Only a handful of artistes blessed with good
fortune ever get to enjoy the kind of mid-career
ascension that happened to Ajegunle-raised singer,
Oritsefemi. After slumming it for years in the ghetto
underground, both as a solo artiste and as one half
of a now defunct duo, Oritsefemi (born Oritsefemi
Majemite Ekele) hit the ground running in late 2013
with Double Wahala, a jaunty, robust update of
Fela’s classic song. Double Wahala exploded into
national consciousness and Oritsefemi rode the
wave to become a permanent fixture on the
concert circuit. A couple of strategic collaborations
that followed ensured the former perennially on the
verge hustler found a spot near showbiz’s top
echelons.
In the wake of such a high profile single, interest in
a fresh collection of work was ignited.
Naturally.
Not one to be accused of failing to deliver,
Oritsefemi seized the moment and put out his
latest album, Money Stops Nonsense, a garish,
unskilled collection of similarly sounding non-
tunes recorded in some nondescript Lagos studio.
Produced in bulk by Puffy Tee (who was in his
prime when he made Yahooze in 2007), the record
sounds promising enough with the opening title,
Mercy, a rejig of an earlier thanksgiving song of
Oritsefemi’s in which he showcases his impressive
pipes. Apart from Double Wahala, Mercy is
probably Oritsefemi’s most impressive vocal
performance. Story of My Life is set to a light
ragga beat and does exactly what the title
suggests. The compulsory wedding ditty,
Igbeyawo, another minor hit comes up next. The
three tracks constitute the plateau for Money Stops
Nonsense.
Nothing else makes sense. And yes, this is a 22-
track record.
It is hard to decipher what Oritsefemi was thinking
while putting this record together. His 4th solo
album should have been the record that would
introduce his talent to a whole new generation of
fans. Instead, he and his producers, Puffy Tee,
Obodo and Josh Beat among others do their
damned best to make him come across as a Z-list
artiste shopping a badly executed mixtape.
And make no mistake; Money Stops Nonsense is
badly executed. Some of the problems include
dismal song writing, illogically placed guest stars,
shoddy arrangement, half-baked production and a
general lack of inspiration. It is hard to believe any
self-respecting record label signed off on this.
It is rare to come across a disc where every guest
appearance is a fail but Money Stops Nonsense
achieves this low water mark with little effort.
Harrysong is horrid on the shoki-styled Sukus,
poor Skales is left floundering on the pseudo
remake, Zangerewa, Timaya is dead on arrival on
Money, and Davido is a dud on Sexy Lady.
What do we say for genre? Oritsefemi who is best
known for his reggae/dancehall spiritual style is
unsure of what direction to take on this record. As
a result, he tries everything to largely disastrous
results. He stays true to his roots on the
incoherent Want It (with Shatta Wale and Cynthia
Morgan) but misleads Ice Prince into venturing
into undercooked trap rap territory with Gat Class.
There is one for the gyration masters on Oju Ti
Leri, and another for the Igbo speaking audience,
(Culture).
The record is so horribly mixed and arranged that
the songs just storm insensitively from one tackily
produced one to the next. If music is supposed to
be fun, why is Oritsefemi so intent on leaving a
black mark? Remi Aluko tries to rescue the closing
song, Ijoya, but Oritsefemi – and his autotune –
refuses to grant us even that one single of respite.
Who knew he took this musical Taliban thing so
seriously? The goal is obviously to blow any
chance of a good time to smithereens.
The disc title couldn’t have been farther away from
the truth. If money really did stop nonsense, this
album would have never seen the light of day.
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