Fuji: A Return, Reinvention & Assertion

Here is a Depth Review of Adekunle Gold’s Fuji Album You Cannot Find on Other Sites

When Adekunle Gold announced his sixth studio album would be titled “Fuji”, many raised eyebrows. Fuji, after all, is not just a genre it’s a cultural tapestry, a sound tradition anchored in Yoruba street life, drums, call-and-response, praise singing, and spiritual energy. But far from a gimmick, Adekunle Gold’s Fuji is a well-considered project, part homage, part experiment, part personal revelation.

In his own words, he describes Fuji as a return to roots — “where I come from,” “who I have become,” and “where I’m heading.” This is not just a pop record with Fuji accents; it aims to expand what modern Fuji music can be, with polished production, global sensibilities, and emotional storytelling.

The album drops with high expectations. It is 15 tracks, runs about 40 minutes, and weaves influences of Yoruba oral traditions, apala, tungba, talking drums, and pop sensibility into a cohesive narrative.

One deeper point many reviews skim but deserve focus: Simile, one of the tracks, was originally written for Beyoncé’s The Lion King: The Gift (2019). Adekunle resurrects it here, embedding it within his own story. That kind of recontextualization says as much about his ambition as it does about his reverence for sound.

Below, we break down the album by thematic arcs, standouts, challenges, and what this means for Adekunle’s legacy.

Thematic Arcs & Narrative Flow

1. Emergence, Assertion & Identity (Tracks: Big Fish, Don Corleone, Bobo, Coco Money)

“Big Fish” hits you early with swagger. The production is aggressive, percussive, and unapologetic. It positions Gold as someone who’s earned his space and won’t let go. He invokes not just wealth, but integrity, declaring “I work for my money, not handouts.”

In “Don Corleone”, he aligns himself with authority — the Godfather vibe — combining traditional Fuji cadences with modern swagger. His wife Simi reportedly appears in background support vocals, reinforcing that personal dimension.

“Bobo” (feat. Lojay & Shoday) leans hard into danceable grooves, blending Fuji drums with melody. It reminds listeners that this project is not a museum piece — it’s meant for the dance floor, for joy, for mass engagement. The vivid contrast between street percussion and romantic hooks works well.

“Coco Money” is an audacious track: it samples Rihanna’s “B!tch Better Have My Money”, layered into a gbedu-inflected beat. It’s bold, slightly polarising, and signals that this is not retro cosplay — it’s fusion. Some critics argue the interpolation dilutes Fuji purity.

2. Love, Legacy & Vulnerability (Tracks: Believe, My Love Is The Same, Love Is An Action, Many People)

This is where the album softens. “Believe” samples “Just the Two of Us” (Bill Withers), translating its romantic core into a modern Yoruba love letter. It’s heartfelt, elegant, and shows the longevity of his voice.

“My Love Is The Same” shifts focus inward. It reads like a message to his family — his daughter, his wife — not to the crowd. Amidst the high energy, this is quiet strength. Critics mark this as one of the album’s emotional peaks.

“Love Is An Action” experiments with tempo and texture: it flirts with Amapiano stylings, yet keeps a Fuji backbone. It feels like he’s debating modern trends — adopting them, not succumbing. Some say it’s one of the weaker moments because the shift is too sharp.

“Many People” is a crowd anthem. Featuring Yinka Ayefele, it borrows from his “Mi O Mo J’orin Lo” to connect generational sounds. It’s a celebration — he’s made it. But it’s also subtle humility: many people support him, many people doubt him — this is for them all.

3. Pressure, Reflection & Transcendence (Tracks: Attack, Only God Can Save Me, Lailo, Oba, Simile, I’m Not Done, Obimo)

“Attack” teams him with rising acts Mavo and Santi. The beat is gritty, the voice direct. He’s entering battle mode — for relevance, for legacy.

“Only God Can Save Me” features Davido. It’s confessional: he touches on fame’s cost, moral checks, and keeping faith in success. Expect standout moments where two heavyweights merge soul and swagger.

“Lailo” is gentle, folk-inflected, spiritual. It strips away the bravado, leaving voice and lyrics. It feels like a late-night prayer.

“Oba” issues royal declarations — “I will live life on my terms” — but it is grounded. He honors tradition but refuses stagnation.

“Simile” (with Soweto Gospel Choir) feels cinematic. It’s one of those moments where you hear “world album” in the arrangement. The choir elevates the track to spiritual and sonic depth.

“I’m Not Done” and “Obimo” close the album reflecting restlessness and gratitude. They drive home that this is not the finish line but a checkpoint. He’s conscious of history, pushing toward the unknown.

What Works & What Wobbles

Strengths

Ambitious Scope: Few Nigerian pop albums commit so openly to culture, identity, and risk. Adekunle takes his name Fuji seriously.
Cohesive Sequencing: Reviewers note how each track transitions—this feels like a narrative journey, not random singles.
Cultural Relevance: He doesn’t appropriate Fuji; he channels it. In “Don Corleone,” “Many People,” and “Bobo,” the drums, cadences, and Yoruba inflections carry authenticity.
Vocal Poise: His voice holds nuance — it can be loud, smooth, pleading, or strong without feeling inconsistent.

Weaknesses / Criticisms

Dilution of Fuji Purity: Some listeners expected more traditional instrumentation (gan gan drums, agidigbo, praise chants). On a few tracks, the Fuji influence is subtle. Critics argue interpolation (eg. in “Coco Money”) occasionally overshadows authenticity.
Sudden Genre Jumps: Moves into Amapiano or pop influence can feel abrupt (e.g., in “Love Is An Action”). The transitions sometimes jar with expectation.
Overload of Feature Expectations: Rumours before release had heavy features like Pharrell, Swae Lee, Pasuma, etc. He clarified some features were misreported. Some fans felt the actual guest list was less striking.

Cultural & Industry Impact

Adekunle Gold releasing an album called Fuji in 2025 isn’t just about making music — it’s repositioning a genre. Fuji has always existed in the margins of mainstream, seen as niche, local, or retro. But AG is asking: What if modern Nigeria heard Fuji again — not as throwback, but as evolution?

His move is part of a broader trend: Afrobeats artists re-rooting in indigenous sounds (Asake’s Fuji elements, Burna’s dancehall+Africana, etc.). Fuji may be his most daring bid yet to re-center Yoruba heritage in global sound.

Commercially, early reception is strong — the singles Bobo and Coco Money were already making waves. The album is making noise on streaming platforms, charts, and social media buzz. Bringing Fuji to modern playlists, AG invites global ears to a deeper sound palate.

Fuji is a bold, multifaceted project — not perfect, but daring. It may not satisfy purists in every bar, but it stakes claim on a long overdue narrative: that Fuji music can evolve, modernize, and still retain its soul.

As a body of work, it’s one of Adekunle Gold’s most personal, ambitious, and sonically textured. Fans hoping for a pure Fuji album might raise issues — but those who come with open ears will find one of 2025’s most compelling Nigerian albums.