in an African setting. Its empowering impact might be akin to the way African superhero movie Black Panther has been received by a new generation. Kendrick Lamar curated an influential afrofuturist soundtrack to Black Panther, featuring a few of the same artists. He pops up here on slippery hip-hop groove Nile, unable to resist making the venerable pun “I’m in the Nile, deep in denial.”
But it is Beyoncé who (as is her habit) steals the show, declaring that she has Africa’s great river running through her body. “Darker the berry, sweeter the fruit,” she regally pronounces, and who would dare argue? With The Gift, Beyonce has repurposed The Lion King to send her own powerful messages. All hail the lion queen.
