On “Update”, one of the more impressive songs on his eighth studio album, No Sign of Weakness, Burna Boy says nothing can touch his energy.
A few seconds into “No Panic”, the album’s opening track, he channels that untouchable energy, reasserting his brilliance and defiance with venom and clarity.
The fierceness of the opening track bleeds effectively into the title track, “No Sign of Weakness,” where Burna Boy continues to rain vitriol on those who disparage him. The song begins with a distorted male voice declaring that weakness doesn’t ask to take over, it thrives in the spaces where one chooses comfort over challenge. Not scared of challenges, Burna Boy advises his detractors that it’s best to keep quiet because “Hothead can’t get cold feet”.
Having asserted his brilliance and place and warned his detractors to desist from disturbing his peace, Burna Boy switches toward more personal subjects, reflecting on life, love, and lust.
On the highlife-leaning “Buy You Life,” he mulls over the pursuit of wealth and the transience of life. With a voice heavy with introspection about the fleeting nature of earthly things and the certainty of death, he sings that “Life na be careful,” and “If you like, be the most careful” Death is an inevitable end for everyone.
The reflective mood that life, in its ultimate sense, is futile, or empty continues in “Empty Chairs”, featuring Rolling Stones front man Mick Jagger. Burna reflects on the futility of fame, his resilience during trials, and being the target of internet gossip. The lyrics are vivid and well-delivered with precision and careful pacing. Mick Jagger’s chorus, combined with the choir, brings a sombre tune to the song.
Besides the self-asserting, quasi biographical, and politically charged songs, Burna Boy often adds light-hearted songs to his albums to make them bounce. The jaunty “Tatata”, featuring the American rapper Travis Scott, is middling but notable for its sensual playfulness and onomatopoeia. On the spiteful “Dem Dey”, he repurposes Lagbaja’s “No do, no do” chorus from the 2000 song “Gra Gra” to mock those who criticised him for reneging on his promise of buying a Lamborghini for a lady he had an affair with. The song’s melody and Burna Boy’s vocal inflection are partly drawn from Fuji, and at the end, he is declared a chief. A few tracks later, he announces himself as a king on the Fuji-inspired EDM, “Kabiyesi”.
Despite his machismo, Burna Boy is always at his best whenever he sings about love and its vagaries. In “Last Last”, from Love, Damini, he sings about his emotional instability after his failed relationship. Contemplating the breakup, he wishes that in another time and life, they would get it right and she would be his wife.
Somehow, he’s gotten better and decides to give true affection a chance.
On the lovers’ rock “Sweet Love”, he promises to protect his lady’s heart from danger. Understanding the lonesome feeling of being alone, he wishes the stars align in his favour for him to be with his woman every night. Reminiscent of Bob Marley’s “Is This Love” and “Turn Your Light Down Low”, the song is a tender blend of longing and devotion, wrapped in warm guitar riffs and laid-back percussion. Burna Boy’s delivery is vulnerable and assured, suggesting a man who has been bruised by love but still believes in its power to heal. It’s a rare moment of openness that deepens the album’s emotive range without disrupting its defiant tone.
Burna Boy’s collaboration with Shaboozey on the Afro-country track “Change Your Mind” brings a refreshing twist to the uneven album. This track stands out for its soft and heartfelt mood. It’s one of the album’s rare instances where the innovation truly springs from deep emotion rather than just genre-mixing flair.
No Sign of Weakness is not Burna’s most cohesive or inventive. It lacks direction, causing its momentum to falter. The sequencing is chaotic, with tracks colliding into one another without any flow or cohesive narrative. Songs like the tepid “Love,” “Update,” and “Bundle By Bundle” fail to find their purpose, leaving behind polished instrumentals but forgettable lyrics. Even some of the more ambitious tracks, such as “28 Grams,” which pays homage to marijuana, and “Born Winner,” the album’s self-reflective closer, could have benefited from another round of refinement.
The album also leans heavily into a male perspective, with no female guest artists to provide contrast to its title. This may be a deliberate choice to reinforce the album’s tough, hyper-masculine tone. Though the inclusion of a female choir adds some sonic flair, many tracks still feel one-dimensional and bland in their storytelling. The absence of female perspectives on some of the songs makes them feel less relatable and more self-indulgent. Ironically, it’s in the moments he lets down his guard and talks about women and love that the album truly shines.
Burns Boy’s strength has always been how he blends sharp social commentary with old-school influences, but this time, that fire is missing. Unlike African Giant and Twice As Tall, which were charged with global ambition and political resonance, this album is more inward-facing. It’s personal, but less purposeful, making it his least convincing project since his sophomore album, On a Spaceship.
**Michael Kolawole is a screenwriter, playwright, poet and cultural journalist/critic. Catch him on X @mykflow
