The Cavemen – Cavy in the City
There exists a photograph from 1958 that every serious student of African music should know: a young Fela Anikulapo Kuti, just off the boat in Liverpool, trumpet case in hand, about to enrol at the Trinity College of Music in London. That journey, from Lagos to London, from tradition to transformation, created Afrobeat. Now, 67 years later, brothers Kingsley Okorie and Benjamin James are making the reverse pilgrimage, and the music they bring back could be just as revolutionary.
“Cavy in the City”, the third studio album from The Cavemen, is not just a highlife record. It is a manifesto for what we call Londonswing: that alchemical fusion now unfolding where Nigerian highlife, British production aesthetics, and diaspora rap converge into something that sounds like the future remembering its past. Released on 31 October via RCA Records (note the major label backing; this is no longer underground), the 13-track project positions The Cavemen not merely as revivalists but as architects of a new cultural exchange between Africa’s most populous nation and Europe’s most African city.
The London district of Peckham, affectionately known as “Little Lagos”, has more than 178,000 Nigerians. It is a place where Yoruba and Igbo flow as easily as English, where West African shops colour the streets, and where the smell of jollof rice wafts from every second restaurant. It is here, in the spiritual overlap between two cities separated by 5,000 kilometres but connected by colonial history, migration patterns, and now increasingly by aux cables and Logic Pro sessions, that Londonswing is born.
The Cavemen, Kingsley on bass and Benjamin on drums, emerged in 2020 with their Headies Award-winning debut “Roots”. They reintroduced highlife to a generation raised on the more contemporary textures of Afrobeats, and did so without compromising the original sound. While their first two albums (“Roots” and “Love and Highlife” from 2021) positioned them as custodians of Nigeria’s golden-era guitar music, “Cavy in the City” looks outward without losing sight of home.
The sepia-toned album cover speaks volumes: Kingsley sits regally on a carved wooden chair while Benjamin stands as a sentinel under an arch. It is more than a beautiful photo; it is a visual metaphor for what the album represents. Royalty meets modernity, tradition meets metropolis, Lagos meets London.
But what makes this album more than just another “Afrobeats goes global” story is the inclusion of British indie soul producer Jack Peñate as co-producer. They also enlisted British-Gambian rapper Pa Salieu for “Gatekeepers”, a track that spectacularly bridges West Africa and the United Kingdom. And in a move that announces their ambitions, they secured Beninese icon Angélique Kidjo, five-time Grammy winner and Africa’s reigning musical royalty, for the second track on the album.
This is not appropriation or dilution. This is reciprocity. This is the diaspora closing the circle.
Let’s pause to define terms. Londonswing is not simply “Afrobeats made in London”. That is Afroswing, perfected years ago by J Hus. Londonswing is what happens when Nigerian artists, at the height of their traditional powers, actively collaborate with the British scene, when the music industry consciously builds from Lagos and uses London as an amplifier rather than a tastemaker. The difference lies in the direction of energy: not Lagos trying to reach London, but Lagos inviting London to participate.
The connection between the United Kingdom and Nigeria runs deep. Fela studied in London; the legendary Ghanaian band Osibisa formed in 1960s London. But 2025 marks a turning point. Afrobeats now has dedicated Grammy categories, Billboard charts, and artists like Burna Boy selling out 80,000-capacity stadiums in London. The infrastructure is in place. The audience is ready. The money flows. And The Cavemen, with their traditionalist credentials and RCA’s resources, are poised to claim new territory.
“Cavy in the City” opens with authority, not apologies. Across 13 tracks, the brothers deploy the full highlife arsenal: groovy basslines, live horns, soulful harmonies, and rich percussion, all captured with contemporary fidelity. This is crucial: The Cavemen have not traded their analogue warmth for digital sheen. Instead, they found producers who understand that highlife’s magic lies in the pocket, the millisecond swing between bass and talking drum that moves bodies involuntarily.
