Happy Talk About It day.
From the obsoleteness of Blackberry phones, CDs and boot-cut trousers, to petrol currently being sold at about twice its rate in 2008, a few notable things that haven’t changed in the last ten years include Liverpool and Arsenal remaining without league and European titles, respectively, and the instant classic status of M.I’s epoch-making debut Talk About It.
In the years since his triumphant entry with Talk About It, M.I has remained highly influential in the Nigerian hip-hop scene, releasing seven more projects since then, including two albums this year. For breakdown purposes, M.I has four official studio albums, three mixtapes and one playlist project. But since it’s apparent the “Anoti” rapper often treats all his projects with a certain level of care, the main difference being the financial tall order of clearing samples for his mixtapes, it’s definitely not ludicrous to say his tapes deserve to be placed on the same pedestal as his commercial projects. By erasing the line between album and mixtape, the order of M.I’s full-length releases in terms of quality becomes an even more arduous task.
In commemoration of this sacred day of observation for Nigerian hip-hop, myself and fellow M.I expert, and editor/writer at online publication The Urban Central, Nico, ranked all of M.I’s projects from good to best, because a bad M.I album is a myth.
Please try and read through each excerpt in full after scrolling all the way to the bottom to find out the top three or number one, we know that’s what most of you are planning to do. Also, kindly use the comment section in detailing your gripes and grievances, we know there’ll be a few of those, even though this list is perfect.
8. Illegal Music 3: The Finale (2016)
Mere days to the release of Illegal Music 3, M.I suggested on Twitter that Nigerian rappers were playing on the same level, and also capable of competing on the same field as their counterparts in the U.S. Although his statement carried huge amounts of goodwill, you didn’t have to squint to see that M.I’s theory was fundamentally flawed. It was to the ensuing controversy M.I released IM3, a wistful conclusion of the Illegal Music series, and a first attempt at overt introspection that was as intriguing as it was fundamentally flawed.
At its best, IM3 offered profundity (“All Falls Down”) and trademark spots of affection (“The Finale” “The Box”), but with moments of dingy braggadocio, that would have fit in better on former IM entries, weighing it down, it felt like M.I was trying to sell the idea of evolution to listeners without showing the workings completely. For what it’s worth, though, IM3 serves as a transitional project for M.I, marking the end of a storied chapter in the rapper’s career, as well as a new beginning. The tape also served as a reminder of M.I’s lyrical abilities after mixed reactions to his 2014 album The Chairman, displaying his ever sublime gift for gab on standouts like “Everything I have Seen” and “Remember Me.” While IM3 doesn’t set any new precedents, it is a strong showing from M.I that also strongly hints towards the rapper’s personal growth. – Dennis
7. The Chairman (2014)
If you ask M.I, he’d tell you The Chairman is his best studio album till date—he said that much during the infamous Loose Talk Podcast episode, and also reiterated the same sentiment in an interview with Guardian Life for a recent profile piece. In following up with the reason for his affinity and high regard, M.I often cites the collaborative process that went into creating the album. While M.I seems to be tied to a utopian idea based on the developing stages of the album, judging mainly off the music comprising The Chairman, I respectfully disagree—and I’m definitely not alone. Till date, no M.I album has undergone half the amount of slander as The Chairman has, and while that reaction is often times overstated, it’s not for nothing.
The Chairman is an album where the idea of it isn’t always matched by perfect execution. With a famed tracklist of songs with opposing titles, The Chairman suffers from being a little too tethered to a concept, even though it is a great concept, leading to few duds that should have been cut (“Wheelbarrow” “Beg”). The common critique of The Chairman is that of being ‘too commercial,’ which can be very misleading for three reasons: 1) M.I’s intention to control a flipped hip-hop economy from within at the time, 2) the simple fact that it is impossible to make an insular album with so many guest artists, and 3) the same overly poppy production is some of the best of M.I’s career, which also gives the album its apt, grandiose feel. While it may not be at his best, lyrically—there are some really inane lines on there—M.I’s pen is more delightful than not. Besides, there’s nary a featured rapper that leaves M.I in the dust, proof that even on a day that’s not his best, the short black boy is still a force to be reckoned with. – Dennis
6. Illegal Music 1 (2009)
While Rappers today call projects mixtapes or playlists so as to release material they don’t want to be judged by, it’s nice to cast one’s mind back to a time when a Mixtape in Hip-Hop was a Dapper Dan approach to music making, which involved repurposing instrumentals, lopping witty lyrics, and giving that work to the masses for free. The precedent is felt as Illegal Music 1 begins. Apart from establishing a series that would require a monumental effort to dislodge from the Nigerian Hip-Hop hall of fame, it is a snapshot into the Lil Wayne dominated Punchline rap era, a time when rappers could get away with saying stuff like “I could tell it’s my time sorta like a clock.” Songs off IM1 went viral and so did the quips, which effortlessly elicited chuckles, while a couple haven’t quite aged well. M.I himself addressed the comparisons to Lil Wayne on “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” but you can’t tell me a bar like “must be because I drop shit like an anus” is going to help your cause. The truth is we didn’t care at that point because for a mixtape, Illegal Music 1 was, and still is, smooth.
