7.2/10
By making a namesake of his fourth album, Fireboy cautioned us from the earliest possible moment that adedamola would be something truly personal; a return to his roots after his worldly sabbatical through Playboy. From the moodily composed portrait making up the album artwork, to his daily tweets featuring a selection of the album’s most wistful lyrics, each reference pointed to the emotional soundscapes we now know make up the 40-minute runtime of adedamola. Though this project shares its rough overall theme of life and love with Fireboy’s debut project Laughter, Tears and Goosebumps, adedamola takes a different tack in expressing this, resting the vocal runs for a moment, opting instead to push for greater sonic diversity through genre-pushing collaborations. The result of this tradeoff is a bold reintroduction to the art of balladry, made possible through countless reimaginations of the genre, plucked fresh from the eye of Fireboy’s mind.
If the vision wasn’t already clear enough, iseoluwa hammers the point in. It opens with all signs pointing to a traditional fuji-style praise anthem, and maintains this sound for just about long enough for us to believe it – until our predictions are scattered, softly, with a crescendo of keys, horns and harmonic hums transforming the atmosphere into an orchestral thanksgiving by the time Fireboy gives the glory to God. This theme is continued with call me*, starting with a pared-back house beat which lends us the danceability to keep us moving despite the sincerity of the subject it’s paired with – Fireboy’s most profound, unconditional love. We’re left with a song that finds its place just as much on a wedding party soundtrack as it does coming off the speakers at a get-together.
ecstasy sexily recreates the hedonistic high of infatuation. We are greeted with literal breathing layered on top of Seun Kuti’s silken saxophone stylings which come in and out again and again throughout the song; the rest of the message is delivered in an intimate talk-singing tone, which is punctuated with bursts of passionate background vocals sung in the key above, all voiced by Fireboy. Overall the song tastefully, yet doubtlessly shows us that, for Fireboy, the line between intense passion and sexual desire is non-existent, and, in doing so, sets the mood for any listeners who share this sentiment. Its effect is made more potent when paired with its successor. In the darkest performance of the album, Fireboy comes to us as a man scorned on hell and back*. The butterflies in his belly have since shrivelled up and died, and his ecstasy has turned to misery. In 3 minutes we are made to feel the extent of the artist’s pain as he delivers an unfiltered monologue of irritation and hurt towards the woman who wronged him, underscored by a choir of percussion and strings. He interpolates omah lay’s soso, giving us an apt reference point for his mental struggles – he has clearly suffered at this woman’s hand.
The collaborations are easily one of the best and most beautifully inconsistent things about this album. letting go sings of a genuinely happy ending, lending us a light and bright take on the dissolution of a relationship. Aided by Lojay’s melodic delivery, and fortified with ukelele chords on the outro, it’s a feel-good tune through and through. back n forth* canvasses a performance of vintage romance, with Lagbaja and Fireboy co-creating an utterly timeless soundscape in which every element begs the age-old question: ‘how can show you I love you?’. Despite Fireboy vocalising mostly solo up until the final verse, Lagbaja’s talking drum assembles a chorus of percussive voices to keep his company. Although the two lyricists could have gone back and forth a bit more with their delivery throughout the song, I love the use of panning to create that effect with Lagbaja’s outro. ready is a piano ballad at its purest. Jon Batiste’s acoustic instrumental provides a dazzling backdrop against which Fireboy’s voice sparkles at its brightest in likely the most breath-taking track on the album. Here we witness our master’s return to his main work, as he throws vocal runs, falsetto, ad-libbing, harmonies, secondary vocals, tertiary vocals all into the mix, and we are left completely devastated at his heart-wrenching show of skill. Then, before we can burst into the hot tears we’ve built up, wande’s bop bursts us into involuntary movement. This is a club tune for real steppers. As the name suggests, the bop is heavily inspired by Wande Coal’s “The Kick”, which any WC fans will quickly realise, yet Fireboy and SPINALL impressively hold their own, breathing new life into one of WC’s most recognisable jams. The best part is the lyricless vocalisation that happens after each chorus, capturing Wande’s spirit so precisely that you’ll question whether Fireboy was possessed.
change your life ushers us into an urgent pulse, punctuated into double time by Fireboy’s heavy breathing on the beat. We get a nearly 1-minute intro to the rhythm before his vocals clock in, effortlessly smoothing out the pace to create a steady groove.
Next, we get obaa sima* and need me*, the perfect two-track run that leaves little to be desired beyond simply wishing they came earlier in the album. The album peaks here for me. We are introduced into their world with an irresistibly sweet combination of humming, amapiano and a lilting melody on the violin. Fireboy sings of the perfect woman with a full tune that does her substance justice, leaving us happy and hypnotised like he is. obaa sima is a vibe for outside, in every sense; perfect for a party, holiday or any other enjoyment. Then, after the guests have packed up and gone home, and the rocks have ended, Fireboy takes us back inside, through the house and into the bedroom for need me, closing the door behind him. The amapiano beat is maintained but softened, as it’s pitched down and rounded out. Fireboy keeps up the rhythm from earlier, but his delivery has gone whispery and breathless. The lyrics have developed from him pleading for a night with Obaa Sima, to him letting her know, in low tones, that he’ll be there for her next time. We aren’t given all the details, as a gentleman never does, but we are set free to fill in the gaps. The short story is concluded.
We round off with a shoutout to the haters on yawa, another catchy tune imbued with the amapiano spirit, everyday, a true Afrobeats jam whose saxophone interpolation places it firmly in the wedding party category, and jon’s interlude, an emotive piano piece which takes us right back to where we left off on ready, before bringing adedamola to its echoing close.Our advice: Don’t listen to this project married to a fixed notion of what a romantic album should be. In doing that, in forcing each song to conform to a time-worn definition of what a ballad is, or expecting each track to follow on consistently from the other, you close your mind to the core beauty of this piece of work. In this mixtape-album hybrid, Fireboy reveals the inner workings of his mind, giving us our closest look yet into his many expressions of love and of sound. If adedamola is any indication of his future, we look forward to more variety to come.
