Born in Paris but raised in Lagos, 25-year-old Nigerian songstress Asa's self-titled debut album makes a mockery of conventional genre classifications, effortlessly straddling world, afropop, soul and reggae boundaries.
And if you’re a jaded cynic, prepare to be jolted out of your comfy pigeonhole by a rare integrity. Asa speaks in the name of all Africa with socially conscious ballads painting the tortures of the Dark Continent in bold relief.
Her richly emotive, earthy voice rises above the expertly constructed layers of electronic beats, networks of strings and organ eulogies. If there's a weak point, Asa’s lyrics are far from polished, and she is guilty of leaning too heavily on that superb voice, admittedly an instrument in itself. Songs like '360 Degrees' and 'Subway', while sung beautifully, are mildewed by simplistic, child-like refrains. "Could this be the kind of love/ That my mum used to warn me about/ How will I know that this love will last?" is neither original nor stimulating.
The smooth, strongly accented vocals and dreadlocked androgyny will no doubt draw comparisons to Erykah Badu and even Tracy Chapman but Asa deserves to be heard without preconceptions. The crescendo on this ten track album comes in the form of 'Eye Adaba', a hauntingly beautiful prayer for peace sung entirely in her native Yoruba. A musical moment to cherish comparable to hearing 'November Rain' or, perhaps more appropriately, 'Redemption Song’ for the first time. Both uplifting and grounding, it is firm proof that one doesn’t need to understand the language to get the message.
Other noteworthy efforts include 'Fire On The Mountain', an ominous warning of social breakdown, and 'Awe', which transports the listener to a smoky revue bar on the back streets of Paris.
West Africa is not bereft of great vocal talent one has to look at the likes of Youssou Ndour, Angelique Kidjo and the late Nigerian afrobeat pioneer Fela Kuti (an Asa favourite) to know this. There can be little doubt that Asa is destined to join that celestial choir.