Maison Rouge is a deliberate callback to the Banku Music era, with its characteristic sun-soaked chords, lilting grooves, and digestible lyrics that once defined Mr Eazi’s rise.
By Abioye Damilare Samson
While Mr Eazi remains an indispensable figure in the evolution of Nigerian Pop — particularly in that crucial era in the mid-2010s, when the sound recalibrated into something softer, slower, and more laid-back — the singer, born Oluwatosin Ajibade, has spent the past years stepping away from the spotlight to invest in the larger broader African music ecosystem and, most importantly, build his music empire: emPawa Africa. What began as an incubator programme has since transformed into a full-fledged label that has catalysed the careers of many talented African artistes, including Joeboy, Lady Donli, Majeeed, Fave, oShamo, and a growing roster of talent across the continent.
Yet, even while donning the executive hat, Eazi has kept a steady hand in his artistry. His 2023 album, The Evil Genius, saw him traverse diverse soundscapes in pursuit of a panoramic artistic statement, an ambitious reflection of his restlessness and reach. With his new seven-track EP, Maison Rouge, Mr Eazi drifts back to the breezy, Ghanaian Highlife–infused rhythm he once defined “Banku Music” a decade ago.
In announcing the project, he wrote, “Maison Rouge was recorded while I was living in a guesthouse called Maison Rouge in Cotonou, Benin. This one takes me right back to the Banku Music sound that started it all”. That nostalgic intent unfolds right from the pre-released opener, “Violence”, a song that sets the tone for a project grounded in the laid-back, slick rhythms that made his music magnetic.
It opens with “Zagadat! It’s your boy Eazi”, which recalls his earlier sonic fingerprint. Gliding over a mellow, tropical groove, Eazi sings about a toxic love affair that has soured into heartbreak and regret. “I put my right foot first/ Omo I dey hope say na the strongest/ And to get with you na survival of the fittest/ Omo na who send me, right now love don turn to violence”, he sings. It’s a line that captures the balance between affection and anguish, and how Eazi’s calm, almost nonchalant delivery can soften the edges of heartbreak while still revealing its emotional weight.
Mr Eazi’s vulnerability in matters of the heart shines brightest on “Wait For Your Love”, where he yearns for his romantic interest and promises extravagant devotion. The second verse finds him pledging financial excess and exotic destinations, such as Benin and Ibiza, along with a lavish lifestyle to match. The track’s songwriting isn’t particularly intricate. It is simple, even sparse, but it captures the heart of the moment. The beauty of the song lies in how Eazi’s delivery melts into the rhythm.
On the pre-released “Casanova”, Mr Eazi crafts brilliant palmwine music characterised by a relaxed, folk-like feel and specific guitar-picking elements, anchored by the local percussion that propels the song’s flow—thanks to TMXO and Kel-P’s astute production. It’s a track that captures the candid admission of a man who acknowledges his appetite for multiple romantic entanglements. The opening verse “I no be Casanova/ But I dey like woman too much/ Why you dey tell me it’s over/ When e be only touch I touch”, establishes this duality: a denial of the Casanova label coupled with an honest confession about his weakness for women, questioning why a lover would end things over what he considers a minimal transgression.
That same persona extends into “Make He No Tey”, where Eazi leans fully into his hedonistic desires. Over a slick, mid-tempo cadence, he flirts openly with a woman already in a relationship. “What your man can do/ Me I go fit do am better/ Baby make we catch cruise/ Just me and you/ What one head can do/ Two heads go fit do am better”, he croons. It’s the kind of cheeky, self-assured lyricism that has long defined his music: casual in tone, yet deeply anchored in the realities of modern romance.
P.Priime’s production on “Corny” carries similar sonic elements and instrumental patterns to “Make He No Tey”, which he also produced, so much so that the two songs could almost pass for reflections of each other. Like many Afro-Pop artistes, Eazi leans on playful metaphors and similes to express affection, singing, “No go do you long like spaghetti / Girl, you sweet like baguette”. It’s light-hearted, catchy, and delivered with his signature delivery.
As an artiste who has long channelled Ghanaian Highlife influences, Eazi fully embraces that pocket on “Bus Stop”. The song brims with airy guitar riffs and bright piano chords that loop into cyclical melodies, giving it a lively, danceable tempo. It even closes with a guitar solo reminiscent of vintage Highlife records as a fitting nod to the roots of his sound.
The EP closer, “Love Me Now”, opens with soft woodwind arrangements and shifts away from the hedonistic and sensual energy that threads through much of the project. Instead, it finds Mr Eazi at his most tender, pleading for affection in the moment: “Love me now, make you no love me later/ Kiss me now, make you no kiss me later”. But it’s the hook, “Omo, na when you don lose person/ Then you go know say you love person”, that lays bare the song’s emotional core, revealing the realisation of love’s worth only in its absence. It’s a sobering moment of clarity that brings the project to a tender, reflective close.
Just as Mr Eazi declared in the caption announcing the Maison Rouge EP release that “This ain’t for club”, the 7-track EP embodies that ethos through its mellow cadences and languid melodies. It’s an unhurried, intimate body of work that strips away the commercial excesses of mainstream Afro-Pop in favour of a more relaxed, sultry sound. For longtime listeners, Maison Rouge is a deliberate callback to the Banku Music era, with its characteristic sun-soaked chords, lilting grooves, and digestible lyrics that once defined Mr Eazi’s rise.
Across its lean 19-minute runtime, Eazi sounds utterly at ease, draping his feather-light vocals and sensual meditations on love and desire over sultry, slow-burning production. There’s an unmistakable warmth threading through the EP, a lush blend of Highlife-inflected guitar riffs, palm wine percussion, and Afro-Pop rhythms that draws listeners into its intimate sonic world. The songwriting favours simplicity and repetition over complexity, yet this minimalist approach aligns perfectly with his conversational, almost improvisational delivery style.
At this juncture in his career—as label executive, investor, ecosystem builder, and artiste—Mr Eazi creates with the confidence of someone who has nothing left to prove. Maison Rouge functions as a love letter to the sound that launched his career, even though it offers little indication of where his artistry might venture next.
Lyricism – 1.1
Tracklisting – 1.4
Sound Engineering – 1.5
Vocalisation – 1.5
Listening Experience – 1.5
Rating – 7.0/10
Abioye Damilare Samson is a music journalist and culture writer focused on the African entertainment industry. His works have appeared in Afrocritik, Republic NG, NATIVE Mag, Newlines Magazine, The Nollywood Reporter, Culture Custodian, 49th Street, and more. Connect with him on Twitter and IG: @Dreyschronicle