There’s usually a prevailing narrative heading into every one of Wizkid’s albums. In 2017,  months before the release of his stateside debut ‘Sounds From The Other Side,’ there was a major sense that the Lagos-born singer was looking to expand his reach and find success abroad after years of local dominance. This made perfect sense, as the previous year had seen him gradually transition from Afropop mainstay to rising global star after securing an “Ojuelegba” remix with Skepta and Drake, and guesting on the latter’s global smash hit “One Dance” just months later. When the album finally arrived, the music gave credence to the overarching narrative that had preceded its release. And while the project didn’t help Wizkid fully achieve the sort of crossover success he might have hoped for, it showcased the beginnings of a sonic evolution that would help usher in a new era for the superstar. 

Unlike its predecessor, 2020’s ‘Made In Lagos’ arrived on the back of a slightly precarious notion. ‘Sounds From The Otherside’s failure to resonate at home or abroad created the sense that there was little room for error on ‘Made In Lagos.’ Even though Wizkid’s legacy was already secure at this point, another lukewarm project would have raised concerns about his position at the apex of Afropop’s pyramid, especially as a new vanguard of hugely talented popstars was quickly emerging. ‘Made In Lagos’’ far-reaching success, however, dispelled any doubts about the singer, as he captivated fans and a new global audience with his lustrous fusion of Afropop and R&B. 

‘Morayo,’ Wizkid’s latest studio album, comes a little over a year after the singer lost his mum. The album title, which was revealed months ago, hinted at a pensive, perhaps reverential body of work that would memorialize his late mother. There was also the infamous Instagram rant from earlier in the year where the singer denounced Afrobeats and urged fans who longed for his “Pakurumo” days to not “download this new album.” This stirred speculation that Wizkid no longer wanted to be confined to the perceived restrictions of Afropop – a genre that’s basically synonymous with his name at this point – and that he could be heading in a new musical direction on his latest album. Wizkid, however, has never really been one to stick with the themes or concepts that his album titles might suggest. 

‘Made In Lagos,’ for all its success, has little in common with the city it claims to take inspiration from. ‘More Love, Less Ego,’ the languid follow-up to his magnum opus, also does very little to address or explore the proverb-like mandate of the album’s title. So it’s no surprise ‘Morayo’ isn’t so much a eulogy, as it is another routine addition to his ever-expanding oeuvre. The record is bookended by vulnerable numbers: on album opener “Troubled Mind,” Wizkid admits to feelings of agitation and unrest, singing “Say, the blood for my eye and the pain for my mind, mo le ṣàlàyé,” over slow drums. And on the poignant “Pray,” the album’s final track, Wizkid also sings about his mum’s ceaseless prayers, even in the afterlife; but these kinds of moments are few and far between on an album many expected to be an homage to the woman whose wisdom, influence and in some cases, actual words, have had a huge presence in the singer’s music. 

Sonically, the album also doesn’t stray far from what Wizkid has been making in recent times. In fact, a more cynical listener might argue that there hasn’t been much progression or innovation in his work over the last few years. But then again, anyone who has been following Wizkid closely would have known to take that early year Instagram rant with a pinch of salt.

In truth, grief and loss are complex emotions that can be processed in a myriad of ways. On ‘Morayo,’ Wizkid seems to find solace in what works, mostly drawing on familiar themes like love, lust and his hedonistic excesses to once again create an intricate and lustrous musical experience. This is in part thanks to P2J, Wizkid’s trusted producer whose distinctive percussive patterns and preference for wind instruments have come to define the popstar’s sound in the last few years. The lead single “Piece Of My Heart” which features Brent Faiyaz, is a pristine two-part duet that benefits largely from the R&B star’s inclusion as well as P2J’s thumping drums. “Bad For You,” which features another American R&B stalwart Jazmine Sullivan, is also immaculate in its composition, as both singers coast nicely over P2J’s lush instrumentation. 

Other collaborations on the album achieve mixed results. “Après Minuit” with French rapper and singer Tiakola is a vibrant and breezy number that is sure to slither into the Francophone airwaves while “Slow” with Canada-based Gabonese singer Anaïs Cardot – who appeared on Asake’s ‘Lungu Boy’ earlier in the year – is a smooth, whispery affair perfect for soundtracking late nights and intimate experiences. “Bad Girl,” with Asake, however, doesn’t quite land, unlike its Grammy-nominated predecessor “MMS.”  Elsewhere, Wizkid looks to rekindle some of the dynamism that made him the foremost hitmaker in the country early on in his career, punctuating the album with a number of zippy club bangers like the pre-released “Kese (Dance),” “Soji,” and “Bend” which brings to mind his *checks notes* “Pakurumo” days. 

“A Million Blessings,” a cinematic cut that sits in the middle of the album, is perhaps its best offering. It opens up with elegant violin strings that set the stage nicely for Wizkid’s silky-smooth flow. The veteran singer takes stock of his blessings while also reasserting his standing amongst his peers. “I’ve heard a million stories,” he sings melodiously on the pre-chorus. Wizkid, however, rarely drops his veneer of cool on the album long enough for these stories to manifest into anything beyond endless braggadocio and prosaic lines that tell us nothing new about the veteran even after all these years.