So it’s nearly 2am and I am working on my laptop, and all of a sudden, my eyes fill with water.
I probably sound confused right now, but wait until you have three Westlife albums blasting through your earphones, and see if you wouldn’t have the waterworks.
Music like this makes you begin to think of many things and see issues where there are not. You just want love and sunshine, and everything bright and yellow. as ‘Oh Mandy..’ is seeping into your ears, you become Mandy, even when your name is Popoola. And those voices, the mix of Shane and Mark and Brian and Kian and Nikki…they make you daydream about the streets of heaven while you fan yourself with raffia leaves behind your mud house.
Songs like these marked my childhood. Songs so slow with lyrics so deep yet so simple your ten-year-old self could understand and relate to them all. (I am not a bad shaid, but even I knew what love felt like at ten. And I’m not talking motherly love here, please. hihihi…)
Johnny Drille is one Nigerian singer who is beginning to give me that vibe. Oh, and Nonso Amadi. And maybe Ric Hassani. Adekunle Gold too, sometimes. Listening to them makes me think about my life, and not in a bad way. In a warm, fuzzy, life-is-a-plate-of-chicken-wings way that just steals your breath.
And may I just quickly add: Enya and Yanni cannot make heaven. *mops face*
Well, I just thought to stop by and tell you to cry when the songs play. I bet there’s some health benefit to crying to the sound of good music. There has to be.