The Sunday News
Bruce Ndlovu
WHEN he announced that he was releasing his single, Ronika, on Thursday some fans, may perhaps have been hopeful of the return of the “old” Jah Prayzah.
Before the continental nominations and collaborations with the likes of Davido and Mafikizolo, Jah Prayzah was just a boy from Uzumba, connecting many to their roots with his mbira and a catchy tune.
On the evidence of his latest song that boy is gone. Or at least he is in storage until his new album.
Over an up-tempo beat, Jah Prayzah continues the job of reinventing himself.
Those that have endured the last two albums, hoping that Jah Prayzah goes back exclusively to his old sound, will be disappointed.
There’s nothing of the old Jah Prayzah here. Instead a thumping Afro beat, punctuated by rhythmic bursts of a saxophone, guides Jah Prayzah as he sings about nothing in particular.
The song is catchy and sounds like the songs that dominate playlists in urban nightspots. Gucci, Versace and other labels are name dropped in the song, and it is perhaps fitting that the song was launched at Sankayi, a club whose owner has made such labels his trademark.
When Military Touch first showed Zimbabwe it’s roaster of artistes, they seemed a diverse cast whose styles would see every listener get music tailored to their tastes.
Over a year later, nothing much seems to separate Jah Prayzah and ExQ.
Indeed one can imagine the smooth urban grooves operator sitting down with a pad and pen writing some of the verses in the song. The Tamuka beat would also not sound out of place in the hands of ExQ, a man whose versatility has seen him reinvent himself countless times.
Lyrically, the song is lightweight and it is perhaps fitting that the song comes a week after Winky D unleashed Parliament, a song that inspired much head scratching and speculation.
Winky D and Jah Prayzah are destined for endless comparison as long as they remain on top and coming a week after one another, the songs go a long way in casting Jah Prayzah as the lyrical deficient pop act between the two.
The video is what those that have followed urban music over the decades will hardly be surprised by. Skimpily clad women dance and jump around Jah Prayzah, who also seems to have acquired a few new dance moves to go along with his new sound.
Ever since he started on his crusade to rebrand himself, many have been questioning Jah Prayzah’s true identity. Some still crave to see the return of the mbira wielding Jah Prayzah whose music was labelled contemporary.
But on the evidence of this latest song and video, that man is gone. He’s likely to make brief appearances on his upcoming album as Jah Prayzah once again tries to pull off his tightrope walking act of trying to hold on to his old audience while making sure that new fans keep dancing.
Past forays into urban genres have paid off for Jah Prayzah, with hits like Nziyo YeRudo keeping him relevant to audiences that might not have given him a second look in the past.
But compared to those songs, the latest feels a bit off the mark, perhaps due to the fact that Jah Prayzah feels a little naked in this borrowed style, a style not supported by his impressive cast of cross continental collaborators this time.
As he continues on his new path and his star continues to soar, some might wonder whether he has departed too much from his old style. The hits and accolades keep coming but it may be at the expense of his identity, as he increasingly seems like a man fleeing the shadow of his former self.
