New Music on the Radar – APR 21 2025

Clark Keeng ft. Zawadi Mukami & Chris Barr – “Table”

Some songs feel like memories in sonic form. Table, a melancholic yet hopeful R&B ballad by Clark Keeng featuring Zawadi Mukami and Chris Barr, conjures the intimacy of love lost but not entirely let go. The title object — a table — is the emotional anchor around which the song revolves, not just physically, but metaphorically as the place where love once gathered and may still return. The opening verse, handled with emotional sobriety by Clark Keeng, paints the picture of a man confronting his ghosts after a night out: “Late night coming from a rendezvous and the first thing I see on my table is your picture.” It’s not just nostalgia; it’s a confession — he misses her and can no longer lie to himself.

Chris Barr brings a complementary energy to the track with a melodic rap cadence that explores post-breakup emptiness. He doesn’t just mourn the lost connection — he feels alienated in the world, admitting “Feeling so lost, nobody looking for me,” and later adding, “used to be my saviour, now you’re just a stranger.” Zawadi Mukami closes with a poetic verse that elevates the metaphor of the table, turning it into a dining space filled with emotional nutrients — food, drinks, and eventually, silence. Her plea — “serve me with silence, deny me when it’s obvious” — is both powerful and relatable, climaxing in her introspective decision to bridge the gap with vulnerability: “and if my table is the only way to you, I’ll try to get through.”

Produced by Clark Keeng himself, the song carries his signature sonic identity: atmospheric synths, soft rock guitar sprinkles, high-pitched organ-like keyboard layers, and 808s that provide a soft trap pulse without overpowering the emotion. It’s subtle yet rich, serving as the perfect backdrop for such a layered vocal performance. The unison chorus — “we could always meet at the table, it was the sign of our love” — cements the track’s core message: reconciliation might be possible, even if just metaphorically.

Culturally, Table deepens Clark Keeng’s growing influence within Nairobi’s alt-R&B and neo-soul movement. As an artist steadily defining what the new wave of Kenyan sound feels like, this collaboration signals a maturing scene — one where emotional complexity and sonic craftsmanship go hand in hand. The song’s relatable themes and genre-blending appeal make it suitable for radio, road trips, and intimate moments alike. In a landscape often dominated by fleeting trends, Table offers timelessness — a ballad for those who still believe in meeting halfway.

Exray Taniua ft. Boutross – “Body”

Exray Taniua and Boutross link up to deliver a full-bodied gengetone-dancehall banger, where club energy and political commentary exist in the same breath. The chorus, “Body like you, body fine like heaven,” is the song’s backbone — seductive and repetitive, designed to stick. But don’t let the groove fool you: Exray kicks off his verse with unexpected heat, taking direct aim at Kasmuel McOure, recently appointed ODM youth leader, whom he accuses of betraying the Gen Z tax protest movement with the cutting line, “siwezi kuwa Judas mi sio Kasmuel.” From there, he shifts to the familiar terrain of party life, describing a late-night rendezvous with a love interest in a villa — a classic gengetone cocktail of pleasure and provocation.

Boutross slides into his verse with numerical finesse, weaving clever metaphors around the object of his affection. “Waist 26–28 I assume,” he says, before doubling down — literally — on her physical allure: “unaingianga gym juu hiyo nyash times two.” He lands with a tongue-in-cheek nod to maturity in the Kenyan dating discourse: “napendanga ID ikuwe above 20-something,” a self-aware line that pays homage to Jimwat’s classic cautionary tale  in Under 18, subtly suggesting the genre has grown up, even if the setting is still wild.

The production is textbook gengetone-meets-dancehall, with punchy 808s, skippy drum patterns, and a dynamic keyboard line that keeps the momentum feverish — perfect for the club or a house party with Nairobi’s inner circle. The instrumental doesn’t try to do too much; it simply makes room for the verses to dance. Boutross, known for his transformation from the Shrap era into a more commercial artist, sounds at home here. Exray, still riding the wave from his Boondocks Gang breakout, proves his staying power with consistent output and undeniable charisma.

Flier – “Siwezi Kukuweka”

Siwezi Kukuweka is heartbreak dressed in silk — a breakup anthem that moves not with rage but with grace, even as it tears at emotional seams. Flier, a producer-vocalist whose sound is an evolving blend of soft rock, lo-fi, and Afro-inspired alternative music, takes a bold sonic turn in this track, revisiting the soul of 60s East African rhumba. The result is a slow, guitar-led ballad wrapped in nostalgia but driven by a very contemporary emotional palette. The production is deliberate: delicate layers of guitar lines mingle with a soft, modern keyboard pad that smooths out the edges, while Flier’s signature trap 808s subtly anchor the track in today’s musical language. Extended instrumental breaks nod to the zilizopendwa traditions of Daudi Kabaka and Les Wanyika — a cultural inheritance not just sonically, but in how the song carries emotional depth through rhythm and restraint.

