By: Emmanuel Waziri Okoro
In Nigeria, musical expression does not ask for permission. Beyond the refined surface of Afrobeats, there are diamonds in the rough who reach out from the underground and grip tightly to the ladder of musical ascension. Street-hop, like many other sub-genres within the Nigerian musical landscape, emerges from the concrete neighborhoods where music is not just an escape, but a record of endurance. “Ishe”, the collaboration between MartinsFeelz and Kayzmoore produced by Mr. Vonn, embodies this completely. Without embellishment or facade, the trio crafted a record that encapsulates the hope that emanates from these concrete neighborhoods in a collective search for self-actualization.
At just 2 minutes and 44 seconds, “Ishe” is not expansive in song length but it is rich in intent and content. The record’s foundation comes with flair as its rhythm is built on tight percussion, with the kicks arriving at consistent intervals. Mr. Vonn avoids the temptation to make his production convoluted. He avoids spectacle, instead focusing on a structure that possesses a steady pulse that echoes the labor the artists speak of. Mr. Vonn has a clear understanding of the sonic landscape of Nigerian music, and it is evident in the way this production was crafted.
MartinsFeelz steps in first. His delivery is clear-eyed and measured, serving up his performances in an inspired and ultimately simple fashion. He doesn’t crowd the beat. His flow is sparse but purposeful, each bar spaced out to allow the one before and the one after to resonate. There’s a quiet intelligence in how he allows the beat to shine, acting in full service of the song’s spirit. Here, less was certainly more.
Kayzmoore’s verse arrives as a reinforcement and complement to MartinsFeelz’s performance. He appears on the record with a little bit more urgency, his voice imposing itself on the beat in a persuasive manner that gets the point across. There’s no flash here, no posturing or borrowed confidence. Just grit, and the language of lived experience. The synergy on show highlights exactly what is possible when two talented artists link up on a masterful producer’s work.
The subject matter is familiar. Similar to many street-hop records, hard work, aspiration, and the quiet war of self-determination are present as themes in this record, but the execution gives it weight. “Ishe” doesn’t pretend to be an anthem. It is closer to a testimony. In a scene where songs often try to inspire by overcompensating in certain areas, “Ishe” draws power from what it chooses to present to the world. It doesn’t need to be more than it is, because it already knows who it’s speaking to.
Mr. Vonn’s decision to not overcomplicate his production gives the record an air of mastery. He allows the drums to do their work, forming a skeleton upon which the artist’s emotions can rest. The beat guides the artists and the listeners, giving room for the words to carry their own weight. This is production as architecture: with each element an intentional, supporting beam.
But what makes “Ishe” particularly effective is that it understands the genre it belongs to without becoming a prisoner of its tropes. Street-hop has often been seen as Afrobeats’ gritty cousin, valued more for its rawness and honesty over its refinement. Yet this track encapsulates all those qualities without influencing the soul of the record. Here is a song that carries the urgency of the street and the discipline of skilled songwriting. It reminds listeners that evolution is not always about transformation. Sometimes it’s about returning to the root with new tools.
In the end, “Ishe” doesn’t promise success. It doesn’t offer fantasies. What it does offer is belief — in effort, in repetition, in showing up even when nothing moves. And in that sense, it is more than a song. It is a quiet vow.
and then