For nearly a decade now, Obongjayar’s chameleonic voice has supplied phrases of self-love, survival, and seduction When he steps an octave up from his resting pitch, the Nigerian-born, London-based singer embodies a vengeful ghost with unfinished enterprise; an octave down, and he transforms right into a ferocious dancehall MC. “This place is ugly,” Obongjayar sang on “God’s Personal Youngsters,” a contemporary religious from 2020’s Which Means Is Ahead? EP. “Don’t let it rob you/Of your face, of your grace, and of your physique.”
“Born in This Physique,” from his new album, Paradise Now, calls again to that sentiment: “You’re coated in paint/Your garments and your sneakers don’t match/Don’t make your self small/For nobody.” Besides this physique’s received 5 extra years of disillusionment caked beneath its nails, and the temper of the second is much nearer to the one Obongjayar captures on opening monitor “It’s Time.” “I stroll the world with my head on a swivel,” he quivers in his higher register, “It’s exhausting trusting something.” Paradise Now is twitchy and anxious, filled with ruminations on love, belonging, and violence. Obongjayar labored on the file with confirmed hitmakers behind Doja Cat and Kendrick Lamar, and because it races by alt-R&B, Afro-dance rhythms, indie rock, and brooding Americana, a globalized, omnivorous popstar emerges. He’s instinctive however legible, algorithmically tuned with out being boring, political proper as much as the road of provocation. Most significantly, he could make you progress.
The primary 4 songs on Paradise Now represent their very own mini-arc, tracing a relationship because it goes bitter. Obongjayar delivers the scornful “Life Forward” by gritted enamel, however an overwrought association of martial drums, marimba, and gunshot samples can’t match the precision intention of his jabs. Extra profitable is “Peace in Your Coronary heart,” which situates itself in an indie-pop area of interest between the xx’s self-titled and Braids’ Native Speaker. Issues don’t actually get going, although, till the album has cleared its throat of trite breakup drama altogether. On “Jellyfish,” Obongjayar rails in opposition to “spineless” lawmakers within the UK and stateside (“Bomb bomb spawned by the celebrities and stripes”) alike. Although he writes in broad strokes—no “Fuck Badenoch”’s to be discovered right here—the shuddering, corkscrewing synthesizer leaves his message unmistakable: Issues are taking place the drain. Quick. “Speak Olympics,” that includes Little Simz, ratchets up the tempo even additional, making percussive devices out of each artists in a barely extra hospitable tackle Tanzanian singeli.
Obongjayar then breezes previous some tender Afropop (“Prayer”) and glassy soul indebted to Blonde and Moses Sumney (“Moon Eyes”) earlier than all of a sudden arriving at what sounds just like the gates of hell itself. “Child experience me like a cowboy/I’m your cowboy,” he croons on “Candy Hazard,” toying with the inherent machismo of the American West whereas the music’s blistered blues threaten to clamp their jaws round him. “There’s no saving me.” If salvation is out of attain, one might as properly dance among the many flames. One of the best music on Paradise Now is much and away “Not in Give up,” a disco punk anthem that opens with the triumphant misdirect, “I put my fingers up, not in give up/I’m on the brink of fly.” Amidst white-hot DFA cowbells, Obongjayar grooves like Off the Wall-era MJ and seethes like TV on the Radio’s Tunde Adebimpe, one other musician whose greatest work blurs the boundaries between fucking up the system and simply plain fucking.