“Mother Nature stands as a testament to Angelique Kidjo’s capacity as a singer and celebrates the brilliant minds behind this project.”

Angelique Kidjo is gracing our ears once again with her signature sound: gripping vocals, groovy Afrobeat, all rolled together with some quality instrumentation. Compared to 2019’s Celia, 2021’s Mother Nature is a project of solidarity, a celebration of diversity in the traditional sense as much as a good testing ground for Kidjo’s musical curiosities. Such a tightly packed roster of features seems almost overkill until you start to listen and realise the depth of character they offer to the track listing. It comes in dizzying highs and dim lows, but the strong tracks far outweigh their weaker counterparts, and even the tracks that fail to earn their spot are only falling short because their concepts are vastly outperformed in neighbouring tracks. As you can imagine, this makes for an exciting if inconsistent and, at times, even skippable listen start to finish.

‘Dignity’ slaps. It’s got that energetic summery groove to it that you really can’t beat in a rhythmically dense poppy track such as this, interspersed with some gorgeous instrumentation. There’s even a moment on here, hidden away in that bustling mix, where the string sections evoke that gorgeous bridge in Daft Punk’s excellent ‘Giorgio by Moroder’, a welcome inclusion of a tried and tested sound that, when used right, only expands a track. As a result of this and the myriad other factors at play here, ‘Dignity’ is an excellent second step on the road this album paves. 

What is it about the word “Africa” that just works so damn well as a lyrical hook? Syllabically speaking, it’s got it all, and the corresponding track utilises the word itself as both identity and as a musical linchpin, holding the entire thing together. With a double feature, ‘Africa, One Of A Kind’ is a great (and danceable) little moment of solidarity between black artists, everyone bringing their own zest to the finished product. 

Title track ‘Mother Nature’ is subdued and featureless by comparison to the three tracks preceding it but, with some soulful sax jazzing around in the background and percussion strong enough to hold its own even against the more energetic tracks on the album, it makes up for it. Deciding to take a more explicitly moralising approach with this track, as opposed to the already established strength of Kidjo’s moral character from previous lyrics, works well for the title track, giving it a much more intimate and poignant spot in the listing. 

‘Do Yourself’ isn’t a standout track, especially given its familiarity to previous outings, but the two vocalists have a charming sense of back and forth that renders it distinct within the album, albeit a touch generic on a broader scale. That’s okay, after all not every track on every album is going to be a game-changing anthem for the ages, but it would’ve been cool to hear something more interesting for the Burna Boy feature. Otherwise, it’s fits comfortably in the album’s broader context and it’s an easy listen to coast along before ‘Meant For Me’ can move things along. It’s a sweet poppy love song, much more pointedly a love song than anything else we’ve heard so far, and it’s got some more of that sweet groove, layering catchy lyrics over a thick stew of percussion that works to great effect. The only issue is that the “thick stew” in question is really quite dense; I can’t help wondering about an alternate reality where the mix on ‘Meant For Me’ was crisper, allowing for a more meaningful approach to those percussive elements. Sadly, this muddiness hobbles the track from being as strong as ‘Dignity or ‘Africa’.

‘Omon Oba’ elevates the Afro to the level of the pop, fostering an artistic sincerity, compounding the ever-present solidarity of the album, and opening the doors to a string of tracks which well-utilise explicitly non-anglophone lyricism to elevate themselves from the unsteady territory of ‘Meant For Me’ and ‘Do Yourself’. The one-two punch here is the excellent singing on ‘Free & Equal’, which features a Sampa the Great feature on par with Kidjo’s vocals. At practically the dead centre of the listing, this makes for a superb height, and we’re left with the assurance that we can walk a plateau after summiting this musical peak, rather than falling off a cliff.

At the time of ‘Fired Up’, you start to wonder if Kidjo is hiding some elusive stash of powdered groove that she has sprinkled across the album. Even in the lower moments, (almost) every track has a consistent summery funk to it that enhances what we’re given with a rich aesthetic. This track in particular is especially worthy of any “Beach Vibes” playlists you might be curating. It deceptively feels like another slow jam, starting with the titular line and easing us in with some smooth, nigh-Thundercat smooth, bass as the primary instrumentation, peppered with percussion and synth and then supremely catchy backing vocals by the time you hit the chorus. The features here also work wonders, with a solid verse from Ghetto Boy and Namali and David at Blue Lab Beats working their magic. Mother Nature is proving to be quite the generous matriarch.

‘Take It Or Leave It’ might have sounded better had I not first heard some of the earlier tracks, as it merely retreads familiar ground in another of the less inspired moments on the album. It makes ‘Mycelium’ stand out even more. It brings some great French vocals, further broadening the cultural scope of the album while delivering a track quite unlike anything else. Moodier. It’s late into the album for Kidjo to undertake such a tonal shift but it reinvigorates the listing and breaks things up. This is the reason that only almost every track has a consistent summery funk. It’s a great change, especially preceding a closing pair of fun and upbeat tunes that just makes you want to dance, and stands out among the selection of singles released for the album.

Closing with two danceable (albeit politically conscious) tracks seems about the safest choice for the album, trading the more adventurous moment for two more in keeping with the album’s established formula. ‘One Africa’ manages lyrically to incorporate country names in a way that doesn’t feel forced or jarring, while also maintaining a vice grip on the “Cha Cha” part of its extended title. Final moment ‘Flying High’ may not literally fly high to the pinnacle of Kidjo’s artistic achievements here but as a closer it’s more than enough to ease us out of the near-constant energy of the journey we’ve been on. Keeping the thematic wheels spinning through the to very end, Kidjo knows how to stick a landing.

Beyond that, the only real issue is that the process of listening end to end is a bit overwhelming. Had the album been three or four tracks lighter, I can’t help but feel as though it would’ve been able to better maximise its output. As it stands, this is still a great album, packed with dense and energetic instrumentation and some gorgeous vocals, whether sang by Kidjo or brought by the ensemble of features. Some moments give themselves enough room to breathe; others not so much, resulting in a spectrum of quality. Because of this variance, it’s reassuring that one can listen start to finish to this wide a spectrum of tunes and come out having enjoyed the majority of them. Ultimately, Mother Nature stands as a testament to Angelique Kidjo’s capacity as a singer and celebrates the brilliant minds behind this project, even where it could have left a track or two on the cutting room floor and gotten away with it.