Ever since entering his graceful, veteran years—Olamide has been curating his best sonic experiences. On Carpe Diem and UY Scuti, it’s evident that he’s past his rap prime but these albums are his most cohesive, accessible and sophisticated projects. Basically, as album experiences, they are his best.
Olamide’s evolution as an artist is one for the ages. He’s gone from hungry, relentless indigenous rapper to street-pop star to Hip-Hop Kingpin to veteran superstar and label executive kingmaker. All in the space of a decade. Not many artists can boast of as many meaningful phases of their careers, talk less of backing said phases with specific albums that defined each particular era and resonated the sentiment and relevance of each.
Even before the brilliant Carpe Diem dropped—which is perhaps the only modern rap classic of the streaming era—Baddo had nothing left to prove. After Fireboy DML broke out in the preceding year and re-affirmed once again Olamide’s kingmaking prowess, the rap legend could have hung up the mantle as an artist and retired with the status of being the country’s most successful and greatest rapper. But he didn’t and his most intentional phase was heralded. The all-strategic Olamide.
Gone were the days of releasing a single every other week and utilizing mostly a care-free, freestyle approach to most of these songs. Olamide dropped an experimental rap EP in February 2020 and ghosted for months before Carpe Diem in October. And when the album dropped in all its glory with its lush production and the best balance of pop & rap we’ve seen from Olamide in a whole, alongside its very ethereal, immersive visual aesthetics—we knew instantly that a new Olamide had been born.
In an interview with Apple Music in 2021, after the release of his dancehall & RnB fusion LP, UY Scuti, Baddo confirmed this himself that it’s almost like ‘he was starting his career all over again.’ We entered his most sophisticated era of sonics and visuals, that appealed to even the cooler kids of Gen-Z alongside the streets. The albums felt like movies and the intentionality behind the writing was commendable. And whilst he rapped and sung-rapped really well, it just wasn’t as great as his prime and that’s fine. He just wasn’t that hungry guy with a point to prove anymore. However on Unruly, he keeps the cohesion of his most recent projects and sounds as hungry as ever.
Olamide hasn’t rapped this much since 2016’s English-rap leaning The Glory and he hasn’t rapped this well since 2014’s Street OT. It’s for this fact that Unruly is one of his best albums ever, as it aims for the holistic sonic experiences he’s been curating since Carpe Diem, whilst still showing flashes of his rap brilliance of early years. If truly, this is going to be his last album, there is no better way for him to go out than with such a bang.
Album Opener, Celebrate opens with rhythmic guitar chords and soulful jazz horns, instantly plunging the listener into the sonic atmosphere of the album. The prominent pop sound of the moment is present with the backdrop of the log drums and shakers, but Olamide’s dynamism as an hip-hop artist ensures that the sound is fresh. He drops some memorable bars like “From Shaku Shaku to breaking shackles” and makes cheeky references like “ma fo e lenu bi Oshimen.” It’s just classic Olamide in his bag and the song is unarguably one of the best album intros of the year.
Jinja kicks up the energy up a notch and this one is for the ladies. There is little instrumentation in the production and so it’s mostly Olamide’s flows doing the heavy lifting here, which was probably the intent. On playful records like this, Olamide understands the assignment and doesn’t complicate things with dense lines and keeps it simple with dexterous flows that keep on changing. Asake’s background vocals is also a pleasant addition.
Problem is the most melodic performance by Olamide on the album. The moody Trumpet riffs after the chorus is so soothing and definitely gets you in your feels, like a love song should. Like Jinja, it’s also for the ladies but it’s a more mellow and vulnerable record, whereas the former’s sentiment was more assertive. The sequence so far, whilst being great is mostly calm and this is the point you need an energetic record. Thankfully, Olamide understands that and the album transition into its most energetic sequence.
On Gaza, Olamide heads to the underbellies of the streets to deliver a premium ratchet song to the lamba faithfuls. Eskeez knows the essence of such a record is in its bounce and he ensures it’s a galloping one to match Olamide’s energy. It’s almost like it’s a brawl between Olamide and the beat and it works exceedingly well.