M.I knew he created a monster with “Safe,” and a part of the project feels like him trying to recreate that moment to varying results. “Gbono Feli” comes complete with puns and name-dropping, the latter of which occasioned the spat with Kelly Handsome. A portion of the project is a mixed bag where we find some of M.I’s most uninspired rapping. Case in point is “Beautiful,” a song that is either an attempt to personify recreational drugs, or a tepid effort at seduction as he raps “lay you down flat like a table.” There’s an evident balance of competition and camaraderie between M.I and the rappers who feature on the tape which results in three of the best songs on the project (“Feeling Good” “Choc Boiz” “Rize”). Years later, IM1 still benefits from nostalgia when isolated, but when compared with Monsieur Abaga’s discography, it only surpasses two of his releases. – Nico
5. Rendezvous (2018)
The career of an artist is punctuated by achievements, criticisms, and more importantly, experimentation. The latter of which is often an escape from the hamster wheel of a standardized approach. Despite serving as an appetizer to hold fans over until the highly anticipated Yxng Dxnzl, Rendezvous is where M.I Abaga achieves this breakaway, taking the approach usually reserved for the Illegal Music series and concocting what has been aptly described as a ‘simply fun album.’ The album has it all: pristine production, enjoyability and even the now customary snippet/teaser type song.
While not bogged down with an overarching theme, Rendezvous is instead embedded with tracks that are mood specific; one has to listen carefully to tag them appropriately, though, because the boastful nature of hip-hop can, upon certain listens, make the album ride like an assortment of “gra gra” raps. The album sequencing does aid digestion, case in point is the Moelogo-assisted bop “One Way” is delicately nestled between the “gra gra” rap trifecta of “Kososhi,” “Your Father” and “On Code.” An M.I project isn’t complete without a satirical take on a prevalent issue, “Lekki”, featuring Odunsi, Falz and Ajebutter22, continues the trend traceable to Talk About It deep cut “Money” and “My Belle My Head” off M.I 2. Rendezvous is also a reference point for one of M.I Abaga’s fortes; the ability to pick collaborators with the same precision with which Mesut Ozil picks a final pass. If M.I Abaga’s discography was to be represented by fruits, Rendezvous would be a bunch of ripe Bananas connected to a stem but capable of being separated hassle free. – Nico
4. Talk About It (2008)
Arriving when Nigerian Rap music was in a transition, Talk About It managed to simultaneously garner M.I accusations that he was a “sell out” and that he was Naija’s rap Messiah. Whatever divide you fall into, it is tough to argue against the fact that Talk About It coherently balances cringe-worthy bite-sized one-liners, celebrity and designer name-dropping, lyricism that stuck to Rap’s ethos and social commentary, catchy call and response choruses, all in digestible chunks on the way to becoming the poster boy for highly accessible Nigerian English Rap albums. Talk About It was the full blown fever that “Safe” was symptomatic of.
In hindsight, Talk About It began a tradition now witnessed across M.I’s projects: attention to detail and picking partnerships. Referring to the guests on Talk About it as features is a disservice to the partnerships that appear across the album: Gabriel and General Pype accentuate “Anoti” and “Teaser” respectively. You’d have to go to Warren G and Nate Dogg’s “Regulate” to find worthy competition for M.I and Y.Q’s effort on “Area,” a song which gave us an evergreen caption for anyone who feels aggrieved at not winning the next rate award in the form of the glorious quip “so what if we don’t win cars, we’ll buy them.” And then there’s a pre-fame Wizkid putting the “Fast Money Fast Cars” chorus in a body bag. 10 years down the line, he’s won the coveted Headies Lyricist on The Roll award, graced billboards, and there’s the “Greatest Podcast You ever done in your life” incident. While not M.I’s best body of work, M.I is in GOAT conversations now and it’s all traceable to the domino effect of dropping Talk About It. – Nico
3. A Study On Self Evaluation: Yxng Dxnzl (2018)
Even before its arrival, there was a marked difference between Yxng Dxnzxl and M.I’s last couple studio efforts, mainly based on importance. Not to say those preceding projects lacked any gravitas—they all served their purposes quite well—but Yxng Dxnzxl obviously outweighs them all, easily being his most important since his sophomore album M.I 2: The Movie. But where the pressure of his 2010 offering was mostly from outside, revolving around him being able to match or surpass the blockbuster status of his debut album, it’s clearly more personal for the rapper on Yxng Dxnzxl. From the extended wait and constant pushbacks to scraping the entire first draft of the album, to unorthodox choices of song titles, everything about Yxng Dxnzxl lives on and thrives off M.I’s interiority.
