A Ghetto Love Story is Basketmouth’s most rounded project thus far, and his strongest claim to being the ultimate orchestrator, with a distinctive ability to curate cohesive projects.
By Patrick Ezema
Soundtrack albums have to accomplish two major goals. The album must fulfil its role as a companion to its film, sharing its themes and with flowing its tides. It must also possess the quality and homogeneity to entertain a listener as a separate body of work from the movie.
Basketmouth should know all about this now: since pivoting from comedy, he produced his debut album, Yabasi, for his TV series, Papa Benji, in 2020, and followed it up with two albums in the next three years—2022’s Horoscopes and 2023’s Uburu.
Across these projects he has maintained elements that have become a calling card: a preponderance for Highlife-inflected sounds heavy in beaded and beaten instruments, and collaboration with a variety of artistes, some of whom have become recurrent members of cast.
A Ghetto Love Story offers more of the same. It was curated for Basketmouth’s debut feature film of the same name, which contends with romance, love and inevitably heartbreak. The album ends up navigating the same alley.
Its ten songs oscillate between love and heartbreak, finding its brightest sparks when its artistes draw vulnerably from the depths of either condition.
“Wickedest Love” has underground Soul/R&B singer, Ogranya, star opposite veteran, Waje. They detail the early days of a relationship where mutual affection and attraction are plentiful.
Ogranya is effusive on the first verse—“Baby I’m on my way, I can’t wait to see you/ I’ve been counting the minutes”—with Waje every bit his match–“I’m just one call away, and I’ll be vibing to your rhythm and blues”.
Singer, Ugoccie, provides one of the A Ghetto Love Story’s best performances on “Iwa”—“Lee anya m na-eji hụ ụzọ/ Lee ọkụ m na-eji hụ ụzọ”, conferring her lover with the highest profession of love—“the eyes I see with.”
On the next track, Oiza and Meyi are on the same plane, though Duktor Sett this time swaps out the mid-tempo Highlife beat that “Iwa” was built on for a techno-leaning production. One of A Ghetto Love Story’s great strengths is finding little pockets for variety. When it strays too far, however, the results can be unpleasant.
Falz’s feature on “Mushin” aims to call back to the shepeteri era that ruled Lagos not that long ago, but hardly succeeds; an incongruous anachronism in 2024, that would hardly fare better even at the peak of its era.
Aside from the occasional misstep, A Ghetto Love Story pulses with emotion. When it loves it loves hard, but when it mourns love, it grips your heart even tighter.
Pheelz ponders on the difference between two interchangeable concepts on “Heartbreak And Breakfast,” before concluding that “All na the same”. But he’s really just processing the shock of a lost love that has him questioning everything: “Break my heart, don’t break my soul/ leave the rest for the rest o”.
The only artiste with two different features on A Ghetto Love Story, Peruzzi, gets to explore both sides of its thematic divide, first embracing carnality and intemperance on “Tonight”, a standout in which he recalls an early ‘2000s Tuface in his delivery, as Duktor Sett crafts the model of the A Ghetto Love Story’s intended sound: laid back, groovy, African; the kind that would make for a fine backdrop to an alcohol-fueled shindig under the stars.
A little later, “Where” opens to see him on the flip side of the coin: “Wetin you do me no nice/ you dey kill my vibe, giving my battery no life”.
Much like the film it soundtracks, A Ghetto Love Story is keen to keep you on your toes about where its love story ends. You never quite know where the next track swings, but you can fairly assume you’re going to love it.
Sometimes, though, it finds you on the precipice of a love that you’d rather not cheer for, like on DOTTi The Deity’s contribution for the titular album opener: “If you break my heart, I fit to break your head/ Comot cutlass for your case/ I fit to rot for jail”.
Its addition presents another facet to Basketmouth’s consideration of love and its complexities, but it is a view that could have been done without, however appealing DOTTi’s effusive vocals makes it sound.
Like every other Basketmouth project, A Ghetto Love Story is a brisk affair, clocking in south of the thirty-minute mark. And like every other project, it shines in fluid collaboration: the feat is not just being able to assemble the calibre of stars on display, but to extract their better verses and make them gel in a way that feels cohesive for nearly the entire project.
Some of its flaws are perennial ones too, like Basketmouth’s closing the project with a heavy-hitting rap affair, as Yabasi and Horoscopes both did. This time, however, Ice Prince and Illbliss are rather underwhelming: Ice Prince’s grandiose self-allusions—’they call me big cat, big dog, real scorpion’—land humorously in the context of the song.
But what A Ghetto Love Story brings to the table on a level that none of its predecessors ever even attempts is motif. This is directly a benefit of its attachment to the movie, and it helps Basketmouth and his band of artistes work with a consistent story for most of the album.
This, thrown unto his signature soundscape, makes A Ghetto Love Story his most rounded project thus far, and his strongest claim to being the ultimate orchestrator, with a distinctive ability to curate cohesive projects.
Lyricism – 1.2
Tracklisting – 1.4
Sound Engineering – 1.4
Vocalisation – 1.4
Listening Experience – 1.6
Rating – 7.0/10
Patrick Ezema is a music and culture journalist. Send him links to your favourite Nigerian songs @EzemaPatrick.