I love DJ albums, there’s no better way to listen to party music than through a DJ’s headphones, watch a crowd move to it than from inside the DJ booth and feel the pulse of that crowd than through the needle of their turntables.
But before I listen to one, I always wonder how involved the DJ was in the process of making the music. Did s/he bring artists together in the studio and play an active role in the process or just collect ready-made records, shout themselves out at the beginning and at the end of each one, and slap their name on the final package? In other words, was the car truly made in Nigeria or were the parts just assembled in a local factory?
DJ Spinall wants you to know that he’s as hands-on as they come – the DJ controlled the theme, tone and tenor of Ten, his second album in two years. He produced 3 of the album’s 11 tracks, the first is a nearly one minute-long piano solo that serves as the “Intro” and the precursor to a contrastingly upbeat album. The second is “100” which upholds the numbering scheme theme of Ten, by raising it to the power of 2. The song also raises its 2 contributors, Sarkodie and Yung L, out of Accra and Lagos respectively and into the Bay Area, with its thick basslines and heavy keys. And the third is “Love You”, a tropical house record that Patoranking – the Music Councillor – carried all by himself. I’m happy to be proven wrong but DJ’s don’t usually get this involved on their albums. Then again, I’m not sure whether ‘production’ means actual beat-making or song arrangement or providing music direction or even all 3. But either way, DJ Spinall’s involvement on Ten is as visible as his signature multi-colored caps. This approach makes Ten feel very intentional, like it was purposely made for a DJ performance, rather than some randomly assembled playlist of artist’s leftovers that DJ albums can sound like at times.
Another pitfall of the standard DJ album that Ten avoids is (over)crowding. Hip-hop DJ’s, for instance, don’t mind having 3+ guests on the same song but Ten keeps guests to a 2-artist maximum – that way your ears aren’t dragged in too many directions in less than 4 minutes. With the exception of “Zebede”, by Dremo and Koker, those 2 artists are usually 1 newbie and 1 established act. So on “Package”, there’s a producer who also wants recognition as an artist in Del’b on the same track with an established superstar like Davido. On “Chop Life”, there’s a Byno, whose biggest accolade is winning a social media contest, and an Iceprince who’s won BET and Headies galore. And on “Don’t Stop”, there’s Shaydee – who isn’t a newbie but hasn’t exactly “blown” either – being paired with Falz, whose profile keeps on rising. So if you pressed play on the records only to listen to Ice lay a verse about how great his life is or to listen to Falz describe how he gets a hard-on from dancing, you get what you want – but you also get to hear 2 criminally underrated vocalists in action. One of the tenets of hip-hop DJ’ing, is that DJ’s have a responsibility to break new artists, and there’s no better way than pairing them this way. DJ Spinall is more pop-leaning, so he isn’t beholden to those rules but it’s good to see him conform anyway.
Ten also contains a number of impressive solo records, if Ceeza didn’t have an inflection and delivery similar to Wizkid’s on “Bubble For Me”, that song would have been the most eye-catching. On other solo records, artists from different regions of Africa bring their specific flavors but still leave enough room for the records to be played in countries outside of there’s. So Niniola brings her very specific house sensibilities expressed in Yoruba on “Ojukokoro” but Illkeyz infuses African percussions to give the song a more continental feel. Also, Sauti Sol perform a lot of the swaggering love song “Holiday” in their native Swahili but not so much that you’d be chopping mouth if you were singing along to it anywhere outside of Nairobi. And you do not have to understand Twi or appreciate Ghanaian pidgin in order to understand that Mr Eazi was referring to a young lady that caught his eye on the slow-burning “Ohema”. When people say the music they play is “Afropop”, I believe this is what it should sound like – inclusively African, unashamedly pop.
Given their position as the custodians of the sounds of a time, it’s not surprising that this broader interpretation of the Afropop genre is being utilized by a DJ. But it’s not just any DJ, DJ Spinall is a DJ who’s hell-bent on setting himself apart from a crowded field of his peers who also release studio albums periodically.