ALBUM REVIEW: Joy Oladokun Reckons with Success on ‘Observations from a Crowded Room’

Joy Oladokun has some things she needs to say. The charismatic folk-pop artist, whose website describes her as “first generation daughter of Nigerian immigrants and proud queer Black person,” has seen her profile rise dramatically in recent years, thanks in part to 2023’s winning Proof of Life. But that’s been a dubious blessing for the Nashville-based singer-songwriter, judging by the electrifying Observations from a Crowded Room. Blending resentment, pride, and hope, this unvarnished self-portrait reveals a soul in torment, eager to share her fraught emotions.

An understated performer whose gentle voice suggests an intimate exchange between close friends, Oladokun doesn’t mince words on Observations, lamenting how being vulnerable in her art has taken a toll on her psyche. It’s close to a one-woman show, with Oladokun producing, playing nearly all the instruments, and composing most of the songs alone. There are no attention-getting duets with Chris Stapleton or Noah Kahan (both of whom appeared on Proof of Life) this time, although Maren Morris co-wrote one tune and sings background on another.

Observations begins on a shocking note, with Oladokun quietly observing: “Sometimes I think if I got lost and drowned out in the river / No one in this town would cry / They’d just breathe sighs of relief,” and confessing, “These days I sure regret / How much of me that I have given,” and remains in that dark vein on subsequent tracks.

The album includes spoken-word segments in which she gets to the heart of her concerns. In the first, Oladokun asks, “Where is the safe place for someone like me?” In the second, she bristles at being regarded as a “hypothetical” who must represent others like her, retorting, “Joy doesn’t need to do anything for you.”

Oladokun’s melodies are so engaging it’s almost possible to overlook their glum underpinnings. From the faux gospel of “Drugs” (“I’ve been running on empty and calling it strength”) to the soaring “Dust / Divinity” (“Though it hurts me to believe / It kills me not to”) to the wistful “flowers” (“I will keep on standing tall”) her catchy songs would be big hits in an alternate reality.

The clouds start to lift in the final spoken-word segment near the end of this stirring album, when Oladokun takes comfort in knowing her music helped people, even as she rejects responsibility for making others feel better. She revisits that thought on the epic closing song, “Goodbye,” an elegant masterpiece Paul McCartney would envy. Declaring she’s “walking away when the feeling’s right,” Joy Oladokun asserts the importance of prioritizing self-care, giving others permission to do the same.

Joy Oladokun’s Observations from a Crowded Room is out today via Amigo Records/Verve Forecast/Republic Records.