The same energy bleeds to Doom, which is this writer’s favorite track at the moment. Olamide incorporates an Ice Spice flow in parts of the hook and interpolates Big Shaq’s Mans Not Hot infamous line also. The production is very minimalistic and the beat has one singular, recurring pattern and once again, Olamide holds his own well with constantly switching flows and defiant assertive lines like “radio signal going off like it’s a Mayday, I’m smoking hot like a Chimney.” Like Gaza this one is a sure party starter and would definitely set the dance floors on fire.
Come Alive is Afroswing at its most visceral and rhythmic. Bnxn does what he does best, flexing his pen-game with his opening verse and painting a vivid picture of old flames linking up after an eternity of endless longing. Olamide’s accent is a bit lilted with a Caribbean inflection and its in little details like this, that he keeps managing to sound fresh on every track. The overall pathos of the song exudes the feel of sipping wine in a tropical paradise in a similar way the Palmwine Music series does.
The transition to New Religion, the 2nd released single is smoother than that of Trumpet, the first and despite being out for a while now, New Religion hardly sounds stale and is perhaps one of the best tracks on the album. Asake’s performance is also the most memorable, as he matches Olamide’s rap cadences with melodic rapping of his own in the chorus.
Shibebe has Fireboy DML in his raw, uncut element and it’s just one vocal run after the other with image-invoking brilliant writing and you can’t help but wonder if it’s his song or Olamide’s. When Baddo eventually comes on he delivers the goods, but this is perhaps the only song where he’s overshadowed by the featured act.
Mukulu ft. Rema is the exact opposite in approach, as Rema is given quite little to do. It’s a song that prioritizes sonic aesthetic and environment than content, and it is ideal for Rema to set the ambience with his divergent, persian-like vocals. The log drums might have disappeared a while back on the album, but little sonic elements like the rhythmic guitar chords still holds the whole LP in cohesion.
The final third act of the album is just rap banger after rap banger, and this is where the glory days are strongly rebooted. Hardcore opens with very grand and roaring cinematic synths. Olamide belts out the rap of the song in a raw, grunting baritone and it matches the sentiment of the song. The log drums and moody violin return on Supplier as Olamide infuses some patois in his rap and does a Fuji vocal inflection on the infectious hook. It’s one of those slow burn, rap songs that would ultimately grow on you and is definitely going to be a deep cut on the LP.
Life Goes On and No Worries is the reflective, motivational sequence on the LP. Between both songs it also has the best transition on the album. The former is the more reflective track where Olamide is unapologetic about prioritizing his own state of mind over others, whereas the later is the more uplifting track with strong gospel, choral influences in the chorus. “Sitting on top of the world like it’s my sofa, killing piano and mixing this shit with Lofi” Olamide raps on No Worries, aptly summarizing his execution on the album and his status as an all-time great.
The curtains close on Street Jam, an appropriate closer that he dedicates to his day 1 fans on the streets and even the elites. It’s not unadulterated street lamba like Gaza, but it would find great love on the streets nonetheless. It’s one of the best tracks on the album, which is interesting when you consider the fact that Olamide is in his most playful element on it. It’s the only song without a clear narrative and Baddo is simply excercising his flows and flexing his rap muscles.
Unruly is unarguably a top 5 Olamide album and top 3 arguably. Time will eventually tell on its aging metric, which is of course an important factor to gauge the quality of an album. For an artist who was the first to complete a trifecta in his generation (YBNL, BGEL & Street OT) it’s pure wonder to see him complete yet another impressive 3-album run from Carpe Diem to now.
Asides from its sonic cohesion and great balance of rap anthems, this album also has impressive thematic cohesion. The narrative on every song is scrupulously geared towards the sentiment of being Unruly. When it’s a love song, Baddo approaches it from a gangster perspective, when it’s an erotic song—he indulges in debauchery and when it’s pure street lamba, he’s daring his detractors and categorically stating that they shall meet their Doom. It’s nice to see artists who still care about the gravity of titles and overall characterization on an album. Lojay’s Gangster Romantic is another 2023 project that excels at this.
Baddo, take a bow. You’ve done it again and we’re all just here to revel in your greatness.
Final Verdict:
Sonic Cohesion: 1.7/2
Seamless Transitions: 1.6/2
Expansive Production: 1.5/2
Songwriting: 2/2
Optimal Track Sequencing: 1.8/2
Total: 8.6/10
–This review is written by T.J. Martins, an ‘Album Talks writer.
Listen To Unruly Here:
