
Dark Mode
Turn on the Lights
Every Burna Boy album has come with attendant drama, meta-narratives, and side chatter so riveting and rabble-rousing that they could perhaps serve as grist for a television series. And in a sense, this is already the case. Remember how we collectively mulled over Burna Boy’s seeming fall from grace during his On a Spaceship era. […]
Every Burna Boy album has come with attendant drama, meta-narratives, and side chatter so riveting and rabble-rousing that they could perhaps serve as grist for a television series. And in a sense, this is already the case. Remember how we collectively mulled over Burna Boy’s seeming fall from grace during his On a Spaceship era. He had dropped a spate of poorly released singles, followed by a lacklustre album. Not too long after that, he got into trouble for allegedly paying a gang to assault Mr 2Kay, whose injuries were so bad that the police intervened and declared him wanted. His African Giant era, perhaps his creative peak, was similarly colored by drama; this time, the antagonist in his story was Coachella.
In recent years, his notoriety has given way to collective exultation towards him, a fascinating shift. He’s occasionally in the news for alleged infractions, but the operative “occasionally” does the heavy lifting here. His record-breaking numbers, numerous sold-out shows around the world, and his overflowing award cabinet have, by and large, upstaged the haze of notorious ephemera that hovered over him.
His No Sign of Weakness era has, however, occasioned a return to the head-turning drama of his former years. Not quite on the same level, but tremendously scuzzy nonetheless. In the months leading up to the album’s release, he openly and vigorously feuded with Speed Darlington, fired off a salvo of disparaging comments at Nigerians—stale news by now—and rolled back the years, transporting us to the tabloid craze of the 2000s through the drama between him and Sophia Egbueje—if you’re curious as to the particulars of this one, rest assured that there’s an excess of information on this to be foraged from social media.
As the album’s rollout ramped up, in the months leading to its release, more substantive concerns emerged; the singles neither inspired critical acclaim nor attained the kind of commercial success that had become synonymous with him. With every new single, he seemed to drift farther afield, and right before the album dropped, a sizable portion of fans were begging for the nightmare to stop. His antagonists—and he has no shortage of them—experienced the situation a little differently: his apparent loss of momentum fired them up like a glass of wine on a balmy evening. “Burna Boy is showing signs of weakness” became a punchline, one that caught on even with his sympathizers.
The album is finally out; it’s been out for weeks now, meaning we’ve had time to sit with it and savor its essence. The question then becomes: “Has Burna Boy, with this album, flattened the aspersions and concerns that arose in the months before the album’s release; or did he confirm them?” To answer this question, as well as an array of attendant ones, Culture Custodian gathered some of the finest Afrobeats savants around. Dami Ajayi, a writer, poet, and inveterate music aficionado—think this characterization too grand? Visit his X account and witness the zeal with which he deconstructs music trivia. Deji Osikoya, who is perhaps a more familiar name within the CC universe. He is a writer, actor, a podcaster—he co-hosts With An S’ Podcast—and not least, an Afrobeats avenger. Then we have our very own Patrick Ezenma, a staff writer with Culture Custodian, whose music articles, essays, and critiques shimmer with delightful lucidity and a refreshing faithfulness to truth-telling, saying it as it is.
Our conversation, transcribed below, has been lightly edited for clarity and brevity.
What did you anticipate the album would be like before it dropped? And what were your first impressions upon listening?
Dami Ajayi: When the album and the singles started dropping late last year, I was looking at the numbers and I was also looking at how I felt about the music, and four singles in, I was a bit worried because I didn’t think that any of those singles touched Burna’s antecedents. I began to worry that it was showing signs of weakness and made several jokes about it. When I went into the album, I was also aware of the creative wear and tear, the fatigue, and all of that. But when I listened to the album the first time, by the time I got halfway into the album, specifically when I heard Sweet Love, I was certain that it was a good enough album for me.
Deji Osikoya: My experience was kind of similar to Dami where based on his previous albums, I was thinking, okay, so we’re going to find a central theme that we’re going to build the album around, and it’ll pretty much be consistent with that pattern. I think he kinda upset that expectation because it didn’t feel as overtly, what’s the word? As overtly consistent as I thought it would be, just based on his previous work. Especially because I think I kind of always hold him to that Twice as Tall standard, which for me feels like his creative peak. I had to erase that first instinct. And after I allowed myself to do away with whatever expectations it was that I had, I enjoyed it. At the very least, he showed just some of Burna’s prowess.
