‘Lasso of Truth’, Omawumi’s sophomore album, accentuates that which has already been stated in her debut album; that is, the symbolic presentation of her self-appointed role in the music industry as “Wonder Woman”. Her extraordinary voice is her Lasso; her purpose is to consciously lash it out at societal issues for the benefit of her people, country and continent. So, it appears that deriving maximum gratification from ‘Lasso of Truth’ is hugely dependent on one’s understanding of this basic symbolism and sense of purpose. Consequently, my perception of this album, in terms of it being “conscious”, is that it isn’t far removed from what I believe Tuface Idibia achieves with ‘Above and Beyond’, an LP that offers you the middle finger if everything you expect of it is dance-dance-dance yet thoroughly entertains with quality music and depth. For me, that’s good enough credit for the album but barring Omawumi’s inclusion of one or two big hits that we are already familiar with, I envisage that many could consider it boring.

Omawumi uses ‘Lasso of Truth’ to immortalise some expressions that are not just uniquely Nigerian but also used to reshape societal values. Expressions like “Actor sef dey run” slash “actor no dey die”, “Na who dey alive nah in dey chop” and “Monkey dey work, baboon dey chop” respectively used in ‘When the Boss is Coming’, ‘Stay Alive’ and ‘What a Bang Bang’ are useful examples. The message in ‘When the Boss is Coming’ is simple: You live to fight another day—a theme that’s more solemnly dealt with in ‘Stay Alive’. I must mention my love for Omawumi’s pronunciation of the vowel in “boss” as found in words like “those” and “hoes” though; it ensures that the song’s techno-background is effectively “Africanised” even more than does her employment of Pidgin English in the lyrics. If ‘When the Boss Coming’ is that remarkable, ‘What a Bang Bang’ turns out to be a nicer Afro-pop cut. The track features Tuface Idibia and is a situation song that communicates its message through colloquial pidgin expressions understood by majority of Nigerians. What defines us as a people is deeply reflected in the language utilized in this album. Very nice!

No doubt, tracks like ‘If you ask me’, ‘The African Way’, ‘I Go Go’ and ‘Belle’ also exhibit exciting themes, they however couldn’t have been effectively conveyed without top-notch production credits. Cobhams is superb with the keys on ‘If You ask me’, a song that’s been successful long before this album came out, and technically impressive yet delightfully playful with his reggae-flavour on ‘I Go Go’. Also, ‘The African Way’ makes a point that, for obvious reasons, can’t be over-emphasised. Nevertheless, I believe the theme is over-flogged and there’s need for Nigerian musicians of this generation to keep searching for better, less overt ways of exporting our “African ways”. But then, Don Jazzy’s rescue mission of this situation is so terrific that I had to tell myself to chill; he apparently took the song above average. Alongside ‘Belle’, produced by Soso Soberekon, ‘The African Way’, ‘If You Ask Me’ and ‘I Go Go’ could have make the shortlist of the best productions on ‘Lasso of Truth’ but for this revelation: Sizzle Pro.

Granted, the name’s very unfamiliar. I mean, names like Sarz, Cobhams and Don Jazzy should ideally eclipse that of Sizzle Pro if found on the same project. Regardless of that, chances are that after you’ve listened to ‘Stay Alive’, ‘When the Boss is Coming’, and ‘Life Goes on’ you’d want to keep a tab on Sizzle Pro. More so, ‘The Best You Can Be’ which tells a competing story about parenting could have been “so so” without his help. His imagination and style are comparable to those of Cobhams and his versatility radiates brightly in ‘When the Boss is Coming’. Long and short, Omawumi employs the best hands to help weld her ‘Lasso of Truth’.

