From Afropop Prodigy to Antihero: How HEIS Changed Everything

Cover image credit: Yuriy Baranov

HEIS, Rema’s sophomore album, turns one today. A year on, what sounded like a left turn from the Afropop sweetness that introduced us has become a defining pivot in his career, a turning point that silenced doubt, crushed the Afropop status quo, and introduced the world to a different kind of star.

With over 250 million Spotify streams, a sold-out arena tour, and a Grammy nod to its name, hindsight has been pretty kind. But the real impact of HEIS lies in what it represents: an artist refusing to be a prisoner of his own success.

Rema could’ve played it safe. He could have easily coasted on the success of “Calm Down” and the sound that made him a global phenomenon. Instead, he doubled down on reinvention, orchestrating a complete rebirth of his artistry. It was a high-stakes gamble, but one that has since become the most rewarding decision of his six-year career.

“We are listening to the voices of the world too much… Afrobeats for what it is, is very important.”
— Rema, Mehdi Maïzi interview

To him, HEIS was more than a sonic experiment; it was a reclaiming of the genre’s grit, its edge, its spiritual weight.

That intention bleeds from the very first track. “MARCH AM” channeling a new, heavier form of Afrobeats. “I don’t think there’s anything in Afrobeats right now that makes me wanna drive fast,” he told Kids Take Over. So he made something that did. 

It’s that same hunger that also fuels “AZAMAN,” “HEHEHE,” “WAR MACHINE,” and “VILLAIN.” These are songs that are confident and confrontational. “HEHEHE” is particularly pointed: “No more big three, there’s now a big four. People go para, but what for?” That’s a statement aimed squarely at the power struggle in every music convo, especially in Afrobeats. A redrawing of power lines in the hierarchy was inevitable.

But the transformation was symbolic as much as it was sonic.

Rema hasn’t had it easy. Since bursting onto the scene as a 19-year-old, he’s faced doubt, scrutiny, and the pressure of carrying an entire genre on his back. The soft-spoken teen with teddy bear aesthetics had to evolve into a war-hardened prophet of sound. He embraced a new archetype entirely—no longer just the poster boy for global Afropop, but the antihero of it

“The game just made me colder and colder. I came with a loving heart. Sometimes, you just wanna give back that energy.”
— Rema, The Breakfast Club 2024.

Tracks like “OZEBA,” “WAR MACHINE” with ODUMODUBLVCK, and “EGUNGUN” continue this arc and best encapsulate the HEIS story. They are self-mythologizing, spiritual, and cinematic songs with verses that build Rema’s universe track by track.

And in the final track, “NOW I KNOW,” Rema ushers in a piercing moment of vulnerability. There, he reflects on fame, grief, ambition, and the emotional toll that even success can’t erase. It feels like closure — not just for the album, but for an era. A moment of vulnerability that reframes everything that came before it.

As a deeply self-aware and intentional artist, which Rema has proven to be since his career took off, HEIS (meaning “the one” in Greek) was a conscious and symbolic detour that separated him from the expectations of fans, critics, and the industry. A breaking of the mold. A refusal to be confined by what he should sound or look like.