Snowchild Edge Ignites Afro-Fusion With Bold New EP ‘No Wahala’ And Single “Big Problem”
Afro-Fusion artist Snowchild Edge is redefining the sound of the West Coast with the release of his stunning new EP *No Wahala* and its lead single “Big Problem,” out now on 100 Collective Records. An ambitious project bursting with diasporic energy, soul-bearing lyrics, and global production, *No Wahala* marks a fearless new chapter for the Nigerian-Canadian artist.
“Big Problem” hits with undeniable urgency — a rhythmic eruption that’s equal parts swagger and soul. “I get e very big problem//E get how we go solve em, Kilode for the funds that I’m wanting //You know say money na the anthem,” Snowchild Edge declares, setting the tone for a project that confronts real-life stress with head-nodding, body-moving beats. The track balances vulnerability with vitality, inviting listeners to feel deeply and dance freely.
The No Wahala EP spans six songs, each channeling a different emotion and sonic landscape. From the slow-burning “Bonnie & Clyde” to the kinetic, inspired “Wine Down,” to the breezy escapism of “Wine Down,” and the healing affirmation track “Searching,” to the bouncy playfulness of “Go” and the futuristic energetic anthem that is “Big Problem” the EP is a journey through hardship, joy, self-discovery, and cultural pride. Ultimately, Snowchild Edge creates a world that he calls home.
“This project means a lot to me, it’s a piece of home, a place I carry with me. It reminds me of where I come from and keeps me grounded, no matter how far I go.”
Behind the scenes, a formidable creative team brought *No Wahala* to life. Production credits include Hila Boi, Ramoon, Rellik Beats, MasonsPayback, and Kira, while engineering duties were handled by Austin (Deus) Glabus-MacLeod, and Teon Gibbs. The EP was mixed by Matt Di Pomponio and Austin Glabus-MacLeod, and mastered by Greg Mindorff, ensuring sonic richness across every track.
Snowchild Edge collaborated with a dynamic mix of co-writers, including Teon Gibbs and Angel Akabuno, who also appear on the project. At the core of it all is Snowchild Edge who penned the lyrics and helped steer the emotional narrative of the EP. Each contributor has brought a layer of intention, resulting in a record that feels both deeply personal and globally resonant.
Snowchild Edge’s musical foundation is rooted in Afrobeat and Alt Hip-Hop, but his sound is far from predictable. By fusing traditional African rhythms with futuristic production and a storyteller’s sensitivity, he creates a space where listeners from all backgrounds can find something to hold onto.
The music video for “Big Problem” further elevates the experience, shot in Vancouver’s urban core. Visually arresting and emotionally raw, it’s a visual translation of the song’s call for resilience and reckoning.
“I made this for anyone who’s been told to stay quiet when they needed to speak loud,” says Snowchild Edge.
*No Wahala* is a bold assertion of identity, place, and purpose. With early attention from industry tastemakers and a growing digital following across platforms like Soundcloud, TikTok, and Spotify, Snowchild Edge is stepping onto the world stage with fire and finesse.
Hi Edge! Good to meet you! Care to introduce yourself to the readers for those not familiar with your music?
Hey! I’m Snowchild Edge, a genre-blending artist born in Nigeria and based in Canada. My sound lives at the crossroads of Afrobeats, alt-hip-hop, and alt-R&B, but I also tend to experiment with sound. Rooted in the rhythms I grew up with and shaped by the global influences I’ve absorbed along the way. I make music for myself first and foremost. It’s my outlet. And then for anyone finding their voice, and for people who carry home with them wherever they go. Every song I make is a conversation—sometimes with my past, sometimes with the world, and sometimes just with myself.
You describe No Wahala as a piece of home. What specific memory or moment from your life shaped the emotional heartbeat of the EP?
I wouldn’t say No Wahala is a direct retelling of home, but it absolutely reminds me of it. I always go back to this moment—sitting in the back seat during long drives through Abuja as a kid, windows down, the sun setting, and the radio playing Rick Dees and the Weekly Top 40. That feeling of warmth, movement, and possibility—it stuck with me. It’s what I was chasing when I made this project.
At the same time, I think about my younger self in Nigeria—just a kid with big dreams and a love for music. I genuinely believe if he heard No Wahala, he’d think it was the coolest thing ever. That image guided me creatively. The EP is rooted in those memories, but it also speaks to the tension of leaving that world behind and trying to rebuild something meaningful in a new place. It’s home, reimagined.
The EP blends Afrobeat, alt-hip-hop, and global influences. Who are some of the unexpected artists or genres that inspired your sound on this project?
I’d say some of the unexpected influences on No Wahala came from artists like Jorja Smith and Travis Scott. Back in my college years, I listened to Travis a lot—not necessarily for the sound, but for the freedom in how he creates. That sense of creative fearlessness really stuck with me. I tried to channel that same spirit through someone like Cruel Santino, who’s also been a big inspiration. Even if our sounds are different, I connect deeply with artists who build their own worlds—and that’s what I wanted to do with this EP.
You collaborated with some impressive producers and writers—what is something you learned from one of them that changed your creative approach?
Working with Teon Gibbs—who has mastered his sound both lyrically and sonically—really shifted my creative approach. He pushed me to stop second-guessing myself and trust my instincts. He reminded me that magic often lives in raw ideas. Not only did we collaborate on a track, but he also helped with writing and arrangements across a few songs, and that input elevated the project.
There was also a standout moment working with Angel Akabuno. She’s an incredibly gifted writer. I’d explain what I was trying to express emotionally or thematically—especially when blending English and Yoruba—and she’d somehow capture it perfectly. Her ability to guide those translations and still keep the essence intact was vital to the soul of No Wahala. I truly believe it’s what gave it its Edge, no pun intended.
And then my engineers, Austin (Deus) Glabus-MacLeod and Matt Di Pomponio—man, they just got it. I’d describe how I wanted my vocals to feel, and they’d execute the sound with precision. They helped create the immersive world I was envisioning, down to the smallest sonic detail. Finally, having Greg Mindorff master the entire project was the cherry on top. He’s a master of his craft, and working with someone of his caliber brought the final touch of cohesion the EP needed.
You said the EP is for anyone who was told to stay quiet—what moment made you realize your voice needed to be heard, no matter what?
For me, it’s less about being told to stay quiet in a literal sense—and more about people doubting your abilities or trying to put you in a box. I’ve had so many people project their own limitations onto me—trying to define who I am or dictate what I’m capable of based on their beliefs. I actually had someone I was close to tell me I would never be good at music, and I should forget about it. This was in 2016, I will never forget the day. But I’ve never been someone who just accepts that. I naturally push back. If there isn’t a lane for me, I’ll create one.
Saying the EP is for anyone who’s been told to stay quiet was really about inspiring others. If I can break out of those expectations and build something true to myself, then so can they. There’s a quote my mother always says, “Do they have two heads?” and if you know, you know. It’s that reminder that no one is above you. You can do whatever you set your mind to.