The downs in this album are quite few. ‘Personal Race’ coveys another over-flogged idea with the help of Timaya whose musical thrust revolves around his enemies and “Life anagaga”. Much as they tried, Omawumi and Young D, the producer, don’t seem to have put in enough work to overshadow this glitch. Plus, Timaya’s verse is one that’ll make you think, “yeah yeah I get the message”. Similarly, ‘You Must Love Me’ doesn’t sound good enough a concept and its total package leaves you with not much to be excited about. Also, ‘Warn Yourself’ is quite nice with Omawumi’s powerful voice and delivery effectively driving the song’s assertion home but Wizkid’s incoherent, wishy-washy hook is one unforgivable spoil joy. The song would have been better without Wizkid’s appearance.

In the end, ‘Lasso of Truth’ is to ‘Asa’ what Ronaldo is to Lionel Messi in Soccer or what Usain Bolt is to Yohan Blake during last year’s Olympics. Never mind that analogy. Here’s its simple translation: whenever you think of Asa as arguably the best female musical export we have yet, Omawumi should in effect come next.

Rating: 7/10

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Banky W’s A-list status reverberated against the four walls of the industry when he declared that his third album would be a repository of R&B songs. Given that most attempts at such in Nigeria follow similar patterns that is, acquiring inconsequential or no commercial success and pushing the likes of Iyanya to the extreme albeit financially rewarding length of sticking to club tunes, this declaration by Banky W was indeed surprising. In no time after that, he goes on to drop R&BW having tested the airwaves with his first single ‘Yes/No’, a mid-tempo love song made up of carefully-written lyrics, good delivery and of course, Cobhams Asuquo’s ever reliable Midas touch. So far, like every single Banky dropped to launch his previous albums, ‘Yes/No’ has been a huge success, and justifiably so. Did R&BW nevertheless emerge as a macrocosm of that impressive love tune? I’d say a half-hearted yes to that, and well, if a couple of not-too-encouraging observations were considered irrespective of equally noteworthy cons, a half-hearted no as well.

With a compilation of 16 songs, guest appearances by popular artistes like MI, 2 face, Lynxxx, Vector, Sarkodie as well as high profile producers the likes of Cobhams, Mastercraft , Sarz, Samklef and Spellz, R&BW is reposed with themes revolving around “Love and Lust”—a prerequisite twin characteristic of the genre R-Kelly popularised. The first three tracks, ‘The Way’, ‘Good Good Loving’ and ‘Magic’ surprisingly have mid-tempo instrumentals, with ‘Good Good Loving’ easily passable for a party song. Good good news is; the trio immediately engage first time listeners with worthwhile R&B lyrics, beautifully conceived choruses and Banky’s sonority. By default, that’s what majority of Banky’s listeners demand. If a song is not catchy, considerably fast and ‘dance-to-able’, chances are that they get bored with it. So, the motive is quite understandable. But from another dimension, that a Nigerian artiste should introduce his or her album with a very slow track comes with a boldness that has the same measure as that of setting out to make a truly “R&B” album. Having listened to ‘Find You’—the fourth track R&BW— repeatedly, I imagined it coming next to ‘The Way’ on the album and thought of the resonance that would have added to the statement Banky wanted to make with the project.

I find ‘Find You’ so impressive that I’ll like to consider it in relation to other notable “slow songs” on R&BW including ‘Low Key’, ‘Past my Past’, and ‘Say’. ‘Find You’ expresses the persona’s desire to settle down having “been there done that”—a message also conveyed through ‘Past my Past’. ‘Low Key’ reveals the beauty of requited love and the need for lovers to sometimes elope. The persona common to all three songs comes across as someone who seems to be re-defining a new focus in his life.

‘Say’ on the contrary, is all and more about lust. For me, it’s a perfect piece of soul music. Coupled with ‘Yes/No’, this song is a dependable reflection of Banky’s intention for this album. The guests on the track with the exception of Rotimi connected with the rhythm much better than the host. The four verses move in an average-up-up-average progression with Sammy and Shaydee owning the “up-up” accolade. This Sammy guy’s convincing vocals on ‘Say’, reminiscent of Wande Coal’s passionate delivery on similar tunes, makes him a new kid to look out for.

