I am born in one place, spend half of grade school in another, attend the other half in a third country. I go to high school in a fourth city. I am forever the superminority. As much as I hate the cliché, it’s true — I am too “this” for “that” and too “that” for “this.” But in Wizkid’s music, I’m given the choice to not make a choice. “My music travel no visa” he declares confidently on Superstar. His world is one not of binaries but of bonds between Africa, the United States, the United Kingdom, and the Caribbean. And though he was not raised in the diaspora, it feels like he makes music exclusively for us: the lost and confused trying to find ourselves in clunky hyphens and numerical ordering, struggling to determine if our culture is first generation, second, or even third. He is not the first to tell me who I am, but he is the first I believe.