“Keep On Moving” hits on track two, and it is a bold statement of intent. Hiring Angélique Kidjo, the queen of African music, a woman who has collaborated with everyone from Carlos Santana to Alicia Keys, could have been a vanity project. Instead, it is a masterclass in intergenerational dialogue. The swing is infectious, the layered vocals a cascade celebrating what highlife has always done best: making joy feel like wisdom.
Listen closely, and you hear echoes of Chief Stephen Osita Osadebe, the highlife titan whose guitar work defined an era. Osadebe was one of the giants of highlife’s golden age, and The Cavemen carry his influence proudly. Kidjo’s voice, an instrument that has carried African music to global stages for four decades, blends seamlessly with the brothers’ harmonies. It should come as no surprise: Kidjo has recently worked with everyone from Burna Boy to Yemi Alade, demonstrating her understanding that Afrobeats represents the next phase of African pop. Yet hearing her over The Cavemen’s set groove feels like passing a torch and having it immediately returned, a conversation between generations that enriches both.
It is a masterstroke to have the queen of African music sing on the second track. The swing and layered vocals, a tribute to an artist like Chief Stephen Osita Osadebe, show the sources of The Cavemen’s inspiration. What a delightful track this is.
“Dancing Shoes” does exactly what the title promises. That guitar ostinato, persistent, hypnotic, utterly irresistible, could wake the dead from their graves. This is highlife’s superpower distilled to its essence: a riff so simple it feels ancient, so perfectly placed it feels like a discovery. The Cavemen understand that sometimes complexity is unnecessary; inevitability is required. The rhythm does not invite you to dance; it assumes you already are. That unmistakable, irresistible rhythmic ostinato in the guitar rouses a person from a coma.
“General”, co-produced by Jack Peñate, provides the clearest window into the Londonswing methodology. Here, Peñate’s indie soul sensibilities (he honed his craft alongside Kate Nash and Adele in mid-2000s London) merge with Kingsley’s insistent basslines and Benjamin’s polyrhythmic drumming. The lyrics signify kingship, ‘I’m the king, I’m the chief, I’m the champion,’ over what sounds like leadership, resilience, and purpose. It is a two-minute manifesto that could power both a Lagos street parade and a Peckham soundsystem, and that is precisely the point.
“Paddling” pulls back from the album’s hypermodern sheen for something deeply personal: a gospel-inspired tribute to the brothers’ mother. Their mother, now a bishop, filled their youth club with gospel music, and here that influence surfaces not as nostalgia but as foundation. The vocals, which have impressed throughout the album with their warmth and precision, reach another level here. There is something almost sacred in how the harmonies interlock, how the brothers’ voices find each other in that space where blood harmony meets spiritual conviction.
On an album so assured in its modernity, ‘Paddling’ reminds us that innovation does not require abandoning what raised you. In ‘Paddling’, the brothers honour their mother with a gospel track that makes no concessions and demonstrates the quality of the vocals. It is moving in ways that overwhelm, a moment of genuine vulnerability on a record that otherwise moves with confidence. A beautiful moment on this sonically modern album.
And then there is “Gatekeepers”, featuring Pa Salieu. This is it. This is the track. If you are looking for the moment when Londonswing announces itself not just as viable but essential, it is here. Pa Salieu, born in Slough, raised in Gambia, based in Coventry, won the BBC Sound of 2021 award and pioneered a style merging Afrobeats, grime, and UK drill in a way no one had done before. His dark-toned style draws from everything from Tupac to Vybz Kartel, sharpened by his near-death experience surviving a gunshot to the head in 2019.
On “Gatekeepers”, Salieu’s delivery is distinct; his flow rides The Cavemen’s groove with a swing that should not work yet feels utterly inevitable. The layered vocals that have built across the album reach their peak here, creating a textual bed that allows Salieu to weave between menace and invitation, between Lagos’ life-affirming optimism and London’s street grit. The track speaks of freedom, resilience, and the courage to challenge norms, and you can hear it: these are two musical cultures that do not clash but converse, finding the space where highlife’s eternal swing and UK rap’s angular attack create something neither could achieve alone.
