Review: Black Sherif’s ‘The Villain I Never Was’
Black Sherif is unafraid to become the hero of his life
The current Black Sherif dominating global airwaves and the pre-fame Black Sherif who, nestled in the belly of Konogo, was seeking an audience with freestyles share a similarity: vulnerability. It’s a resonant ability to engage in a catharsis that pulls his listeners closer to himself. Take his three-year-old freestyle “Motivation” for instance. In the video, a 17-year-old Black Sherif, seated on cement blocks, is staring at the camera as he lays his vocals over a Highlife-influenced Pop beat filtering from an unseen speaker. In the freestyle, Black Sherif is pleading with the government and those fortunate enough to have better odds at life, to show consideration for the plight of citizens in the poor Ghanaian communities.
“If you no get money/Abeg give us motivation/Show me love and hold me down/That be all I dey want from you,” he sings. Black Sherif’s use of “us” is deliberate; he marks himself as one with the people, as one who understands their realities, pains and joys. He considers himself a voice for his people. “I feel like I am touching on spots that people used to not touch and I am being as raw and real as I can be,” the Ghanaian singer told GRM Daily. “I am being the voice of that boy outside, because I am from there, I am from the Zongo (ghetto).”
Raised by a large network of family relatives in Konogo in the Ashanti region of Ghana, Black Sherif, born Mohammed Ismail Sherif, chose a life on the streets, buoyed by a determination to carve his path and harken to the call of his destiny. His travails and experiences are the fertile soil that Blacko—as he is affectionately referred to by fans—feeds his words. His breakout singles “First Sermon” and “Second Sermon,” both odes to street life, capture Black Sherif’s energetic delivery and firebrand lyricism. On his debut album ‘The Villain I Never Was’, which shuffles past the previously planned ‘Road To The Tape’ EP, Black Sherif makes a personal catalogue of his journey and that of the people he holds close to his heart.
Before the grittiness of “First Sermon” and “Second Sermon,” there was the softness of “Cry for Me,” Black Sherif’s debut single. His Highlife influences colour the tone of his delivery and the mellow rhythm of the track. It was also the opening chapter of Black Sherif’s common-person personality. Although “Cry for Me” showed that Blacko was a talented singer, it was “Money” that brought him recognition in his home country. This time, Black Sherif took his Highlife style of delivery and layered it over a Hip-Hop beat as he sang about his desire to escape poverty. On the remix, which features Ghanaian acts AMG Armani and Tulenkey, the latter makes a pronouncement, “Sherif, you go make am/E be time.” Less than a year later, “First Sermon” and “Second Sermon” were released and now, Black Sherif’s ghetto gospel is gaining massive appeal around the world.
“I’m at my down-est in life/And I’ll be homeless for a while/I know it’s unbelievable/Cause I had a home a few days ago,” Black Sherif reveals on the album’s opening track “The Homeless Song.” It is a striking revelation because no one could have imagined a homeless Black Sherif amid the acclaim trailing his music. But it is an example of the honesty Blacko has embraced all through his career. Ever the optimist, he reiterates that although he might fall, he will always get back on his feet, channelling the emotions from “45,” where he sings, “If I fail, I needed that/I’ll come back stronger.”
Defiant is one word to describe Black Sherif’s attitude in his music. Whether he is narrating personal pains on “Kwaku The Traveller” or collective trauma on “Soja,” Black Sherif informs the listener that he refuses to back away and settle for less. On the former, which was released in March, he owns his mistakes with the quotable—“Of course I fucked up/Who never fuck up hands in the air, no hands?” On the latter, where he recognises that he is not the only person in the world with struggles, he calls on listeners not to let the darkness of life overwhelm them. “No, I go dey run my race/I’m gonna keep my pace/Cause I really have no one to blame when I fall again/I can’t stand this pain/I can’t watch me fail,” he raps on “Kwaku The Traveller.”
That defiance even shows up when Blacko is having a great time. As he celebrates his victories on “Oil In My Head,” he chips, “Man don’t stay down when man fall/I get up and come for more.” On the equally jubilant “We Up,” he sings, “On God I trust no man/I lost few mandem to the game I was close to my grave I fell in a trap/But you know man don’t stay down.” It is a trait that Black Sherif honed while in the Zongo settlements in Konongo, one of the roughest areas in Ghana.
