“I’m the best rapper that this country has to offer,” Alpha rapped self-assuredly on “Vendetta,” his charged reply to M.I’s controversial “You Rappers Should Fix Up Your Lives”. As opposed to many other rappers who were simply content with hurling stones at the man on top of the mountain with their “Fix Up” replies, “Vendetta” was a statement: Alpha is plotting his way to the top of the same mountain, his own damn self.
It is one thing to talk a good game, boasting is implanted in rap’s DNA, it’s another to have the talent and dedication to back it up. Being a multifaceted artist counting writing his own raps, making his own beats and also handling post-production amongst his tools, Alpha’s toolbox is as formidable as it is enviable. These skills, ever improving, have been flaunted on previous projects to varying degrees; freewheeling, quotable-loaded lyricism is packed into his Road to R.U.S.H mixtape, and an experimental side with regards to sound selection, coupled with improved storytelling abilities is exhibited on the 2015 follow-up EP, My Own Horns – The JazzRap Project.
Talent doesn’t always equal immediate success, and bills don’t care about dreams. Two projects brimming with promise didn’t translate into a path paved in gold and/or littered with roses, so working a 9 to 5 became an essential recourse for Alpha’s survival, while passively nursing lofty ambitions during a period marked by limited time and attention to make music, directly effecting a lengthy drought with no new releases from him. “Vendetta” (sorta) coincided with Alpha’s return to the rap game, and in hindsight, it seems fair to say serendipity played a massive part – the drama did help gain plays and increase Alpha’s notoriety, in hip-hop circles at the very least – but it is also very fair to say Alpha was ready to cease his opportunity, it just happened to wrap itself in a provocation. (Like my friend Nico often quips, “The universe is rarely ever lazy.”)
At the moment, Alpha still has his work cut out for him before he enters the realm of ubiquity or conversations regarding the upper tier of Nigerian rappers. The independent release of his debut album, Half Price, last Monday (July 30th), serves as a committed leap up the proverbial mountain. Climbing higher means the stakes attached to Half Price are equally set at an all-time high, especially as it’s Alpha’s first project in 3years and the one with the most eyes on him, yet. It’s a fact Alpha tacitly acknowledges, spinning the sweeping the nature of this task into an incentive to boldly display as many facets of his artistry as he can fit into the album’s 12songs.
Self-worth is the prominent theme at heart of Half Price. “To know me, you gotta owe,” Alpha bellows on opener “Award Winning Intro,” chucking the deuces to “How would you like to be shortchanged in exchange for your last work?,” a question asked at the earlier on the track. The hostility, intensified by helter-skelter production, is striking without bordering on bitterness since the external aggression at being undervalued is matched by Alpha’s equally searing purpose to raise the bar. How else does Alpha plan on getting “retaliation for the links I clicked that turned out wack as fuck” if not by making and putting out better music? By holding himself to high standards worthy of the high value he expects, Alpha’s expectations of full price from the industry is equally distributed, and firm in resolve.
The siege mentality crosses over into the title track – a slick, standout cut featuring a solid hook by Fortune Angelo – on which Alpha reiterates the same ideals in more defined terms, weaving in brag lines and toying with the idea of “a rap album with no choruses” that would be so dope the industry would have no choice but recognize and eventually cede to his talent. All factors considered – a currently flailing market for rap music in the country and the music industry’s renowned expertise in fucking newcomers over – Alpha’s politics might be imperfect, but the audacity in pledging his allegiance to the grind (word to Killer Mike) is admirable, since it’s expressly backed up by a skillset that gives his vision additional feasibility.
Originally thrown out as a loosie and not included on the initial tracklist with 10songs, “Ludo”’s appearance in the midsection of Half Price proves to be a stellar inclusion simply because it’s a stellar song with a figure eight performance. The hook is very memorable and the beat knocks adequately, but it’s the transfixing, thoroughly enjoyable display of lyricism that holds sway. Alpha’s moonwalks over the beat, nonchalantly accentuating the intricacy of the rhymes in both verses, where nearly every line doubles both as setups for the next line and as a punchlines themselves. The precision is so remarkable that an inescapable, silly one-liner about a flaccid phallus works way more than it should.