Despite the album’s clearly-defined purpose, Banky W managed to tuck in two potential club bangers: ‘Be my Lover’ and ‘Do it to me’. I’m sure a lot of people won’t help but love ‘Do it to me’, though I find it a little disappointing because it comes off as an embodiment of too many lines and concepts already used by other artistes. Check out the following excerpts: “I can’t get enough, call me Oliver”, “I can’t feel my face”, “love me jeje/love me tender”, “Omo I go start to dey craze/When I enter the place”, and “Scatter the Floor with me”. The most noteworthy is “the boju boju o, o o o/ Oloro n bo o, o o o” which quickly brings to my notice Wizkid’s astonishing absence from the album. ‘Be my Lover’ on the other hand, is near-perfect with Banky and Niyola displaying a surprising sync. Meanwhile, assuming you came across this song on radio, chances are that you would mistake Niyola for Tiwa Savage—a feature that underscores the fact that most female singers in the industry sound alike and often use the same style; of course, exceptions are few and far between and Niyola doesn’t appear to be one of them. That said, you’ve got to love the funky, 9iceish chorus of ‘Do it to me’, Banky’s command of the rhythm on ‘Be my Lover’, and of course both song’s respective beats.

Next up: The Too $hort in Banky W. Basically, the first time I heard Banky W rap on ‘Ebute-Meta’, I was like “Cool, this guy can rap”. The next time, on ‘Lagos Party’, I went “Damn, Banky’s got some sick lines”. Now with R&BW, having brought this additional skill of his to the fore on ‘Past my Past’, ‘Low Key’, ‘To my Unborn Child’ and ‘Mercy’, the impression stays the same. I really love his perfectly articulated flow on ‘Past my Past’ and the thought process behind ‘Unborn Child’ yet find none of the stuff he spits on R&BW comparable to his verse on ‘Lagos Party’.

The album loses steam from the eleventh track down to the last track and perhaps if ‘More’, a track that features MI and Eldee The Don, was made the twelfth and every song that comes after yanked off, we’d have a total package—one that could effectively make the album a macrocosm of ‘Yes/No’. There’s no disputing the skills displayed on ‘African & Proud’ which features Sarkodie from Ghana, L-Tido from South Africa, Camp Mulla from Kenya and our own Vector. The song nonetheless does not only sound forced, it constitutes a detour from the album’s direction. When we get back on track with tracks like ‘Never Let Go’ and ‘Good Good Loving’ remix we begin to get the feeling that we’re doing bonuses; the former sounds too deliberate and the latter featuring a dope-induced verse from 2 Face Idibia, too superfluous. Anyway, the album promises to entertain. That, I’m sure very of.

P.S: Scale’s verse on ‘Magic’ is an improvement on the stuff he normally spit but could still use the talent of a ghost writer.

Rating: 7.5/10

First of all, I believe this mixtape which was dropped some time in February by the new group A’won Boyz is an effort that ideally should have been released as an album. #Unsigned comes off what is now a fad in the United States of America’s enormous music industry. You’re new in the game; record labels are far from your immediate reach; you are aware of your talent though also cognisant of how annoying getting turned down frequently by executives in the industry could be; so you tighten up your shit and put it out on the near limitless expanse of the internet. This trend could also be associated with new acts who attempt to take a departure from the status quo and possibly content with taking along with them a slice of the market—that can identify with their styles or consciousness—rather than all of it. I believe A’won Boyz don’t fall in this category. Through this compilation of 10 well produced tracks, they appear to have a fair understanding of the Nigerian music scene already. But really, if you want to be heard you have to put your work out there, you know, test the waters. A’won Boyz decided to do that in a big way and, given the effort put into the “mixtape”, I find that pretty commendable.

