This article originally appeared in Hypebeast Magazine Issue 35: The Wavelength Issue.

Pa Salieu FaceTimes me from the back of a black car, weaving through London streets on a late January afternoon. He’s wrapping up last-minute errands because in roughly 24 hours, the musician will board an 8-hour flight to Gambia, where he spent a large chunk of his youth. The trip looms large for Salieu. It’s a milestone, an interlude, and a hero’s homecoming all at once.

Nearly seven years ago, Pa Salieu got embroiled in legal troubles that still haven’t fully waned. It’s a traumatic, complicated story, one he’s discussed in interviews at length, but is essential to understanding the British-Gambian MC’s circuitous path towards stardom—and the roadblocks that nearly robbed him of greatness.

In 2018, Salieu’s best friend Fidel Glasgow was fatally stabbed outside a bar in their UK hometown, Coventry. Salieu and others pursued one of the perpetrators of the attack, and Salieu hit the man with a branch and broke a bottle in an act of self-defense.

Over the four years that followed, Salieu experienced success and additional tragedy in equal measure: He was shot in the head in a separate incident, released his breakout single “Frontline” and debut mixtape Send Them to Coventry, and won BBC’s “Sound of 2021” award. He was becoming one of the UK’s most exciting rappers to watch, with a reputation for smoothly spitting over diverse production ranging from two-step and UK drill, to Afrobeats and more. He was even the subject of a documentary that followed him to Gambia, his first visit since childhood, as he performed in front of 30,000 people. Things were looking up.

Just a few months later, however, Pa was sentenced to 33 months in jail for his role in the retaliation that followed Glasgow’s murder. His pulsing career came to an abrupt halt, the carpet pulled out from under him by the institutional Powers That Be.

In late 2024, Salieu was released from prison after serving just under two years. Though it sounds apocryphal, he went straight to the studio, prison issues in tow, and recorded the mixtape Afrikan Alien for Warner Records UK. The release was a triumphant, fully-realized comeback that delved deeper into his Gambian roots sonically, while lyrically explored his incarceration and feelings of being an outsider—an alien—in the UK. As he noted on the standout “YGF” (or, “Young Great and Free”): “I’ve never seen myself for a while, appalling/Dealing with death had me moving brazy/Dealing with the trial really had me faded.” He followed the mixtape with “King Steps,” a massive single produced by Disclosure, accompanied by a striking music video widely regarded as one of the year’s best.

But as Salieu notes while speeding around London traffic, “I’m not fully free… Since I started making music, I have not been free.” He means this in a legal sense, quickly clarifying that he learned how to feel liberty from an emotional and spiritual perspective while locked up, regardless of his physical setting. In other words, he’s still on probation, and as a result, can only visit Gambia for a week. Still, he intends to get the most out of the trip, squeezing three weeks’ worth of experiences into one. That includes visiting his family’s home to eat superkanja, a Gambian okra stew that is his all-time favorite, and performing in front of 25,000 people— reaffirming his status as one of the most prominent African artists making moves today.

During his jail stint, Salieu says he wrote eight notebooks’ worth of lyrics, approximately 300 songs. He also began penning an autobiography, drafted a biopic script, and incubated designs for an upcoming clothing brand inspired by the aesthetics of prison called OTSS, or “Only the Strong Survive.” He intends to drop the label’s initial collection before the end of 2025, which will coincide with the release of his debut full-length album.

Salieu is counting his blessings while also staying hungry as hell. Despite the setbacks and government-imposed restrictions, he expresses unflinching gratitude and optimism. “I just came out of jail, and guess what’s happening this year? I hear some planets are aligning. You know why? Because I’m outside.”

How did you spend the holidays this year? Did you have any New Year’s resolutions?

My celebration has been more about reflection. I missed a lot of New Year’s Eves and Christmases—two of each. I feel like I just came out the Tardis, on my Dr. Who time traveling vibe. So I’ve just been reflecting: What have I learned from jail? What have I learned in the last two years? I’m working on changing myself. I’m also working on my first proper album, so I’m putting my whole heart into it right now. That’s what I want to get done this year. It’ll be out after October.

I know you filled at least eight notebooks full of lyrics, approximately 300 songs, while incarcerated. Are you using any pre-written songs for the new record, or will it be all new material?

