At the dawn of the decade, super producer Ikon announced himself on the big stage via Lynxx’s “Change Your Parade,” a smash hit built on synth-heavy production by artist, a song that artist, producer and their Syndic8 imprint on the mainstream map. Ikon would go on to produce Lynxx’s debut album This Is Lynxx, but he goes on to expand his portfolio, including integral work on Show Dem Camp’s The Dreamer Project, and continued involvements in subsequent SDC projects, being the binding force for both Collectiv3 albums, and also contributions to LadiPoe’s recent Talk About Poe.
In recent years, though, Ikon has gone from solely staying behind the boards to getting in front of the mic. A great decision since the now producer-rapper does happen to be really nice at rapping. Teaming up with Black Magic, as The Three Wise Men, Ikon delivered an electrifying performance on “Bastard,” an eternal jam and one of the best raps songs of the decade. Going off “Bastard” alone, many became eager for Ikon’s full 360 into rapping, and the hype continued to brew with an assured verse on The Collectiv3’s “Akintunde,” a bone-chilling 16 on Show Dem Camp’s “Respect My Name,” and a vivacious link-up with Poe on “Delilah,” off Live. Create. Repeat.
Talk of an Ikon full-length debut has been going around for a long minute, a project with a notoriously elusive mythical value, a Nigerian version of Dr Dre’s Detox. Today sees the release of Ikon’s long-awaited album—thank the heavens—titled Hungry To Live (An Audio Documentary.) On the virtual streets of the internet, there’s no fever high anticipation prior to today, the album was only announced a few days ago after all, but for anyone who’s been keeping an eye on Ikon’s sparse releases, an itch is about to be scratched today.
With the only musical hint for Hungry To Live coming on “Solomon,” an stellar, avant-rap song with traditional folk influences from Ikon’s hometown, released back in 2016, the mystic surrounding this album is mainly positive. While Ikon has set the bar high with “Solomon,” there’s little chance he’s spent this much time crafting a low-level body of work. Enough of the imaginations, the album is here, let me allow the music do the talking.
From here on, all you’ll read is my reaction to each song in real time. No skips, no pauses, no rewinds.
Boats
9 songs is short, Ikon. But 33minutes is basically the same length as Palmwine Music 2. Opening skit. This piano has the heaviness of early morning fog in harmattan, drums are knocking gentle. This buildup is killing. Ikon is in, early bars are grabbing ones. I’d attend this man’s TED Talk. Quick interpolation of a line from “Bastard.” This song hasn’t exactly settled. Ikon just said this album was inspired by sleep, via his dreams.
On Your Knees (f/ Blink & Funbi)
This is lively. I’m assuming this female voice is Blink, very dollish timbre. These keys have a really big presence, bringing a nice mid-tempo. Ikon has been rapping for a minute, religious bars about the importance of prayer. Horn blasts and Funbi’s angelic just came out of left field, really good stuff. Pastor Ikon is on the podium, he does sound like he’s seen the light. Man, these drums are heavy, you can barely ever go wrong with tribal drums. Male voice rapping, this might be Blink, actually. “Put food in my belle, not my soul/that one na miss road.” A couple of good line in the verse, I like it. Funbi always sounds really good, regardless of whatever he’s singing about, and this pseudo-gospel thing is bringing the radiance.
Grow (f/ Boogey)
Muffled, traditional folk chants. OH SHIT! Nice drop, like two raging bulls running into each other. Haha, mechanics are scum. “The love for the bread breeds evil.” I like this Ikon verse, philosophy Ikon is undefeated. How can I play this song for my bank account, please? This beat has more layers than a red velvet cake. YOOOOO! Ikon is talking about Nigerian politicians’ greed. Ha! Boogey in with the supersonic flow sounds really good. I’ve heard this flow from Boogey before, but it’s good enough to be recycled a million times. Ha! Boogey really doesn’t fuck with Nigerian pastors and the hypocrisy of Nigerians in general.
