On Wiz Kid's On Top Your Matter (Bread Review)

Hey Famzers! How you doing? I know that it's uncommon for me to be so prolific, but my dog died, so bear with me. I'm throwing all that ennui into the blog, and its betterment. And as I took a ten day vacay in the middle of February, views are down, and my blood pressure's up. So come one! Come all! I'm back and I'm taking prisoners. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the competitive aspect of blogging and writing didn't turn me on. And I am very much turned on. Whenever I see someone, more popular than I, I get a little bit angry because there shouldn't be anyone, more popular than I; my tender heart tends to start to bleed. When someone's beating me silly at the blogging game, I see that I need to up my err'thang game and kill them dead. And as per usual, the opening paragraph isn't an opening paragraph at all. I'd think you'd be tired of this sort of writing by now, but you aren't, and for that I am eternally grateful.

The more devoted amongst you will undoubtedly recall that while I was in Edo cultural dancing my life away, I brought in a guest blogger to keep you fickle famzers from straying. This amazing totes amazeballs guest blogger (Olaisblogging), created something so brilliant that even after he's gone and got a job, I am inclined to continue his good work. So without further ado, I present to you the second bread review on the ramblings of a madman by Afam.

You've got to remember that I occasionally feel the need to name drop my good old blog, inside my good old blog, so that when you people google The Ramblings of a Madman, I Afam, the Rambling madman, am the only thing that comes up. 




I must admit that I'm a more than a little bit biased where this song is concerned because I spent a great deal of my time in Edo State (NYSC camp) dancing to it. Yes! It was what I was sashaying to when I tore up the mammy market in that god awful leaf skirt that left nothing to the imagination (you mustn't think that I mind leaving nothing to the imagination. I'm selling my market one awkward body part at a time) 

Yeah! That's the skirt. What can I say? Medicine man chic?

 The song starts with the lyrics, "I fit die on top your matter eeeeeeeeeeeeeeey baby oh!" You have to admit that it's a lovely sentiment even if it is more than a little bit dishonest. Chances are you won't die for the person that you're thinking of when the song is playing. But we must forgive his youthful idealism because he is young and because his face is the freshest face I have ever seen. His skin is like a baby's bottom pre-heatrash. His face has probably never sprouted a pimple and at 23 he remains suspiciously devoid of a beard.

The song continues with the lines, "baby girl!! God bless your mother eeeeeeeeeeeeey baby oh! you too fine pass mammy water eeeeeeeeeeeey baby oh!" That bit of it made me laugh. It's got a great sense of humour. Yeah why not tell the woman of your dreams that she's hotter than a she beast that lives only to seduce men and carry them away to unheard of underwater kingdoms eh? She'll take it in her stride. She'll smile at you and tell you that you're more important to her than her morning shit. LIES!! She will go to her room and cry like my best friend Wonwon did when Royodeboyo told her that she was sweeter than fried meat.

ps! I don't know that she actually cried, but I do know that the compliment caused her far more grief than any insult. 

After begging God to bless every member in the girls family, Wizkid goes on to explain that love isn't selfless or kind or unconditional, it's largely dependent on reciprocity.

"love me make I love you baby oh"

But we can't judge him too harshly for that because he proves that he doesn't support rape and sexual violence in the next line.

"kiss me make I kiss you"

If you follow this advice, you shall never be guilty of any impropriety.

All of that lyrical floury goodness is carried by a yeasty beat so effervescent that one cannot listen to it without being blessed with a hint of happiness. Like most Nigerian bread it's more than a little bit on the sweet side. And like all sweet things it can only be endured in small doses. The song suffers from a nasty case of diminishing breadness, where your enjoyment of the baked product diminishes with every bite. It doesn't become unbearable until the second verse by which time even the most staunch Wizkid supporter slams his head into the floor and screams, "WHEN WILL THE BLOODY SONG END?" or delivers a life ending slap to the music playing device.

In conclusion, the song features crumby and crummy lyrics super imposed on a spectacular beat produced by Del B. The beat, and Wizkid's whiny vocal embellishments save the song the way shitty bread needs more nutella than bread to be edible. The song is the musical equivalent of factory produced agege bread, and while this certainly suffices when one is in need of a bout of constipatition and some nostalgia, it is not healthy. As a result of this it gets three loaves out of a possible five.

Happy Days,
Afam