Gen Z lands less like an ambitious sophomore leap and more like a holding pattern—Zinoleesky doing what he knows works, but without expanding on it.
By Yinoluwa Olowofoyeku
Oniyide Azeez, professionally known as Zinoleesky, has carved out a distinctive niche within Nigeria’s vibrant street-pop scene. Hailing from Agege, Lagos, Zinoleesky’s musical journey began in his teenage years, when he captivated audiences with freestyle rap performances at school events and local talent shows.
His early ventures into music gained significant traction on social media, particularly Instagram, where his freestyle videos resonated with a growing fan base. A pivotal moment in his rise came when renowned artiste Kizz Daniel followed him on Instagram after a viral freestyle, signalling industry recognition.
Despite receiving an offer from Davido’s DMW label, Zinoleesky maintained his independence before eventually signing with Naira Marley’s Marlian Records in December 2019. Under the label, he released his debut EP, Chrome, in 2020, featuring hits like “Ma Pariwo” and “Kilofeshe”, which showcased his unique blend of Afrobeats, Street-Hop, and R&B.
His subsequent project, his debut album, Grit & Lust, released in December 2022, further solidified his position in the industry, debuting at number 13 on the Billboard World Albums chart. With his latest album, Gen Z, Zinoleesky aims to evolve from his sophomore effort, reflecting the experiences and aspirations of a new generation through his music.
Gen Z opens with “Gifted,” an honest and introspective number that sets the emotional tone for the project. Built around a light, emotive instrumental of smooth basslines, strummed acoustic guitar accents, and melancholy chord progressions, the track feels like a quiet reckoning—more of a reflective prayer than a boastful declaration.
Zinoleesky’s melody here is repetitive but expressive, with a somber cadence that feels like it’s barely holding itself together, leaning into a sense of spiritual vulnerability. “Never tried to be different, I’m just gifted/ Feel like I need save me for myself/ Now look at me saving someone else”, he admits plainly, before asking, “Ah but why you choose me? I no con know/ Cause since when I dey here, I no wan go/ Gimme your grace, I no wan soap, I no wan jonze”. His voice doesn’t reach for drama, but the emotional fatigue is evident, grounding the track in weary self-awareness.
“Most Wanted”, already a familiar hit from its pre-release run, shifts gears with energetic, highly syncopated Afrobeats drums built around log percussion and rattling shakers. Sparse synths and hazy pad chords keep the backdrop minimal, allowing Zinoleesky’s signature delivery—rooted in street-informed, Afro-adura melodies—to do the heavy lifting.
He floats across the beat with quiet confidence, making fame and desirability sound matter-of-fact. “Can’t touch me I feel anointed/ Living a five-star life, man be like wanted/ No problem, we get it sorted/ Girlies go down one time, if I say ‘I want head’”, he sings with a tone that is simultaneously cocky and deadpan, further solidifying the mythos he’s built around himself.
On “Movie”, the production retains similar elements—log drums, amapiano shakers, soft electric piano chords, and chiming guitar licks—but the mix grows noticeably more crowded as an incessant string-like synth clashes at times with Zinoleesky’s vocals.
His delivery here is more spoken than sung, almost confrontational in its rhythmic phrasing, matching the tense push-pull of the beat. “Why you always make me feel I owe you?/ Don’t you wanna hold me like I hold you?/ Don’t want me to tell my friends I know you”, he asks with slight exasperation, the tone toeing the line between pleading and calling out. The instrumental’s density occasionally works against him, muddying the emotional message in moments that could have landed more clearly.
“2Baba Flex” rides on a smooth Afrobeats groove, leaning into expressive guitar strums and bright piano flourishes over afroswing drum patterns. The song is exactly what its title promises: a self-congratulatory moment where Zinoleesky aligns himself with Nigerian Pop royalty. “Feel Like I’m Wizzy 2011/ I feel like I’m Naira, 2019, so I know as I dey do my thing/ Pass me my lighter, make I kpeff, feel like David, 2012”, he beams. The concept is compelling—framing his current reign in terms of past golden eras—but lyrically, it doesn’t stretch very far. The verses skim the surface, more mood than message, and the execution stops short of fully realizing its clever premise.
Things pick up again on “Suit & Tie,” a bouncy and endearing cut built around pad chords, bright synth jabs, and more of those now-familiar log drums and shakers. The beat feels light on its feet, with amapiano flourishes adding flair without overwhelming the core.
Zinoleesky’s verses feel sweeter, more open, as he sings, “Baby say she wants me pull up in suit and tie/ Say tonight e be you and I/ Say my face must show and my shoe must shine/ This our love, e be do ore die”. It’s a love song rooted in affirmation and style, and Toosii’s feature injects a welcome shift in energy. His sung-rapped style adds contrast, rounding out the song with an elasticity that Zinoleesky’s straightforward delivery sometimes lacks.