#Unsigned unveils 3 talented guys who have all it takes to fill the void left in the Nigerian music scene by the defunct Styl Plus. How exactly do I put this? Let’s see, Styl Plus was an upgraded version of the Plantashun Boyz, a group that redefined RNB/Afro-pop in late 1990s into the early 2000s. The music Stly Plus offered was damn huge and I doubt if anyone had anything negative to say about its delicious quality. Since Styl Plus’ Expressions, the group slowly sunk into oblivion, leaving a vacuum, only danced around by P’ Square but can’t convincingly occupy. Like Styl Plus, these new guys have incredible vocal abilities that must have been nurtured against the backdrop of RNB with ‘I Do’, the only slow track on the mixtape, as a perfect illustration. The song which features Tolu (not sure if it’s the same Tolu of the Project Fame fame) has everything from the lyrics, delivery, instrumentals and ad libs spot on despite the fact that like Styl Plus, they can also surprise you with intoxicating party songs constructed around nice concepts. My favourite examples are ‘Calculate’, ‘Go Down’ and ‘Flash me’. Sweet stuff, I tell you. What about the technical know-how of song arrangement demonstrated in #Unsigned? I make bold to also liken it to that of Expressions.

Coupled with the exciting beats the group rides on in #Unsigned, A’won Boyz reveals a penchant for sampling hot lines and phrases already used by established act so as to make their tunes and productions more complete. ‘Ma Womi’ (Though spelled Wa Womi, perhaps mistakenly on the track listing) takes “Ma womi o, Ma womi” from KWAM One’s “Igba to de Eko, O meyo o, ma womi o, ma womi”. It works just fine. Also, ‘Don Hammer’ and ‘Calculate’ contain samples from WizKid’s ‘Don’t Dull’ and ‘Scatter the Floor’ which make the tracks work just fine. I particularly love how “Don’t hesitate, let’s go to my estate” came off on the ‘Calculate’. I’m tempted to assume this could be a demonstration of the possibility of A’won Boyz also having some background in Hip-hop? Well, that assumption owes to it that the members of the group are based in the United States—the country where hip-hop thrive the most.

Since the glaring intention of A’won Boyz with this “mixtape” aside from introducing its brand to the Nigerian scene, is to entertain, undue reoccurrence of clichés on some of the tracks-especially on ‘Omo Yen’ can easily be forgiven. But really, I believe that in as much as majority of the market don’t give two about carefully written lyrics, there’s still a sizeable number of the lot that appreciates it. For instance, irrespective of my fancy for the group’s presentation of ‘Ahh ting’ and the aesthetic value of the concept that birthed ‘Calculate’, I’d have appreciated the songs even more in the same manner as ‘Don Hammer’ given more development of the lyrics. ‘Don Hammer’ is right for me in all ramifications. Understandably, indiscriminate use of clichés and, often time, absurd slangs are what define the lyrics of our time. But I call Wizkid the “King of clichés” because he has a way of doing clichés right. I mean, there’s a way the likes of Banky W, Wande Coal or even 2face do it too.

Like Tolu on ‘I Do’, the only other guest appearance on the “mixtape” made by Ayo Jay on ‘Omo yen’ was worth it. The guy’s style kind of reminds me of May D’s flair and to an extent, Wizkid’s sonority. Finally, #Unsigned heralds a group that means business about coming to stay and giving us back-to-back. Like I speculated earlier, they could be a perfect replacement for one of the greatest music groups of our time.

P.S: Whoever produced ‘Go Down’ did me “strong thing” by having it nailed in my sub-conscious. I’m addiction to this sure club banger already.

