“Futuristic” is the word often used to describe The Collectiv3 LP by many writers. The 9-song compilation, which turned 3 on October 1st this year, was released to immense critical acclaim and is still held in high regards by fans. Obviously, describing an album as futuristic is an outright compliment. The issue, though, with music being tagged as ahead of its time is that it doesn’t always get the props it deserves in the present. The narrative for The Collectiv3 LP – a seeming passion project featuring a dozen artists coming together for a resplendent, genre-averse, compact album – made it the perfect candidate. While undeniably different from what dominated the mainstream at the time, the music on The Collectiv3 LP was just as approachable and entertaining, but knowing it wouldn’t receive the type of widespread fanfare a compilation project curated by a popular label or group of artists meant conflating under-appreciation into futurism.
Similar to its predecessor, the sequel The Collectiv3 LP: Live. Create. Repeat. is not guaranteed any huge successes, especially as it is sandwiched between Poe’s Talk About Poe and Show Dem Camp’s Palmwine Music 2 – both long-awaited projects from artists who are also heavily involved on this album. In terms of quality, though, Live. Create. Repeat. is quite the sequel to its predecessor, also employing a rotating cast for a resplendent, genre-averse, compact album which is undeniably of the moment, and also with sky-high chances of timelessness.
Beyond the notable changes in a few cast members, the real difference between first and second installment lies in blatancy. Where the first entry had a nebulous, if introductory, air about it, this new entry lays its cards all on the table in the “Live. Create. Repeat.” part of its title. With this clarity, Live. Create. Repeat is less of a freewheeling compilation of songs and more a series of statements – gripping and relatable ones at that – giving it significantly more gravitas without losing the same edge that makes the first Collectiv3 album a gratifying listen. Whether it’s in the lyrics explicitly or implied through gait, songs are created to leave an impression that isn’t just about the exhibition but also showcasing these talented artists as people.
Grounding virtuosity with personal experiences is the wholesome code for Live. Create. Repeat., and it shows in how artists can posit, resolve, inspire and evoke emotions on the turn of a dime, without losing the fun factor. “As a writer, I aspire to inspire first/it’s why I leave a piece of my soul in every line I birth,” SDC’s Ghost raps on his gut-grabbing 32 on “Taking Over.” Amidst the litany of self-exultant raps that follows, the above-quoted line cuts the deepest because it tersely defines Live. Create. Repeat. It’s tempting to call that line, and by extension, Ghost’s verse, a centerpiece of the album because of how resonant it is, but it feels more like a mission statement with subsequent listens since all artists present are also distilling themselves into the music.
Live. Create. Repeat. is mainly carried by expression, which is why whatever measure of profundity is sputtered out feels like organic byproducts to this method. On the Zen-inducing opener “Fulfil Your Destiny,” Mokeyanju coos softly over a roots reggae horns and spry guitar riffs to hypnotic effect, breaking into hazy spoken word verses, filled with inspirational and rich quotes caught from a lucid dream – it’s noticeable that the song is as much for the singer as it is for the listener. “If it hasn’t arrived yet, don’t feel ashamed,” Tec raps in his self-assured verse on “Kiss the Fire,” which also features a cutting performance from Tems and a rousing hook by Tomi Thomas. In its entirety, it is telling that Live. Create. Repeat is reality music; music inspired by life.
Sometimes, performances can convey emotions even more than words. Breathtaking is the word to describe Funbi on “I Want it Back.” The theme borders on reclamation – there’s a staggering quality to the songwriting – but the manner in which Funbi’s voice hollers and weeps around Spax’ stuffed drums and reggae guitar riffs happens to be the real spellbinding effect. Even if the scenario that serves as inspiration for “I Want it Back” didn’t directly happen to Funbi, there’s a piercing authenticity to his performance. Besides, being jilted or disappointed happens to be an avenue to learn, and turning such an experience into a fantastic song happens to feed into the motto of Live. Create. Repeat.
The expansive musical palette on Live. Create. Repeat., with production from Spax and Ikon, accentuates and never fails to elevate the performances of the artists. Take the two part “Taking Over” which opens with a jazz suite, comprising skipping piano keys, gently heaving double bass and light touch hi-hats to perfectly fit Preye Itams’ ‘60s jazz diva singing, with that extended opening sequence flipped into a sample for a gorgeous, thumping boom-bap beat for Ghost to bruise and bully. “Try” is a neo-soul bop featuring rolling piano keys and a light hip-hop drum bounce capturing the tenderness of Funbi and the husky spring of Blinky Bill, and the irresistible, plush bounce of “Stop Me” creates a bright backdrop for Tec and Ghost to trade blunted and joyous quotables.
The main disservice to Live. Create. Repeat., sadly, is its botched rollout. Not only did the album arrive almost a day after it was officially set to drop, it was only available on Nigerian music store Boomplay for the first few days upon release. After getting the album from that store, listeners have to wade through dead air at the back end of all but one track, Funbi’s solo song “I Want it Back.” Seating through cumulatively 10 minutes of waiting for the next track to roll in or constantly reaching for the fast-forward button is a tedious task that mars kicking back and enjoying the listening experience. I’d suggest finding an mp3 cutter or listening/buying to this album on other streaming platforms – Live. Create. Repeat. is actually worth all that trouble.