It took the time it took, but Mimie's very first musical body of work is (finally) here. Its announcement grabbed media attention and heightened anticipation, less for the novelty of what it would be for the artist but rather more for the PR sandstorm it had blown in its wake. Mimie's much-publicised kerfuffle with her former label (and the comments from the social media crowd decrying her evil overlords and the feudal system that had left her ploughing for five years in the field of single releases, without much prospect of a career advancement) all culminated to a publicity boost which she never might have otherwise gotten.
The gods seemed to smile in her favour as billboards of her in Ballantine's newest campaign popped up in major cities just as she released this EP. Design or coincidence? We wouldn't know. What is clear, however, is a two-pronged outlook of what could be the aftermath of all this. If Soundsation, a portmanteau of sound and sensation, doesn't sit well with the public, it will be because of itself and not despite itself.
If it does sit well with the public, then it would open further the bleeding wounds of the question around major label-backing in our frail music ecosystem; whether it's worth the trouble and perhaps the ensuing headache we have seen played out over and over.
This project was ushered three months ago with the song Wolowoss - a semi-militant anthem that teeters uncertainly on whether it wants to advocate for the empowering of the word wolowoss or whether it wants to surf on the over-washed plotline of "people don't take time to know my struggles but call me all kinds of names when I'm successful." How many times have we heard that? One too many. But the public has never seemed to tarry of it. And so it has become the ultimate cheat code, and Mimie ran along with it, dosing it with just enough mentions of Wolowoss to get her ambiguous message through. That being said, the song is easy on the ears, melodious with a strong potential for becoming an earworm.
The EP itself opens with the song Mama, another rite-of-passage, it would seem for every Cameroonian urban artist. Hardly any one of them doesn’t have a song for their mother, every other one of these songs as insipid and as lofty as the next. Mimie doesn't escape from the claws of this predicament as the song's composition can't decide on whether it wants to be an album opener (in the characteristic style of an opener) or if it wants to be a great tribute song. Another ambiguity. Nothing helps it; not even Mimie's stacked, smooth vocals. And so the song falls flat on itself and is very quickly forgotten.
The EP continues its run with the song Runaway, which is perhaps the one song on the album with the potential for becoming something of a hit song. It's schadenfraude-esque and rather serious theme contrasts sharply with its semi-upbeat rhythm and soft, island tones. Eerily, one can see how passive listeners could easily dance to it. Mimie has managed to make the topic of child abandonment something of a club song. The song is as good as the moral dilemma its places on the listener. Should I dance? Should I listen and reflect? Or should I do both?
The EP continues with the song "Body," a much slower zouk-influenced ode to a lover that is dipped in a veneer of mating calls. Though being on a similar sonic wavelength, the song isn't Faya, Mimie's very first hit song. Body holds its own weight no doubt, but it lacks the spark that Faya had to burn it through to a climactic end - which in itself is a bit of shame; although that takes nothing from the song.
"Fallin" is another song that holds its own weight in the EP. It's effective at conveying its core message - that of a lady who's fallen deeply in love with their partner and tells them in not so many creative ways how and what they feel for them. The song follows something of the Blueprint of Wolowoss, with a very catchy and memorable chorus that will sit well in a 20-seconds TikTok video.
The EP starts winding down to its end with "Terminer," an upbeat song that feels very much out of place with a sound that would have been great in 2016/2017. Great percussions and great rhythmic soukouss guitar carry the song over some very uninspired lyrics. Clearly it was song designed for the dancefloors, except that for 2023 it is very stale and lacks the freshness that the mainstream sounds have today.
The EP closes with "Pas ta vie," a Mangambeu song that touches on the topic of gossip. This is not Mimie's first anthem at incorporating sounds from her native west region into her music. Ma'aleh, released in December, 2020 felt a little flat-footed. But this.., this actually has a great potential. The song, like Terminer, feels out of place on the EP, but what it has for being out of place, it makes up for a real pleasant listen.
Unlike Ma'aleh which was heavy with the fusion in its composition, 'Pas ta vie's stays really close to its source material and the Mangambeu is as unadulterated as it comes. Not to mention that the simplicity in its lyrical composition follows the codes of Mangambeu. Pierre Didi Tchakounte would indeed be very proud of his contri-girl.
All in all, it is safe to say that Mimie does not disappoint. The puclic might be inclined to give her some grace after her much-publicised label troubles, but that would not be necessary in any way to give this project its worth. It may be the case, but it doesn't sound like she went into a dusty hard drive and picked out songs that she could put out and finally earn an entry on Wikipedia for EPs released.
The songs may not be very contemporary to 2023, but the sound is fresh enough to not feel a bifurcation. Runaway, Body, Falling, and Wolowoss are all really good songs. “Pas ta vie” is tangential to the prevailing sonic offering of the album – afropop - but it is so good it makes you forget that. The writing isn’t the greatest out there, but it is very far from being bad, and certainly better, overall, than what Mimie herself has often done.
Where this body of work falls short is in its lack of exploration. It doesn’t push the boundaries and tries to test other waters to see what it can do for itself. Whether you think or not that it was a good thing for it not to hop on a trend like Amapiano, it doesn’t do too much justice to itself by playing it safe and not trying to push its sonic boundaries and style. Mimie plays it safe by just giving a slightly refined version of what she has always done.
Good thing her pre-release PR could give her a saving grace as the public will be more satisfied to see an EP attached to her name more than they would want to hear the vision of the content that it proposes. Surely, it might not be so forgiving with the next releases.
All in all, this is a good piece of work and the project will live well for the short term. If we were to grade it, we would give it a good 7.9/10.