Taking the title Baba Hafusa at face value, Reminisce seemed like he was ready to draw fans closer on his third LP, so that we could get to know him a little more intimately. But not exactly, the title ended up being more symbolic of the music Remi felt he now had to make in order to provide for his family as a father, rather than taking the more introspective route and, say, going into details about the struggles of being one.
Personally, I wasn’t wowed by the actual music but some of my favorite moments in hip-hop occur when my favorite MC’s humanize the important people in their lives in this way, or like how MI did with his younger brother Jesse before he became a household name himself or like how Illbliss has done with his elder brother over time. I just love it.
I also love it when the rapper flips the script and uses some of those same people to humanize themselves, like how Remi did on this project with the magical “I Remember”. On the record, he talks about losing his mum at an early age, the pain and confusion that followed, drawing closer to and eventually losing his dad and how all those experiences shaped him. Whether long and intricate like “I Remember” or short and referential like the gritty “Where I Come From”, the album’s more profound moments happen when Remi, often typecast as a “punchline rapper”, beds in stories about his life.
He talks about his come up story for the umpteenth time on “Daily Basis”, a record that starts off like it was dipped in 80’s funk and brought out to dry in hip-hop ‘16. Reminisce rapped over a beat from Camo Blaiz that William Onyeabor would have been proud of in his heyday. He collaborates with Olamide, again for the umpteenth time, on the juju-inspired “Telephone” – a well-rendered number that’s a popular CBRT just waiting to happen. He doesn’t stray too far from that sonic template on “Simpleboy”, 9ice provides the chorus and token verse this time as the Coded Tunes alumni reunite – the only thing missing is a beat from ID Cabasa. Tyce produced the record instead, he’s a newcomer. The album has a number of old faces and old stories but it also has a number of very new ones, like Remi’s protege Oladips, superstar in-the-making Mr. Eazi and the trap-apala hybrid that is Terry Apala.
Terry was given the unique privilege of having a nearly one minute-long skit, all by himself, on a Reminisce solo album – the same album that the legendary 2Baba was present on (“Nobody Knows”). I have no idea whether it was intentional but Rem subtly bridged eras from the late 70’s and 80’s, to the 2000’s, right down to “right now” on El-Hadj. He bridged sounds too, the music gets folk-like and rhythmic at times and rapping takes a backseat – that’s not what puts food on Hafusa’s plate.
Taking the title of his fourth album too at face value, some people were put off when the speaker-rattling “Asalamalekun” was launched as the album’s lead single. Even more people were put off when the album title was disclosed a few months after, with all its Islamic undertones. Honestly, I am puzzled by this line of reasoning. Yes, Remi is a Moslem but no, he isn’t trying to use his music to enchant you into becoming one – he’s just infusing his life into his music and his religion is part of his life. Neither is he saying he’s better than any one of us because he’s a man of faith. Man of faith, he might be, but Reminisce is just a man all the same. He, and the ever reliable Sossick, crafted the perfect Nigerian strip club anthem in “Ibadi”. The lyrics of “Konsignment” and “1.4.D.R.” are as lewd and direct as they’ve ever been by an MC who approaches these things largely from a 3rd person’s perspective. While on “Larger Than Life”, he touches on some of his own imperfections as a human being.
But if you’ve already judged this album by its cover or tuned your ears to the same islamophobic frequency as your heart, then wait for Lynxxx; if Jesus is more your speed, I hear he’s releasing an album soon. If you believe in somebody or something else though, maybe you should give 21 Savage’s music a try. For the rest of us, let’s doff our hats to a rapper, still in his prime, who isn’t afraid to wear either his heart or (the stereotypically Islamic) gold tooth on his CD sleeve.