Olamide, Nigeria’s prima indigenous rap star, otherwise known as “Baddo,” has remained relevant for over a decade. This status has been characteristically reserved for the so-called “Big 3.” He is not counted as one but is still considered Afrobeats royalty—and by some others, thought to be equal in prowess and even greater than the title. After 10 studio albums and a bespoke legacy with his label YBNL, his music releases have come in less frequently but are still effective.
My favourite song from him is “Rock.” It is not the fast-paced rap his hardcore fans love and are still on the lookout for. Although I am relatively new to Olamide’s oeuvre and did not fall in love until he started a slower blend—which typically involves a combination of singing and rapping—I still, however, listen to the older famous street-raps like “Goons Mi” and “Eyan Mayweather,” where he belts bar-for-bar punchlines with admiration. And lest I forget: the occasional ballads like “Melo Melo.” I still enjoy more and maintain my appreciation of this variation of latter-day Olamide. This began with the evergreen Carpe Diem album—after the rap-heavy 999 EP—ultimately forming the template for UY Scuti. It however did not stop there, always fine-tuning, until the Amapiano-influenced Unruly. And now Ikigai Vol 1.
Olamide is up to the challenge of expanding his sonic palette. The music rocks. The themes here involve love, reflection, and a shot of self-reverence. But more importantly, he just asks his fans to the dancefloor. He is swift with his melodies, demanding urgency, basking in crafty punchlines, and strutting the cadences of his early rap life. The album title, “Ikigai,” is a Japanese word that loosely translates to “a reason for being.” For the YBNL boss, it’s an interpretation that probably holds when you think of his 15-year legacy or even just from Carpe Diem to Unruly. Thus, when he mentioned retirement with the release of Unruly, it was mostly met with disbelief. Thankfully, it wasn’t his last project; the metronomic run that sees him get better with each year only continues.
The first song “Metaverse” begins with him singing, “People think say na craze abi na kolo ti mo gbe to n je k ori mi ya were,” before descending to give a hazy, explicit description about his escapades: sex, money, craft. Almost nothing is left out and his flows feel like that of someone in another dimension. It goes smoothly enough that everything else but the melodic fills fade. “Uptown Disco” continues on the same tempo and even shares the same sentiments (about lighting up the dance floor). It becomes electric almost immediately; Fireboy takes verse 1, while on the last verse Asake delivers his his trademark bar-spitting style. Backed up by Amapiano log drums, the YBNL trio almost create the perfect song. “Makaveli” is about impressing his woman and shows Olamide in his element of braggadocio, singing the hook “Emi loba goal, Obafemi, Tupac, Makaveli,” while the beat bounces, pulsating with each word enforcing his adopted title, until he repeats it, “Makaveli.” The lyrics here are again loose until when the terse rap verse comes in like a tease.
Ikigai is mostly what we love about Olamide; the sly lyricism he has shown over the years, his right to brag in punchy lines, and his ever-present gratitude, recalling his roots. However, the repetition becomes brazen. On“Knockout,” featuring SABRI, Olamide is not done being a romantic and explicitly hammers innuendos till it becomes almost boring and repetitive. It is the only song that doesn’t employ the danceable bop employed throughout the album, but SABRI’s dulcet is enough to carry it through. The bop resumes easily on “Hello Habibi” (“Habibi,” an Arabic word for “my love” or “darling”). This time, Olamide fashions a call-and-response with his gruff voice. “Morowore” is strongly reminiscent of the ghetto gospel motif, or Afro-Adura, as seen in songs like Phyno’s “Fada Fada,” Bella Shmurda’s “Triumphant,” and “Eleda Mi.” Here, the singer is reflective in what could have been the EP’s final track; he says thanks to his God. Olamide is a proper pop star on Ikigai, another advent to adapting genres. It is effortless here and leaves you crooning along with him. If the last few years have proved anything, it’s that Olamide is Olamide.♦
Ayodeji Ajibola is studying for a B.Pharm at Obafemi Awolowo University, Ife, and writes music, poetry, and fiction. He is an intern music writer at Afapinen. 𝕏