There’s no shortage of talent in Afropop. The scene brims with gifted artists shaping the genre’s trajectory with distinct identities and sonic innovation. Yet, only a few possess the magnetism and force of personality to command attention like true superstars. Ruger, however, is cut from a different cloth. Right from the moment he emerged on the music scene –  pirate-esque eye patch covering one eye, pink-dyed hair and an aura that felt instinctive – he carried himself with the assuredness of someone who had always known he was destined for stardom.

Even beyond his commanding presence and showmanship, Ruger possesses a sonic malleability and fluidity that makes him one of the few artists injecting new life into Nigerian Pop. Since his 2021 breakout hit “Bounce,” he has built a catalogue that leans heavily into Dancehall’s rhythmic elasticity, making it a core tenet of his artistic identity. That connection to Dancehall isn’t incidental. Ruger is a natural successor in a lineage of Nigerian artists who have long folded the genre’s DNA into their music, from percussive grits of the Konto and Galala architects – Marvelous Benji, Danfo Drivers, African China, and Stereoman – who, in the late 1990s and early 2000s, morphed its cadence into homegrown street sounds; to Cynthia Morgan, Patoranking, Timaya, and Burna Boy, who have ensured that the genre’s imprint in Nigerian Pop remained unmissable.

With ‘Pandemic,’ his debut EP, and its follow-up, ‘The Second Wave,’ Ruger fashioned himself into a swashbuckling maverick, laced his music with profanities, and delivered it all with a devil-may-care embrace of hedonism. By the time he had stamped himself as both a hitmaker and one of Afropop’s most assured new voices, his debut album, ‘Ru The World,’ crested that peak in his artistry and firmly stands as a totem of his artistic ambitions. 

As 2024 rolled in, Ruger severed ties with D’Prince’s Jonzing World and stepped into a new phase with the launch of his new imprint, “Blown Boy Entertainment.” Since then, the pink-haired hitmaker has operated with even greater autonomy and continues to push his artistry further while embracing a bolder sense of self. In a moment that caught many off guard, he put aside his publicised online feud with BNXN to deliver the surprise joint EP, ‘RnB’ in 2024. Even before his latest project, ‘BlownBoy Ru,’ Ruger remained relentless, consistently rolling out melodic, club-ready records that reinforced his knack for crafting undeniable anthems. A collaboration with Tiwa Savage on the pre-released “Toma Toma” saw him tapping into the raw, percussion-heavy bounce of Baile Funk.

For every young Nigerian artist who grew up with the odds stacked against them, the ultimate dream is to “blow” – to cement a place in the saturated industry and extend their reach beyond borders. Ruger is one of those dreamers who made it happen. Now, with his sophomore album, ‘BlownBoy Ru,’ Ruger affirms an undeniable truth. He has blown, and nearly five years after his first hit single, there’s no question about it.

Much of the sonic architecture of ‘BlownBoy Ru’ is engineered by Kukbeatz, the longtime producer behind Ruger’s sound since his breakout, ensuring that his Dancehall-inflected style remains both distinct and immersive. That chemistry is on full display from the album’s opener, “REintroduction,” a fiery, chest-thumping song where Ruger reasserts his dominance over a propulsive Dancehall rhythm.

His patois-laced delivery oozes bravado as he declares, “Right from SS3, that’s when I knew that I’m gonna be a big star,” with the assurance of someone who has always had sight of the bigger picture. That rhythmic switch-up toward the song’s outro – where the hard-edged groove gives way to a Northern band’s chant-like refrain – is a deliberate moment of expansiveness and a nod to the growing wave of Northern sonic influences seeping into mainstream Nigerian Pop. 

The balance between familiarity and expansion is a recurring motif that runs through “BlownBoy Ru.” At its core, the album thrives on Ruger’s ability to craft irresistible earworms that reflect his  swaggering bravado and romantic entanglements. “Muah”(Soulmates) is a prime example: a scintillating, slow bop peppered with sensual guitar riffs that see Ruger play the smooth-talking lover boy trying to woo a love interest. “Baby nwa, tell me the reason why / Why you no wan kiss muah?” he sings, his delivery laidback but insistent. He swaps the smooth-talker persona for outright flexing. “Giveaway” finds him teaming up with Zlatan over a drilled-out beat. “Na mint full my jeans / We dey do giveaway,” he boasts, but it’s Zlatan who steals the show. It’s a track that highlights one of Ruger’s strengths: knowing when to let his collaborators shine without losing control of the song’s momentum.

