The path of posthumously-released projects is one often taken by the estates and the record labels of departed artists in earnest attempts to retrace the creative footsteps of the past in order to recreate new footprints. From scrounging scraps of recorded yet unfinished works to marinating works which spent years on the shelves of the vaults to refurbish the taste, the output of posthumous albums is generally a chancy dice throw, which either results in an opus that mimics the verisimilitude of the deceased musician or conjures up a wan apparition of the artist whose creativity pales in comparison to previous works. South African rapper and singer-songwriter Riky Rick’s posthumous album, Boss Zonke Forever, is wedged between these two extremes, offering intimacy and Boss Zonke’s signature authenticity while also leaving much to be desired on the production side of things.
Primarily produced by Herc Cut the Lights and alongside the likes of Mashbeatz and Yumbs funneling their expertise into the making of the album, Boss Zonke Forever is a 59-minute-long hip-hop LP infused with trap and also layered with influences of R&B and soul. True to the essence of what made the “Sidlukotini” superstar the grootman of the game during his time under the sun, the feature list of the album is a kaleidoscopic roster of established and rising stars including: Cassper Nyovest, Blxckie, Focalistic, Lwah Ndlunkulu, Nia Pearl, Dee Koala, Focalistic, Baby S.O.N., 25K, Lucille Slade, Lloyiso, and K. Keed among others.
Riky Rick | SUPPLIED
One might think, just from one glance, that the album must be watered down with too many voices; however, it is the feature curation which serves as a consistent highlight throughout the album. From Cassper’s emotionally resonant showing on “Emotions” to the crooning triumvirate of Lloyiso, Lucille Slade, and Aubrey Qwana on “Rain On Me”, and from the performances of the squad on the posse cut “Cishe Ngaposta” to Nia Pearl’s trilling presence on the interlude named after her, every visitor’s contribution adds to the tributary celebration that the album shapes up to be – a get-together of sorts of artists from all walks of life and inspired by their respective lanes musically. Both young and old are present in their fullness, and the curation colours the album, which would otherwise be drab and repetitive.
Boss Zonke Forever explores a range of themes encompassing divine guidance (“Higher Power”), fashion and opulence (“Never Let Me Down”, “Cishe Ngaposta”, and “Eish”), the superstar status (“The Chant”), love and longing (“Unsangikhumbula” and “Owami”), and hustling and hardship (“Rain On Me”). And yet, the potency of Riky’s musicianship shines best when he dons his reflective cap, such as on the opening song which explores the existential dread of dying a failure and being cognizant of spiritual powers influencing his destiny and on “Ndiyabulela”, where he extends epistolary thanksgiving to his mother and father for raising him to the man he was. The “Nafukwa” hitmaker had a solid reputation of being one of the most prominent voices of reason in the game and a trustworthy dispenser of advice. And with tidbits fletched at the cusps of some songs to serve as bookenders, Riky’s legacy as the uncle of the game was a poignant touch on the creative side of gluing the album into a unit.
Riky Rick | SUPPLIED
However, there is a space of soullessness that occupies the album and rears its head either to snap the momentum of the tracks or to blunt the strength of the message. And this is hardly helped by the production which drones and is punctuated by needless interludes, however well-executed they are. A song like “Raindrops”, taken as an exhibit, is a standard slow-tempo trap song with a rumbling bass. The performance behind it is uninspired with a monotonous refrain that stretches way too long that needs to. “Eish”, on the other hand, is dominated by Blxckie, and it reeks so thoroughly of him, it is one of those songs that would’ve been better placed in a Blxckie LP or thrown out as a standalone single.
Boss Zonke Forever is an album that strains its hand to reach for everything that is inherently Riky, but it lacks the personal final touch that would’ve taken it a notch higher in personality and creativity.
Preview Boss Zonke Forever:
