Poor Ziggy Marley, poor Femi Kuti. The two chosen sons of the world music industry spent their youth dutifully catering to the expectations bequeathed to them by their fathers, superstars from the 1970s named Bob and Fela, respectively. (Maybe you’ve heard of them.) But then along comes meddlesome younger siblings (Damien and Seun, respectively) with knacks for making the old postcolonial protest song feel new and important again. “Me, step into my fathers shoes? Why? I would rather build my own shoes,” Fela’s prodigal son told Nigeria’s Daily Sun, and therein lies the difference. Passed over by the family tree, the husky baritone is less interested then honoring his father’s shrine, than outmatching Dad’s restless, self-important attitude. Music: so often the propriety of black sheep.

The other difference is violence—vivid, harrowing violence. Like Damian’s Jamrock, Seun’s Think Africa doesn’t shy away from the visceral, violent undertones that got fuzzed out of Afro-beat and roots reggae when the world music comps got pressed. Seun’s tunes are simmering rants in pidgin English about police brutality, malnutrition, oil politics, and all the plastic crap Americans companies pump into the Nigerian marketplace. (i.e., “Don’t Give That S— to Me.”)  Get past the DNA, and his voice owes more to Buju Banton’s rapid-fire dancehall roar than his father’s shamanistic yelp. And his vocabulary? Peppered with swears, bent with impotent rage—just like dad’s. Black sheep: so often the spitting image of the father.