Still, even in his most boastful moments, there’s an undeniable self-awareness of his playboy persona on the pre-released “Jay Jay” – named after the Nigerian football legend, Jay-Jay Okocha – he draws a parallel between his smooth navigation of romance and the ex-footballer’s dazzling footwork on the pitch. “She asking, ‘Boy, what are we?’ / We better be what we have been,”  he croons with his voice coasting over the punchy Dancehall groove. It’s a sentiment he circles back to on “Dudu,” a slow-wine of a track that sees him trade verses with the Jamaican Dancehall singer Kranium, to craft a late-night burner soaked in hedonistic indulgence. Yet, despite his insistence on keeping affections surface-level, vulnerability flickers in the shadows. On “Rub Minds,” he lets his guard down and craves something deeper: “Send me your location, baby / Maybe make I rub minds with you.”

There’s an undeniable pull toward regret on “Wish You Well,” featuring the Jamaican Dancehall star Valiant. Ruger wishes an ex-lover well, even as the emotions in his voice betray the pretense of moving on. That thread of romantic reckoning continues on the moodier cut, “Toro,” a slow but memorable Afropop jam where he acknowledges his faults and pleads for reconciliation. If the album’s first part is littered with sexual indulgence, its second is shaded with the reality that even the smoothest playboy isn’t immune to heartbreak.

The album doesn’t shy away from its more unfiltered moments. “99”  is heavily laced with profanity. On “Runaway,” which enlists Reggae and Dancehall act Haile, he finds himself stuck in the throes of a toxic relationship. The striking verses peppered with log drums give the track an urgent, kinetic pulse. That braggadocio returns full throttle on “Hell Cat,” where Ruger channels his patois delivery once again.

On album closer “BlownBoy Anthem,” Ruger steps into full disclosure mode with the Kukbeatz-produced track. First teased as a freestyle in the wake of his departure from Jonzing World, the track is a gloves-off reckoning with his journey so far – his wins, his lessons, and the steadfast self-belief that has carried him through. The song’s most cutting moment arrives when he sings, “And I denounce every loyalty to some godfather, This year I’m about me.” It is a line that is perhaps intended as a direct shot to his former label boss. As an artist that is ever attuned to pop culture references, Ruger taps into the viral mantra that became the unofficial slogan of 2024 – “No gree for anybody” – when he sings “This year we no go gree for anybody, Pa, pa, pow for anybody.”

Ruger’s choice of collaborators on ‘BlownBoy Ru’  is as deliberate as his artistic direction. His Dancehall-inflected sound has long positioned him as a bridge between Nigerian Pop and the Caribbean’s rhythmic lineage, and here, he deepens that connection. The presence of Kranium, Valiant, and Haile reveals his commitment to a sonic identity that thrives on Dancehall’s pulsating energy. Longtime collaborator Kukbeatz also plays a crucial role in ensuring Ruger’s signature sound remains intact, but this time, the production stretches its limbs, exploring sharper drum patterns, and an expanded palette that dips into R&B, Brazilian funk, and drill. 

And yet, for all its sonic influences, ‘BlownBoy Ru,’ is unmistakably a Ruger album, draped in his signature mix of sensuality, vulgarity, and the kind of unfiltered braggadocio that has long been Ruger’s trademark sound. But this time, there’s more braggadocio, more chest-thumping, and a sharper assertion of self.  At times, this confidence teeters into unsettling territory. On “Jay Jay,” he shrugs off emotional entanglements when he sings, “If a girl worry me, I delete her / Put her inside the bin bag.” It is a jarring line that makes his smooth-talking bravado feel more callous than playful, and one that drew loud criticism from female listeners, who found it insensitive especially considering the gender-based violence that continues to pervade Nigerian society. Still, at its core, ‘BlownBoy Ru’ sidesteps the dreaded sophomore slump with a bold and cohesive body of work that encapsulates the thrill, turbulence, romance, and victories that come with rapid ascent. A reflection of a young pop star moving with certainty and fully in control of his craft.