“Abanikanda” is the first real stylistic pivot on Gen Z. A dancehall-adjacent rhythm powered by expressive piano chords, synthetic string embellishments, and a weighty bassline gives the track an almost regal air. Zinoleesky slows things down, delivering in a more measured and melodic cadence, still limited in vocal range but noticeably more emotive.
His voice floats gently across the beat, creating a soft counterpoint to the heavier percussive elements. Naira Marley’s verse, while feeling somewhat low-effort, is still impactful. His signature vocal tone and slowed drawl bring a grit that complements the instrumental’s darker energy, giving the track a needed edge and some welcomed unpredictability.
“Doctor” plunges even deeper into Amapiano territory, with heavy log drums, deep bass, and syncopated rhythms forming a dark, percussive bed. The beat is driving but controlled, and Zinoleesky adapts with a staccato delivery that mirrors the groove’s sharp edges.
Donae’o’s feature, however, is the true highlight here—his high vocal register cutting cleanly through the mix, adding dancehall energy and melodic dynamism. His presence wakes the song up, making Zinoleesky feel like he’s playing catch-up in the best way. Together, their interplay transforms the track into one of the more danceable, club-ready moments on Gen Z.
“One of a Kind” brings the tempo back up with strummed acoustic guitars, lively Afrobeats drums, and a smooth, rolling bassline. The instrumental’s four-on-the-floor bounce gives it a lightness that Zinoleesky rides easily, stretching his delivery with more sung passages than usual. Lyrically, the song is a celebration of individuality, but its strength lies less in its message and more in the breezy, infectious feel of the production. It’s an uncomplicated, feel-good moment, helped along by its clarity and focus.
“Ayamase” begins with all-too-familiar shakers and a drum pattern that, by this point, feels recycled. Zinoleesky’s melody feels like one we’ve heard several times already across Gen Z, and despite some minor vocal inflections, the verses land flat. But then Ms. Banks enters. Her feature is a gust of fresh air—a rapped verse that cleverly borrows from Zinoleesky’s melodies while bringing her own swagger, bolstered by well-placed ad-libs that linger in the background. She not only elevates the track, she gives it a sense of urgency and character that had been missing, highlighting the value of well-matched collaborators.
“Jollof” floats on airy pad chords, delicate guitars, squealing square synths, and simple Afrobeats drums accented with amapiano textures. The instrumental is beautifully sparse, almost meditative, but Zinoleesky doesn’t do much to fill the space. “VAR no fit catch me offside/ No call me Zino, you can call me anytime/ Fast life, I’ll be on time/ When I’m wrong, I’ll say I’m sorry/ And I’m tryna make your mum employ me/ So I go see you for your hours everyday”, he sings earnestly, but the delivery lacks the emotional pull to bring those lyrics to life. The song grooves nicely in the hook, but it’s held back by a monotone that becomes more noticeable with each repetition.
“Steph Curry” arrives like a jolt of colour. Built around jazzy piano chords, funky basslines, subtle guitar licks, and brief saxophone runs, the production finally gives Zinoleesky something new to stretch himself over—and he responds. He opens up, sings with more intention, and delivers his most varied melodic performance yet.
“I’m like Steph Curry in the game, I don’t miss/ So, please put some respect on my name if you want piss/ So then I keep warning your fave, make e no diss me no/ All this comparing, when I’m gone you’re gonna miss Zino”, he proclaims, sounding both self-assured and genuinely expressive. There’s introspection here, even storytelling. It’s a standout moment, and one the album could’ve used more of.
“Mandela” taps into high-energy Dancehall vibes, thanks in part to the infectious presence of Young T and Bugsey. Thumping bass, distant chords, and prominent sax licks form a rich, layered production, while interspersed group vocals give the song added depth and texture. Zinoleesky, however, reverts to his standard delivery—a Street-Pop lilt that doesn’t quite rise to meet the intensity of the beat. Still, his agile flow and fluid Yoruba-English transitions keep it from falling flat, maintaining enough momentum to carry the track through.
“On Go” builds itself around a synthesised acoustic bass and log drums, with percussive kicks that create a playful, bouncy rhythm. Zinoleesky keeps pace with a brisk, clipped delivery that feels refreshingly nimble.
The feature from Didi B injects a burst of Francophone rap flair, his rapid-fire bars and lively sung moments cutting through with a contagious energy. There’s a lot packed into this short runtime, and while the repeated hook slightly overstays its welcome, the track still manages to feel joyful and energetic without being overwhelming.
“Ferrari” unfortunately feels like a retread—another log drum-heavy Amapiano beat with the same delivery, the same melodic choices, and the same surface-level boasts. Even the vocal synth loop that runs through most of the song becomes grating by the midpoint. Lyrically, the themes of wealth and success aren’t expanded on in any meaningful way, and the instrumental fails to offer anything to compensate. It’s a filler moment that crystallises the project’s recurring flaws.
