Since the release of Heis, Rema has increasingly leaned into a version of himself that seems less concerned with making conventional Afrobeats records and more interested in creating songs that explode when played in front of a crowd.
That approach has worked.
Rema has become one of the more reliable show stoppers in contemporary African music, particularly because his records can create moments that feel bigger when experienced with hundreds or thousands of people. His latest song, “Tea,” continues that direction, but it also exposes one of the biggest weaknesses that has followed some of his recent music: the difference between a song that works in a room and a song that remains interesting when the room is gone.
“Tea” is clearly designed for clubs, parties and live performances. It is loud, repetitive, provocative and rhythmically direct. It does not require much attention from the listener. In fact, demanding too much attention from it might reveal how little there is underneath the surface.
And that is both its strength and its weakness.
Rema and Mustard Create a Different Kind of Rema Record
Rema links up with veteran American producer Mustard on “Tea,” and the result is a record that does not really sound like traditional Afrobeats.
Instead, the production sits somewhere between hip hop, dancehall and club music.
Mustard builds the instrumental around a looping musical idea that gives the record the feeling of a dramatic scene approaching its climax. There is something almost cinematic about the beat. The pads, keys and bassline create the impression of a street movie soundtrack, while the repetitive loop keeps pushing the record forward.
It is not an instrumental built around complexity. Its purpose is momentum.
The beat wants bodies moving.
That is why the record immediately makes sense in a club environment. There is enough space in the production for Rema’s voice to function almost like another percussion instrument, while the repetition makes the record easy to catch after only a few listens.
This is music built for physical reaction rather than intellectual engagement.
The Production Does Most of the Heavy Lifting
The biggest problem with “Tea” is that the instrumental is considerably more interesting than what Rema actually does with it.
Lyrically, the song is extremely shallow.
The subject matter revolves around attraction, women, dancing, sexuality and partying. There is nothing particularly surprising about that. Rema has never been an artist who needs every record to carry a profound message, and there is nothing inherently wrong with making a simple party record.
The problem is that “Tea” does not appear to be trying to do anything beyond that.
Rema compensates for the limited lyrical material with his vocal performance. He bends words, stretches certain sounds and repeatedly changes his delivery to create a sense of drama. There is an intentional theatricality to his performance.
That vocal drama is important because without it, the song would probably feel even emptier.
The chorus is where the record becomes most effective. Its repetitive central hook works with the instrumental rather than against it. The groove gives dancers something to respond to, while the repetition makes the song easy for a crowd to participate in.
It is not particularly sophisticated.
It does not need to be.
“Tea” Understands Its Assignment
There is a temptation to judge every song according to the same criteria.
That would be a mistake with “Tea.”
This is not a record trying to compete with Rema’s more melodic or emotionally layered material. It is trying to create a moment.
Put “Tea” inside a nightclub with a loud sound system, a DJ who knows exactly when to play it and a crowd already looking for something to dance to, and the song suddenly makes much more sense.
The repetitive chorus becomes an advantage.
The dramatic production becomes an advantage.
The simplicity becomes an advantage.
Even Rema’s exaggerated vocal delivery becomes an advantage.
This is why the record will probably perform much better in a live setting than it does through headphones.
There are songs that you listen to.
There are songs that you experience.
“Tea” belongs to the second category.
Rema’s Performance Instinct Is Still Impressive
One thing that should not be overlooked is Rema’s understanding of performance.
He knows how to make a record feel larger than its actual musical content.
That is an important skill, particularly for an artist who has become increasingly prominent on international stages. A song does not always need complex songwriting to work in an arena. Sometimes it needs a recognisable hook, a strong rhythm and enough repetition for thousands of people to participate without knowing every word.
“Tea” has those ingredients.
Rema’s vocal mannerisms also give the record a personality. Rather than simply singing the lyrics, he performs them. He exaggerates certain phrases, bends his voice and uses repetition to manufacture tension.
This is one of the reasons the song does not completely collapse under its lyrical limitations.
Rema understands that the voice can become part of the production.
But What Happens When the Party Ends?
This is where “Tea” becomes less convincing.
Remove the club.
Remove the concert.
Remove the DJ.
Remove the crowd.
Now put the song in someone’s headphones while they are sitting alone.
What remains?
Not much.
The production is enjoyable, but the loop eventually becomes predictable. The lyrics offer little reason to return outside of the atmosphere they create. The chorus is catchy in the way a chant can be catchy, but there is not enough lyrical or melodic development to give the song much longevity.
This is a recurring issue with some of Rema’s recent output.
He has become extremely good at making records that create immediate reactions, but immediate reaction is not the same thing as longevity.
A song can make a crowd scream tonight and still be forgotten six months later.
That distinction matters.
Rema’s Short Shelf Life Problem
One of the biggest criticisms that can be made of Rema’s recent discography is that some of his songs seem designed around the moment rather than the lifespan of the music.
“Tea” feels like another example.
There is a difference between a song being repetitive because repetition is an artistic choice and a song being repetitive because there is not enough material to develop.
“Tea” occasionally falls into the second category.
Its strongest qualities are tied to its environment. When the bass is loud and the crowd is moving, the song works. When the energy disappears, the weaknesses become much easier to hear.
That does not make it a bad record.
It simply makes it a limited one.
Rema has already demonstrated that he can make music with far greater replay value. That makes the decision to release records like “Tea” more interesting. Perhaps this is deliberate. Perhaps he understands that his growing international performance career requires records specifically designed to create explosive moments.
If that is the strategy, then “Tea” succeeds.
But if the question is whether this is a song people will continue playing years from now because of its songwriting, composition or emotional depth, the answer is much harder to defend.
The International Appeal Is Clear
Interestingly, the fact that “Tea” does not sound particularly Nigerian may actually work in its favour internationally.
The song’s hip hop and dancehall influences give it a familiar rhythmic language for audiences in the United States and other Western markets.
Rema does not have to explain the record.
The beat communicates its purpose immediately.
That is important because the global music market increasingly rewards records that can cross cultural boundaries without requiring the listener to understand every reference.
“Tea” is straightforward enough to accomplish that.
It is essentially a party record stripped down to its most obvious components: rhythm, repetition, sexuality, vocal personality and atmosphere.
For a global club audience, that can be enough.
Final Verdict
“Tea” is not Rema’s most impressive song, but it is arguably one of the clearer examples of his growing understanding of performance music.
The production from Mustard gives him a dark, cinematic and club-ready foundation. Rema then uses his voice as a performance tool, bending and repeating words to create excitement where the songwriting itself lacks depth.
The result is effective within its intended environment.
Play it at a party and it works.
Play it in a club and it works even better.
Put it into Rema’s live set and it could become one of those moments where the crowd takes over the song.
But listen to it alone and the limitations become obvious.
There is very little lyrical substance, little emotional depth and not enough musical development to give the record a particularly long shelf life.
That leaves “Tea” in an interesting position.
Rema knows how to stop a show.
With “Tea,” he proves once again that he knows how to start a party.
The question is whether he can make the party worth remembering after the music stops.
Rating: 6/10