It’ll have some of the pre-recorded songs. The studio, the booth, can be a form of stress relief. So all through being on bail, all through everything, I’ve just been writing and recording for me. I make music because I want to make music—nothing else. Now it’s become a lot of material. I’m trying to go for an ‘80s kind of sound with my record, so there’s a lot to choose from.

Are there any particular inspiration points from the ‘80s?

Synths and soul stuff. I’ll say Steve Monite. A lot of old African tunes influenced me. People like Papa Wemba, an old-school Congolese artist. If you don’t know him, you’re gonna get to know him, and you’re going to fall in love! I also fell in love with Johnny Cash in jail—songs like “Highway Man” and “A Boy Called Sue.” I wrote a full list, which includes old-school Sene-Gambian artists like Omar Pène, Youssou N’Dour, and Adama Seca. There are a lot of inspiration points, and I’m combining them all into one.

Can you tell me about your taste when it comes to production and picking beats?

I don’t believe in genre. My genre, if I had one, would be “Freedom of Sound.” When people are like, “What’s your favorite album?” I don’t know because I come from the Spotify era. I have the freedom to go from this tune to another tune to the next tune—from this sound to that sound. I think it’s part of my generation; not having a genre. I’m just taking in the time I’m in, which is “Freedom of Sound.” I’m spiritually free, so my music reflects that.

You’re performing for over 25,000 people in Gambia on January 18th. Your last visit was in 2021, but so much has happened since then — jail, the release of African Alien, this massive single with Disclosure. What are you expecting the response to be from the audience this time?

I just expect vibes. I realized during my first show in London after jail that when I put my shades on, I become something else on stage. The nerves go, and I see no crowd. I just hear vibes. I’m an introvert and if it wasn’t for jail, I swear I wouldn’t be so comfortable with performing the way I can perform now. In jail, you’re forced to accept yourself. You’re forced to look at yourself and love yourself because you’re alone. I’ve realized it’s done a lot for me. And what you can expect from me this year is just sick—level up, level up.

Are there places you’re going to visit on this trip that you haven’t been to before?

I’m walking with lions, one million percent [laughs]. There’s one girl I know from Gambia whose granddad was an old-school artist named Demba Conta. She’s setting up a meet-up with local artists. I did a similar pop-up and Q&A thing in Nigeria, with everyone speaking their minds, talking music, and discussing what more could be done to help the people of Africa. It will be wholesome and very intimate. I want to stay in Gambia for more than a week, but I can’t because I’m not fully free. I will make it feel like I’m there for longer—get three weeks’ worth of experiences and vibes in one week.

When you say you’re not free, you mean probation, correct? When does that end?

Yeah. It ends in September. First time in my life I can actually get a passport! I’ll be traveling more as soon as probation ends. Bye! I can’t wait to have full freedom. Since I started music, I have not been fully free. When I released my single “Frontline,” I was on bail. It’s been nearly four years since my legal troubles started. I went to jail, I came out, I’m now on bail. I’m lucky they’re letting me go to Gambia before probation ends because it’s for work, but it’s still not on my own code. So I can’t wait till September. It’s my time to actually be free.

Your artist statement for Afrikan Alien mentions that part of the mixtape responds to political corruption in Africa, the UK, and elsewhere. For those unfamiliar, what is corruption like in Gambia right now?

Corruption is leaders claiming to give funds to help the people, but then they give the minimum and leave the rest for themselves. A lot of things aren’t the way they should be. Right now, my generation is suffering and Gen Z makes up something like 70% of Africa now. Our voice is very important. We are the future, bro. The kids of Africa will be traveling around the world and people need to understand that this is very serious and very deep.

After my song “Frontline” came out, they named a road in Gambia after it. So I’m just saying influence is deep and we’re not going to live for a very long time. We’re humans, it’s just the way it is. So you have to ask yourself, “What are we leaving there? What kind of consciousness are we leaving?” Talking about all these subjects is very, very important. Like female genital mutilation, bro, I don’t stand for that! But I know my voice, if I speak about it, it will push something. We have to speak about certain things, especially politics, not inter-politics. I think music can be more powerful than politics.

I know you’re starting a clothing brand called Only the Strong Survive, and that it was inspired by your time in solitary. How does that translate aesthetically?

