When Two Giants Enter the Same Studio
When Wizkid and Asake announced Real Vol. 1, it immediately felt bigger than a joint EP. It was a cultural collision. Wizkid represents a generation that turned Nigerian pop into a global export. Asake represents the chaotic, street-wired present, where Amapiano, Fuji and Lagos slang fuse into something restless and loud.
The real tension around the project was never whether it would be successful. It was about identity. Would this be a Wizkid record featuring Asake, or an Asake project guided by Wizkid’s calm, melodic instincts?
Four tracks later, the answer is clear. This is an Asake-led project that Wizkid steps into.
That choice shapes both the strengths and the frustrations of Real Vol. 1.
The EP’s Core Problem: Two Worlds, One Direction
Asake’s sonic universe is urgent, percussive and physical. His music is designed to move bodies, not pause minds. Wizkid’s world is the opposite. He thrives in reflection, space, and emotional restraint.
On this EP, most of the production, tempo and songwriting direction bends toward Asake’s energy. The Amapiano patterns, the 1-2-3 step rhythms, the street chants and party codes all feel like extensions of his catalog. Wizkid adapts to that world rather than shaping it.
That is not automatically a flaw, but it creates imbalance. Wizkid becomes a texture instead of a force.
Except on one song.
“Turbulence” Is Where the Project Becomes Real
“Turbulence” is the moment the EP stops feeling like a playlist and starts feeling like a story.
Here, Wizkid sounds like Wizkid again. The track moves slowly, emotionally and deliberately. Instead of chasing nightlife energy, it deals with survival, pressure, envy, fake love and the quiet anxiety that comes with success. There is no rush to impress. There is just reflection.
Asake does not dominate this song. He blends into Wizkid’s emotional framework, and that is exactly why it works. Their voices sit in the same emotional space. It recalls the way Wizkid once fit into Asa’s universe, not by overpowering it, but by softening into it.
“Turbulence” shows what Real Vol. 1 could have been: two artists meeting in vulnerability instead of just rhythm.
This is the one record on the EP that feels like it will age, not just stream.
Why the Other Songs Feel Disconnected
Outside “Turbulence,” the EP leans heavily on vibe-driven writing. The songs sound good. The beats hit. The melodies are catchy. But the lyrical direction feels scattered.
Rather than telling stories, most of the tracks revolve around motion: dancing, money, status, flexing, bodies in space. That works in a club. It does not always work on a project meant to represent two of Africa’s biggest artists coming together.
The issue is not that the songs are bad. It is that they do not speak to each other. There is no emotional through-line, no narrative glue. You move from celebration to celebration without ever being told why these moments matter.
It makes the EP feel more like a bundle of singles than a joint statement.
“Iskolodo” and the Street-Energy Formula
“Iskolodo” is built entirely around energy. It is loud, playful and designed for Lagos nightlife. Asake thrives here, throwing his slang, ad-libs and swagger into the beat. Wizkid, however, sounds like he is visiting.
The song celebrates money, attraction and movement. It does not dig deeper than that, and it does not try to. This is Asake’s natural habitat. Wizkid survives in it, but he does not own it.
That contrast becomes noticeable when you remember what Wizkid sounds like when he is emotionally invested.
“Alaye” and the Performance of Luxury
“Alaye” continues the same pattern. The song is built around wealth, time, parties, fashion and desire. Everything feels shiny and expensive, but emotionally empty.
It is the kind of record that will travel well on social media and in clubs, but it does not tell you anything new about either artist. It performs success without examining it.
After “Turbulence,” that hollowness becomes more obvious.
Star Power Is Carrying What Story Did Not
What ultimately sells Real Vol. 1 is not cohesion. It is celebrity gravity. Wizkid and Asake are too big to fail when they stand next to each other.
But the EP does not feel like two superstars exploring something together. It feels like Asake’s sonic world hosting Wizkid, with one moment of real emotional exchange.
That one moment happens on “Turbulence.” And it quietly exposes what the rest of the project avoids.
Final Verdict
Real Vol. 1 is not a bad project. It is just an incomplete idea.
It gives fans energy, rhythm and star power, but it only gives depth once. That single moment of honesty makes everything else feel more shallow by comparison.
If this EP had followed the emotional and sonic direction of “Turbulence,” it could have been something special. Instead, it settles for being good enough, loud enough, and famous enough.
Sometimes that is all the industry asks for.
But Wizkid and Asake are capable of much more.