While M.I has been known to live his truths and imperfections on wax, there’s an alarming level of candidness, in the best way possible, informing the introspective approach of Yxng Dxnzl. In its topical timeliness and apparent urgency, M.I includes self-effacing information that humanizes him shamelessly, organically spinning these perceived weaknesses into strengths, on the way to creating a highly resonant body of work. Even at its most ego-driven (“+-” “I Believe In You”), the M.I on Yxng Dxnzxl isn’t as bothered by competition as he is by self-assurance, which leads to some of the most compelling material of his career thus far. Pristinely crafted and pulling up at just north of a half hour, Yxng Dxnzxl is a concise and laser-focused effort, an essential, if slightly imperfect, document of M.I’s personal growth primed to age like fine wine. – Dennis
2. Illegal Music 2 (2012)
Although M.I came out swinging with his debut album and mixtape, it was only a precursor to what was coming next. “Somebody Wants to Die,” a loose single prior to the rollout of M.I’s sophomore album, and also featuring a magnetic verse by label mate Ice Prince, marked the beginning of a rapper in peak condition. In a breathless display of lyricism, M.I threw down a stupendous haymaker with “Somebody Wants to Die,” grabbing the thumping beat by its neck and performing as many fatality moves as he could fit in. And while this rapper glow definitely transfers into M.I 2: The Movie and a couple of other great guest appearances, the rawness of that rare form bottlenecks on Illegal Music 2, a more assured, more gripping, and a far more momentous predecessor in comparison with the first instalment.
“Did you miss me?/While I was gone, did anyone eclipse me?/Gist me,” M.I smugly raps, borderline cocky, on the first bars of IM2. Throughout IM2, M.I raps like an artist who believes in his own hype, exuding the regal aura of a god walking amongst mere mortals. And he had every right. Following the seismic success of his sophomore album, he was undoubtedly operating at a level most rappers only dreamed of, and he was so arrogant about it that he addressed critics of M.I.2 with gusto on the very first single “Lost.” To be plain, IM2 has a lot of the best raps M.I has ever given the world, from the glorious, self-exhorting couplets on “Do I Move You,” to the dazzling number of tell-offs encased in a delightful, whimsical flow on “Fuck You,” which features one of the most memorable Ice Prince verses ever. There’s a shit tonne of great guest verses, mostly from barely/fairly known names at the time, including killer features by XO Senavoe, Loose Kannon and Boogey, but M.I undoubtedly remains the star of the show. – Dennis
1. M.I 2: The Movie (2010)
A Magnum Opus is judged by several metrics, chief of which is important. In the mosaic of M.I’s discography, his sophomore attempt is the most important piece, and most likely the most momentous of his illustrious career so far—“My marketer said I did a milli in the east,” M.I rapped on IM2’s “Lost.” The legacy of a well-received debut can outweigh even Atlas’ burden, except you are M.I Abaga and you top it. Where Talk About It still basked in some level of foreign appeal, M.I 2 gallantly reflects the fusion of Rap and Nigerian Sounds. At times, it felt like Ruggedman’s “Ruggedy Baba” walked so some of the songs on M.I 2 could fly. The album boasts its strengths in the ability of the songs to grasp the mind firmly; you can see the steam oozing out of the freshly served Nkwobi on the Flavour-assisted “Number one,” which, apart from providing a huge crossover hit, is a precursor to Show Dem Camp’s currently successful “Palm Wine” Music brand of Hip-Hop.
M.I is energetic yet tantalizing from the beginning of the album, where he uses three different sets of delicate two syllabic rhyme schemes on each verse of “Action Film,” while Brymo’s chorus is the trigger that makes the song a speeding bullet you can’t dodge, a solid dose of adrenaline that makes you want to flip tables. Rap Music is often best when it is contemplative and “Nobody” continued that tradition while simultaneously giving M.I room to muse upon one of the trappings of life: criticism. Waje assists M.I to capture love on standout “One Naira,” a song that epitomizes the William Faulkner quote “you like because and you love despite.” “Beef” is a playful yet graphic put down directed towards folks who were feuding with him, while the eLDee influence is palpable on the chorus to the poignant and still relevant “Wild Wild West.”
Over an assortment of inch-perfect beats, M.I’s ability to enunciate words and his penchant for details are all on display, but the cinematic feel to the album is enhanced by his ability to make music. So it is not surprising that chorus to “My Head My Belle” uses a catchphrase from iconic Nigerian sitcom Jagua as a springboard into the lives of a struggling yet determined youth, an Omo’ta, and a typical Sergeant Roger, all coalescing into a gripping microcosm of the Nigerian condition. The album grips so tightly that the ball is rarely dropped, with “Anybody” being the closest thing to a turnover. The experience crescendos on the four-song stretch that closes out the album, evidenced by “Represent,” which is arguably the best Choc Boiz song, bossed by an untouchable Jargo who effortlessly finds a fantastic pocket for a stupid flow over the triumphant drums. If the last track “Unstoppable” comes across to you as an appreciative roll call, know that it is deliberate; smash movies, like M.I 2, are after all expected to end with a closing montage. – Nico