There’s a certain calm that surrounds Tim Lyre, evident in the tenderness he offers to loss, to chaos, to whatever season life throws his way. And yet, that calm never slips into passivity. If anything, it’s sharp, emotive, genuine and vulnerable.
For years, he has been quietly shaping the texture of Nigeria’s alté scene not just as a singer or producer, but as someone who lets his music evoke emotions. You hear it in the emotional honesty of his debut album “Worry<”, and again in the bold, self-affirming energy of “Masta.” With “Spiral,” his latest body of work, he serves up a full range of emotions, from resilience to grief, joy and even stillness.
Outside the booth, he’s part of the alté collective Chop Life Crew and signed to British-South African label Outer South. He has worked with some of the most forward-thinking acts across Africa and the UK— including Tay Iwar, BOJ, Show Dem Camp, Binta, Manana, TxC.
Born and raised in Lagos, Lyre’s earliest encounters with music happened around the house and in church, where Gospel, Highlife, and the soft percussion of Afrobeats made up the soundscape. Later, R&B and Rap widened his world. He picked what felt true and left the rest. “Life isn’t just one mood,” he said in an interview with iMullar. “So why should music be?”
You believe him because his music holds that duality. “Spiral” is proof. A double-sided body of work, it stretches through sixteen tracks with features from Show Dem Camp, BOJ, Joshua Baraka, BINA, and more. Each voice orbits Tim’s own like different reflections of the same mirror. He explores heartbreak, frustration, lightness, confusion and several themes. Sometimes individually, other times, all at once. It’s a lot, but it doesn’t feel oversaturated.
When he first chose the name Lyre, it was more than a stage tag. Originating from a memory tucked away from his university days in Reading, where a promoter told him he reminded him of a lyrebird—a creature known for its ability to imitate any sound. “I found that funny, but also really fitting,” he once said. It wasn’t just a coincidence. Tim would go on to become that bird. Able to shapeshift, yet never lose his voice. No matter the tempo, his music never forgets where it’s coming from.
Indeed, the years haven’t softened his purpose. If anything, they’ve clarified it. Tim Lyre is not chasing perfection nor creating music for algorithm praise or crowd approval. What he’s building is a space for people to breathe, to move, to recognize themselves in the work. And even as more eyes turn his way, he’s careful not to let that shift the center. “Don’t always follow the crowd,” he said. “Be yourself and don’t apologise for it.”
It’s a stance that feels increasingly rare, especially when the industry demands clean boxes and mainstream shine. But Lyre’s music doesn’t sit in one box. It sprawls. It stumbles. It grows. And even when he spirals, he spirals with intention. “I didn’t know if I was spiralling up or down,” he said of the album, “I just knew I had to be honest.”
There’s also something about how grounded he is in his process. Despite the genre-bending, the psychedelic flair, the cosmic themes, Tim Lyre stays human, making music that helps you navigate life without pretending it’s easy. And that’s really what ties all of Tim Lyre’s work together: a commitment to feeling, to honesty. Now, with “Spiral” marking a new chapter, one that feels braver, messier, but still deeply him, Tim Lyre continues to do what he’s always done. Let the music carry its weight and the message land softly.