Rating- 6/10

My first encounter with this new rapper was through his freestyle on the Ray-X produced ‘Zombie’ on Terry Tha Rapman’s World Domination mixtape released last year. That was one helluva first impression. Although I had a crazy bias for the dope instrumentals, Blaqbonez did just enough to conquer the menacing cadence of the beat with some apt punchlines. I learned soon after that the young rapper had been underground for a while and was with the privilege of hobnobbing with the lyrically acclaimed likes of Terry Tha Rapman, Pherowshuz and the veteran, Modenine. Consequently, spotting his mixtape HipHop in Blaq online had my expectation soar high and having listened to it a couple of times here’s what the tape feels like:

HipHop in Blaq reveals the influence of Lil Wayne, Drake, Kanye and to a large extent, Kendrick Lamar on Blaqbonez’s style. We are quick to get that right from the get-go with the instrumentals of Lamar’s ‘Swimming Pool’ carefully modified for Blaq to lace verses on; the lyrics and style sometimes sound too Kendickish, other times, too Wayneish. This is not to disregard Blaq’s unbelievable bravado to flow on a beat only beasts like Kendrick Lamar could tear apart. Similarly on ‘3rd Take’, one of the latter tracks on the tape, he furiously bites Lamar’s style but credit has to be given to him for biting it right. This sort of thing—biting— often criticised by sticklers for originality, is succinctly rationalized by Lil Wayne in ‘Dr. Cater’ as “re-reciting” or “recycling”, something that could be encouraged in rap as long as it “enlightens”. But then, Blaq openly confesses his awe for the Campton-born lyricist “I have a dream to be on the same track as Kendrick Lamar.” Unknowingly, this overt admiration as revealed through Hiphop in Blaq robs him of originality which, regardless of Wayne’s rationalization on Carter III or Nas’ ‘No idea is original’, is important for him as an up-and-coming rapper to be able to carve a big niche for himself in the enormous music industry.

The tape, containing sixteen tracks and two bonuses, is an expression of a common conflict faced by many skilled, on-the-rise rappers within the Nigerian context: The struggle between staying true to hip-hop and trimming down content to make a commercial success story.

On the one hand, Blaq makes a remarkably dope hip-hop track like ‘Respect ma Coglomerate’—a joint that almost had him out-rhymed by a cat who goes by the name Tek Raymond, tells a compelling personal story in ‘Situation Report’ and totally murdered the Kanye West-produced ‘A Star is Born’. Those, alongside a number of other tracks on the mixtape should adequately earn Blaq respect as a dope MC. On the other hand, he blatantly goes “…I don’t care if I end up singing do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do/as long as the shit be ending in dough” and makes tracks that are cleverly suited for mass appeal such as ‘Burn them’ and ‘We go Rise’— a song that has the acclaimed Suspect on the hook as well as Terry the Rapman on the last verse. Interestingly, the Outro perfectly merges these two extremes, presenting Blaq as a rapper in possession of that rare ability of maintaining a balance between commercial appeal and real hip-hop. Summary: Blaq could be the next best go-between Naija rapper to Sauce Kid and MI Abaga.

Clever use of metaphor is a significant feature that determines the level of respect you get in the game as a rapper. Blaq easily comes up with some badass punchlines with deft delivery on ‘Fire In The Booth’. Surprisingly on the same track, Blaq drops slack lines such as “I’m John Terry, see I’m a fucking baller”. Similarly, as tight as his flow on ‘Zombie’ is, rhymes like “they call me Jackman yea my dick is huge/when I’m winning eleven believe, no be PS 2” and “Omo Naija pull up in my Legedese/ and no be Naija rapper but I make you Reminisce”, might as well have been yanked off. This shows him to be fallible sometimes and sort of ridicules the motive behind his ‘Wack Song’—a lampoon of club bangers’ focus on good beats to the detriment of making sense even if it’s a little. As much as I recognise the message in the ‘Wack Song’, the portrayal is too deliberate so much that the effort put into creating it seems wack. Moreover, I personally believe that only rappers generally certified as veterans deserve a right to call anyone or song wack. In other words, since Blaq is a far cry from being a veteran, it would appear a wrong path to tow. Apart from that, we’ve seen hardcore MCs go critical on commercial cats they considered wack yesterday only to flip to that side too today. That sort of thing not only taints a potentially great MC’s credentials; it also presents him or her as an inconsistent, phoney if you like, human being.

