Experimentation is the cornerstone of true creativity and innovation. Without it, art becomes stale and stagnant—not evolving and eventually fading into obscurity. An artist who is constantly evolving stands a higher chance of longevity, than one who remains in their comfort zone.
So for this sole reason, Rema deserves credit for his mindset that prioritizes evolution. Especially now that we’re in a time, that the mainstream pop sound—that’s mostly been defined by Amapiano fusion and log drums, since the success of Asake’s MMWTV—has indeed become stale and run out of legs. But the simple act of embarking on experimentation doesn’t automatically guarantee success. It’s all in the execution and it needs to be done well. And the execution on this album is lacking in so many ways.
Last year, when the snippets preceding RAVAGE‘s release started dropping—it signaled a strong shift in Rema’s brand of Afro-Pop towards elements of hyper-pop. Melodic rapping cadences, electronic and house infusion into the production and avant-garde, dark aesthetics that exuded ominous and mysterious vibes. This writer speculated that the EP was probably going to be an experimentation to determine the sonic direction of Rema’s next project.
It’s a practice as old as time, when popstars plan to introduce a new phase of their artistry evolution and introduce a sound that has a sharp contrast to what they’re known for. Of course, niche artists and alte acts have the luxury to do whatever they want on any project, as they’re not making music for the masses and won’t be held to the same ‘numbers’ standards. Fans of artists like these live for the constant experimentation and adventure. It’s a different game entirely for popstars.
Popstars need to make music for the masses and convey it in the most accessible and digestible way possible. Indeed, it’s a tall order as it could be difficult to find the balance of staying true to one’s identity and giving in to the masses preferences, but it’s paramount to find a middle ground that caters to the general audience and still represents the true identity of the artist.
The Weeknd did it with My Dear Melancholy EP in 2018, introducing the trap/synth-pop fusion sound that defined his After Hours era. Olamide did it in 2020 with the 999 EP, premiering a more pristine, sophisticated version of his pop/rap fusion brand of music, that saw a marked change from his raw, uncut street-pop days. A new sound that defined Carpe Diem that arrived later that year. And now, Rema has done it with RAVAGE EP and now HEIS, but the problem here is—unlike the 2 aforementioned great examples, Rema learns all the wrong lessons from RAVAGE.
First off, let’s get one thing straight. RAVAGE is an amazing EP. This writer believes its Rema’s best body of work, because it has everything in the right proportion. Great production, seamless transitions, appropriate songwriting and dynamic deliveries all across and of course, good experimentation that finds a middle ground between pushing new boundaries, whilst still carrying the audience along. Despite all these great attributes, the mainstream accepted only DND as a major hit, off the project because hyper-pop is just a lot to process. No matter how it’s done well.
So it was very curious to see what direction Rema was going to next. The right thing to do was to see if there was a more balanced approach to be taken, or if the sound could be made even more accessible. Instead, Rema did the exact opposite. It was almost as if he didn’t care for the audience again and just decided to make his deliveries more edgier and faster, the aesthetics even darker and the beats more aggressive, just for the sake of it.
Despite how braggadocious he was on RAVAGE, Rema always reined it in with humor and tongue-in-cheek lines to not make himself appear too serious or come off as bitter. On this project, he’s simply thumping his chest and demanding that the big 3 be expanded to the big 4, just because he can. There is nothing inherently wrong with laying a claim to the throne, especially when the big 3 have overstayed their welcome at the top, so it’s logical to force your way into it. But you can’t make an entire album of 11 tracks where you’re saying almost nothing substantial asides that.
For every DND and Smooth Criminal on RAVAGE, where Rema is hyping himself up, there is a Don’t Leave and Red Potion that are very steamy, sensual songs executed perfectly to provide topical variety. And then there’s Trouble Maker that is mildly introspective and even humbling. There was a level of intentionality and care given to the writing and thematic direction on that EP that is lost here.
This writer refuses to believe it’s as a result of lack of ability, because RAVAGE is a more refined and polished version of the hyper-pop terrain Rema has been treading. The only logical explanation is the fact that Rema doesn’t care enough to hone the sound as much as he can. Anybody can put out art that’s abstract and defies the norm. It’s quite easy in fact, just look at what normal is and do the opposite. Great artists are great because they can take what is abstract and present it in a universally accepted way, that it goes almost unnoticed that there was even experimentation at all.
Songs like HEHEHE and OZEBA epitomize the problem of this album. The former sounds like a freestyle that shouldn’t have seen the light of day. The writing is not focused, the rhyme schemes are all over the place and Rema’s vocal inflection isn’t justified for its braggadocious topic. At some point, it sounds grating like he’s breaking apart on the inside and it just doesn’t elevate the bragging he’s doing on the record.
