Zubi's “Frog” Serves a Haute Couture of Afro-Soul, Seasoned with Emotion and Elegance
Originality bursts forth as we delve into Zubi's "Frog," a musical libation akin to the inaugural quaff of an esoteric, venerable vino, brimming with a complexity that tantalizes the senses. This gem from the lauded EP "Journey to Idan" emerges as a haute cuisine in the Afro-soul bistro, marrying the zest of unrefined emotion with the dulcet intricacies of melody. In Zubi's vocal rendition, one witnesses the finesse of a culinary virtuoso, deftly juxtaposing the essences of romance and wistfulness, crafting an auditory repast that etches itself into the memory's taste buds.
In the pulsating core of Abuja, Nigeria, the music video for "Frog" drizzles visual spice over this sonic banquet. Under the adept guidance of Nori Mathias, the video unfurls as an elegantly arrayed depiction of the song's sojourn through venomous liaisons, each tableau acting as a thoughtful embellishment to the primary melody. The stark yet potent depiction within a cozy apartment milieu conjures images of a perfectly calibrated mélange of herbs and spices – understated, yet indispensable.
Through the synergistic toil of Zubi and producer Iordan Adrian, emerges a track that resonates with the odyssey for genuineness amidst the maelstrom of life's interpersonal tempests. Like an expertly crafted menu, their alliance uncovers the subtle undertones in each note and verse, serving up a creation that is as heartfelt as it is flavorsome. "Frog," and its accompanying visual narrative, beckons the audience to embark on a gastronomic voyage of personal evolution and the pursuit of one's unfeigned essence, rendering "Journey to Idan" not merely an EP, but a defining installment in Zubi's evolving musical saga, promising an epicurean engagement that resonates with listeners on an immensely profound plane.
FEATURED
Sometimes a tree teaches louder than any sermon: strike its trunk and you hear yesterday vibrating through today. Mega’s latest ballad, “Roots,” loops that arboreal wisdom into four velvet minutes, fusing…
A raven feather drifts across a projector’s beam, casting obsidian sparks on the screen—so begins Cam Be and Neak’s “a film called black”, an album less streamed than witnessed. Though the record spins through…
A fallen acorn can shake the soul more than a thunderclap—especially when it lands at 3 a.m. and no one is there to hear it but your memory. Ginger Winn’s Socrates operates in that liminal hour, when…
A rain-kissed koi knows precisely when to break the pond’s mirror—just as Singer-songwriter Odelet decides when to let sound disturb silence on “Raindance”, her quietly audacious…
Legend whispers that the Camino de Santiago begins the instant one steps outside the door; similarly, Plàsi’s EP Camino starts the moment its first note brushes the cochlea, inviting the listener…
If a Lagos sunset could speak, it might slur its words with a grin and hum Shayo under its breath—half celebration, half confession. Dumomi The Jig’s latest Afrobeats offering is…
Much like discovering an old photograph tucked in the pages of a borrowed novel—faded yet charged with memory—dwn bad’s debut EP, Good Luck Have Fun, resonates deeply with the complex tapestry of youthful yearning…
If a disco ball had fangs and your heartbeat synced with the strobe, Mothé’s Claw would be the fever dream you danced into at 3:17 a.m. on a rooftop in heat-ripened Los Angeles. This is no coy flirtation…
Some mornings feel like crawling out of wet cement — slow, deliberate, and unsure if you'll make it out intact. “Drifting into Darkness” by Pat Smith captures that very sensation, not with melodrama…
When grief sits beside you like a rain-soaked dog, quiet and uninvited, heaven will have to wait by Flora Cash offers the kind of sonic shelter you didn’t know you needed. This is not a song—it’s a balm…
If music could manifest itself as a dazzling carnival mirror—reflecting familiar shapes but distorting them into thrilling, novel perspectives—then Jackson Breit’s audaciously inventive album…
“There For You”, the return single from Los Angeles-based queer artist Nick Catoire, is a confessional letter left open on a nightstand, still damp from tears, addressed to the one who never truly stayed…