“No be all this cho-cho-cho, show working,” rapper ODUMODUBLVCK fired on X sometime last year, taking a jab at his colleague, Prettyboy D-O.
Unsurprisingly, the first thing he says on his latest album, INDUSTRY MACHINE, is “Yeah, I dey work”. It’s a bold statement that he’s not just talking but following through. And truly, his work rate backs it up. INDUSTRY MACHINE arrived a mere seven months after a fascinating prelude, THE MACHINE IS COMING.
As a second advent, INDUSTRY MACHINE arrives to pillory ODUMODUBLVCK’s adversaries, condemning them to damnation while celebrating their downfall. But he does not wage this war alone. He is flanked by an army of A-list and B-list collaborators whose presence amplifies the album’s power and reach.
“Na me dey dance on their grave, e no cost,” ODUMODUBLVCK declares on the album’s opener and title track, “THE MACHINE”, a triumphant proclamation of dominance over his enemies. On “UNAWARE,” he enlists British rapper Pa Salieu and channels the menace of a boogeyman catching his foes slipping, begging for mercy. Amid the wreckage, however, romance sneaks in: Pa Salieu blends damnation with desire, rapping about punishing his enemies while sweet-talking a woman who’s caught his eye.
The album veers from fierceness to jollity with “GROOVING,” featuring Davido and Seun Kuti, and “BIG TIME,” in collaboration with Wizkid. The former is built on the backbone of Highlife, and it’s a bright, jubilant song. In a jolly mood, ODUMODUBLVCK tells a lady she is too good-looking. Davido’s verse is an incoherent addition to the fun. But Seun Kuti’s verse about the charm of Nigerian men and women and his deftly played sax gives the song a jazzy warmth and joy.
On the latter, ODUMODUBLVCK segues from braggadocio into quiet introspection, while Wizkid delivers a mellow chorus and verse reflecting on his rise to Afrobeats royalty, his mother’s passing, and how music became his escape from the streets.
“IF YOU LIKE GYM” is a moment designed for rap purists, though ODUMODUBLVCK refuses to keep it clean. Featuring rap legend Mode 9, the track unfurls like a cypher. The production is stripped down, letting both rappers spar with surgical precision. ODUMODUBLVCK tries to be brutal, however, humour takes the best of him. But Mode 9 delivers in his typical hardcore style, occasionally throwing pidgin and Yoruba words into his lyrics.
Would there ever be an ODUMODUBLVCK album without songs named after famous people like footballers, politicians, or comedians? Probably not. Ever since he scored a global hit with “DECLAN RICE,” naming tracks after cultural icons has become his calling card.
“VINICIUS,” named after the Brazilian footballer, is flamboyant in all the right ways: it basks in braggadocio, playful and sharp, a dance-floor spark that never overreaches. “ADENUGA” brings Skepta and Antiworld Gangsters into the fold, a drill-heavy cut that fuses ODUMODUBLVCK’s Nigerian street grit with London grime energy. Skepta’s verse slides in with calculated cool, while ODUMODUBLVCK and Antiworld trade verses like they are in a cypher. More than many, this track embodies his dual ambition of keeping his style Nigerian while aiming for global recognition.
“LAYI WASABI,” with rapper Reminisce, is no way a homage to the skitmaker and actor of the same name. It’s a thinly veiled shot at Blaqbonez and A-Q, rivals in ODUMODUBLVCK’s crosshairs. Reminisce is playful yet biting, slipping in subtle jabs at anyone doubting his rap skills. His call of “astaghfirullah” (I seek forgiveness from Allah”) after cursing his enemies, followed by invoking Ogun, is peak Ìbílẹ̀; it’s irreverent and ruthlessly clever.
ODUMODUBLVCK loses steam towards the album’s third quarter, and with him, the record’s momentum begins to thin. “BAGGIO,” positioned like a symbolic olive branch to Prettyboy D-O, the very artist he once told to “show working”, should have been a moment of lyrical sharpness and cultural tension resolved in brilliance. Instead, it lands flat. Even Giggs’ guest verse, which might have injected star power and grit, fails to lift the track beyond mediocrity. The chemistry feels muted, the production uninspired, and the track drifts without the punch its premise promises.
Songs like “CANDY MUSIC,” “MY ANGEL,” “BOMBASTIC ELEMENT,” “GHETTO MAN YUTE,” and several others suffer a similar fate. They feel like padding rather than purposeful storytelling or sonic exploration.
At 23 tracks, the album overextends itself, disrupting the intensity and ferocity that defined its opening half. Trimmed down to a lean 10–12 tracks, The Machine could have been a focused, tightly wound project. Instead, its sprawl dulls its edge. And by the time the final track, “HALLELUJAH,” featuring Phyno, Jeriq, and Tobe Nwigwe, rolls in, we are torn between joining the celebration and simply sighing with relief that the album has finally ended.
ODUMODUBLVCK defended the album’s extensive 23-track structure on X, stating that it pays homage to the traditional method of making records. That connects to something he said years ago: he wants his fans to always have more Odumodu available for listening, so they can enjoy his music without feeling like they’ve run out. He wants them to have plenty more options of his music to explore.
But that explanation then begs the question: what is the essence of having an overly extensive album filled with half-hearted songs?
There’s no doubt that ODUMODUBLVCK is willing to give all of himself to his fans, but sometimes, less can mean more!
INDUSTRY MACHINE is a defiant and unruly record from an artist who is determined to enforce his legacy in real time. When it hits, it’s thunderous; when it falters, it reminds us that even machines need tightening. But beneath its excess, the album reveals a rapper unafraid to dream loudly, build boldly, and take up space. That ambition — messy as it may be — is what makes ODUMODUBLVCK impossible to ignore.
**Michael Kolawole is a screenwriter, playwright, poet and cultural journalist/critic. Catch him on X @mykflow