To put it in context: Little Simz’s “Point and Kill” with Obongjayar, an Afrobeat-inspired collaboration filmed in Lagos, announced that Nigerian-British artists were ready to claim both sides of their identity. “Gatekeepers” takes that blueprint and perfects it. The absolute highlight of the album is undoubtedly “Gatekeepers”, the collaboration with the biggest upcoming Londonswing star, Pa Salieu. Again, the layered vocals, Salieu’s delivery in an unmatched swing, make this, alongside Little Simz’s “Lion” with Obongjayar, the peak of this new style, Londonswing.
Alongside “Lion”, this track represents the cutting edge of Londonswing, the moment when the genre moves from potential to kinetic, from theory to practice. This is the sound that will be heard on every London street corner in five years.
“Onwunwa Celestine” closes the album. As the 13th track, its placement suggests intentionality, a final statement on this journey through modern African life, its love stories, its chaos, its laughter, and its yearning. The brothers keep the precise meanings close to the chest, but the track feels like coming home after a long journey, a circle closed.
The production credits reveal a strategic approach: Kingsley Okorie, Benjamin James, and Jack Peñate work in tandem, no hierarchy but partnership. This is not a Nigerian band bringing in a British producer for status; it is a ground-up collaboration. Peñate, who spent a decade between albums mastering the art of production and recording, brings technical precision without imposing alien aesthetics.
The result? Hyper-modern clarity that somehow enhances highlife’s essential warmth rather than obscuring it. Highlife reinvented for the modern ear: deeply rooted in African storytelling yet dressed in contemporary polish. It is joyful, nostalgic, and unmistakably The Cavemen, with a production value that stands alongside any major 2025 release.
Crucially, the album preserves what makes The Cavemen special: their live instrumentation, their chemistry as brothers who were teammates before bandmates, and their commitment to singing in Igbo despite not being fluent. They do not filter the lyrics; it comes as it comes, authentic and raw. Peñate’s contribution sits in the spaces in between, the way the horns bloom in the mix, how the percussion relates to the bass, the subtle reverbs placing you simultaneously in a Lagos compound and a London studio.
The production never draws attention to itself, but on good speakers, you hear layer upon layer: the vocal harmonies defining tracks like “Keep On Moving” and “Gatekeepers” get room to breathe, cascade, and reveal their complexity. It is production that serves rather than dominates, and that is exactly how it should be.
Let’s be clear about what is happening here. The African diaspora, especially in London, has driven Afrobeats’ global rise. While streaming is unaffordable for many in Nigeria due to economic realities, the diaspora can afford subscriptions. This creates a feedback loop where commercial success flows back to Lagos while cultural cachet comes out. The diaspora listens, streams, attends concerts, and buys merchandise. They are the financial engine behind the cultural movement.
But “Cavy in the City” reverses the script. Where many African artists drift from their roots chasing global markets, TikTok trends, and playlist placements, The Cavemen take another path. They honour heritage while embracing modernity, valuing craftsmanship over virality, believing African music can be culturally specific and universally appealing. They do not chase London’s approval; they invite London to join in what Lagos has been perfecting for 70 years.
Little Simz, Nigerian-British and one of London’s biggest stars, put it perfectly in a recent interview: she was Nigerian before it was cool to be Nigerian. As she grows older and learns more about herself and her origins, she wants to keep exploring that. There is magic in, she said, coming from royalty. That sentiment, diaspora pride meeting homeland authenticity, pulses through every groove on “Cavy in the City”.
The Cavemen themselves have been explicit about their mission in interviews: there is currently a generation embracing a different kind of culture. Nigeria’s youth want to know about their past. As a colonised country, that is difficult. You cannot ask your parents because they are traumatised by what they experienced. So there are many questions. If you do not know your history, you do not know where you came from. And if you do not know where you came from, how do you know where you are going?
Collaborations with Kidjo, Pa Salieu, and Peñate are not random; they are strategic moves in a broader campaign to show that highlife belongs in the same conversation as Afrobeats, UK drill, and everything in between. By placing Africa’s musical royalty (Kidjo) alongside emerging diaspora stars from the UK (Pa Salieu) on the same record, The Cavemen draw a line from highlife’s golden age to its future. This is intergenerational, cross-border, and ultimately timeless.
