On her third EP and fourth project, the Afro-R&B superstar sticks to her guns and serves up the familiar to the detriment of her own evolution.
There is nothing inherently wrong with re-treading familiar sonic territory and rehashing old thematic tropes. Some of the most accomplished popstars (e.g. the Weeknd) has built a catalogue on the backbone of drug withdrawal symptoms, casual sex vices and fighting inner demons. You almost always know what the themes in a Weeknd album is gonna sound like, however you almost never know what twist and turns they will take.
Bottom line, an artist becoming predictable isn’t solely a consequence of their decision to embrace the familiar, but their execution of said familiar. Tems has thrived in the past decade and has become Afrobeats’ biggest export of her generation by honing and polishing her sound of rich, emotive soul music—powered by her unique, sultry voice that’s usually spread over dynamic Afro production by Guiltybeatz. Unfortunately, I think this dynamic is creatively bankrupt.
Love Is A Kingdom is in no way a bad EP and is in fact, decent. However, it’s too familiar to the point of being predictable and almost generic. This is her third EP and Tems is still singing about love from the slightly jaded perspective of wanting liberation from its shackles and not sticking around to be tied down. Once again, this isn’t inherently a problem but the writing never goes beyond surface level wailing and at some point, it all begins to blur together as one.
EP opener, First has rambunctious drums and it Afro-Swing template is tailor made for Tems to wax poetic, as it’s her second favorite soundscape only behind R&B. The title is self explanatory and Tems is unapologetic about putting herself first and choosing her own sanity, over the dramatic shenanigans and vulnerability that comes with falling in love. It’s quite a good Tems song, but music heads wouldn’t be able to fight the eerily feeling of familiarity.
I’m Not Sure has more vibrant and visceral drums, but unlike First that rehashes common Tems writing tropes, the melodies are the recycled elements here. Tems sings about reneging on control and leaving the ball in her man’s court for him to take the lead. It’s not a profound topic but if written well—can be deeply resonant. Tems however doesn’t go beyond superficial musings and mostly reiterates lines of love being something she isn’t acclimatized to.
Of course, mainstream artists have a certain leeway where depth is concerned, as long as the music is good—but Tems is an R&B artist and there’s hardly any genre bigger on emotional resonance and sentiment than it, so the writing needs to connect. This writer is also convinced the Guiltybeatz partnership is creatively burnt out too, because the beat of Big Daddy sounds like First’s, except with a more dialed up tempo and tepid piano notes.
Tems sings that her lover is dead to her because of his past transgressions and he’ll have to move heaven and earth to make her reconsider him. This is once again familiar thematic territory, as she’s explored this exact topic on I’m Not An Angel and while it is once again not a bad thing for mainstream artists to revisit old topics, the problem here is Tems does it with little nuance. The act in itself isn’t the bad thing.
As if wanting her lover to prove the point of loving her—wasn’t explored enough on the previous two tracks, Tems takes another jab at it once again on Lagos Love. The bashment drums are long gone now and the mood is much more melancholic and retrospective. To Tems credit, the second half of the song does deviate from predictable writing territory into something more poignant and heartfelt, but since both halves are a bit jarring you can’t help but wonder why she didn’t just start out the song that way.
Mine features the most vulnerable version of Tems you’ll see in a while and on the song, she lays herself bare and doesn’t shy away from expressing volatile emotions she’s afflicted with. Unfortunately, from the second verse the writing gets quite repetitive and devolves into more surface level musings that don’t depict much about her so-called ’emotional state’ and so the whole excercise ends up feeling contrived and futile.
What You Need is stripped of all Afro elements and is straight up, good old 90s R&B. Tems once again sings about prioritizing herself over succumbing to the shackles of love and the only reason why this isn’t infuriating to hear for the umpteenth time on this EP, is because the sonic make up of this song is different from the Afrocentric production of the the rest and quite refreshing.
Is There A Reason is a ballad built on rhythmic guitar riffs strung together and Tems is once againg jaded at a lover for not showing her unparalleled love and at this point, you gotta ask what she’s done to merit the love she’s always clamoring for when majority of the time—she’s usually on defence and hardly ever does bares her emotions.
Tems’ success on the global front might have been meteoric and unprecedented in a short time frame, but it would be a disingenuous thing to deny her talent. However, it’s not a reactionary thing to say that every EP of hers has been progressively worse than its predecessor and that her first EP—For Broken Ears—is undeniably her best.
Her writing has also gotten notably stuck in one vice and the Guiltybeatz production dynamic is quite monotonous. This EP might be decent—especially for casuals not so familiar with her catalogue to spot out the similarities—but going forward, there is a much needed revamp that’s required for an intentional evolution and I hope she does rise to the occasion because the talent is definitely there.
Final Verdict:
Sonic Cohesion: 1.6/2
Expansive Production: 1.1/2
Songwriting: 1.1/2
Delivery: 1.2/2
Optimal Track Sequencing: 1.4/2
Total: 6.4/10
