As far as discographies amongst popstars go, Burna Boy is the most accomplished Afrobeats artist. On his 8th album, he does sound exhausted for the first time ever.
Make no mistake, the writings have been on the wall for a while now. After completing his masterpiece of a trifecta, that included Outside, African Giant and Twice As Tall—the cracks started to seep in. The aforementioned projects are undoubtedly his best albums and asides being sonic adventures, they were also very big on narrative.
Outside heralded a new era of Burna Boy, that saw him embracing his mainstream roots, without sacrificing his dancehall affinity—all the while telling a story of an outsider who overcame the odds against him. African Giant doubled down on the triumphant sentiment, but to a much larger scale of conquering the world as a flagbearer of Africa. Twice As Tall also progressed the narrative, while imbibing strong Pan-African themes. The albums that followed this trilogy have struggled to be as focused.
Love, Damini was a celebration of life and success by the superstar—who at the time, was at the peak of his powers as Africa’s biggest export, so the sonic and topical leeway was pardoned because it was a mash up of differing sonic and thematic elements. I Told Them didn’t try to say anything substantial and was mostly sexual and partying shenanigans, synonymous with life on the fast lane. Nonetheless it was more sonically cohesive than L,D and even a tad experimental with its Hip-Hop fusion. No Sign Of Weakness is finally here and the question is, what new thing does it offer?
Absolutely nothing. It treads some of the same Hip-Hop fusion territory, that was explored in more creative ways on I Told Them and it’s also unapologetically Afropop in some parts that is reminiscent of Burna’s earlier stuff, but it’s never executed with the same level of lyrical charm or sonic ingenuity. For instance, album opener No Panic has the galala bounce you’ll find on his debut album, but the tempo is dialed up to hell and the chorus is too repetitive for long spells.
A voice-over segues into the eponymous track, that samples Ghostface Killah’s Mighty Healthy. On it, the voice implores the listener not to allow space for complacency and to seize the moment. It’s a nice sentiment and a good contrast against the opener that was aggressively inorganic. And to his credit, Burna does have some impressive lines on here, especially when he draws comparisons with Harry Potter metaphors.
His delivery over the trap fusion beat is also smooth but his writing is shallow at best. Perhaps if the prelude of the song hadn’t tried to set it up as some cathartic story of overcoming obstacles, then Burna’s POV that never goes beyond braggadocio wouldn’t come off as grandstanding. Buy You Life heads into that Highlife fusion direction, with the rhythmic guitar riffs that’s derivative of Twice As Tall’s Onyeka and Love, Damini’s Common Person. The song ends up paling in comparison because his delivery isn’t half as dynamic, or as resonant as it was on the previous songs.
“Na who love me, I go love” Burna sings on the emo-trap Love, emphasizing the need for love to be reciprocated. It’s a tangible sentiment to ponder, but over-simplifying the essence of love to simply returning it, when it’s only given first—is quite reductive. It’s an interesting premise to set up the song, but like the preceding track, Burna’s writing is surface level. It’s a good, resonant song nonetheless. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for TaTaTa that’s so depraved of melodic resonance and has the worst Burna hook you’ve heard in years. Travis can only salvage little.
Come Gimme heads back to standard Afro-R&B territory and the bounce is tinged with trap drum rolls. Burna uses his head voice and it’s clear he is going for something emotive here but it doesn’t connect the way, Tested, Approved & Trusted, a largely similar song, connects. Dem Dey interpolates Lagbaja’s Gra Gra to good results. It’s one of the more mainstream leaning songs and Burna varies his delivery enough to allow the beat soar and the grooves hit. The talking drums that close out the record is a nice touch.
Sweet Love is a nice throwback to the past of unabashedly, black soul music with subtle gospel influences. It’s in no way a bad song but is in fact a terrible choice for a single. Burna however doesn’t leave his own mark on the song and it’s a bit too derivative for this writer’s taste. “I no fit love you, like I love Marijauna make I no high you” Burna sings on 28 grams, a song that underscores his nonchalance. The song is a sonic manifestation of the statement, “I no fit kill myself” and his laidback approach compliments his lyrics, so it does work.
Kabiyesi deplores Afro percussion over an House/EDM template and Burna sings about nothing in particular. It’s just a very nothing song that ends up being a filler in the grand scheme of things and candidly a missed moment, when you remember that Olamide’s 99—one of 2025’s biggest songs is cut from the same Afro-House fabric but executed with much more dynamism. Mick Jagger is absolutely not needed on Empty Chairs and his appearance makes the song sounds so disconcerting and jagged.
The intial snippet that premiered was a much more soulful version, because it let Burna’s background vocals breathe after the chorus, but the choral voices seem to be gone here and Mick Jagger doesn’t absorb the atmosphere of the song and forcefully incorporates his rock elements into it. Soul II Soul’s 1989 classic, Back To Life is sampled on Update and is perhaps the only thing that distinguishes Burna’s delivery on the song from Anybody. On a beat as visceral and African as this, you’ll expect Burna to unleash his signature melodic rapping flows but for some reason, he remains in gear one.
Burna seems a bit introspective on Pardon, where he reflects on his choices of prioritizing living his life over love. Stromae’s vocal performance elevates the song up multipe tiers and he’s one of the best highlights of the LP. The melodic rapping on Bundle By Bundle is impressive, particularly on the second verse where Burna finds a very special pocket and absolutely dismantles the beat with his flows. It’s a shame that the overly repetitive chorus does the great verses a huge disservice.
Change Your Mind is tailor made for Shaboozey to do his magic over a country/hip-hop infused sonic atmosphere and he does deliver. Burna is no stranger to the latter territory, but perhaps this song would have fared better as an amalgamation of African and Country elements instead, because the Burna we get is a tame one. Album closer, Born Winner ends the album on a high note and Burna does get deeply introspective on this song, iterating the point that his success isn’t circumstance but is destiny, while singing that he’s a “born winner.”
The majority of sonic templates used on this album have been better utilized and executed on previous Burna albums, and while it’s no crime for an artiste to rehash themes—Burna hardly brings a new twist to anything and sounds exhausted. After a run of eight albums, it certainly makes sense and if any popstar has earned a long hiatus—it’s definitely him, because this isn’t the product of a very inspired Burna Boy.
Final Verdict:
Sonic Cohesion: 1.3/2
Expansive Production: 1.3/2
Songwriting: 1.2/2
Delivery: 1.2/2
Optimal Track Sequencing: 1.2/2
Total: 6.2/10