Patrick Ezema: I think up to a point, my impression kind of mirrors what I’ve heard so far. I don’t think expectations were met for me because I could see the theme, what he’s trying to say, but in this album, we have him against rival stans. I feel like he’s brought himself too low to some of these conversations and discussions he’s having, and I think he should be beyond this.
Speaking to Patrick’s response. I think to some extent the best Burna Boy albums are animated by a desire to rail against enemies, real or imagined. The undertow on African Giant is his perceived slight with Coachella, and then with Twice As Tall, it’s the Grammy snub. Here, on NSOW, he’s similarly jousting with his antagonists, but this time they feel so inconsequential as to be almost humorous. There’s Speed Darlington, the thing with Sophia Egbueje, bloggers, and rival stans, even the swipes he takes against Davido feel boring and forced. I know there are other factors, but to what degree do we think that his lack of real enemies has played a part in just making him sound a little bit lacklustre?
Dami: Burna is a petty person, temperamental in the way that most artists tend to be. I feel that the paranoia feeds his music, and Burna almost always has to find things to be paranoid about. Uh, which is interesting because to me some of his finest works were done when he wasn’t feeling paranoid. I think one of his standout works is Redemption, the EP. I feel a lot of people think Outside is what cascaded him into the most important run in Afrobeats history, but I think it starts with Redemption. What I’m essentially saying is that I think Burna actually can do without paranoia, and after some time, it gets boring, it gets tiring.
Deji Osikoya: I think the lack of an antagonist or somebody to fight against definitely has contributed. I don’t know if it necessarily goes to the extent that it makes him look rusty, because I think there are still moments on this album that are ridiculously sharp. For example, the intro is an example of him just really outsizing his opponent. But in a way, it kind of feels like he’s a king drunk on wine, looking outside his window and trying to pick a fight, almost like David in the Bible, where he’s staring out and he sees one of the soldiers’ wives, and then he makes it his mission to sleep with his wife.
Patrick Ezema: Well, I think using it as an excuse for the music not sounding exactly as good as we know it can be, I think that might be letting him off a little too easily, you know, making excuses for him. I don’t think a great artist can say that he needs somebody to always antagonize him for him to function at his peak. I understand this is who Burna is, but I don’t think that’s a very good excuse because now it feels like he’s just going after everybody, just to manufacture an enemy.
Interesting takes from everyone. I guess the natural progression to this conversation would be: having spent more time with the album, how have your original impressions shifted, if they have, over time?
Dami: Yeah. So I will come at it from two points of view— the critics’ point of view and the casual listener’s. The critic is interested in sort of situating the album within the contemporary state of affairs, and then you want to situate it within the musician’s discography. Where does this album sit within Burna’s work? I think it’s at the bottom of his discography, second only to On a Spaceship.
Deji Osikoya: I think it’s one of those. I almost look at it like a playlist. I don’t think the quality is so bad that the songs are not listenable. I think there are a lot of really enjoyable records on this. Even some of the, I would not say experiments, but some of the chances he took, I’m looking at a little more fairly than I did the first time out. So, for example, 28 grams. On my first listen, I had no love for that song. It just felt so trite. But then, if I strip back and look at his influences and even what he was going for, I think it was an interpolation of Ganja Farm, I’m like. ‘Okay fair enough.’ I mean, this is the music that he grew up on, so he wanted to have fun with that. But I feel like he may have lost the ability to do the simple crowd-pleaser records. I don’t know if it was that he kind of worked himself into a corner where he’s kind of lost the ability to just do fun music enjoyably. I look at the records that were supposed to accomplish that, whether it’s Tatata or Bundle by Bundle or Update, I see what he’s trying to accomplish with these records, but they still fall short.
Patrick Ezema: Well, I like it better than I did on first listen, and I like it better than I thought it would be when I heard the singles. But it’s not a world of difference. Honestly, I think I agree with so many things Deji said because I feel like for songs to hit or for you to enjoy an artist’s music, it has to feel authentic to them, you have to feel that this song is coming from this person. I don’t think you can just take one of Wizkid’s best songs and give it to Burna Boy and think it will hit the same way. The thing with this album is that there are good songs, but a lot of them don’t feel authentic. Take Change Your Mind, it feels like it was made in a lab. So, overall better than the first listen, but still not good enough for me.
