'Barrystar Vol 2' Review: Barry Jhay's Formula Wearing Thin

Barry Jhay's 'Barrystar Vol 2' Falls Flat with Repetitive Themes

Barry Jhay's 2025 album 'Barrystar Vol 1' saw him sing for fame whilst embracing pop melodies that carried his yearning for solace, comfort, success, and a palpable concern for his safety in a cruel world he endlessly chronicles. On the second instalment of 'Barrystar', nothing appears to have changed. Barry Jhay retains his familiar themes of gratitude and reflection whilst finding time to sing about the good life.

The first thing listeners will notice in this 17-track album is that the son of Fuji music pioneer Alhaji Sikiru Ayinde Barrister seems to have run out of subject matter, or at least is struggling to find new ways to express the familiar thoughts that have shaped his releases since he announced himself on the 2020 album 'Barry Back'. For most of the 45-minute runtime, he leans on his rich melodies and witty, heartfelt lyrics, yet a bulk of these songs feel like reworkings of previous releases.

Album Highlights and Low Points

On the opening track, he thumps his chest with a pop rap flow over a Fuji drum progression before shifting into a mumbled melody, insisting he is not a one-hit wonder over a three-step Afro house production that feels at odds with his vocal approach. When he delivers the album's strongest moments on the reflective and curiously brief 'Igi Aruwe' and the gospel-inspired 'Motide', his familiar spiritual yearning for victory makes for an enjoyable experience.

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He follows it up, however, with a tame and uninspiring gospel-tinged collaboration with Ehizay that feels more like belabouring a point than a genuine exploration of a Yoruba and Benin cross-cultural exchange. His words are barely audible on 'Let's Go', where he gives the three-step Afro house beat some breathing room. The punchy flows on the brief 'Comot Body' provide some reprieve before the album embarks on an unforgettable ten-track run that makes the 45-minute runtime feel considerably longer.

Vocal and Production Issues

His vocals fail to inspire on the dance track 'Ecstasy', where even Reekado Banks' decent verse cannot rescue the song. On the love tune 'Jogodo', his sprinkling of Hausa clashes with his ad-libs and distracts from whatever sweet-talking he intended to deliver. The recurring issue of vocal crowding, whether a mixing problem or an inability to properly arrange his vocals, is most prominent on 'Eko', where he preaches the gospel of the good life that having money can afford you in Lagos.

When he sings about hustle, ambition and drive on 'Teramo', what the song lacks in novelty it partly recovers through a strong hook. His slow-burning pop rap flow on 'Grind' could have used a guest verse for variety, whilst his barely audible yearning for blessings on 'Sati' and 'Amaridi' should simply have been left out of the album. Even when he enlists Blaqbonez for a rap verse, neither artist puts their best foot forward.

Cultural Identity and Final Verdict

The closing records 'Al Jannah' and 'Au Revoir' only reinforce the feeling that this album would have been better served by a significantly shorter tracklist. However, despite the album's many flaws, there are good moments. Barry Jhay's decision to embrace his cultural identity is commendable, particularly at a time when many artists water down their use of Yoruba for a more urban sound with broader commercial appeal.

And despite the strained, often inaudible vocal moments, he remains a capable vocalist who can evoke real emotion when everything aligns, as it does on the compelling 'Igi Aruwe'. A remix featuring the likes of Seyi Vibez, Fola, or Asake could transform it into a significant moment. At any rate, Barry Jhay has captured the spirit of the streets through his street gospel, hustler's creed, and motivational melodies for nearly a decade. It may be time for him to find new ways to celebrate his wins, share his ambitions, and express his faith. As it stands, the formula is wearing thin.