“Cavy in the City” follows The Cavemen’s acclaimed albums “Roots” (2020) and “Love and Highlife” (2021), plus the collaborative project “No Love in Lagos” with Show Dem Camp and Nsikak David. Each album expanded their sonic palette while retaining their highlife core. But this third studio album feels like graduation. It consolidates their status as not just revivalists but innovators, artists pushing highlife forward while honouring tradition. This is the album where they leave training and enter the ring.
Context matters: In 2025, Nigerian artists generate millions monthly on Spotify alone. Wizkid earns $1 million per month, Burna Boy $782,000, Tems $660,000. Afrobeats has dedicated Grammy, VMA, and American Music Awards categories. Burna Boy sells out 80,000-capacity stadiums in London. Wizkid completed a three-day residency at the O2 Arena. The infrastructure exists for African music to flourish globally without compromising its essence. The money is there. The audience is there. The attention is there.
Where The Cavemen bet with “Cavy in the City” is that highlife, the original Nigerian pop music, the genre that preceded and influenced Afrobeats, deserves its place in this new ecosystem. By involving contributors like Kidjo, Pa Salieu, and Peñate, they do not dilute highlife but demonstrate its flexibility, its capacity to speak across borders and generations without losing its accent. Highlife can evolve without selling its soul.
The album precedes their tour starting on 27 April 2025, across the US and Canada. Fourteen concerts, including Philadelphia, New York, Chicago, Montreal, and Toronto. This is not a ceremonial heritage tour for white-haired hipsters to relive their youth. This is a major label act with ambitions to fill venues and move numbers. They target the young generation, the diaspora, and anyone sensing something new happening.
“Cavy in the City” is that rare thing: an album that honours tradition while actively constructing the future. It is a love letter to heritage, a testament to craftsmanship, and a declaration that Africa’s oldest rhythms still have the power to move the world. And that last point is literal: play this album and try to stay still. You cannot.
Do they reinvent the wheel? No, that is not the task. Highlife already invented the wheel; The Cavemen show it still rolls, still carries weight, still gets you where you need to be. What is new is the Londonswing framework: the conscious, industry-supported collaboration between Lagos originators and London amplifiers, creating music that feels at home in both cities and excludes no one in between.
The production is impeccable without being sterile. The collaborations feel organic rather than strategic. From Angélique Kidjo’s power move on track two to the emotional vulnerability of “Paddling” to the absolute triumph of “Gatekeepers”, the album moves with the confidence of artists who know exactly what they are doing. And crucially, over 13 tracks, The Cavemen never lose their identity. Kingsley’s groovy basslines and Benjamin’s precise drumming remain the brothers’ painting with sound, as they have since their church days as children.
Small caveats? Maybe. With 13 tracks, there might be moments where the album could sharpen its focus. And while the Pa Salieu collaboration is exciting, you might wonder if the album could push further into experimental territory. But these are observations from someone seeking imperfection in a project that otherwise accomplishes precisely what it sets out to do. If your worst crime is occasionally giving too much, you are doing something right.
Is “Cavy in the City” a masterpiece? Ask me in five years when we can measure its influence, when we see how many artists follow The Cavemen through the door they just opened. What I can tell you now: this is essential listening for anyone interested in the direction of African music. The Cavemen prove that authenticity is the new modern, that you can honour your grandparents’ music while building something that resonates with your children, that Lagos and London do not compete but collaborate.
In an era when genre boundaries dissolve faster than we can define them, The Cavemen offer something radical: clarity of purpose. They know who they are. They know where they come from. And with “Cavy in the City”, they show us where they—and we—can go next.
Londonswing is not coming. It is here. And with “Gatekeepers” standing proudly alongside Little Simz and Obongjayar’s “Lion” as defining moments of the genre, The Cavemen have just laid the blueprint for what comes next. The future sounds like the past, but better produced and with more passports involved. And that is exactly how it should be. (9/10) (RCA)
