Alright, let’s dive into this gem of an album—Yaanom Professional Band by Yaanom Professional Band. Yeah, it's as raw and real as it gets. Released in 1981 in Nigeria under Muomaife Records (and its sibling label Muomaife Groovy Records), this thing is steeped in African vibes with a big scoop of Highlife goodness. If you’re into Folk, World, & Country music but want something that feels alive, like your feet can’t help but move kind of alive, then buckle up.
Now, there are nine tracks on here, but two stuck to me like jollof rice on a Sunday afternoon: “Why You Hate Me” and “Odo Bera.” Let me tell ya why these hit different.
First off, “Why You Hate Me”—man, this track just grabs you by the soul. It’s got that smooth Highlife guitar riff looping around while the percussion taps out rhythms so natural they feel like breathing. The vocals? Oh, they’re pleading, almost conversational, like someone sitting across from you spilling their heart over palm wine. There’s no pretense here; it’s honest pain wrapped in melody. I kept replaying it because it felt personal, like the singer knew exactly how many times I’ve wondered why folks don’t always get me either. That connection? Rare.
Then there’s “Odo Bera,” which flips the mood entirely. This one’s celebratory, full of life bursting at the seams. The horns come in bold, not shy at all, and the groove locks you in like a warm hug from an old friend. The call-and-response bits make you wanna join in even if you don’t know what every word means. It’s infectious joy bottled up in five minutes. Honestly, after hearing this, I found myself humming random parts for days. Like… days. It’s one of those songs that makes you forget whatever stress you had before pressing play.
The rest of the album keeps the energy flowing too—"Obiara Bewu" brings some serious depth, and "Red Card" has this cheeky vibe that sneaks up on you. But really, the whole project feels like a snapshot of a time and place where music wasn’t about chasing trends—it was about telling stories, sharing truths, and making people feel something.
Reflecting on Yaanom Professional Band, it strikes me how timeless this stuff is. Even though it dropped back in ’81, it doesn’t sound dated. Maybe that’s because it wasn’t trying to be anything other than itself. And honestly? We could use more of that now—music that doesn’t try too hard, just speaks straight to the heart.
Oh, and here’s the kicker—I listened to this album during a rainstorm, windows open, letting the sound mix with the raindrops outside. Felt like the universe gave me permission to chill and just exist for a bit. Funny how music does that sometimes, huh?
