A Safe Space – Yinka Bernie
Yinka Bernie’s latest EP is a short collection of music which encourages you to feel uncomfortable emotions instead of burying them. On ‘Something New,’ Yinka Bernie confronts feelings of loneliness, sadness and heartbreak, as heard on ‘Who Do You Call’ and ‘Its Okay to Cry.’
Its great that Yinka Bernie’s music exists in this current landscape of Nigerian music, where many artists typically feel the consistent need to promote joy, happiness and escapism through their work. With the terrible exchange rate, rampant floods across the country, the memory of the End Sars protests still very vivid in our minds and numerous other socio-political issues in Nigeria, I understand why many artists decide not to sing about uncomfortable emotions or anything that reminds us that sadness is an inevitable part of life. However, when an artist like Yinka Bernie reminds his audience that ‘Its Okay to Cry,’ it feels refreshing, authentic and real. It feels like a young Nigerian is telling other young Nigerians that we don’t have to pretend things aren’t hard, we don’t have to be strong all the time and its okay to let go of perfectionism.
This is not to say that Yinka Bernie makes depressing music because I don’t think he does. From my perspective, he creates music which is a safe space for sadness but his music does not serve as an avenue to wallow in it. This is evident on the fourth track of the EP called ‘Smile Before You Sleep.’ Everything about this song – from the title, the lyrics and the way the background vocals are layered towards the end, feels very comforting and soothing.
On ‘Something New’ Yinka Bernie subtly shows a sense of humour and lightness through his inclusion of the ‘’YB why? Interlude.’ The start of the interlude sounds like an Oríkì. In Yoruba culture, an Oríkì is a song or poem which praises its subject. It is typically sung alongside complementary talking drums at celebratory events, such as weddings, funerals, naming ceremonies and festivals. An Oríkì makes you feel confident, it makes you believe in yourself and aims to inflate your ego depending on how elaborate and intricate the words or lyrics are.
Yinka Bernie doesn’t finish the Oríkì, instead he lets it trail into the voice of a woman adamantly inquiring about new music. Yinka Bernie does not clarify whether the woman speaking on the interlude is a close friend or a fan of his work (who doesn’t know him in a personal capacity). Regardless, she might as well be the latter because of the candid and honest manner in which she addresses Yinka Bernie. Despite the uncertainty about her role in Yinka’s life, she sounds like an encouraging friend who also holds you accountable for not sharing your work consistently.
The woman chasing Yinka for new music and the initial start to an Oríkì may be isolated events, but they serve a similar purpose. Through the subtle blend of Yoruba tradition (through the Oríkì) and modernity (through the more standard interlude, which is typically a voicenote or telephone conversation), Yinka Bernie indicates that his work is worthy of praise. It matters deeply, not just to him but to his audience as well.
