After a short hiatus due to moving to a new space to serve you better, CriticBux is officially back—and what better way to return than with a deep dive into one of Nigeria’s most consistent hitmakers, Olamide, and his newly released 11th studio album, Olamide.
The Legacy of a Cultivator
Olamide is more than just an Afrobeats icon. He is a musical force who has evolved over the years—from his gritty rap debut Rapsodi under Coded Tunes, to becoming a street-hop sensation with tracks like “Wo,” and finally maturing into a laid-back hitmaker. But beyond his personal success, Olamide is celebrated for using his platform to build the next generation of stars—from Lil Kesh to Fireboy DML. He’s a rare example of an artist who continues to win while creating room for others to win as well.
The Self-Titled Expectation
When an artist names an album after themselves, it usually carries weight. A self-titled album is often expected to offer a full-circle moment—either as a debut that defines them or a twilight project that reflects their journey and range. Unfortunately, Olamide as an album falls short of this mark. It neither captures the essence of the artist nor offers a strong narrative about who Olamide is at this stage of his career.
Track Breakdown: Themes of Love, Wealth, and Reflection
The album opens on a thoughtful note with “Commencement” (feat. Fxrtune)—a soft jazz-influenced prelude where Fxrtune’s melancholic vocals pave the way for Olamide to reflect on life choices, accountability, and growth. It hints at an introspective direction, but this mood doesn’t quite carry through the rest of the album.
From there, “Hassibunallah” introduces an Islamic-infused rhythm of thanksgiving. Olamide blends spirituality and hustle here, declaring himself a “Young Aliko Dangote in transit,” a metaphor for his ambition and gratitude.
Love Songs and Their Mixed Bag
“Kai”, featuring Wizkid, explores nocturnal pleasure and intimacy, with both artists leaning into sensuality and escapism. While Wizkid’s verse is smooth, it doesn’t elevate the song beyond the typical Afropop love track.
In “Luvavuvah”, Olamide interpolates Lauryn Hill’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” to explore a love gone cold. It’s a vulnerable track that yearns for emotional clarity, but it could have benefitted from stronger vocal layering and more personal storytelling.
The Chase for Wealth
“Billionaire Club” brings Olamide, Wizkid, and Darkoo together in a song about success and the desire to build a financial empire. However, the collaboration feels disjointed—while Olamide raps about wisdom and financial discipline, Wizkid and Darkoo veer off into romantic indulgences, diluting the song’s core message.
In “Free” with Seyi Vibez and Muyeez, the trio celebrate their financial come-up and the joy of providing for family and friends. Vibez stands out with his confident, boastful verse, and Olamide uses the track to reaffirm his success as something earned, not inherited.
The Standout Track: Indika
The most cohesive and musically vibrant moment comes with “Indika”, featuring DJ Spinall and Dr. Dre. Yes, you read that right—Dr. Dre. The legendary producer and rapper delivers a surprisingly fluid verse over a rich Afrobeats instrumental that features Shekere, Clave rhythms, horns, and a beautifully layered Afrobeats bassline. Olamide matches Dre’s energy with a bouncy flow that celebrates life, music, and the freedom to enjoy both. It’s a standout track that captures the magic this album could have fully embodied.
What the Album Lacks
Clocking in at 17 tracks, with 8 collaborations, the album feels more like a loosely connected playlist than a tightly woven project. There’s no clear sonic or thematic direction, and for a self-titled album, that’s a missed opportunity. While some tracks touch on spirituality, love, and hustle, they never come together to paint a full picture of who Olamide is right now.
The production—aside from Indika—is largely safe and uninspiring. The album lacks the signature grit of his early days or the melodic richness of his more refined projects like UY Scuti or Carpe Diem. This album feels more like a placeholder than a defining statement.
Final Verdict
Olamide’s Olamide is not a terrible album—but it’s not the legacy-defining project its title suggests. With high-profile features and a few bright spots, it will no doubt enjoy heavy rotation. But for longtime fans and new listeners hoping for a full portrait of an artist who has done so much for the culture, this project is underwhelming. It’s a soft echo of the many Olamides we’ve come to know—without choosing which one it really wants to show.