OTSS! It is similar to how I describe my music. No genre! Freedom of Sound. So I describe OTSS as “Freedom of Choice.” When I was in jail, inmates wore a lot of dry-fit material, like Under Armor. So I’m just preeing the way people are wearing things. Obviously, there are “prison issues” as well, which are just gray shirts, gray bottoms. After six months, you can get a parcel with your clothes. I was seeing what kind of clothes people were wearing once they had that choice, and if they did get clothes they were always Under Armor.

So I’m in my cell, two days into solitary, and I have nothing to do. I asked for five pieces of paper. I started looking at everything in the cell. There were dents in the door from the previous inmate. He set fire to the cell, too, so there were little burn marks on the door. The burn, the dent, everything else—I said, “Oh shit, that looks like a sick design. That would be sick for a shirt, or part of the bottoms for trackies.” Then I started looking at the cell door, the lights. I’ve never seen windows like this outside prison. So I started using everything I saw in the cell as inspiration. I was drawing everything because I ain’t got no phone, no camera. Then I reconstructed it to what I want OTSS to look like. There will be six or seven different looks.

Is this going to be an ongoing project? Do you want to do annual releases or is it just going to be this initial six-style drop?

I’m an impatient person, but when it comes to ideas, I’ve got ADHD. I want to do this, then I’ll do that, then I’ll do that. I wouldn’t finish anything because I wanted to do everything, but I gained a lot of patience in jail. So now I’ve learned to take my time with things. 70-80% of the visualization and conception of OTSS was done in jail. I didn’t know how to design before jail. I just had a notebook, which I filled with a lot of designs, lyrics, movie scripts, and an autobiography [laughs].

So now it’s about having patience and working with what I’ve got. I have so much material, bro. I have so much creativity and intent. That’s all I need. It just makes me see everything straight. It makes it even more real to me. I’m trusting the process.

It sounds like you’ve taken these roadblocks and turned them into strengths. Whether it’s ADHD or the system holding you down, you convert it and make it part of your armor.

I realize no one can hold me down no more and it was all just an illusion. It’s only me that can hold myself down. When it affects me, I stop. And when I stop, my blessings stop.

What other fashion trends or brands or designers excite you right now?

Remember, I just stepped out of a time capsule. I was looking at my bro’s shoes the other day and I was like, “Shit, where did you get those from?” He said the model came out in 2023. Ah… I was not around in 2023. So everything I’m seeing since I was released from jail has been inspiring. Even going to Africa and seeing people integrate, like locals showing each other their designs. I look at fashion like music, the Freedom of Sound idea I’d mentioned earlier. It’s the same with fashion: Freedom of Choice. If it looks alive, I’ll wear it and make it even more alive.

Will there be any particular collaborators on the new album you can tell me about?

Life’s always connected me naturally with people on the same wavelength. Definitely Backroad Gee. And this is my brother KG from Nottingham [points to friend in the car]. He’ll be on the album. This is going to be a family vibe. Everyone is on a common wavelength. Our whole hearts go into this because we understand the whole intention. It has to be straight blessings and good energy.

What’s your favorite food to eat when you’re back in Gambia?

Superkanja! That’s okra stew. You know the lyrics from my song “Ya Zee”: Break Magi in my superkanja (ya zee!)/I’m in the back smoking super ganja (ya zee). Ya! Ya! Ya! It’s true.

Where’s the best place to get superkanja in Gambia?

My grandma’s house. God rest her soul. Her eldest daughter is the woman of the house now. But she lost her eyesight while I was in jail. So she’s blind now, but she’s got the kids and everyone is looking after each other. I can’t wait to go to her house and all eat together, some superkanja and break magi. I won’t smoke super ganja though, because it’s my family house. They don’t do that. They don’t even touch alcohol.

Last question: Do you believe in astrology?

Astrology? Me, believe in astrology?! Listen, you see, my tribe is called the Serer tribe. We used to read the stars before the alphabet. Swear to God, bro. Before telescopes, we used to read the stars. That’s one of the main things that’s known about my tribe. I’m a Cancerious! That’s the word I like to use when I say my sign; I don’t like the word cancer. So, Cancerious, yes!

Do you believe in “Saturn return”? You’re 27 and about to enter that phase. It’s a big period of growth, evolution, and setting up your future.

Yes. I’m literally evolving every day. And guess what? I just came out of jail, and guess what’s happening this year? I hear some planets are aligning; they’re aligning with the fifth planet. You know why? Because I am outside. The scientists won’t say this, but they’re aligning because I’m here.