Asake’s M$NEY: A Safe Bet or a Missed Opportunity?
There’s something oddly predictable about Asake’s latest album, M$NEY, and it’s not just the title’s dollar sign gimmick. After breaking free from Olamide’s YBNL Nation and launching his own label, Giran Republic, you’d expect Asake to unleash something bold, something that screams independence. Instead, M$NEY feels like a retreat into the comfortable, the generic, the safe. Personally, I think this is the most intriguing aspect of the album—not its sound, but what it reveals about Asake’s mindset.
What makes this particularly fascinating is the contrast between Asake’s past work and this new release. His earlier albums, like Work of Art and Lungu Boy, had a raw energy, a friction that kept listeners on their toes. The street-coded lyricism, the genre-blending experiments, the rhythmic unpredictability—these were his trademarks. But on M$NEY, that edge is gone. The Fuji-tinged Afropiano sound is still there, but it’s been smoothed out, diluted into a jazz-infused haze that feels more like background music than a statement. Tracks like ‘Rora’ and ‘Oba’ are pleasant, sure, but they lack the grit and dynamism that made Asake a global star.
From my perspective, this shift isn’t just artistic—it’s strategic. Asake’s decision to go independent comes with pressure. Without the safety net of a major label, every move feels calculated. M$NEY seems designed to appeal to the widest possible audience, a come-one, come-all approach that prioritizes accessibility over innovation. But here’s the thing: Asake’s appeal has never been about playing it safe. It’s been about pushing boundaries, blending cultures, and creating something uniquely his own. By stripping away that complexity, he risks losing what made him special in the first place.
One thing that immediately stands out is the album’s religious theme. Asake has always woven spirituality into his music, but on M$NEY, it’s front and center. The Soweto Spiritual Singers open the album, setting a reverent tone that Asake never deviates from. Tracks like ‘WORSHIP,’ ‘Gratitude,’ and ‘Forgiveness’ are straightforward in their messaging, but they lack the depth and nuance that made his earlier work so compelling. What many people don’t realize is that religion in music can be a double-edged sword. Done well, it can elevate an album to something transcendent. Done poorly, it feels like a checklist of spiritual buzzwords.
This raises a deeper question: Is Asake using religion as a shield? His 2024 music video for ‘Only Me,’ where he threw money while wearing Christian regalia, sparked accusations of blasphemy from fans. While M$NEY isn’t a direct response to that backlash, it’s hard not to see it as a pivot toward safer, more universally acceptable themes. In a culture where wealth is often seen as a moral test, Asake’s reluctance to engage with the tension of being ‘Mr. Money With the Vibe’ feels like a missed opportunity. Wealth, in Islamic thought, is a trust from God—a responsibility, not a trophy. Yet on M$NEY, Asake treats it more like a status symbol than a subject worth exploring.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the album’s brevity. Most tracks clock in under three minutes, just long enough to establish a mood but not long enough to develop it. It’s as if Asake is afraid to linger too long in any one place, to risk alienating listeners with complexity. But complexity is what makes art memorable. It’s what invites repeated listens, what sparks conversations. By keeping things short and sweet, Asake sacrifices depth for accessibility, and the result feels more like a curated playlist than a cohesive album.
If you take a step back and think about it, M$NEY is a reflection of a broader trend in the music industry: the pressure to be universally liked. In an era of streaming algorithms and social media backlash, artists are increasingly playing it safe, avoiding controversy at all costs. But what this really suggests is that Asake, despite his newfound independence, is still bound by the constraints of commercial success. The freedom to do whatever he wants hasn’t translated into bold artistic choices—just safer ones.
In my opinion, M$NEY is a missed opportunity. Asake had the chance to redefine himself as an independent artist, to push the boundaries
