One-Listen Review: Estate Shuttle!, Tsuni’s “Play!” EP

Alternative singer Tsuni’s debut EP, gbọ, wasn’t released in February to extensive acclaim. But it was still a strong enough offering that it came across our radar. In our mini-review/recommendation, Culture Custodian commented on her versatility, applauding standout jazzy Afropop number, different, among other songs on the project. “Tsuni is one to watch in 2026,” the final sentence of that entry stated. As it turns out, that was an astute prediction, but just not in the manner many would have expected. 

On Wednesday, 2 September, 2026, Tsuni and the producer duo, Estate Shuttle!, consisting of Mofoluwasho Dada and Temitayo ‘TMT’ Ayorinde—whom you might know from Culture Custodian’s Submaroach podcast—put out the duo’s first project, Play!. Encountering the project’s release announcement, there were so many questions. Who releases an EP on Wednesday? Why would you proclaim Tyler the Creator’s Yonkers to be the second sickest debut music video of all time? (It’s not. We love Tyler but his cockroach-chomping self didn’t move the streets like MI in that Crowd Mentality vid). Having taken care to ensure the music didn’t play while their promotional Instagram video ran, it wasn’t hard to wonder what the music sounded like. But then again, when did TMT learn music production? Questions and more questions that only hitting play on Play! could answer.

In typical one-listen fashion, there were no skips, rewinds, fast-forwards, or pauses. Certain reactions have been edited for appropriate language. All opinions expressed are those of the writer as parsed in real time. 

Vector and Goodgirl LA gave us Early Momo. Estate Shuttle! and Tsuni presents the anglicised version, Early Morning. If you’ve never imagined what alternative bossanova sounds like, Tsuni makes sure to keep your mind focused on that fact, asking if we the listeners have ever heard ‘Afrobeats Bossanova.’ Well, we have—Asake on ỌBA—but that’s besides the point. The track is light at its core, urgent in its messaging (“I dey dream with my eyes wide open. I dey bring in a vibe I know”) but not particularly heading anywhere. Tsuni wields free reign vocally, setting the tone for what the rest of the project just might sound like. If this is so, some dynamism would be welcome later on, as would way less echoes, even as it hearkens to Alté fusion’s glory days. 

Overseas reminds us that we can’t quite escape Afro-House, not that anyone is complaining, though. Tsuni’s voice sounds almost more distinctive, singing to her partner about traveling overseas to make money, praying for safety and against temptations. Think Darey Art Alade’s Pray For Me, written from the perspective of one half of a couple in the japa generation. In the second half, Musta4a reworks the London Bridge nursery rhyme rather wittily. Heck, the entirety of his verse is witty. You can hear this song soundtracking an ambitious Nollywood romcom about a long distance relationship. And those “Chop paraga (banana?), move your body” ad-libs? Sumptuous, sumptuous additions. It’s like Major Lazer and late 2010s Sarz had a baby through chords, with the final moment of birth being that sly electric guitar swish in the closing seconds. 

In a flex of versatility, the project segues into full romance territory by the third track. But as with most recent love boos, it’s set in this space of doubt and a constant need for reassurance. “Am I someone you know or someone you want to know?” Tsuni asks in Letting Go, like a character from a Tomi Adeyemo-written Lagos situationship story. A melisma on the chorus—because this is still the year of the worldless melodies—as she harmonises “No more letting go” with background vocals is at odds with the staggered delivery at the beginning of the second verse. It’s unsettling. And it would take hearing highlife guitar strumming amidst the song’s disco-pop instrumentation to return to a state of acceptance with the record. Proof that  artistic choices, while mostly defensible, often come off as unnecessary flourishes to already stable records. But yes, we’re Letting Go. 

What’s more unrewarding than a loose outro? A penultimate track on an EP that starts out dynamic but mellows out. On Dress it!, Tsuni latches onto moody chords with a Messi/messy rhyme couplet, like Kanye, J.Cole, and many other artists have done. There’s a distinct Nigerianness to the song’s indie-pop alignment, but even as it broaches the subject of reassurance, drones of “We can dress it, dress it” end up grating. Piano chords couldn’t ease the experiential decline. Neither could other production tweaks. There’s a recording at the end, a lady asking her partner why he didn’t pick her calls, that’s one of the year’s better inclusions of a voicemail. But even then, the EP desperately calls for a conclusion.

That arrived satisfactorily in Hallelu!, a track that had so much to live up to by virtue of its title’s adjacence to Masterkraft and Bella Shmurda’s masterpiece. Tsuni sounds almost like Niniola on the first few lines, heightened as the reverb blends into background vocals stretched all over the place. Barely midway through and Hallelu! lives up to its celebratory title. Tsuni is all hopeful in the face of sapa. She even threatens to chase the spirit of want away with a cane. Ajebutter 22, ever the Scribe of Lagos living, preaches a portion of the hustler creed: “First na to lodge when I hammer with my gees.” Trumpets, synths, and a violin or two come together in a cascade. For most first listens, it’s difficult to tell what projects’ outros should sound like. Here, even before the song settles, it sounds just about right, sequentially. 

Play! is an intriguing exercise in the art of the summer EP: a tape in the mold of lighthearted, slightly avant garde short projects like Boj and Ajebutter 22’s Make E No Cause Fight series that embed common themes in cheeky deep cuts. There’s a japa tale tucked in here. As is commentary on Nigerian relationships in the age of the anxious romantics. The EP is rough around the edges, lacking dynamism despite the production tricks of TMT and Mofoluwasho, but it’s a passable crudeness, all the same. Most intriguingly, the biggest questions this writer comes away with at the end of Play! are of utility: How would the EP—and Tsuni, especially—sound live? And how much would it cost an indie Nollywood producer to license Overseas? In a world where Lady Donli and The Lagos Panic exist, so also does this trio braving ‘Afrobeats bossanova’ deserve a place.