Solidify
Skit. Ikon is using being stuck in Lagos traffic as a symbol for reaching your destination at the right time, I can fuck with it. Mellow singing over a simple piano line. Beat switch, nice drum knock. Ikon knows how to open his verses, they grab you right from the off. “Benchpressing all my God bars” is a bar I really like. A couple of really good quotables, I like that Fela lyric interpolation. Ikon saying he didn’t believe Lynxxx’s religious pivot is mad honesty, wow. This is a keeper already, enough bars for you to ruminate upon. That Sinzu bar shows how old this song is. Poe on the phone with Ikon, talking about the journey and thanking Ikon for what he’s done for him. This is very endearing. More music, guys, by the way
Solomon
I love this song. Loved it, even more, when I heard this sample came from a funeral ceremony at Ikon’s hometown. Spinning this type of sample into an EDM beat is some level of mastery. The weariness in his voice never wrinkles, the best part is that it also comforts and uplifts. Nigeria’s best attribute is its dream killing quality, trash. Took my hands off my keyboard for a few seconds, this song always gets me. “I believe in God and I believe in Me.” Going from bird to wolf in a matter of minutes always impresses me. Now that Poe phone call just before carries more weight, it’s always great finding your own tribe.
Ships
Fela lyrics from “Sorrow, Tears & Blood” being sung through a vocoder, ear tingling. Fam, Ikon has god-level drum packs! Ikon is painting a picture of Lagos, the debauchery in Lagos is unmatched. This is a performance-ready song. That electric guitar is pure vibes. Yo! Falz just dropped adlibs and I really want a verse. “Some of us we have angels/some of us we have Yoruba” has me rolling! Wow! We all deserve ourselves in this Lagos. I fuck with this second verse, really good. With Ikon’s stage presence, this is going to ring off at December performances. Someone is proposing a toast. This beat is really good, an immediate standout.
Ships Out
A sample submerged under water, groovy. “Maturity isn’t overnight” is a great way to start a letter to someone you love after doing some fuck shit, I think. JAY-Z must have used it, you know. Men are scum sha, last last. Wait, is this song really fading out? I feel betrayed, wow.
Sapele
Winds hovering. Spax tag. Drowsy singing, I’m not really into this song just yet. Ikon is soliciting for us to go back to rural produce, and I’m a little confused. Unless it’s all metaphorical. Okay, I can see the appeal of this, longing for the simple, rustic life. I can’t place this female voice, but her falsetto is giving me life. Oh, this is a love song, nice sequencing from “Ships Out” to “Sapele.” This song is not a favourite, might have to revisit to see if I can like it.
Lost
Jazzy production. Ikon is rapping with vigor. “I work to reach the point where the Grammys cannot ignore me” okay, talk your shit, man. “See how I gave the world “Bastard” without a baby being born” haha. The rapping on “Lost” is really good, not in the intricate lyricist way, but in how every line is remarkable. Ikon’s finger-wagging is swaggy. Beat switch after a short second verse. The double bass might just be the greatest instrument ever made. Ikon on the phone with someone we can’t hear. Uber drivers and wyling for a rating, insert Jacob Zuma meme. Ikon just got to his destination and it’s a grave. I think this beat is from a previous song, I’m guessin “Boats.” Yo! The grief from losing a loved one is overwhelming. This is really grim, but it’s a very vivid depiction of Ikon’s headspace. Ikon just said he tried taking his own life, wow. He sounds like he’s finally past the worst.
1-Listen Review Hungry To Live Final Thoughts
Ikon is honest. Taken as a sum of its parts, Hungry To Live pieces together thoughts form Ikon’s mind and life lesson in a personal statement, and one with a high chance of resonating with listeners, particularly after multiple listens. While you can hear everything and infer from one listen, Hungry To Live is not an album made to listen to once and for all, it will take a couple of listens for its content to fully blossom, I can gauge that much from my first listen.
There’s not much that’s typical about Hungry To Live, even though its central theme of going through your journey is universal, it ultimately was made from Ikon’s perspective and influenced by his own turbulent journey—thankfully he’s in a better space. But it’s definitely not cryptic also, there are useful nuggets to be picked regardless of situations; the lyrics are timely, poignant and even jovial at times. At 33minutes short, there’s a pointedness that means no words are wasted and needless fat is absent.
As far as the music is concerned, Ikon indulges in as many quirks as possible, expectedly showcasing his eclectic range. But as much colour and variety as there are on Hungry To Live, there are spots where the music doesn’t settle, with compositions flailing around sometime. While a little stability would have been more welcome, the slight unevenness won’t deter front to back listens.
Starting off a discography on a personal note, a cinematic attempt at that, is a strong statement on the importance of music as a substantial tool of expression for the artist. Even though Hungry To Live is not perfect, it’s a beyond satisfactory first entry for Ikon.