Since the days when Nigeria and Ghana began sharing cultural influences through music and other forms, there have been conversations about both country’s music industries and Nigeria’s dominance in the African music scene. From the issue of Nigerian songs topping music charts in Ghana to the most recent Global Citizen Festival, where headliner Usher called three Nigerian acts (Oxlade, Tiwa Savage and Pheelz) to the stage during his performance, Nigerians and Ghanaians are engaged in constant battle. In the media tour for “Kwaku The Traveller,” Black Sherif favoured collaboration. He visited media houses in Lagos and was featured on shows of Nigerian content creators, helping “Kwaku The Traveller” become the first Ghanaian song to debut at number one on the TurnTable Top 50 Chart.
“I don’t smile when I take pictures most of the time,” Black Sherif told OkayAfrica. “We are sad boys because there is nothing to laugh about.” The melancholy in his music is in alliance with the current crop of melancholy-driven sound permeating the African music space. Last year, Black Sherif released “Ankonam,” whose title translates as a loner; on the track, he evokes a sobering mood about sadness. On ‘The Villian I Never Was,’ he makes a tribute to the disciples of melancholy with “Sad Boys Don’t Fold.” Contrary to the solemnness of “Ankonam,” the energy on “Sad Boys Don’t Fold” is upbeat as Black Sherif paints himself as “the man who’s always been sad and ballin’ every day.”
He brings that melancholy to “Oh Paradise,” as it contends with the song’s bright horn blasts. Dedicated to his late girlfriend who passed away in 2017, Black Sherif revives memories of their time together and expresses frustrations at the good times that they never shared. “Sleep well my lover/I will be fine my lover/And my love for you’ll be forever,” he sings. Delivered mostly in his native Twi, he consoles himself with the belief that she is in heaven and begs her to ask for blessings on his behalf.
View this post on Instagram
Since he entered the music industry, Black Sherif has never hidden his admiration for the Asakaa Boys, the Ghanaian Hip-Hop group who, in 2020, bolstered the rise of Drill in their home country. Borrowing from the Chicago-originated sound, which was adopted and evolved in the UK, then commercially elevated by the late American rapper Pop Smoke, the Asakaa Boys—made up of O’Kenneth, Jay Bahd, Kawabanga, Cedi City Boy, Reggie, Kwaku DMC, Sean Lifer, Rabby Jones and Braa Benk—spun their unique experiences on the sound’s characteristic hard baseline and inspired a new generation of artists. Black Sherif and fellow Ghanaian artist Yaw Tog are some of the popular names on Ghana’s Drill scene.
On ‘The Villian I Never Was’, Black Sherif utilises Drill for “Sad Boys Don’t Fold,” “Konongo Zongo,” “Wasteman,” “Oh Paradise” and the Burna Boy-featuring “Second Sermon (Remix).” A self-acclaimed street preacher, Black Sherif pays homage to his roots on “Konongo Zongo,” as he revisits tough decisions he made in the past. He remains on the streets of Konogo and offers a peek into the life of one of its inhabitants on “Wasteman,” giving details about the pressures that many youths in improvised communities face. On “Second Sermon (Remix),” which was released last year and helped Black Sherif’s rise, Nigerian artist Burna Boy gives colour to the certified street banger.
There are not a lot of love songs in Black Sherif’s discography. Before ‘The Villian I Never Was,’ there was only 2020’s “Mariana.” On the album, there are three: “Toxic Love City,” “Don’t Forget Me” and “Oh Paradise.” Like “Oh Paradise,” there is a dark streak to “Toxic Love City.” On the song, Black Sherif admits his unwillingness to let go of a romantic partner who brings out the worst in him. He wants to leave but he is unsure if someone else will accept him. Between a known evil and an unknown good, he chooses the former. The vibe on the Reggae-influenced “Don’t Forget Me” is healthier, though. He opens up to his loved one, requesting that they spend time together before he inevitably leaves and goes into the world to hustle.
