Odumodublvck’s sophomore album, The Machine Is Coming, is a declaration of intent for a rapper who refuses to be boxed in. Where his debut, Eziokwu, gave him global attention, this project aims for permanence.
The album arrives when Naija rap is still negotiating its space against Afropop dominance. But Odumodublvck seems unbothered by purists. Instead, he is intent on breaking the fixed notions of what Naija rap should be with his own style of rapping. He proves this across the album, which runs to sixteen songs in just over forty minutes.
The opening track, “Legolas,” sets the stage with understated confidence. A reflective guitar loop makes room for Odumodu’s calm but assertive delivery: “Now, I dey fire like I’m Legolas… Ayy, my pain is all over now, over now,” It is a self-portrait of an artist rising from the back of the industry to take his place at the front.
With “Early Morning”, Odumodublvck cranks up the engine. Built on the skeletal percussion of grime and drill, the song finds him stretching his flow into rapid cadences that show agility and wit. This song clearly establishes two things: Odumodublvck is comfortable shifting tempo, and he thrives in spaces where swagger sits next to fury.
What makes the album engaging is not only Odumodu’s delivery but the revolving cast of guests who help him shape the album and make it colourful. “Toy Girl,” with Juno and Valentino Rose, offers a softer, romantic diversion. The singers lace the log-drum-driven beat with silky harmonies that temper Odumodu’s rough-edged persona.
“Pity This Boy,” pairs Odumodu with Victony and plays like a confessional on the cost of love. Victony’s melodies tug at the heart, while Odumodu steadies the track with street grit. Together, they balance pain and poise, reminding us that money is an integral part of love.
Odumodublvck rarely lingers on one mood. He thrives in that warlike energy, slinging threats and boasts in his inimitable style.
“Upon all their coup d’état, I’m the one who led the charge,” he raps on “Wage War”, giving us reasons for his belligerence. On “Isakaba Man”, featuring the Italian drill rapper Rondodasosa, he likens himself to the vigilantes in the 2001 movie of the same name. Rapping in a mix of English and Nigerian Pidgin, conveying a dark, violent theme about killing and discreetly disposing of the body of his opponents, Odumodu plunges us into a darker, more confrontational side of himself. Rondodasosa raps in Italian, matching his host’s fury and vitriol.
Odumodu continues on the same trajectory on “Pussy Niggaz” which is built on pounding 808s that underline its venom. It is Odumodu at his most combative, his words delivered with the sharpness of a blade.
By the midpoint, the sequencing begins to feel restless, songs darting between violence, romance, and comic relief with little transition. This jumpy arrangement depicts Odumodu’s persona but also messes with the listener’s focus.
Braggadocio and vitriol aside, humour and the cavalier find their place here. “BTC,” with Bobby Ibo, Sabinus and Afroselecta-BBK, plays like a jam session full of mischief. The flute-heavy production adds a playful lift that breaks the album’s intensity without breaking its stride. On “Ajebo Hustlers,” featuring the Port Harcourt duo and DanDizzy, wordplay becomes the main act, an exercise in linguistic acrobatics delivered with swagger and ease. Falz pops up on “Barrister Tofo,” bringing his usual theatrical flair, while Fatboy E keeps the bounce lively. These collaborations do not feel forced; they extend Odumodublvck’s world, bringing in regional and stylistic flavours that enrich the album.
The album’s closer, “Gasoline,” featuring Vector, is a fitting finale: the rising star sharing a stage with a veteran, not as a rookie but as a peer. Vector brings polished bars and the gravitas of experience, but Odumodu holds his ground, refusing to be overshadowed by his seasoned colleague.
Taken as a whole, The Machine Is Coming presents Odumodublvck as a shape-shifter who can leap from drill to Afropop to street bops but wobbles on some of the tracks. That restless energy makes the album overwhelming, as though it is cramming too many ideas into a tight space. But that chaos is also the point: Odumodu is still testing, still breaking boundaries, still making noise until everyone listens.
Odumodu’s music is rough, hard, and unyielding, hence the name, Okporoko music. With a raw, unfiltered style that blends street slang and jagged rhythms, he disrupts the usual idea of rap in Nigeria, embracing gritty flows inspired by street lingo. He may not boast the best vocal delivery, and his lyrics can at times feel jejune, but he is carving out a niche and a name for himself through the sheer force of his rap.
**Michael Kolawole is a screenwriter, playwright, poet and cultural journalist/critic. Catch him on X @mykflow
