‘Today’s R&B is like Brazilian football – creativity and skill’: O’Deal, the genre’s most famous British star | R&B

“I’m not looking at a crowd tonight,” O’Dial said hours before his first-ever performance at Brixton Academy in late March. “I look to my people: aunts, uncles, friends, peers and supporters.”

Dressed in comfortable clothes and stretched out on a leather sofa backstage in south London, the British-Nigerian singer looks at ease, as if he is exactly where he expected to be. The 26-year-old has a kind of fame specific to the British R&B scene: the adoration and millions of streams from the genre’s global fanbase, to the point where he’ll soon be playing arenas across the US supporting mega R&B star Summer Walker – though he’s yet to gain much mainstream recognition beyond that.

His music falls loosely within R&B, and also draws on Afrobeats, neo-soul, and contemporary pop. Across his catalog — which culminated in 2025’s sister EPs “The Summer That Saved Me” and “The Fall That Saved Us” — love is rarely decisive. Instead, the songs live in emotional gray areas. But he encourages listeners to rely on their feelings, no matter how conflicting. “If you want to heal, you gotta feel faster,” he sings in one of his most popular songs to date, “Miami.”

Hilary Denis Odanoh was born in Germany, and grew up in Spain, south London and Nigeria when his parents moved for work. He started taking music seriously when he was 13, spending time in the studio after school and selling his PlayStation to buy a laptop. Friends and relationships came in second place. “I have never made a sacrifice except for the benefit of music,” he says. Much of this discipline was inspired by his mother. “She worked three different jobs to take care of me and my siblings: she would wake up before me, sleep after me, and continue to cook.”

In November 2017, he went into septic shock due to malaria, which had been dormant in his body for two years. “I almost couldn’t make it happen,” he says. “That experience changed everything.” He set up his own nightclub Ovmbr, named in reference to the month in which his life was saved. It also provided the title of his debut mixtape of 2020, Ovmbr: Roses, but after its release, it was dropped by his major label. “I was very sure of what I wanted; the label wasn’t the be-all and end-all,” he says, and he has since built an audience on his own terms. In December, he entered into a deal with Sony for publishing management (i.e. songwriting), but remained an independent recording artist. He says that if he had signed with a record label, “a lot of the songs I released probably wouldn’t have been released, or would have faced a lot of opposition. A lot of A&R companies are pushing for hits. Am I losing myself trying to find that?”

The feeling of being disconnected from the industry was underscored at the Brit Awards, where it was conspicuously absent from the R&B category despite being the genre’s leading British act. When I asked him about the snub, he responded diplomatically: “It doesn’t bother me; everyone who was nominated deserves it.” British voters tend to choose major label acts over independent artists, and R&B is often seen as a particular interest in the UK. Does his omission reflect something deeper about how the industry works? He pauses, and gives a knowing smile, the kind that suggests he has a longer answer he chose not to give. “Something like that. But I can never take it personally. I have my own goals. Awards are dope, but I want people in every corner of the world to relate to my music. When people come to the shows, sing the lyrics and it sells out, that’s the award.”

Other collaborators and fans include American stars such as Leon Thomas, Justin Bieber and SZA, and at the Brixton party, there is a multicultural audience spanning all ages. Couples dance intimately, friendship groups shout out their favorite phrases, strangers make friends, and there’s an usher moment during “In the Chair” when O’Dial drags a fan onstage, signaling a venue full of wannabe screamers. Ovmbr, now in its seventh year, has expanded to include festivals including Afro Nation in Portugal and Fête de la musique in Paris, as well as Lagos and South Africa. The photographers, creatives and marketers behind it are drawn largely from Odeal’s own orbit.

He sees this energy and enthusiasm spreading through R&B music globally, and is a characteristic of “football in the days when Brazil was playing – the creativity, the skills, the new tactics, it’s absolutely incredible to watch.” But like many artists, he doesn’t want to be boxed in by the genre label, and claims his music “isn’t that.” [in] Genre – it’s a feeling.” And this is supported in Brixton, where the audience ends up screaming the words louder than Odial. Whether the industry catches up or not, that human connection seems to be enough for now.