On the production side of ‘The Villain I Never Was,’ Black Sherif sticks with Ghanaian Stallion (“Second Sermon (Remix)”) and Joker nharnah (“The Homeless Song,” “Soja,” “Prey Da Youngsta,” “Konongo Zongo,” “Toxic Love City” and “Kwaku the Traveller”). He also makes space for new collaborators—London (“We Up” and “Don’t Forget Me”), Samsney (“Oh Paradise”), JAE5 (“45”), WhYJay & LiTek (“Oil in my Head” and “Wasteman”), AoD and RNDM (“Oil in my Head”) and Zaylor & Dystinkt Beats (“Sad Boys Don’t Fold”). These producers, diverse in style, cook a potpourri of sounds that offer magnificent uniformity on several listens.
While the production list is crowded, the guest list is not. It is a Black Sherif show, with only Burna Boy disrupting the flow, right at the end. The track list shares the individuality of Omah Lay’s ‘Boy Alone,’ another debut album from the African continent that does not have a crowded guest list. The album’s cover art, which bears similarity to Eminem’s ‘The Eminem Show’, places Black Sherif firmly in the spotlight. ‘The Villain I Never Was’ is Blacko’s diary, where he pens his pains and aspirations and victories. Although he might make mistakes, he is willing to own them while he creates his world. He is unafraid to become the hero of his life.
Stream ‘The Villain I Never Was’ below.
Featured image credits/NATIVE
ICYMI: READ OUR REVIEW OF OMAH LAY’S ‘BOY ALONE’
Luwa.Mp4 Releases Riotous Debut Album, ‘punKstA*’
Across the album’s 12 tracks, Luwa.Mp4 continues his fiery exploration and fusion of genres like Punk Rock,...
Rising singer and rapper Luwa.Mp4 has released his debut album titled ‘punKstA*.’ The underground star who has been on a release spree all year long, announced the imminent arrival of his debut only a couple of days ago with a cryptic trailer video and an Instagram caption that simply read ‘PUNKSTA* MONDAY.’
Before the arrival of ‘punKstA*,’ the rising fusion star had been showcasing his diligence and talent with a consistent output that has seen him put out over a dozen songs since the start of the year. A string of singles led to a 6-pack titled ‘lore skooL,’ while a deluxe version that housed 5 new songs came just a month later.
His debut album’s lead single, “pUNK FANTASY,” arrived in late July, setting the stage for what could prove to be a pivotal moment in the underground star’s burgeoning career.
Across the album’s 12 tracks, the eclectic singer continues his fiery exploration and fusion of genres like Punk Rock, Afropop, Hyperpop, and Rap into something uniquely different. Tracks like “Pure Water,” which was previously teased on Cruel Santino’s Subaru Live Stream, the abrasive, Tecno-influenced “pROMISED NEVERLAND,” and the more laidback “pEEp MY RIDE” put on display the sort of varied, autotune-soaked approach that has set him apart and helped carve a growing niche.
While Luwa decided to go solo on his debut, credited as the only recording artist, the album was brought to life by a cast of talented producers like frequent collaborator TOPSY, Emyboi, JTRN, 3CB, FVKK.ANDI and Jeremy Cartier.
Listen to ‘punKstA*,’ here.
Keep reading...
Shekhinah Returns With Surprise Album, ‘Less Trouble’
The South African R&B star is at her most assertive on her first album in four years.
South African R&B and Pop singer Shekhinah has released a new surprise album titled ‘Less Trouble.’ The Durban star, who had been quiet for most of the year, took to social media shortly before midnight to share the new album’s cover, synopsis, and tracklist, simply stating, ‘If you’re seeing this my album LESS TROUBLE is out now at Midnight,’ in an Instagram caption.
The soulful singer first began teasing ‘Less Trouble,’ her first album in over four years, about a year ago when she released its lead single “Risk,” a bouncy Afropop-inspired collab with Ghanaian star MOLIY. A few months after the release of “Risk,” she put out “Steady,” a dreamy pop number that suggested that something bigger was on the horizon. But then it was largely radio silence about a project until its surprise arrival at midnight.
If 2021’s ‘Trouble In Paradise’ represented a coming-of-age for Shekhinah, subsisting some of the dreamy, youthful exuberance of her debut album for more measured musings on themes like heartbreak and grief, ‘Less Trouble’ finds her at her most assertive, writing and singing with the acuity of someone who is grown, decisive and discerning. The delicate opener “Break Up Season” sets the tone for the rest of the album as she shows little tolerance for shady behaviour and toxic patterns.