But where old rhumba songs like Stella Wangu began with backstories and slow builds, Flier flips the script. From the very first line — “utasare hizo keys kwa mlango hapo down na mawatchie” — the rupture is clear, sharp, and unapologetic. This is not a song that wants to reminisce sweetly; it’s one that confronts. In the second line, “Mimi na we hatuna bizz, tangu ulidecide me ni potty,” we see both the pain and the streetwise diction that defines Flier’s lyrical style — a modern Nairobi patois that makes his storytelling raw and immediate. The pre-chorus offers a moment of vulnerability: “kama unajua tu wewe kwa kupenda nili-try, kila siku nilikubembeleza mpenzi hukunidai”, a line that drips with the kind of quiet sadness that lovers bottle up long after the keys are returned.

The titular chorus, “Mimi siwezi kukuweka penye hudai,” is an introspective one,inviting the listener to think about dignity, about choosing self-respect over unreciprocated affection. And Flier doesn’t let up in the second verse either — he pushes deeper into his disillusionment with the line, “utasare everything niliwai buy,” stripping both material and emotional investments away. By the third verse, which serves as the bridge, Flier opens up about the psychological toll with raw similes like, “ulinichanganya ka selector,” giving catharsis not only to himself but to anyone who’s ever loved too hard, too blindly.

The brilliance of Siwezi Kukuweka lies not just in its songwriting or production, but in its setting. It’s a song that can sit comfortably in a personal playlist, a mellow radio show, or even a family gathering. It’s clean yet emotionally mature, merging the language of younger generations with a soundscape older audiences can appreciate.Culturally, this track signals an important fusion in Kenyan music: the return to classic sounds not as novelty but as a foundation for contemporary storytelling. Flier doesn’t just sample nostalgia — he reanimates it. Siwezi Kukuweka invites a new wave of artists to embrace their musical heritage without sacrificing modern relevance

Sanaipei Tande – Chum Chum

Sanaipei’s Chum Chum is a flirty, feel-good pop-bongo hybrid that celebrates the magic of a good kiss — not just as an intimate act, but as a full-body, music-like sensation. With this release off her Fourty and Four-Tune EP, the Kenyan legend proves that age is just a number and that sensuality, vocal power, and musical relevance can evolve gracefully.The song opens with the earworm line “Oh boy you got me, got me so good” — a confident, poppy declaration that sets the playful tone. The chorus quickly builds on this energy, with Sanaipei cheekily requesting “nipee moja hadharani” — a line advocating for PDA with a grown-woman charm and agency. Unlike shy or suggestive love songs, Chum Chum is bold, bright, and direct.

In the first verse, the persona offers step-by-step instructions for the perfect seduction — “mkono kiunoni, invite me closer, babe hold me” — conjuring up a vivid moment of intimacy that feels both tender and electric. Her mention of neck kisses and being pinned to a wall intensifies the picture, delivered in a way that’s sultry without being explicit — a skill Sanaipei has honed over decades in music.The pre-chorus takes a moment to marvel: “alikufunza we ni nani?” she asks, before playfully admitting, “kwake yeye mi ni fan, kaniwachia superman.” It’s a witty shout-out to the person who trained her partner so well — and it adds a relatable layer of humor to the infatuation.The second verse gets a little clever. Lines like “mdundo kifuani” and “kavu kinywani” are rich with double entendre, blurring the line between physical chemistry and musical rhythm. Sanaipei plays on the idea that both music and kissing can leave you breathless, chest-pounding, and thirsty — and she makes that comparison feel natural, not gimmicky.

Ilhaji’s work is a polished blend of nostalgic bongo and modern Afro-pop. The beat carries light trap 808s rolling in rapid bursts, accented with African shakers that give the synth melody an upbeat, dancefloor-ready feel. The vocal layering — one of Sanaipei’s signature strengths — shines here, giving the chorus a lush, full sound without overpowering the clean minimalism of the verses. And the synth claps and shout-style hooks ensure this jam can comfortably sit on club playlists as well as casual listening rotations.Chum Chum is a versatile banger: it’ll light up a girls’ night out, slide easily into radio rotation, and fit seamlessly into personal playlists that crave a balance of grown-up sultry and youthful fun.More than anything, Chum Chum is a reminder: Sanaipei is not just still here — she’s still setting the bar. With wit, warmth, and undeniable vocal charm, she gives us a song that kisses your ears and gets your body moving.

New Music on the Radar – APR 21 25 Written by Otieno Arudo