Review: Davido’s ‘5ive’
Make no mistake, Davido is still an Afropop juggernaut but there’s a palpable sense of listlessness that creeps into '5IVE.'
Make no mistake, Davido is still an Afropop juggernaut but there’s a palpable sense of listlessness that creeps into '5IVE.'
Davido understands the mechanics of moments more, perhaps, than anyone else in Afropop. Blowing up in an era of Nigerian Pop that prioritized singles over full-length projects, the singer’s earliest years were spent orchestrating grand hit after hit that lasered their imprints on popular culture and effectively sealed his reputation as one of the most important Afropop acts of all time. Years later, when Afropop started to expand beyond the continent’s borders, attract international audiences, and tilt towards a global audience that required more than the bite-sized slice of cultural ingress that singles provided, the singer recalibrated his approach and shifted to the full-length efforts that were becoming ubiquitous.
Since the 2019 release of his balmy sophomore album, ‘A Good Time,’ the singer has been one of the most prolific mainstream Afropop acts, releasing four albums in six years, a stark contrast to the solitary album and extended play released in the first eight years of his career. Those albums have also not been scrappy throwaways: there are few albums as representative of the stunning rise to global popularity that Afropop enjoyed circa 2019 as ‘A Good Time’ and 2020’s ‘A Better Time’ were. And both records stood out as beacons of normalcy during the unprecedented disruption of the COVID-19 pandemic. Even 2023’s ‘Timeless,’ a thrilling finale to his series of time-indented albums, was a swaggering return to the scene after a deeply hurtful personal loss that provided resonant tunes like “UNAVAILABLE” and “KANTE.”
On ‘5IVE,’ his latest album, there’s nothing new to learn about the Afropop giant and the forces that animate his best work. Make no mistake, Davido is still an Afropop juggernaut capable of constructing moments of downright elation, but there’s a palpable sense of listlessness that creeps into this project, and that hasn’t found its way anywhere near Davido’s work since his bloated and uneven debut, ‘Omo Baba Olowe: The Genesis.’ And maybe that’s the problem, Davido has never promised to reshape the DNA of the genre with his releases. What he has always done effectively is to synthesise the liveliest aspects of the soundscape to meet the moment on his own terms. On several occasions on ‘5IVE,’ he sounds frozen in time, seemingly disinterested in working his way out of the rot that Afropop’s mainstream finds itself in.
It shouldn’t have been this way: the pre-released trifecta of “Be There Still,” “Awuke,” and “Funds” are bouncy polychromatic slappers that seemed to promise another big Davido moment on the horizon as he talked us through his favorite fashion brands, wisecracks, and gestures for his loved ones. In fact, the words on album opener, “Five By Alhanislam,” cast Davido as a phoenix rising and a free man about to seize the moment. Instead, what we get is a singer who’s still clinging to the ghost of topics that have served him well in the past without breaking new ground in his exploration of these themes. Take “10 Kilo” for example, where the singer is obsessing over a lover and unabashedly expressing his desire for her — it simply doesn’t have the theatrical eloquence of previous iterations like “Assurance” and “Jowo” nor does it have the unshakeable zest of tracks like “Fall” and “IN THE GARDEN.”
In the last two years, Davido has been at work to clean up his act, belatedly settling into his marriage after turbulence brought on by his infidelity, spending more time with his children, and straddling the divide between boardroom and stage with a practised efficiency. He’s acknowledging the clarity this new lease on life gives him on “Anything.” Louddaaa’s muted percussion serve as the base for his musing on where his life is, what he’s getting up to, and the distractions he’s turning away from. “Different girls on my phone but I steady lock up,” he sings on a stretch that points out just how long he’s been at the top of Afropop. Davido’s reflections do provide one of the album’s high points on “Nuttin Dey,” an uplifting number about accepting life’s ebbs and flow that leans on an early 2000s Nigerian Pop flow while looping in the call and response of Afrobeat with a sprinkle of Amapiano’s signature log drums. A similar impulse about owning the narrative of one’s life produces the Chris Brow-featuring “Titanium” but intent doesn’t always translate to execution; instead what we are left with is a rote, unimaginative song whose chorus seems to try to echo the sentiments of the Sia and David Guetta original.
Still, collaborations are an important part of the Davido experience and some of the best songs on ‘5IVE’ benefit from the imagination of his guest choices. Victoria Monét demonstrates her impeccable writing skills on “Offa Me,” a delicate R&B ballad that blends Monét’s silky vocals and Davido’s throbbing emotiveness. South African vocalist, Musa Keys, steals the show on “Holy Water” with a symphonic whispered chorus that perfectly tees up Davido and Victony for memorable verses on a song that pays homage to private school amapiano. Shenseea and 450 provide a different dimension to Davido’s saccharinnic crooning on “R&B” while the aforementioned “Funds” benefits immensely from Chike and Odumodublvck’s dynamism.
The writing and sequencing slump that pervades ‘5IVE’ does not entirely erode Davido’s incredible instinct for curation. In fact, there are indelible reminders of Davido’s ear for melodies and instrumentals that just work. “CFMF,” written by Victony, sounds like an incredible record that just didn’t make the cut for his ‘Stubborn’ album; in Davido’s hands, it’s whimsical and airy as is the pseudo-reflective “Don’t Know.” Both are rarities on an album of incredible highs and jarring lows. The truth of the matter is that while Afropop has gone on to become a global sensation, there is a gaping hole at the heart of the genre that cannot be ignored anymore. That sense of amissness is magnified across the length of ‘5IVE’: the ideas are undercooked or incoherent and, too often, stumble to a finish line that elicits a sigh of relief rather than the transcendental elation that the best Davido songs used to hold a promise of.