OZEBA on the other hand is even worse. The opening quarter of the song is quite okay, with its subtle galala bounce and Rema’s chaotic flows—until you reach the chorus and its log drums overkill, to the point that the essence of the Galala infusion is lost in all the noise. The second verse of the song is nothing to write home about, as it’s just Rema mouthing a string of words that make absolutely no sense at all. Sure, pop music isn’t intellectual music and is known for being mindless fun. But there is not one single faint narrative you can draw glean from this song. It’s just all over the place.
On songs that isn’t chaotic overkill like AZAMAN, EGUNGUN and WAR MACHINE—it’s Rema himself that doesn’t do enough to carry them over the line. AZAMAN has Bongo-Flava drums and could pass as pop/hip-life record, but the writing is too lazy and he utilizes almost one cadence all through the song, and it doesn’t do the great beat justice at all.
EGUNGUN and WAR MACHINE both have great integration of punk rock rumbling synths, bubbling under the surface but it’s not enough to salvage these songs from mediocrity. The former isn’t structured properly in a digestible way, with clear laid out verses and a chorus. And on the latter, it’s just more of the same mindless angst and soulless aggression that isn’t coming from an intentional or justified place because both artists, Rema alongside ODUMODUBLVCK aren’t saying anything substantial.
In the case of the first released single, BENIN BOYS—it’s just a nothing record, that isn’t bad nor good, but definitely enjoyable especially in comparison to most songs on this album. Matter of fact, the track sequencing of the album elevates the song up a tier and it sounds better on here with the seamless transitions. One of the few great attributes of this album.
Then there’s the eponymously titled track, HEIS which interpolated some soulful Swahili vocals and has Rema reaching into his Fuji inflection bag. It’s a good song, that could have been great if Rema went off in the second half of the song, like he did on Smooth Criminal off RAVAGE, to match the energy of the beat, but instead he takes a minimalistic approach for some absurd reason. There is hardly any balance on this album. It’s mostly too intense or very tame.
But of course, there are great songs on here. MARCH AM, YAYO, VILLAIN and NOW I KNOW might be too few songs to justify waddling through these painstakingly alienating album, it’s at least something to take away and enjoy. MARCH AM has a more aggressive version of the Jersey club bounce you’ll find on songs like Teni’s No Days Off or Bloody Civilian’s I Don’t Like You.
On YAYO, Rema finds the ideal balance of aggression and intentionality, that’s lacking for the most part on the album. And when you consider the fact that it’s inspired by the brand of Afropop that’s a staple of an Asake and Magicsticks combination, it does put into perspective how unsuccessful the experimentation on this album is. The one song that finds the ideal balance is the least experimental one, with Amapiano fusion that also deplores the most similarities with the current pop sound.
VILLAIN is this writer’s favorite and it’s more of the same Amapiano fusion from YAYO, but on here Rema’s delivery is more synonymous with his own brand of hyper-pop that can be found on RAVAGE. The writing is focused, the rhyme schemes are tight and the aggression is justified. It’s nothing close to an introspective cut or anything, but the writing here sounds like time went into crafting it. The psychedelic pop vocals are also heavier here, in comparison to YAYO.
Album closer NOW I KNOW is the closest thing to an introspective cut on this album. Rema’s sombre vocals matches the solemn atmosphere and narrative of fighting demons on the come up. The second verse is flavoured with a little bit of that same ol’ chest-thumping, but the writing mostly remains on track and the sentiment is quite clear from the get go.
Rema’s HEIS isn’t a good album. It has some good qualities and even fewer great ones like a unique sonic environment, immersive production and seamless transitions—all made possible by a prodigiously talented P.priime who has made it pixel clear that he is the best producer of his generation. Olamide’s Carpe Diem, Asa’s V, Wizkid’s S2 and now HEIS are all projects with production helmed by him, yet they all sound so distinctly brilliant from each other. It’s not a reach to say Prime is the true HEIS on this album.
Rema on the other hand doesn’t seem to care enough to carry his audience along and approach this matter of experimentation in the most delicate way possible, so it comes off as organic. For instance, Victony’s Risk and Olamide’s Hello Habibi are very experimental songs in their own right. The former merges trap beats and an Afro-pop bounce in an unconventional way, that’s still very accessible and the latter fuses airy flutes, synonymous with an Arabic soundscape over trap beats with kicks laced in African percussion. Yet these songs are not alienating or needlessly edgy as most songs on HEIS.
Nevertheless, it’s not in this writer’s place to prophesy and say the album wouldn’t be successful. The few good songs off it might become hit songs and carry the rest of it into success. Such is usually the case for pop albums. Only time would tell on its acceptance and it would be very interesting to see, but as of now, strictly viewing this experimentation from a purely artistic lens—it is one that lacks the soul, nuance and care that its predecessor EP had.
Final Verdict:
Sonic Cohesion & Unharried Transitions: 1.8/2
Expansive Production: 1.5/2
Songwriting: 1.0/2
Delivery: 0.5/2
Optimal Topical Progression: 1.0/2
Total: 5.8/10
