There’s a temptation to call The Feast Falz’s most complete album. And in a sense, it is. Not because it’s conceptually airtight, but because it convincingly turns a record into a dining table where everyone finds something to chew on.
By Abioye Damilare Samson
Last year, Falz, the Nigerian rapper and storyteller known for his sharp wit and socially conscious lyrics, laid the groundwork with Before The Feast, a compact but intentional EP that set the tone for what would become his new album, The Feast. This move fits into a growing pattern among Nigerian artistes who now release a project, whether an EP or a full-length album, to usher in the one that truly carries the vision.
Call it strategy or storytelling, these precursor releases are calculated, layered, and often essential to understanding what follows. In 2023, Seyi Vibez dropped his third studio album, Vibez Till Thy Kingdom Come, as a thematic curtain-raiser to another full-length album, Thy Kingdom Come, both landing within weeks of each other. Earlier this year, Odumodublvck primed his audience with The Machine Is Coming, a gritty herald to his anticipated full-length album, Industry Machine.
Interestingly, Falz’s 2024 project, Before The Feast, marked a noticeable shift. As an artiste often recognised for threading biting social commentary into his music, Falz momentarily set aside that activist persona and leaned into a more fluid, sonically playful space. That transition carried into the rollout for The Feast, his sixth studio album. In the weeks leading up to its release, he dropped “Round of Applause”, a catchy, groovy tune that found him pulling off his signature playful lines with effortless ease.
What’s most striking, however, is how deeply the album’s creative direction mirrors its title. The cover art positions Falz at the head of a grand dining table, surrounded by friends as a visual nod to celebration and community. And for the album’s listening party, he brought that imagery to life by dining with celebrities and close collaborators in a dinner setting. It was a roll-out rooted in togetherness, with food and music serving as a shared language.
The album is ushered in by the pre-released track, “Round of Applause”, where his signature code-switching and ear-friendly lines glide over a laid-back, rhythmic beat. On the Duktor Sett-produced “Old Soja”, Falz teams up with Majeeed to create a song that channels the rhythmic flow of Fela’s Afrobeat.
The track opens with mellow saxophone strains, which set the tone before Majeeed’s delivery line, “Old Soja neva die, omo make I give you reason why”. The chorus leans into a spirited call-and-response, “No retreat, no surrender/ O di Dan Dan/ Hands in the air now/ O di Dan Dan”, channeling the energy of protest grounds and resistance movements.
With smooth interplay, Falz picks up the baton with a verse that fuses streetwise braggadocio and political awareness when he raps, “We got you surrounded now ain’t no way to run/ And we no dey fear uniform man wey carry gun”, confronting the state’s monopoly on violence while referencing youthful defiance.
There’s a clear thematic throughline between “Old Soja” and the politically charged follow-up, “Anything Goes”. In this Hip-Hop collaboration, Falz joins forces with Odumodublvck to deliver a scathing reflection on the state of Lagos and, by extension, Nigeria. Driven by the chant-like refrain, “Dem don dey kill us/ Dem think dem don defeat us o… We no be idiot o / We no go give up”, the chorus thunders with the spirit of a protest song that mirrors the frustrations of a restless generation.
But just like any proper feast, no one taste defines the whole meal. Falz structures the album like a five-part meal, and the Ibk Sleek-produced track, “No Less”, ushers in the Third Course, introducing a shift in sonic texture and flavour.
For the past few years, Nigerian Pop artistes have been increasingly drawing from Fuji music either by sampling classic records or fusing its percussive elements into contemporary sounds. On “No Less”, Falz leans into that trend by sampling the rhythm and percussion patterns from Barrister’s 2004 track, “Reality”, while also borrowing a guitar solo from the late Ayinde Barrister’s 1988 classic, “Fuji Garbage Medley”. It is a full-blown owambe party anthem, driven by lively percussion and an infectious groove that practically demands you move your body.
On “Famomi”, he slows things down by teaming up with DoTTi The Deity on a sensual R&B track that finds both artistes expressing intimate yearning for their lovers. DoTTi delivers a soft, tender chorus that grounds the track, while Falz slides in on the second verse with hedonism-tinged lines and a laid-back croon.
