Knucks – ‘A Fine African Man’ review: a diaspora griot watering his roots

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Knucks. Photo credit: Press

As the ogene rings and the waves crash, Knucks lets it be known from the start: “I’ve been telling myself / Before anything else, I’m an African man”. It’s a line that sets the tone for his second album ‘A Fine African Man’ – a declaration, a homecoming, and a manifesto all at once. He’s always been a storyteller whose London upbringing shaped his flow, but Nigerian heritage pulses quietly beneath every bar. Now reaching his thirties, the rapper-producer wanted to make something for his culture, translating his roots into something universal that can move as easily through Lagos streets as it will the London boroughs.

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‘A Fine African Man’ positions Knucks as a modern diasporic griot: chronicler, celebrant, and translator for both insiders and those just being invited in. Despite being born in northwest London, this record is bigger than just UK rap with its wider story of African identity, exploring boyhood, manhood, and diaspora through cinematic swagger and intimate reflection. The opening track, ‘Masquerade’, is a beautiful example: with his parents adding flourishes like the ogene chimes and the calling of Knucks’ real name Afamefuna – meaning “My name will not be forgotten” – the intro is an ethereal ritualistic call, gathering everyone like they would back home before someone told a tale of great importance.

Throughout ‘A Fine African Man’, Knucks’ verses move with the rhythm of spoken poetry – like diary entries, all lived-in and unfiltered. But the album’s most tender moment comes on ‘Yam Porridge’, where he recalls his younger self, alone at a Nigerian boarding school, finding home in the solace of a dinner lady who made the best bowl around. Tiwa Savage’s voice drifts in sweetly (“Anything you want, I’m here / Full confidence, no fear”), providing the blissful warmth of motherly comfort. ‘Yam Porridge’ is the clearest evidence that Knucks is one of this generation’s sharpest storytellers – real rap doesn’t need to be lyrically complex or super conceptual: sometimes, simple words work too.

Although this album is a new sonic exploration for Knucks, you can still catch glimpses of the foundation he made for himself. Since his 2014 debut mixtape ‘Killmatic’, Knucks has always favoured groove and rhythm, perfecting the balance between mood and meaning – making the ordinary feel cinematic. On ‘A Fine African Man’, that instinct has matured beautifully. ‘Are You Okay?’ is full of neo-Afrofusion sultriness, all bass warmth and glossy keys, but with depth beneath its glow. ‘Pure Water’ calls back to the sombre drill production that first built his legend, embodying the relentless grind that defines Knucks: always moving with purpose, chasing something real.

All this is done with great Nigerian pride, manifested through bravado. ‘No Shaking’ sees Knucks link up with Phyno, trading bars in their mother tongue over a warping grimetrap-like beat that fuses London grit with Lagos swagger. Then there’s ‘Nkita’ with UK trap disruptor Fimiguerrerro – an aggressive, braggadocious track about being top dog that adds some bite to the mostly mellow record. By the time we get to songs like the chirpy amapiano-style ‘Container’ and the groovy ‘Palm Wine’, it’s a full-blown celebration stretching into the far-flung corners of the diaspora.

‘A Fine African Man’ shines as a vibrant depiction of Igbo culture through the eyes of someone both belonging and (once) an outsider. Using love, struggle, and growth as his colour palette, Knucks paints from memory and discovery alike. If ‘Alpha Place’ reflected London, here, Knucks turns his mirror toward Nigeria, watering his roots through sounds and customs from his motherland. No longer the boy from Kilburn, Knucks stands tall as a fine African man whose talent will never be forgotten.