“Both songs are ultimate efforts of MI and his unit, members who have recorded independently for some time, though affiliated, so that each man can bring his best game to the match and have the output enjoy a seamless fusion. Which is what makes us expect more, what raises our hopes, and what makes it tasking letting go when we spot areas of boringness.”
You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. Any artiste planning to sell Hip hop in Nigeria has about two choices today. You can modify the sounds to satisfy the brimming listeners and suit market biddings. Or you open a radio station, and then go on to keep it real to your fill.
I would call MI the greatest today, but I think there’s still a lot he can do and he already appears like an engine out of gas. So we won’t help him into further complacency. Still, we must say it as it is because Jude is king regardless. He is a gift to the industry especially when hip hop is the discourse.
“Summer Time” is an extension of the Choc Boys body of art, only there’s the loopy Loose Kaynon on this, so that the madness here is 100.
The drums are heavy; moving slowly yet with full intent, grinding the synths and guitars into a rich, tuneful mix. The composition spills enough juice to keep tasty the idle parts where the drums die as in the 00:10, 02:12 and 03:31 marks. The result of this is the raw, driving balance of the song, so dope we almost do not realize Jesse Jagz is not in the party.
Ice Prince brings to mind same delivery off ‘Fcuk You’ with MI. He is on bleed mode, he appears to be pointing the middle finger at many a critic who think of him as done and dusted, especially following his not-so-acclaimed Trash Can Mixtape. His verse is strong, something like him being fresh out a vacay. His writing is direct and punchy, his fire is red-hot and sh*t. Convincing! He lives up to his ‘superstar-tus’ here, just how we love. We dig his energy and gusto.
Loose Kaynon is straight up hip hop here, quite a major feat opening the song as it helps create a fitting tempo for the succeeding verses. Loose is laudable on this but there are still areas he could use a bit of improvement here and there, especially as it concerns time and speed coordination.
MI takes the last verse; his opening rhymes are voiced in huskiness, something like a Jamaican-English crossbreed. He tilts the rhythm a bit, slows down the pace and then stamps a seal of ingenuity on the nearly five minutes piece of work. His handling of this is expertly, even though there are few cracks in his lyricism. He rhymes a bit too much and loses us for split seconds, when we are already in awe of his Kanye-Kendrick state of mind. Quite needless the words ‘ransom’ and ‘handsome’.
We listen to ‘Round Cake’ and get the feeling there is a mixtape on the horizon. What a wonderful feel.
MI is spirited and cheery on this, almost completely carefree with the verses, yet priming. He creates the image of a seamstress as he zigzags edge-to-edge on this, stitching through the fine lines, something like the Singer sewing machine.
Summer Time and Roundcake, put together, are dashing pieces of art; both in form and in style. Jude is possibly Nigeria’s master of the covers and we can’t wait for the Illegal Music 3, if speculations are anything to go by. He plays the big brother on Round Cake when he gives about every member of his team a shout, an encouragement of sorts as he yearns and hopes for each man’s launch to heights. Summer Time is just as much a smash, cruising us into that path we’ve always loved. Both songs have the tendencies to enjoy some radio time given it is MI Abaga, if nothing else.
Both songs are ultimate efforts of MI and his unit, members who have recorded independently for some time, though affiliated, so that each man can bring his best game to the match and have the output enjoy a seamless fusion. Which is what makes us expect more, what raises our hopes upon learning that they are collaborating, and what makes it tasking letting go when we spot areas of boringness. Or we hear weak, poorly-balanced rhythms and whatnot.