On the Qing Madi-assisted track, “Slow Down”, Falz leans into his playboy persona, trading flirtatious lines like “Me I’m no beginner/ Big baller I’m a skiller/ Can I get your number, talk about it over dinner”. The track is laced with sultry saxophone accents that add a smooth, jazzy texture, while Qing Madi’s striking vocal dexterity and expansive range shine brightly on the chorus.
What makes Falz’s rap so appealing is its digestibility, it is packed with quotables, clever phrasing, and an easygoing delivery. That quality shines on the mid-tempo “Jump”, where he raps, “We dey ball, we no dey loss pena (pena)/ Cruising in the motor, we dey buss Fela (Oya)”.
On “Wonderfully Made”, Falz joins twin vocalists Oiza & Meyi for a light-hearted yet affirming anthem about self-love and body acceptance. It opens with a playful quip: “I like seven bowls of Semo/ When I climb the scale/ It says to be continued”, setting the tone with humour and relatability. Falz follows up with lines like, “I dey like orobo BBW / When I see lepa I just dey act a fool” in a way that challenges narrow beauty ideals.
On “Dance With You”, Falz glides over a mellow, sax-infused Afrobeats rhythm, supported by soulful choral vocals that add warmth and depth. It’s another entry in his catalogue of flirtatious tracks, and this time, he plays the suave suitor, attempting to win over a love interest who keeps dodging his advances.
But the mood shifts on “Wayo”, a socially charged collaboration with American rapper, D Smoke. Sampling Fela’s 1971 track, “Jeun K’oku (Chop ‘n’ Quench)”, the song brims with urgency and political fire. Falz delivers with bite, rapping: “Tell silly politicians and greedy prophets/ Say we no go fit to let them chop us, we no be puppets (neva)/ Falz wa ni ile, shey D Smoke lo bere/ This that new energy, Soro Soke werey”. The line “Soro Soke werey” is a pointed reference to the popular phrase used during the #EndSARS protests. While the beat drives with raw energy and Falz lands his blows, it’s D Smoke’s fiery flow that grounds the track, transforming “Wayo” into a global exchange of resistance.
By contrast, his performance on the Amapiano-inspired “Eat” feels less inspired. Despite the beat’s magnetic bounce, Falz doesn’t do much to elevate it. As a rapper celebrated for his storytelling, Falz closes the album with “Story Time”, a reflective outro that traces his journey from childhood to fame. Over a mid-tempo instrumental, he narrates key moments from his upbringing, studying law like his father, and eventually pivoting to music. It’s a revealing chronicle that fills in the blanks of his personal history and adds a final, introspective note to the album’s diverse palette.
The beauty of The Feast lies in its range, a generous spread that unfolds the many facets of Falz’s artistry as the conscious observer, the playboy and the cultural critic who still wants to enjoy life to the fullest.
Just as the album is carefully segmented into distinct courses, Falz moves effortlessly across soundscapes—Fuji, Afro-Pop, Afrobeat(s), Hip-Hop, R&B—with the finesse of an artiste who knows how to balance revelry and rebellion into the same breath. This sonic diversity is held together by the tight, often textured production work from skilful producers like Duktor Sett, IBK Sleek, Semzi, Magicsticks, and others who help Falz and the guest artistes navigate their deliveries without ever losing the flow.
The Feast is, at its most honest, not just a sonic buffet for fans and friends, but a carefully plated archive of Falz’s many selves. Across 14 tracks, the album doesn’t chase perfection so much as it leans into presence. There’s a temptation to call The Feast Falz’s most complete album. And in a sense, it is. Not because it is conceptually airtight, but because it convincingly turns the record into a dining table where everyone finds something to chew on.
Lyricism – 1.8
Tracklisting – 1.1
Sound Engineering – 1.5
Vocalisation – 1.5
Listening Experience – 1.5
Rating – 7.4/10
Abioye Damilare Samson is a music journalist and culture writer focused on the African entertainment Industry. Reading new publications and listening to music are two of his favourite pastimes when he is not writing. Connect with him on Twitter and IG: @Dreyschronicle