Asked to mention an oft-repeated male name in Nigerian pop music, any Nigerian would be stumped. But if asked to mention placeholder female names, that tongue-tied silence would make way for a mouthful eloquence. There’s Angelina, Amaka, Caro, Chioma, Folake, Monalisa, Shalewa. Victony adds to that rich inventory a name you aren’t likely to hear […]
Asked to mention an oft-repeated male name in Nigerian pop music, any Nigerian would be stumped. But if asked to mention placeholder female names, that tongue-tied silence would make way for a mouthful eloquence. There’s Angelina, Amaka, Caro, Chioma, Folake, Monalisa, Shalewa. Victony adds to that rich inventory a name you aren’t likely to hear on a Nigerian street — Jolene, which is also the title of a song from his EP, Outlaw, released in May this year.
Just as Lojay’s Monalisa casts one’s mind to The Louvre and the Florentine painter Leonardo da Vinci, so does Victony’s Jolene recall Dolly Parton’s 1973 song of the same name. Given Monalisa’s theme, Lojay certainly didn’t have Leonardo in mind. Did Victony have Parton in mind?
Unlikely. The man, in interviews, has cited his many influences — Backstreet Boys, Drake, Kendrick Lamar, Juice WRLD, Post Malone — none of them Parton. Two other things also make any influence unlikely: One is that country music, which is Parton’s métier, is as present in Nigerian culture as shellfish is in a Jewish diet.
The second reason concerns Victony’s youth — born in the aughts, his musical heroes are likely not from an era before the 90s. But while both musicians couldn’t be any more further apart, each shares the same purpose in their respective Jolene.
Both are at the mercy of and are appealing to a woman named Jolene. Only with Jolene’s blessing can Parton hold on to her lover, and only with Jolene’s allowance can Victony stave off sexual angst. Where they diverge is in the strategy they choose. Parton relies on harmonious guitar flourishes; Victony is aided by an oneiric production and a brilliant use of autotune.
Parton is poetic — “with flaming locks of auburn hair” — while Victony’s diction is basilectal — “Make I lick your kulikuli one time”. Parton is diplomatic and flatters her romantic competitor — “Your voice is soft like summer rain” — while Victony is willing to use state-sanctioned force to get what he wants — “I go call police if you no go gree”. Victony, it seems, cannot escape the Nigerian political sensibility even in a most apolitical song. That one line tells every non-Nigerian all they need to know about the Nigerian police — a public outfit so often converted for private, perverted use.
Who entreats Jolene more effectively? Listen to both songs and judge for yourself:
