Burna Boy – ‘No Signs of Weakness’ review: a bold genre experiment with messy execution

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Burna Boy has always been a musical daredevil, in love with wielding once self-contained worlds together to carve out his own niche. First, his party-led, almost dancehall approach to Afrobeats tore up the world with ‘L.I.F.E’. Fast-forward to 2019 and his breakout album ‘African Giant’ pushed him into global dominance.

But the Yoruba star never liked staying boxed in, leaving Afrobeats behind to embrace a more fluid Afro-fusion identity. He blended genres that once felt distant, even antagonistic, and fused them into mega-hits like the Jeremih-sampling hip-hop anthem ‘City Boys’ or the wistful, chest-beating ‘Last Last’. On his latest album, ‘No Sign of Weakness’, he keeps that same genre-blending ethos alive – but this time, the execution stumbles.

In theory, this should be Burna’s most daring record yet. He calls on trap innovator Travis Scott for the sharp-edged single ‘TaTaTa’, ropes in Shaboozey for what might be the first proper Afro-country hybrid with ‘Change Your Mind’, and even dips into lovers rock with the smouldering ‘Sweet Love’. There are moments where the risk pays off beautifully. ‘Kabiyesi’ is a house-leaning, floor-filler tune: spiritual yet rave-ready, Burna’s voice dances above the four-to-the-floor pulse like a preacher in motion.

‘Empty Chair’ featuring Mick Jagger, as odd a pairing as it sounds, turns surprisingly soulful once you settle into it. Though the Rolling Stones frontman’s drawl and those early power chords might throw you off, the Afroswing-style bounce and Burna’s confident, growling cadence bring things back to Earth. “I’ve been everywhere and seen everything,” he boasts – and you believe it with his musical approach.

The aforementioned ‘Change Your Mind’ is a standout for a different reason: it’s soft and sincere. The pairing of warm acoustic guitar and the shekere’s delicate rattle shouldn’t work on paper, but it’s dreamy in delivery. It’s one of the few tracks here where the innovation feels led by feeling, not just by genre-mixing flair.

Nostalgia works on ‘No Signs Of Weakness’. ‘28 Grams’ is great textbook Afropop and feels like cuts from his earlier works, its hedonistic vibe similar to the fun-loving Burna who first burst onto the scene. ‘Come Gimme’ – the ‘00s R&B-inspired, Spanish guitar-led ballad – is a sultry throwback to the days of bedroom slow jams and soapy heartbreak videos on Channel O.

But across 16 tracks, the boldness buckles under its own weight. The title track’s breathy, unpolished vocal makes it feel like a reference take rather than a finished statement, turning fiery bars like “The likkle frog better not jump up and leap / The .44 gon’ make am slumber and sleep” into cartoonish theatrics instead of sharp menace.

Then there’s ‘Love’ – a lukewarm ballad that drifts off before finding purpose, weighed down by generic sentimentality. ‘Update’, one of the album’s previously released singles, interpolates Soul II Soul’s ‘Back to Life’, which strips the song’s grit and leaves behind a polished but forgettable echo. The album’s sequencing only adds to the mess: genre experiments, ballads and boast tracks crash into each other with little flow or narrative glue.

‘No Signs Of Weakness’ plays more like a curated playlist of experiments rather than a fully realised body of work: it lacks direction, the momentum sputters, and even some of the more ambitious tracks could’ve used another round of sculpting. In an attempt to reach as wide as possible, Burna Boy ends up clipping his own wings, delivering more of a flex than a fully-formed vision.