Other standout cuts on the album like “Bare Minimum,” a sombre collab with fellow South African award-winning singer lordkez, the ethereal, in-your-face interlude “New Casanova,” and the percussive “What Are We,” where Shekhinah contemplates the nature of a relationship but ultimately demands all or nothing, all drive home a part of the album’s synopsis, which reads ‘A BOOK ON MORE HEARTBREAK BUT LESS HEARTACHE.’
Shekhinah invites a couple of new collaborators on ‘Less Trouble,’ featuring the aforementioned MOLIY and lordkez as well as multi-instrumentalist Mars Baby and Young Stunna across the album’s 11 tracks. Mpilo Shabangu handled the majority of the album’s production, while other producers like Michael Morare, her longtime collaborator, Mthintheki Mzizi, and Vuyo also contributed to the album.
Listen to ‘Less Trouble’ here.
Keep reading...
The NATIVE’s First Impressions Of Amaarae’s ‘Black Star’
‘Black Star’ marks another evolutionary arc for Amaarae, and The NATIVE team offer our thoughts after a...
Change has always been a constant theme in any discussion about the career of Ghanaian-American star, Amaarae. Since she emerged as a singular voice in the late 2010s, she has evolved from a sirenic Afropop-adjacent singer into a Punk-Pop firestarter with minimal fuss. ‘Fountain Baby,’ her 2023 sophomore album, was a sweeping departure from the lilting melodies and shapeshifing cadences of the hypnotic ‘The Angel You Don’t Know,’ emphasizing her commitment to charting new courses with her music.
In the lead-up to her new album, ‘Black Star,’ she has wholly embraced a Pop aesthetic and sheen that was reflected on the album’s promotional singles, “S.M.O.” and “Girlie-Pop!.” Now that the album has arrived, the singer has advised listeners not to go in expecting a continuation of the soundscape on ‘Fountain Baby.’ As keen followers of Amaarae’s career from its start, we are sure that ‘Black Star’ marks another evolutionary arc for her, and we offer our thoughts after a few listens.
WHAT WERE YOUR EXPECTATIONS OF AMAARAE GOING INTO THIS ALBUM?
Kemnachi: I had zero doubts that she would impress me again. Amaarae always comes correct. She is audacious with her choices, taking creative risks most artists would not dare to imagine, and somehow rendering them seamless, deliberate, and effortless. Her music has a way of enveloping me: it’s fluid, slightly dangerous, and yet irresistibly sensual. Every project feels like an immersive world she has curated down to the finest detail. With ‘Black Star,’ I knew it was not going to be a mere collection of songs but another meticulously constructed realm.
Bamise: I expected something fun, genre-bending, and sonically diverse in the fashion that Amaarae’s music typically is. I may have taken the album title a bit too literally, though, because listening made me realise I had an eye out for some Pan-African statements or something to spark discourse on African identity, but I didn’t quite catch any of that.
Boluwatife: Amaarae has largely delivered throughout her career, so I knew she was going to come correct again. She’s one of those forward-thinking artists who take the kind of risks most others wouldn’t, but she always manages to make it work. She’s proven to be a musical omnivore who constantly meshes her wide-ranging influences into something new, fluid, icy, and more often than not, sensual. I knew ‘Black Star’ wasn’t going to be any different.
WHAT SONGS STOOD OUT ON THE FIRST LISTEN?
Wale: I liked “Girlie-Pop!.” I feel like it captures Amaarae’s vision of pushing Afropop into the future. She’s also really grown comfortable with music and lyricism and will not dumb down her message for anybody. The instrumental for “Girlie-Pop!” is also a wonder; it’s so dense, but there are pockets for Amaarae to be emotive about her feelings. Top song!
Daniel Akins: I need to hear “B2B” at the next rave I’m at. Amaarae is in her Dance era, and I’m here for it. Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2” with PinkPantheress is the collaboration I knew I needed, and I’m glad they finally linked up. It’s a clear standout on the project; their ethereal style complements each other.
Shina: “B2B” was the one that did it for me. That is my favourite track on the project. The number of times I ran it back was unhealthy for a first listen. It was also really fun to catch the Don Toliver “Best You Had” sample. I need to hear this outside!
HOW WELL YOU THINK THE GUEST APPEARANCES ENHANCED THE LISTENING EXPERIENCE?
