In December 2024, Davido announced 5IVE, his fifth studio album. First slated for release in March 2025, then postponed to April, the period between the first announcement and eventual release saw him pull off one of the most impressive album rollouts in Afrobeats history.
From receiving a handwritten letter directly from the global head of Martell, to partnering with PlayStation, to appearing on popular American radio shows like The Breakfast Club, and even popping up in a recent episode of I Said What I Said podcast, he took the album and its stories everywhere. At a time when his peers chose social media rants and taunts, punching down at their most accessible Nigerian audiences, Davido shunned drama and rage-baiting for positive fan engagement and town hall-style discussions.
Given the immense success of his time-themed trilogy of albums, it wasn’t clear what direction this new album would take. But 5IVE screams, ‘new phase.’
We can now let go of the side-eyes toward the vague and sometimes incoherent definitions he gave during the album’s promotional run.
Numbers go beyond counting time, money and the days of our lives. In numerology, five represents freedom — a desire to explore, to embrace the unknown, and to experience life in new ways.
Nigerian poet Alhanislam opens the album by articulating its core ambition. Though Davido’s attempts at explaining 5IVE did make it sound like it could have also been called An Album About Nothing, her spoken word intro clearly breaks his message into five parts: life, music, family, freedom, and legacy.
Though performed in English, the spoken word intro evokes the feeling of African praise singing. The type that’s rendered like panegyrics to make the head swell. This traditional touch seeps into the album art, too. Davido stands among four colourful masquerades in the middle of nowhere. While he hasn’t explained the image, it hints at ancestral reverence, maybe even the suggestion that he’s an extension of a collective spirit.
Following Alhanislam’s reckoning intro, the album holds up a mirror to Davido’s current state of mind. He’s confident, assured and triumphant. From the defeat of Goliath reference in “Anything” to his cup that runneth over in “Be There Still,” OBO leans into the biblical symbolism of his namesake — sprinkling allusions to David’s legend across the 17-track album (all his albums have 17 tracks).
Sonically, the album leans heavily into fast-paced Afrobeats, Amapiano and house music, sometimes all at once. In the past two years, this kind of sonic fusion has defined the Afrobeats landscape. It’s a sound Davido first attempted on 2014’s “Tchelete” featuring South Africa’s Mafikizolo. It resurfaces in “Be There Still”, which kicks off a streak of woman-inspired tracks.
His intentions seem genuine — the production supports his desire to be seen as a better partner — but the language of love and romance here feels flat. At times, he sounds indistinguishable from a Twitter crypto bro who only has money to impress. His expressions lack depth, and it doesn’t help that his songwriters either phoned it in or sat this one out.
“CFMF (Can’t Feel My Face)”, “Offa Me” featuring Victoria Monét and “R&B” featuring Shenseea and 450 offer mildly satisfying love-drunk night jams.
“10 Kilo” is delightful. The “Orobo, ten kilo” line blares with so much passion that it may otherwise suggest it as a personal kink turned into a song. Think the orobo-loving Davido in the “Dodo” music video. But more importantly, it’s a nod to the African beauty standards now widely replicated globally (hello, BBLs). It echoes Sound Sultan’s “Orobo”, a classic that celebrates plus-sized women. Long-time Afrobeats listeners will catch the homage.
“Don’t Know” and “Awuke” with YG Marley are groove-chaser-meets-love songs. Let’s keep it real: the rhythms are more likely to woo a love interest than the bland lyrics. Afrobeats has long prioritised tempo and melody over emotional resonance — a tradeoff that’s good for replay value but not always for connection. And here, it often feels like we’re listening to a man who loves women but struggles to say anything meaningful about them beyond cheesy catchphrases and quirky, street-generated one-liners. At 30+, shouldn’t there be more to say?
Even his nuptial tales would sound more heartfelt. He has been trying to put himself in a better light, purging himself of youthful exuberance, getting married, and even unashamedly dropping a disclaimer about completely shunning infidelity during an interview at The Breakfast Club. But while the interview seemed earnest, the music doesn’t quite follow through. Everything still screams “finding love in the club.” Davido often frames relationships as transactional — luxury in exchange for affection — and nothing in the music convincingly challenges that.
That said, the production value stays high. Shizzi, Loudaa, Dayo Grey, Blaisebeatz, Jon P, Tempoe, Ucee and others deliver a seamless listening experience. The music picks up halfway through the album, and the energy never dips.
“Holy Water” shines with the assistance of Musa Keys and Victony. “Nuttin Dey” finds him cocky and unbothered. “Titanium” with Chris Brown finds the frequent collaborators celebrating growth. Davido attempts to lay down his burdens on “Lately” — the song bites off the intro of Asake’s “Dull”, but it doesn’t inspire its wistfulness. The last three tracks, “Funds”, “Lover Boy” and “With You” tie things together nicely. The pace never lags. It’s groove after groove. After all, why not dance like David did?
Davido, much like his biblical namesake, is a king who loves music, God and himself. When he’s not these things, he has no new songs — his psalms, if you’d like — to write. This album is his hymnal — expressing a range of emotions, predictable but sincere, reflecting where he is in life. Although it falls short of Alhanislam’s prophecies and has overall average writing, its melodies and choruses are memorable. It’s packed with sleeper jams, and it may take listeners a while to warm up to some of the tracks.
All in all, 5IVE comes with no drama. It centres on Davido and his resilience, one that must be applauded, in an industry where he has scaled the “rich boy” agenda, survived scandals, faced trolls, and has been ridiculed by both fans and colleagues. This is a celebration of that, a pickup where his Timeless album left off. 5IVE is far from his best output, but it’s a decent effort and a solid foundation for what’s to come.
