What It Would Take for an African Album to Be Nominated, or Win, Grammy Album of the Year

Feb 04, 2026

The Grammys didn’t snub Africa.
They simply don’t need it yet.

The 68th Grammy Awards ended the way the Recording Academy prefers to end its nights, familiar names, predictable centres of gravity, and global culture filtered through a narrow, carefully guarded lens of legitimacy.

Kendrick Lamar dominated again.
Bad Bunny made history.
Billie Eilish, Lady Gaga, Tyler, the Creator, all rightful, all expected.

Every year after the Grammy Awards, the same cycle repeats.
Africa dominates global playlists.
African artists sell out arenas.
African music shapes fashion, language, and internet culture.

And yet, when Album of the Year is announced, Africa is nowhere near the room where that decision lives.

This isn’t because African albums aren’t good enough.
It’s because Album of the Year is not an award for sound.

It’s an award for institutional weight.

Album of the Year is not about popularity

Let’s get this out of the way.

Album of the Year is not about streams.
It is not about virality.
It is not about global reach alone.

If it were, Afrobeats would already be impossible to ignore.

The Recording Academy treats Album of the Year as a statement about what defines an era, not what dominates charts.

When Kendrick Lamar wins, it’s not just because the music is excellent.
It’s because his albums are positioned as cultural documents.
They are reviewed, debated, archived, taught, and contextualised.

They arrive with an ecosystem behind them that says, “This matters.”

African albums, by contrast, often arrive as successful releases, not as authoritative works.

That difference is everything.

The Grammys reward authors, not exporters

Here’s the uncomfortable truth.

African music is still framed internationally as export culture.
Enjoyable. Influential. Profitable.
But not authoritative.

Even at its most global, Afrobeats is still often described using words like vibe, sound, wave, movement.

Those are not bad words, but they are not the language of authorship.

Album of the Year rewards artists who are treated as authors of meaning, not just producers of hits.

Taylor Swift wins because her albums are framed as narrative arcs.
Bad Bunny wins because his work is read as a political and cultural intervention, not just club music.
Kendrick wins because his albums are treated like literature.

African albums are rarely positioned this way at a global institutional level.

Not because they lack depth, but because the systems that translate depth into legitimacy are weak or absent.

Global consumption has not become global interpretation

African music is consumed everywhere.
But it is still interpreted elsewhere.

Most global reviews of African albums happen through Western media lenses.
Most Grammy voters encounter African projects through playlists, singles, or category placements, not through sustained critical framing.

Album of the Year contenders usually arrive with:

– Months of critical discourse
– Long-form reviews across major publications
– Think pieces situating the album inside history
– Label-backed narratives about why this album matters now

African albums rarely receive this level of interpretive infrastructure.

They are heard, but not argued for.

And at the Grammys, arguments matter.

Category recognition creates visibility, not power

The introduction of Best African Music Performance is often celebrated as progress.

And it is, to a point.

But category recognition also creates a ceiling.

It subtly communicates where African music is expected to compete, and where it is not.

Once music is neatly placed inside a cultural box, it becomes harder for voters to imagine it as the defining album of the year for everyone.

Latin music faced this same problem in the 1990s.

The difference is that Latin music didn’t stop at recognition.
It built parallel institutions.

Africa hasn’t yet.

Why Bad Bunny could win, and Africa hasn’t

Bad Bunny winning Album of the Year is often framed as a breakthrough for non-English music.

But it wasn’t sudden.

Latin music spent decades building institutional comfort inside the Recording Academy.

By the time Bad Bunny won:

– Latin executives were embedded inside major labels
– Spanish-language albums were reviewed as serious artistic works
– Latin voters existed inside Grammy voting blocs
– The Latin Grammys had already normalised authorship and excellence

So when a Spanish album arrived at Album of the Year level, it didn’t feel foreign.
It felt inevitable.

African music does not yet have this level of institutional familiarity.

Africa exports sound, not decision-making power

This is the core issue.

Africa exports artists.
Africa exports hits.
Africa exports culture.

But Africa does not yet export control.

There are very few African executives inside Grammy voting structures.
Few African-owned publishing entities with global leverage.
Few African-led labels capable of sustaining long-term Grammy campaigns.

Album of the Year campaigns are not organic accidents.
They are deliberate, expensive, strategic.

They involve lobbying, listening sessions, narrative building, and relationship management.

African albums are rarely campaigned this way.

Not because they aren’t worthy, but because the machinery isn’t in place.

Albums versus playlists

Another hard truth.

African music has been optimised for the playlist era.

Singles-first strategies.
Constant output.
High-frequency releases.

This works for streaming dominance.
It does not work for Album of the Year.

The Grammys still privilege the album as a cohesive artistic statement.

Albums that win Album of the Year are usually:

– Carefully sequenced
– Conceptually anchored
– Positioned as bodies of work, not collections of hits

Many African albums are strong, but they are rarely framed, marketed, or defended as definitive statements of an era.

They arrive as successful projects, not as monuments.

Canon is built, not assumed

Album of the Year winners are added to a canon.

That canon is maintained by:

– Critics
– Academics
– Curators
– Industry veterans

African music does not yet have enough globally recognised canon-building institutions.

There are few African-led platforms shaping long-term musical memory at a global level.

Without canon builders, albums struggle to move from moment to legacy.

And legacy is what the Grammys vote for.

So what would actually need to change?

Not vibes.
Not louder complaints.
Not more global streams.

Here’s what would have to happen.

1. African albums must be positioned as arguments

Not just releases.

Albums must arrive with a clear narrative about why they matter culturally, politically, historically.

This requires artists, labels, and media working together to frame albums as statements, not just soundtracks.

2. African executives must enter global decision rooms

Without African voices inside Grammy voting blocs, African albums will always feel external.

This is slow, unglamorous work, but it is necessary.

Power follows presence.

3. African publishing and label infrastructure must consolidate

Fragmented rights and weak publishing systems dilute leverage.

Institutional recognition follows institutional clarity.

4. Album-making must be treated as legacy work

Singles can dominate playlists.
Albums must aim to define eras.

This requires patience, restraint, and long-term thinking.

5. African media must lead interpretation, not react to outcomes

African platforms must set the narrative around African albums before Western institutions do.

Waiting for validation guarantees containment.

The Grammys are not unfair. They are consistent.

This is the part many people don’t want to hear.

The Grammys are not confused about Africa.
They are not ignorant of its impact.

They are simply consistent in how they reward power.

Until African music controls more than sound, until it controls narrative, ownership, and institutions, its place at Album of the Year will remain symbolic at best.

Not excluded.
Just managed.