One-Listen Review: activ.boizzz, YKB’s NVR LZY III EP

Amid allegations of switching up his style and deliberately withholding music from fans, afro-pop singer YKB has returned with a 4-track EP, NVR LZY III, under his “active.boizzz” alias. Like Wizkid’s Soundman Vol. 1, generations of Hip-Hop producers, and most notably Madlib’s many side projects, this is a subversion, if not an extreme one. We can deal with those technicalities later. For now, the focus is on the music. 

YKB’s last offering, YUSFUL MUSIC (RELOADED), was released to a fair deal of acclaim back in February 2024. A slew of singles and feature appearances since then, including standouts like OMOBANKE and No Be Kai Kai with Mojo, haven’t been enough to sustain mentions in online music discourse.  Outside of music, pieces from his clothing brand, BONFO, have become high-end streetwear must-haves, although not without criticism. All of this to say that new YKB music is much welcome at this moment in time. What exactly is new with Yusuf Kan Bai? Well, let’s listen to find out. 

In a 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. 

There’s a rock-like screech on the intro track, we ball, that pairs well with YKB’s barely audible rapid-fire raps. Lines like “Yesterday mo gba salary, ká lọ party/Everything go sort itself out eventually” lend credence to the laissez-faire Mara instrumentals here. Unfortunately, this also means that YKB’s chorus is rushed, with almost no room to breathe before he tumbles into staccato rhymes on the second verse. Finito’s drums drive the point home: Ballin’. Ballin’ even as the world comes to an end. YKB’s “Kalashniki” lines are yet another reminder of Odumodublvck’s influence on Nigerian music in the past 3 years. In this case, not a positive influence. 

On the next song, we take a detour into the spirit of the times with na money (somewhat related to the Davido, The Cavemen, and Angelique Kidjo record of the same name). It’s yet another simple chorus about money answering all and the brutality of life when you fall. Textbook Afrobeats aphorisms. Synths in the background of Jeriq’s verse spice up wordplay about legendary Ecolac traveling bags, party rice, and “poverty resting in peace”. Much like we ball, na money is a Mara track with rock elements, particularly on the bridge where electric guitar riffs accentuate YKB’s falsetto. Not a fan of the over-reliance on onomatopoeia (“Tan na na”), but you can’t take away from YKB’s writing (That “Ẹ̀jẹ̀ Jésù cover me/Mo fẹ́ k’àwọn tèmi miliki” couplet is reminiscent of Amaarae’s THUG (Truly Humble Under God) in how both evoke secular spirituality). 

How many terms exist in Afro-pop parlance for ‘madness?’ “Choko,” “Mental,” “Gbana.” All reside in dey my body. Danpapa GTA’s expletives are utilised to sparse, yet disturbing effect, extending his streak of standout verses. YKB, on the other hand, upholds the time-honoured tradition  of referring to parts of the female anatomy as dangerous. He interpolates Tony Tetuila’s Fe Fe Na Efe on a throwaway line that has this writer wondering just how many singers have done so over the years. We’ll never know. As piano stabs and YKB’s delightful harmonies lead you on to the next song, it’s hard not to think that so far, this EP seems to be building up in quality track by track. 

As the sombre chords on don yizzy (rest easy) come on, this theory proves to be correct. YKB returns to mellow Afro-pop, singing about his late friend, Yizzy. It’s an update of sorts that assumes a place high up where his friend can see all that’s happening on earth. “He probably chilling under that Olive branch/He probably listening to that Don Toliver.” When YKB asks for a “moment of silence for verse 2,” this writer recalls Lupe Fiasco saying, “Rappers die too much. That’s it, that’s the verse.” Both artists are able to compress a grand sense of loss into a few words. And even though the chorus is repetitive, you don’t mind. Even when the production is muted, you don’t mind. Even though you barely knew about don yizzy until then, you do not mind. 

One listen later, NVR LZY III comes across as a multipurpose project: New music for fans; an avenue to explore YKB’s unorthodox tendencies, this time through explosive Mara beats; and on don yizzy, a tribute to a friend who obviously means a lot to the singer. The EP’s 9-minute run-time is likely too short to satiate fans (we ball is particularly affected by this). There might also be discomfort with the rapid left-field swing, genre-wise. But all of this comes together in a mostly palatable mix. 

NVR LZY III is loose but not weak. YKB’s taste for conceptual Afro-pop music defines all 9 minutes, ensuring that this freedom doesn’t decay into an entropic mix of poorly A&R-ed music. It won’t be the first time an artist has attempted a loosie. However, he adheres to the winning formula in that regard: playing to his strengths (vocals, songwriting flair) and introducing hitherto hidden parts of his musicality to the world; an imperfect, yet passable product after 2 years without so much as a two-track pack. We would appreciate a longer, more robust project in the future.