Revisiting Classics : An in-depth analysis of Merchants, Dealers and Slaves by Brymo Olawale

Merchant, Dealers and Slaves was the album that relaunched Brymo's presence as an independent artiste after his split with Chocolate city.

 At first glance, it seemed Brymo would take to the wax to speak out against his former label, but when we bought and listened to it, it was a sonically beautiful presentation that spoke from the perspective of an ordinary Nigerian. Brymo indeed, as he had always done, took off the veil of stardom and class from his face and adorned the average Nigerian's kaftan, singlet or Alobam T-shirt, depending on what part of the country you hail from.

But it bugged many, as it did me. After such a tumultuous break-up, why would Brymo's experience as a label artiste not seep into his music? Till extensive listens made me realise that Brymo is an old soul, and an old man does not speak with the aid of every muscle in his mouth, rather, he uses nuances to drive his point across.... effectively.

The album started with 'Truthfully'. A love song where he personified heartfelt music, or his true desire, in this case with an unnamed lady, later revealed to be Titilope.

'Money' had Brymo thinking of what he could do with cash. The smoke of love had waned as he referred to how he had once promised to stick with his ex, Titilope, a promise he broke after the hunt for money intoxicated him. This track ushered in a more upbeat tempo for the album, a tempo that would last through his travails, to show that Brymo opened his eyes to the things of the world and tried to obtain them. This track, like the whole album also stands alone in the way it tackles the concept of money. Undulating between afro and pure rock music, eventually delivering a deserved ode to the god of money.

'Eko' had Brymo leaving his village, leaving his naive 'hopeless romantic' mindset to search for greener pastures in the city of Lagos. He edified the sinful and joyous life he brought to life in ‘money’, and in his euphoria, took shots at Titilope for not being open minded enough to keep up with the fast life.

He referenced an old time mentor who believed in the ideals of Lagos on Grandpa. At this time, his initial immersion in this world of debauchery had simmered since he himself had used his feet to test the waters and was disappointed by its lack of depth.

And in this discovery, everything came crashing down and chaos ensued. The song, Down is a raw presentation with happenings that just shouldn't be, confusion, pandemonium.... a literal shit show where everything is turned upside down.  ‘Down’ retains little element of the upbeat funk the other songs had, but the sombre mood slowly crept into the album.

And in the view of this chaos, Brymo got reflective with Cheap Wine. Remembering his roots and taking in the negatives with a positive outlook. He had become completely disillusioned by the life in Lagos and he longed for the quiet life again.

And with this, Brymo left Lagos and went back to the Village. Annotated by the Town Crier in the beginning of Purple Jar. He arrived home a more experienced man, but he was bitter about all that happened. The anticlimax of his experience weighed him down and he attributed part of the blame to himself, admitting he liked to 'eat his cake and have it'.

In his reflection and low point, Brymo developed a nihilistic view to the world on Everyone gets to die. The true way Nitzeche intended for it, instead of saying life is pointless and wallowing in sorrow, you rather enjoy the time you have. You understand it...and live it.

Still in the spirit of deep soul searching and epiphany, Brymo finally addressed the futile struggle to be liked, respected and accepted in society. He finally accepted that he was not ‘Lagos’ material, he was himself and he was satisfied with that. The chorus stuck out, using an old yoruba adage to drive home his point... that no matter what you do, how many obstacles you face and scale, the people that will like and respect your art will do that, the people who won't, simply won't.

The last track rounded off the experience with Brymo totally free of his demons and expectations. Knowing the worth of freedom and how far he had come, the eponymous track provided the final reflection and outlook on the album as it closed to beautiful instruments.

But why Merchant, Dealers and Slaves? What did it have to do with his Label problems? Titilope was a personification for true music in the first song. The second song showed how his eyes glowered at the sight of what money could do... even dumping Titilope to travel to ‘Lagos’, which was a record label/the industry.

Brymo diluted his core music to satisfy his label where he made more accessible, albeit quality music. Grandpa referred to a mentor who was deep in the music but didn't see things in Brymo's perspective and after a while, things turned awry.

This awry turn caught him by surprise, made him second guess his abilities and eventually, himself and then he decided he would manage the little he had as long as he could do what made him happy. And so, Brymo left the label, and he did so unceremoniously as he said in Purple Jar that he burned the bridges down.

After this, he became unsure of himself and had to pick up the pieces again. Everyone Gets To Die and S'e Botimo were tracks that were integral to the philosophies that helped him heal. Slowly, he picked himself up and became free. Free of the label, free of unhappiness and free of the chains that was ‘Lagos’.

And so we had the title, Merchants, Dealers and Slaves. Where we, the consumers are the merchants, the labels are the dealers and the artistes, remain the slaves.