Israel: The guest features on Black Star aren’t mere flexes. They’re strategic, theatrical, and sometimes emotionally resonant. They enhance, yes, but they do so on Amaarae’s terms. A standout for me was PinkPantheress on “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2.” The tradeoff is that a few songs feel like dazzling cameos rather than an integrated conversation, yet overall they enhance the album’s drama, texture, and bravado with precision.
Daniel Banjoko: Everyone showed up and delivered, no weak links here. Instead of just guest spots, they felt like vital pieces of a bigger puzzle. Charlie Wilson on “Dream Scenario” nailed his part especially, making the track sound exactly like its name promises.
Moore: The guest appearances on ‘Black Star’ feel very intentional; each one enhances the album’s world without overshadowing Amaarae’s vision. PinkPantheress’s signature airy delivery meshes with Amaarae’s experimental pop sound. Naomi Campbell’s commanding voice on “ms60” is an unexpected but powerful addition, adding drama to the track. Each feature feels carefully chosen.
WHAT SONG IS THE BIGGEST SKIP?
Bamise: Not to be a party pooper, but I don’t get the PinkPantheress collab, “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2.” It feels like a PinkPantheress song with less pop in it, and just borrows the title of the iconic Soulja Boy song but has no other similarities. It’s between that and “ms60.” For me, the chorus of that sounds like something I’ve heard from Amaarae before, and I doubt its absence would have diminished the album.
Shina: I feel like biggest skip is a strong word for a solid project, but if I have to pick a song to skip, it’ll be “ms60.” I think it’s easily forgettable.
Wale: It’s hard to single out a song that stuck out to me, but hearing Naomi Campbell on “ms60” threw me off. It’s just too contrived to bear for me.
WHAT SONG HAS THE BIGGEST HIT POTENTIAL?
Boluwatife: My gut answer would probably be “She Is My Drug,” just because of how she beautifully reworks the melodies from Cher’s “Believe.” DJ remixes of this song could go crazy. But if I were to think a bit more logically, TikTok would probably lap up “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2.”
Daniel Banjoko: “Kiss Me Thru the Phone pt 2” goes crazy. Amaarae and PinkPantheress are the perfect match. This collab feels like it was destined to happen, and it delivers in full. Honestly, I can’t believe it took this long, and now I just need more tracks from these two, ASAP.
Moore: “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2” has the biggest hit potential on the album. The song has a nostalgic, sad party girl vibe that makes it appealing, and it’s also catchy and well-produced. PinkPantheress consistently performs well on platforms like TikTok, and her fanbase overlaps in a really interesting way with Amaarae’s. The collaboration feels organic and exciting, and will likely create a lot of buzz.
OVERALL FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Wale: There is a very visceral quality to how Amaarae expresses desire that I don’t hear very often in a lot of music. It’s abstracted and warped in futuristic textures, but it’s very profoundly human, and it’s always great to hear that even as she advances the sonics of her delivery. I do, however, have an issue with the thematic scope of ‘Black Star.’ I thought there would be overt references to her experiences of navigating her Ghanaian identity, but those references are limited to samples and interpolations. It’s still an incisive listen and a triumph for finding ways to advance music from Africa.
Bamise: It’s Amaarae; she can never go wrong. But for me, this is the album that excites me the least from her catalogue. Other than how bass-heavy some songs on the album are, like “S.M.O.” and “She Is My Drug” among others, it feels similar to other projects I’ve heard from her in a way that’s not exactly refreshing or mind-bending. I may have gotten spoiled by how diverse and eclectic Amaarae’s music tends to be, but I wanted more from her. I expected more gangster, Hip-Hop Amaarae. Thematically, I didn’t get anything that gives the Black Star of Ghana, or black stars are ruling the world. Will I listen again and enjoy every bit of it still, though? Yes, I will.
Shina: So first off, this is a solid body of work. I love the fact that Amaarae stuck with the Dance, Electro-Pop route she was going with throughout the album. The features also played their part, adding their unique touches to each record. I would say, though, a feature I would’ve loved to hear on this project is 070Shake. I think she would have been perfect on “100DRUM,” but we don’t always get what we want, do we? Thematically, I think Amaarae could’ve leaned heavily on her Ghanaian heritage, seeing as the title and cover of the album are a nod to that. Maybe Amaarae just wants us to dance, and that’s what I’m just gonna do, and you should too.
Keep reading...
