Rema’s sophomore album, HEIS, arrived to muted anticipation, as the very first hint of its existence came only a week before the album itself.
As it arrived, the album revealed itself to be the natural next step of Rema’s evolution and a continuation down the path that Ravage set him on nearly a year before, and which the Rave and Roses Ultra first suggested months before. It is in many ways a culmination of some of his artistic and stylistic decisions of the last few years: the musical direction of his recent projects, an extension of the macabre imagery that the superstitious interpreted as a connotation of the occult; and even his recent braggadocious rants.
And now, the persona that was initially thought to be a stylistic detour has become the soul of Rema’s sophomore album. This new offering is bold and experimental in so many ways, and especially risky when it is considered that, for a moment, Rema’s biggest calim to global fame was via the carefree, saccharine Calm Down.
The artistic and creative U-turn he has made since then has been nothing short of daring, charting a path that was already paved to establish him as an Afropop rock star, and leaving a multitude of new fans stranded in the chasm between these two personalities.
And yet it was necessary. For years Rema has straddled the fence between mainstream and eccentric, and his experiments often revealed gems: the soft rock flow of Addicted; the explosive, lascivious energy of Woman and Bounce; the exuberance of the entire Ravage EP.
With HEIS, Rema ties up these arcs in a fitting conclusion.
A lot of Rema’s confidence was baked in the oven of the successes of the last two years—a Billboard Top 3 entry, an MTV Video Music Award and a sold out show at the famed O2 arena all occurring in the wake of the success of Calm Down.
Rema references the financial status these wins have elevated him to over and over, but beyond these superficial boasts, what powers HEIS at its core is Rema’s belief that his artistry cannot be circumscribed in a box.
P.Priime handles most of the album’s production and flicks through several pulsating beat changes, channeling everything from motorcycle effects to violin strings to Lana Del Rey samples to savory Swahili renditions, but even in this chaos, Rema is able to provide a measure of control that is instrumental to the album’s palatability. He is credited as co-producer on nearly all the songs, and it makes sense how he is able to translate his vision so faithfully into sound—every beat is an extension of his warbled mind.
When he cannot productively focus this energy, however, what emerges is an inordinate mess, like the repetitive OZEBA. Working with high octane sounds means Rema often straddles the divide between irritating noise and a beautiful madness; and there are those who will think he has placed his album firmly in the former.
But then, if Rema cared much for public opinion, the album would not exist.
On HEIS and NOW I KNOW, he slows down the tempo considerably, especially on the latter which is imagined as a somber album closer after twenty-five adrenaline-fuelled minutes. It is here that he considers his journey with sobriety, looking back to times when he could not provide for his family; times that are far behind him now.
His ability to blend in tracks of slightly different energies into a near homogenous mix is commendable, and for his features, Rema makes the point of recruiting other controversial Afropop stars; the pair of Shallipopi and Odumodublvck, the duo much maligned for their maverick takes on sound and theme, but who rode on mostly negative publicity to become Nigeria’s biggest breakout stars in an otherwise quiet 2023.
They fit into the album’s tonality in ways few others would, with Shallipopi dueting with Rema on the extravagant BENIN BOYS, flowing with the pomp and pulsation that should make it a club favorite. Odumodublvck’s contribution on WAR CRIMINAL is less exciting, partly because the Declan Rice rapper leans too heavily into his grotesque side when the production could have benefitted from a more melodious approach.
It may have landed inconsistently in some areas, and it will be received in a similar polarizing fashion, but HEIS’s existence alone should suffice to prove most of the boasts that Rema crams into it.
His deviation from the conventional arrives exactly on time, as many crave for Nigeria’s post-Amapiano soundscape but only a few creatives possess the courage to actually attempt it. ‘HEIS’ translates as ‘number one’ from the Greek, and Rema’s album is his bold stake for the kingship of Nigerian music, and one that establishes his unbridled self-confidence as a bonafide member of the Big 4.
**Patrick Ezema is a music and culture journalist whose work has appeared in The Culture Custodian, NATIVE Mag, The Republic and Afrocritik. Follow him on twitter @EzemaPatrick