Scanning his writing more closely, Alpha can come across as a technician first, and a stylist second. Not much is wrong with that order, since the natural coolness trickling from Alpha’s voice is a fantastic bridge. But the few times dissonance sets in, it happens when Alpha manipulates lines for extra paperweight points and gravitas, tending to explain an image after it’s been evoked already. For example, “he’s on throne already/or maybe on the side of the queen” is glib, and “my verses be killing y’all, 6ft/I ain’t even have to dig deep” is counter effective because 6feet is deep. In these instances, it’s as if Alpha is trying to prove why he’s having fun, instead of simply having fun. When it’s the latter, Alpha simply shows without bothering much about telling, deftly matching technique with a recognizable, organic confidence in the light coloring of his flow, inflections and even adlibs – Alpha sounds unhinged in the best way possible.
The kinematic “Black Magic” owes its effectiveness to how joyfully belligerent Alpha is, savagely trolling and taunting whatever he feels like, from hit-chasing rappers who “want a beat like “Panda”,” down to himself (“never really had shit/still don’t have shit”). A similar level of exuberance colors “Yahooboy Muzik,” an excellent cut detailing the fictional tale of an internet fraudster. Told from first person POV, Alpha’s storytelling is notably vivid and somewhat expansive, exploring the primary character’s psyche in relation with the tumbling order of events. Alpha uses humor as a tool to ease the tautness of portraying a typically hot button issue, successfully sidestepping being judge, jury or executioner. With the amount of vocal ticks and tricks applied, it’s safe to assume Alpha rehearsed every line a substantial amount of times before committing it to wax. But “Yahooboy Muzik” is bolstered because it sounds like all of it was effortlessly laid down in one take (including those fire adlibs), akin to kicking a casual gist with the added incentive of a stomping beat with undeniable bounce.
Doubling as the sole producer of the album, Alpha’s favored tools are distinct – piano chords, interjecting horn riffs played digitally (I can only wonder how much harder production would sound had there been a bigger budget to accommodate live instruments) and pulsating synths mixed with the occasional percussions – but his technique behind the boards works in service of musical variety. While the sonic exploration of My Own Horns is not entirely abandoned, the production on Half Price mostly centers on configuration, reinforcing the idea of each song, and also inherently underscoring the need for reach beyond his current core of supporters. Alpha may not entirely “give a fuck about the mainstream,” but there are solid attempts at getting radio airplay (“Love Clouds” “Sour”) and slipping into DJ party sets (“Still Got It” “Boli & Fish”). Diversifying the portfolio for accessibility is a sign of Alpha’s versatility, while still rapping at a respectable level, even on songs draped in maximum gloss.
Diversity reduces cohesion on Half Price, to a harmless extent, though, the album works really well as full length listen and transitions between tracks are far from shabby. The switch from “Yahooboy Muzik” to “Love Clouds” finely illustrates improvisation in sequencing, the pomp from the former empties into the latter momentarily before the beat flips and settles into a more soothing form of itself. Featuring elegant singing and lilting harmonies by Tomi Owo and intermittent interpolations of Erykah Badu’s “On & On”, “Love Clouds” is as mushy as its title suggests, the intimacy is well worn by Alpha; he uses the word “cereal” and finds space for a Kevin Hart namedrop without being corny.
In stark contrast to its swinging start, Half Price closes at its pinnacle of vulnerability with the first single off the album, “Butterflies.” TOD dumps the autotune wrapped around her voice on “Still Got It” in favor of soulful, heartfelt crooning, acting as the lightening pole for Alpha to emote. Using a tense relationship with a jealous girlfriend as a metaphor for the strain between the dream of making music and working a stressful day job to make ends meet, the back-and-forth deals with pent up resentment: music wants to take center stage rather than being relegated to the margins. Alpha harbors his own grievances concerning music’s lack of patience and inconsiderate behavior, but his unbridled love for music blankets his own gripes. As his comeback single, “Butterflies” also doubles as Alpha’s (over the top but necessary) reassurance of commitment, complete with a renewal of vows. All he wants is to be valued as much as he values the craft of making music, a demand riddled with uncertainty. Except Half Price is strong evidence that Alpha is all in and willing to slug it out for every rightful accolade he deems equal to his effort.