This Denver Artist Just Made the Album of the Summer

It was a baptism to remember. The babies were all sons, and all were named Emmanuel. But one boy in particular caught the eye of the reverend. "I can just sense your son is going to be something special," he told the mother. "He's going to change the world. He's going to be a star."

Whether you believe in destiny or not, the reverend's remarks were prescient: There is an undeniable "star" quality about E.M.E. (pronounced like "Emmy"), the 22-year-old artist that child grew to be. You can hear it across his debut album, Foreigner, which melds Afrobeats, hip-hop and R&B elements into an uplifting Afrofusion brew. Each song is imbued with the freeing spirit of summer, with lyrics that underscore E.M.E.'s hope, faith and love of family in his unique journey to becoming a full-fledged musician.

"From the moment my mom told me that story," he says of his baptism, "I just always knew that I'm here to do something. I'm here for more. I'm here to be a leader. And obviously, you feel that as a human being, but it's [about] waking up every day and saying, 'This is my goal. This is what I want to accomplish. I want to spread light into the world.'"

If making the album of the summer was his aim, then E.M.E. hit a bullseye. Foreigner speaks to his experience as an immigrant and finding his identity. "I'm originally from Nigeria," he says. "We came out here when I was seven years old."

As Boko Haram and other militant groups sought to overthrow the equally corrupt Nigerian government in the early 2000s, E.M.E.'s mother was desperate to leave. She sent him and his sister to live with their aunt in Lagos while she sought a visa, and although his father was hesitant, he joined the family in their move to Colorado once she won a visa lottery in 2009. Since then, more than 2 million people have been displaced as a result of the insurgency, and since 2014, more than 1,600 children have been abducted.

E.M.E.'s family stayed with cousins in Aurora until they found an apartment there. Then came the mass shooting at a theater in 2012, and they moved to Montbello, where E.M.E. grew up. "My mom is my rock," he says. "She's the one who holds the family together. I wouldn't be where I am today if wasn't for her. She essentially dropped her whole life to bring her kids to the States so we could have better lives than she did."

So, who better to kick off the album than her? Foreigner opens with a track titled "Mother's Prayer," in which E.M.E.'s mother tells the story of how he came into the world. He almost had died, he was weak, but she knew — just as the reverend did — that he was full of purpose.
"Foreigner means more than being an outsider," E.M.E. notes. "It's about perseverance and overcoming obstacles. It's about embracing all of who you are and bringing together the person you were always meant to be, regardless of where you are right now."

There are not many other African immigrants in the Denver area, E.M.E. says, which caused him to feel isolated growing up. "Coming to America, especially coming out here, it was definitely hard because you didn't necessarily really have anybody to relate to," he explains. "When I went to school, there were no African kids...and I would get pulled out of class to go to my ELA class, which was to be able to speak proper English."

There was also stress in his home life; his father was resentful of moving to the U.S. and blamed E.M.E.'s mother. Foreigner releases these memories, among others, while underscoring the hope and perseverance that made E.M.E. who he is now. "I think this album was me almost letting go of the burden that has been in my heart for the last 22 years," he says.

In songs such as "Lay Down," E.M.E. references his roots by using his native language, that of the Igbo tribe. "I definitely do try to incorporate some of my language," he says, "because at the end of the day, I still want to spread light on my culture any way I can."

It also highlights a unique tightrope he had to walk between assimilating into American society while also holding his heritage close. "When you come to America, you're not asked to learn English, you're forced. You learn the system, you learn the culture. You learn certain lingos that people say. You become too American for the Africans, but you're still too American to be Nigerian," he says.

"I faced an identity crisis coming up as a child and I never talked about it," he continues. "I had some dope mentors around me, but I didn't fit in. I tried to be African without a community, but then I became too American for that community. Then I tried to be Americanized, I tried to change my dialect, but then I'm too African for that community. So I never found a place where I felt comfortable just being myself."

Then he found music. "When I started making music, it was almost the first time where I was like, 'I'm free to be me,'" he says. "It gave me true freedom, a true sense of purpose, a true sense of self."

The confidence flows out of the eighteen tracks on Foreigner. People will be able to hear E.M.E. perform songs from the album live in a show at the Marquis on Friday, June 13, dubbed E.M.E.'s Afrobeat Summer Kickoff. Perhaps the track that encapsulates his journey the most is "Back to Sender," he says: "It's almost me talking about the last 22 years of my life. I almost feel like that song didn't come from me — it came from God."

He wrote parts of it with his mother and sister, crafting a hook in the Igbo language that essentially says, "I'm fine." "It's what you say when someone asks, 'How are you?'" he explains. "Like, no matter what I go through, I'm always going to be fine. It's just freedom, you know? Every time I listen to that song, I cry. It just brings a different part of me out."

E.M.E.'s favorite song on the album, though, is undoubtedly the title track, "Foreigner," in which he sings: “I don’t know if I’m wrong or right, I don’t really care if we’re eye to eye, came back home it ain't feel like home 'cause I’ve been on the road chasing my own life.”

He wrote it while he was visiting Nigeria with his mother and sister last July. "I was so emotional. It's like I almost didn't feel part of them, I almost didn't feel welcome," he recalls. "Because it's like, as a Nigerian, once they hear you go out to the States, they just think you're automatically just living the best life, that your life is so much better. And I understand Nigeria's government and political system is absolutely fucked. People are really struggling. People are trying to find ways out. They almost make it impossible to get a visa. So I'm seeing these people struggle and I can't do anything. ... They think I've already made it. They don't understand I'm still an aspiring artist."

He met his producer, Mic Coats, around 2023. E.M.E. was trying to get his music out, and he found a champion and friend in Coats. "It's crazy how God works," he says. There was a music contest that E.M.E. competed in back in 2022, and while he didn't win, he had impressed the judges. They included DJ KTONE, who put him in touch with Coats. "We just clicked," E.M.E. recalls. "It almost felt like a father figure."

Coats invited E.M.E. to a studio session to lay down a track with Danae Simone, titled "Got Me," and from there, their partnership took off. "We hit the ground running," E.M.E. says, noting he even got to travel to New York to record some songs. After releasing several singles, he began performing at more shows, including opening for Soulja Boy at the Aggie Theatre.

With Foreigner out, now E.M.E. is focused on spreading the love even further. His career is about more than music — he's moved by destiny.

"I'm really trying to push the culture," he says. "I'm trying to show people how to have a good time, let go." At his upcoming show, he wants people to "just come out there and really enjoy yourself. Get the vibe, come and enjoy life while we're living.

"We get such little life to live," he concludes. "I want to create a community, a sense of community, a sense of togetherness. We're all for one, one for all."

E.M.E.'s Afrobeat Summer Kickoff, 8 p.m. Friday, June 13, Marquis Theater, 2009 Larimer Street; tickets are $21-$31.