Generally, Blaq’s talent is undeniable and one has no choice but to agree with him that he’s actually better than most rappers how there. Despite his experimentation with all sort of styles, spitting tight metaphors and rolling with some of Naija’s best MCs, there’s enough room for improvement. In short, a rewording and prolonging of Sauce Kid’s ‘E Don Dey Madt’, reiterates Blaq’s likelihood to “blow” commercially.

Rating: 3 Mics

Iyanya’s Desire minces no words about its purpose from the outset. The 18-track compilation is introduced with ‘Badman’, a mid-tempo song through which Iyanya drops fragmented bits of his success story and gives hints of what one should expect: Entertainment, entertainment and nothing more—something D’Banj faultlessly justifies in his classic album, The Entertainer. MI helps to articulate this even more with a typical Keep-it-straight-and-simple verse on the smooth-sounding introductory track to a thoroughly entertaining album, one which I certify a TP. Desire is sort of in the same league as Wizkid’s Star Boy and P’Square’s Invasion.

One huge strength of this album is that it offers new massive club bangers like ‘Jombolo’, ‘Ekaette’ and ‘Somebody’—songs so infectious that they adequately measure up to the level of ‘Kukere’, ‘Flavour’ and ‘Your waist’. In ‘Ekaette’, ‘Iyanya’ pays homage to a lady he calls ‘Ekaette’ (an Akwa Ibom/Calabar female name) and by extension, to some other hit makers in the Nigerian music industry. Consciously or otherwise, Iyanya unifies the beauty of the creations of the artistes he name-dropped with that of the beautiful persona in the song.

Another highpoint of this album is the top-quality of its productions. Of course, a little above 50% of the tracks are produced by D’ tunes whose work on Iyanya’s first three singles is something close to legendary. In spite of D’ tune’s overwelming presence, the album also presents another unique revelation: Gospel on D beatz. His productions, ‘Ekaette’, ‘Jombolo’ and ‘Somebody’ are some of the best on the LP. Other producers including TY Mix, Young D, Laxio Beats and Mr. Chido all give good accounts of themselves.

Perhaps, the first-rate quality of the beats on Desire is enough to perfectly eclipse its achiles heels: inferior content. For some people, perhaps not. Most of the tracks on the albulm have Iyanya concocting catchy hooks and choruses with no mind-elevating meanings. Besides, they often rely on heavy use of refrain to come out well. One would expect carefully written lines on songs lines like ‘Marry Me’, ‘Little Things’, and ‘Your Man’ mainly because they deal with matters of the heart. What we get on the contrary are joints probably composed with the same state of mind as ‘Your Waist’. In short, Desire could be a tad disappointing to cats whose love for Iyanya’s music started with ‘Lovely Truely’. ‘Somebody’ and ‘I Gat it’ are well-written, potential consolations though.

That said, Iyanya’s deft delivery best exemplified on ‘Badman’, ‘Jombolo’ and ‘Some More’ can’t be disputed. What he pathetically lacks in content he makes up for in delivery which, I would like to believe, was a premeditation of the artiste. He takes his flawless delivery from the lofty heights of the introductory track through even greater heights like ‘Gasegbe’, ‘Jombolo’ (with the help of Flavour), and culminates at ‘Drowning’—the second to the last track and a worthy acme. While artistes like Flavour, Tiwa Savage, MI and Wizkid combine well with Iyanya’s powerfully delivery to make their guest appearances worth it, Vector and May D could have given a bit more.

Having listened to Desire over and over again, I’m yet to decipher any meaningful reason why the album was titled “Desire”. Who knows? The album probably unveils Iyanya’s desire to entertain or something. That’s hardly enough. Overall, I give it a 7/10 rating.

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