Waje leaves her competition in the dust

For Waje’s debut, words aren’t just enough. But we’ll try anyway. Since her sizzling albeit un-credited turn in the P-Square monster hit, Do Me, back in 2005 and subsequent romance with the spotlight, Waje has repeatedly had to answer this question at interviews:

‘When is the album dropping?’

Year after year, the answers and dates kept changing. In May 2013, however, imagination became reality and her self-titled debut hit stores.

She can now heave a big sigh of relief. It has been worth the wait. It is the first half of the year and Words Aren’t Just Enough (WAJE) is the year’s best album, so far.

Talented vocalists do not necessarily make the best records perhaps because they believe (sometimes rightfully so) that their voices – large and domineering – will get them everywhere. Not always true.

Waje’s sights are on the future.

The album’s central sound is dance-themed. Techno thrilling, bass synthing and ear splitting over-singing, but all in a good way. It is at once African but with a contemporary global appeal. There are local instruments, sounding loud and strong on the Del B produced Oko Mi. Flirty and engaging, its wedding staple future is assured.

The rural moonlight sing along rhymes of Onye is a surprise hit as Waje tones it down drastically to accommodate Tiwa Savage’s subdued vocal thrilling.

The hot guitar riff on the high-lifey Na The Way remix would have done fine enough with Waje’s smooth vocal run but she goes the extra mile and brings on Ghanaian wunderkid, Sarkodie as well as a surprisingly game, J Martins.

Working with heavyweight producers from Cobhams to Spellz, Waje seems to do her best work with E Kelly. Their two collaborations: Ijeoma and Black and White instantly stand out.

On Ijeoma, she sings the chorus mellismatically over a thumping, scorching beat that is at once traditional and euro pop laced, and does things vocally that only her can manage.

Black and White is old school diva soul that hearkens to Mariah Carey in The Emancipation of Mimi – with rappers, Eva and Phyno taking turns to flex muscles. Cobhams shows up for the power ballads, No Be You and Higher, and Waje knocks them right out of the park almost effortlessly, recalling the best of them from Whitney to Jennifer Hudson. Her talent is undeniable. No Tomorrow is a dance record with a Kwaito slant that could have been recorded by her bestie, Omawumi.

There is a dirty surprise in Grind, a sweaty, sticky 3:55-minutes ride with Burna Boy that is sure to leave you all freaky, hot and flustered, And on Time is Money, Waje rides a thugged-out hip hop beat like the pro that she is.

Every song feels essential and even the weak ones here (Fine Girl, Onye) would be highlights on a lesser talent’s album. There is a stubborn refusal to be placed in any box as Waje tries out as many sounds and styles as she can.

Her guest acts all have their shine time but none – from MI to Burna boy – comes within touching distance of matching her pace. There is no doubt whose record it is.

The lesson Waje may (or may not) have learnt from her predecessor, Yinka Davies, who put out a belated faultless double disc, Black Chiffon in 2011 is that great music should not be rushed. And this is the same lesson WAJE perpetuates.

Times have changed, stars can be made from hot singles but real artistes have to go the extra mile. Lots of celebrities dot the current pop landscape but only few will ever enjoy the privilege of being called real artistes. With this rich effort, Waje leaves her competition in the dust.