I think the consensus here is that we have warmed up to the album somewhat, but it’s still not on Burna’s usual level. I think what blights this album the most is the sequencing. So maybe if you rate the album like a 6.5 the way it is now, I believe there’s like a certain permutation of this album that exists at maybe a 7.5 or a 7. Does anybody feel the same way?
Dami: I think if he had released fewer songs, maybe if he had taken out three or four songs, I think it would be a tighter album, and the listening experience may be different. There are just some songs that are drawn out. But Burna likes to always be on the other side of 15 to 16 tracks, I guess.
Deji Osikoya: I agree with you on the sequencing issues. So, for example, getting pulled from Tatata to Come Gimme, Dem Dey, and then also going from I think Kabiyesi to Empty Chairs. It’s just like peaks and troughs, you never really settle into any particular feeling.
Patrick Ezema: Maybe that’s what he had in mind, you know, to show this and then that. But I prefer to ramp up slowly and then go down slowly, let’s not go from Update to Pardon to Bundle by Bundle, and back to Change Your Mind, you know. It’s not the best.
How do we feel about the production on this album? How does it compare to his previous work?
Dami: This your question hard small. I’m trying to think about it. I’ll yield the mic to someone else while I collect my thoughts.
My final question will be two questions collapsed into one. In a piece I wrote last year, The Nigerian Album Culture is in Dire Need of A Reset, I argue that Nigerian artists are touring too frequently and also releasing too frequently—two actions which can lead to creative stagnation or exhaustion. To what extent do you think these factors into the lackluster nature of the album? As for the accompanying question, what would you rate it on a scale of one to ten?
Dami: I’ll just take the historical perspective. A lot of the Juju musicians, especially the ones younger than King Sunny Ade, used to release albums almost every year. KSA used to say something to the effect that our albums are like our certificates, they are our proof that we are doing work, that we are relevant. The truth is, there’s just the machinery around releasing records or releasing an album that puts you back in public consciousness. I’m not saying that I know the terms of their contracts, but these guys have contracts to fulfill. You know, if you’ve signed a certain number of album deals, you have to fulfill your contract. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for an artist to produce an album every year. It’s not that difficult. You’re a musician; you should be able to find a way around it. I think what the Afrobeats guys have not done adequately is to lean on their strengths. Burna is a fine songwriter, and he uses some songwriters, but I think he could use more songwriters, so he can craft albums that speak to other experiences. He’s a confessionalist; he writes from where he’s at. But he seems to have exhausted the stories he has. He’s done all of it—the working-class song, the poor man, the love song, the heartbreak song. He’s done the sex song, the love ballad. He’s done it all. I think it’s a six, but I’m almost tempted to say 6.5. Yeah, six. Good enough. Six.
Deji Osikoya: Man, that songwriter’s point jolted me because it never occurred to me. Burna is just so singular in his craft; it just didn’t seem like a possibility, but listening to it, of course, he could do with songwriters. I think Burna kind of suffers from what a lot of people at the peak of their power suffer from. And the examples that I typically like to use are Drake and Taylor Swift, where it’s like you have essentially just commodified yourself to the nth degree, where everything that you’re doing is in service to the wider machine, right? At this point in his career, the only thing that feels truly authentic or is an expression of himself is his stagecraft. You can see it. He’s still finding ways to innovate. At this point in his career, he would benefit from taking a break. But I know that he’s not going to do that until everybody empties their pockets and gives him as much as possible. Because, for now, he’s hot stuff. He’s out selling US artists and doing stadiums, even Drake is on an arena tour right now, but Burna did Wembley. So until the demand for that goes away, I think this is his new normal. Then, on the flip side, what rating would I give it? Uh, I’ll say six.
Patrick Ezema: I feel like um .. I mean any artist has to find that balance because you can only perform what you create. I know from now till the end of time, songs like Ye and Last Last are going to shake up any arena anywhere. Sure. But he’s still going to need to make new stuff, new good stuff that people will love. So yeah, he has to find that balance. Is touring affecting his output? I don’t think I can say so. It’s not a bad album. So, a six will be my rating.
0 Comments
Add your own hot takes