“Born Survivor” shakes off some of that fatigue, blending a buzzing synth lead and reggae-influenced drum patterns with sharp rhythmic syncopation. Arabian flutes and bright plucked melodies colour the backdrop, and the chorus finally feels like something fresh, both musically and rhythmically.
Dyani’s guest verse is an undeniable highlight—his Rastafarian cadence and spiritual grit grounding the track in the kind of thematic depth Gen Z often skims past. Zinoleesky holds his own, but it’s Dyani’s passionate performance that breathes real life into the song.
Closing with “Lifestyle”, Gen Z ends on a cheerful, defiant note. The instrumental leans major, with bright synthetic string stabs, rattling shakers, amapiano whistles, and a bouncing bassline giving the song a feeling of light celebration.
Zinoleesky reflects on his journey, addressing critics and doubling down on his choices. He sings about living his life despite judgment, but the insights offered are minimal. His delivery, once again, reverts to a familiar cadence, and though the filtered ad-libs at the end add a final layer of texture, the song finishes without fully capitalising on its potential. It’s a pleasant outro, but more of a quiet wind-down than a lasting final word.
There’s no doubt Zinoleesky knows how to craft a hit. His ability to convey feeling through tone and texture has always made him stand out among his peers, especially in the Street-Pop and Afro-Adura space, where melody is more about mood than mastery. But when stretched across a full-length project, the cracks begin to show.
With sixteen tracks and not much variety in form or function, Gen Z struggles to maintain momentum, relying too heavily on a narrow palette of melodies, deliveries, and production choices that wear thin long before the runtime is up.
The root of the problem lies in the limitations of Zinoleesky’s approach. His signature style—half-sung, half-spoken, rhythmic yet restrained—works in doses, but without evolution, it quickly becomes predictable.
Tracks like “Gifted” and “Steph Curry” offer glimpses of emotional depth and personal introspection, but those moments are few and far between. For the most part, he falls back on a safe, repetitive structure that does little to distinguish one song from another. And with vocal passages that rarely explore range or variation, the lack of dynamic choices—whether through harmonies, layered ad-libs, or even tonal shifts—means the songs often feel like reprints of the same blueprint.
That sameness extends to the production. While Gen Z leans heavily on Amapiano-inspired rhythms and Street-Pop percussion, the instrumentation rarely stretches beyond safe choices.
Whether it’s the repetitive log drums on “Ayamase” and “Ferrari” or the by-the-numbers chord progressions on “Jollof” and “Lifestyle,” there’s a clear sense that Gen Z plays it a little too safe. On paper, the sparse instrumentation should provide ample space for a commanding vocal presence, but Zinoleesky doesn’t take full advantage of that room. And when the instrumentals do swell with more layered textures—like the groovy blend of guitars, piano, and sax on “Steph Curry” or the dancehall bounce of “Doctor”—they tend to stand out largely because of the featured artists who elevate them.
To that point, it’s the guest appearances that provide the necessary spark across the tracklist. Ms Banks on “Ayamase”, Donae’o on “Doctor”, and Dyani on “Born Survivor”, each bring unique perspectives, tonal shifts, and performance energy that cut through the monotony. Their contributions don’t just enhance their respective tracks, they rescue them. This makes one wonder how much stronger this project could have been with more collaboration or creative risk-taking from the lead artist himself.
Thematically, there’s also a missed opportunity. For a project titled Gen Z, the album rarely attempts to explore what that means. There are allusions to Zinoleesky’s status and self-belief, but they’re fleeting and rarely fleshed out, and they don’t connect back to the title in any meaningful or general way. Without a clearer conceptual arc or deeper lyrical framing, Gen Z feels more like a playlist than a purpose-built project.
Gen Z lands less like an ambitious sophomore leap and more like a holding pattern—Zinoleesky doing what he knows works, but without expanding on it. It has its bright spots, but they’re too few and too far apart to elevate the album as a whole.
Truthfully, Gen Z is not bad; it should be enough to keep fans fed for now, but if Zinoleesky is to reach the heights his potential suggests, the next step will need to show more daring, more range, and more clarity in vision.
Let’s hope this is the growing pains of an artiste still learning how to stretch his strengths into something more expansive. There’s talent here, no doubt—now the challenge is learning how to wield it with purpose.
Lyricism – 1.2
Tracklisting – 1.2
Sound Engineering – 1.3
Vocalisation – 1.2
Listening Experience – 1.2
Rating – 6.1/10
Yinoluwa “Yinoluu” Olowofoyeku is a multi-disciplinary artist and creative who finds expression in various media. His music can be found across all platforms and he welcomes interaction on his social media @Yinoluu.