It was still the first phase of the Covid-19 pandemic that rocked the whole world six years ago when I first heard the magnanimous vocals of Oluwakayode Balogun, professionally known as Barry Jhay. His song, ‘Ashe She’, off his 2020 debut album, Barry Back, caught my ears as it sizzled through my radio. It was a decent introduction to the Yoruba pop merchant whose music draws richly from the Fuji tradition pioneered by his father, the legendary Sikiru Ayinde Barrister.
After the extended plays Son of God (2022) and Barry Back 2 (2023), followed by last year’s Barrystar Vol. 1, the Yoruba pop singer returns with his third studio album, Barrystar Vol. 2, a 17-track continuation of the series. For the most part, the album serves as a profound reminder of all the reasons Barry Jhay has continued to soar as Yoruba pop royalty in contemporary Nigerian music.
The album opens with four tracks, but its pulse doesn’t come alive until the fifth song, “Let’s Go”. Produced by Yvaw, the song beautifully meshes Barry Jhay’s Fuji-inflected vocals with a scintillating 3-step beat. Flanked with ambient chord progressions, Barry’s virtuoso shines for his versatility as he croons his hustle-inspired message. With sparse lyrics and a litany of ‘Let’s go there’ chants, he weaves a soulful, hypnotic groove that signals strong promise for a global expansion of indigenous Nigerian pop.
As the album progresses, one is awash with the same spiritually charged memoirs and supplications that have trailed Barry Jhay’s catalogue in the last six years. While he is either praying for God’s divine favour and protection or celebrating his wins, his code-switching lyricism somehow makes the listening experience feel larger than life. This ability to inflect a certain sense of grandeur to his compositions, especially with his signature polyphonic harmonies that colour his sound, seems to be his elixir for longevity.
Even though it might sound monotonous to his casual listeners, it keeps his music distinct, enjoyable and addictive. Songs like “Igi Aruwe”, “Motide” and “Jogodo” make a strong case for why good quality never goes out of style. Barry Jhay’s powerful octaves, falsettos and Fujinova are compelling enough to keep his spin engaging, even when he sings about mundane experiences like in “Jogodo”.
The tonal drift in Barrystar Vol 2 is also quite impressive, seeing as how Barry Jhay embraces South African percussion like he does in “Let’s Go”, “Eko”, and “Extasy (with Reekado Banks)”. It’s, perhaps, the most catchy sound in the album, ranking just above his signature pop template that you’d hear on songs like “Teramo”. On songs like “Grind”, he reaches into his emo-pop bag, crafting verses that feel like reading a page straight out of his diary. And in “Sati”, he drifts over a Drill-inflected beat, reminding his fans that he “didn’t come this far to go back.”
As far as features go, the line-up for Barrystar Vol 2 is a tad unforgivable. Barry Jhay taps a new artist Ehizay in “Uwese”, Reekado Banks in “Extasy”, and Blaqbonez in “Congratulation”. However, there’s little to congratulate this crop of features, as all acts didn’t really offer any polarizing or outstanding experience in the spin. With Blaqbonez’ duet sounding like a watered mix of his regular flows, and Reekado sounding too waned out, it felt like Barry Jhay should have carried the pulse of all these records by himself. Perhaps, a more ambitious line-up of duets, especially those that carry the torch of Barry Jhay’s cultural fusions, would have elevated this album beyond its present appeal.
After bearing the ‘Afro-Adura’ flag for the past few years, it seems very little has changed in Barry Jhay’s musical outlook. There are traces of love memoirs, but the record is still dominant in the prayerful anthems that colour his culturally spiced flavour of music.
As one of the few custodians of indigenous artistry in Nigerian music, Barry Jhay still makes a strong case for one of the scene’s most vivacious voices. What is lacking, however, is the adhesive element, the cohesive feel that should keep grooves like his as timeless as time itself can permit. In Barrystar Vol 2, the tracklisting fails to uphold that seamless drift from top to bottom. The listenership is torn between enjoying Barry Jhay’s immense musical talent and struggling to consume it as a body of work. There’s quite a lot of shock value moments, but it all fails to hold in the centre, making the music lack that replay quality that secures its evergreen status.
The album closes with a powerful ode titled, “Aurevoir”. It’s a witty title for an album closer, but it too fails to retain any stronger element than Barry’s towering vocal ability. This is exactly why as a 17-tracker, Barrystar Vol 2 fails to provide the artistic leap its strongest moments promise. The album would have worked better with a smaller run-time of its most enchanting tracks.
Nonetheless, overall, Barrystar Vol 2 is a richly textured attempt at cultural fusions, and is a bold reminder of Barry Jhay’s enduring talent. While it also celebrates Barry’s father’s legacy, it’s also a conversation on Barry’s sojourn. It distinguishes him as a proud Yoruba pop crooner whose originality, charismatic vocals, and musical memoirs remain tucked in Afrobeats’ hall of fame like that last piece of fudge cake sitting in a special corner of one’s fridge. It’s a satisfactory sequel to his last record, and a noteworthy addition to the library of contemporary Yoruba pop music.
In time, it seems Barry Jhay would hack a more expansive arsenal of grooves, storytelling and collaborations, but for now the music remains judged on the times and ability of the young superstar. And, it is definitely one that’s as promising as can be. It sits at 7/10.
