The Microwave Era has been the term attached to the behaviour patterns of individuals in the current millennium. It’s infinite consumer choice, next day delivery, highlight reels on social media and instant gratification. We want things now, we’re impatient and if one thing doesn’t satisfy us, we’ll swiftly move onto the next thing that will.

This has naturally affected how we consume music. The streaming era has given us infinite choice and the ability to curate playlists to our likings. But it’s meant we throw away albums if they don’t captivate us with on the first listen. We’re ruthless and very unforgiving of artists and their work. We discard and disregard music at a faster rate than we did 10 – 20 years ago. This has distorted how we listen to music and make judgements of it.

For these reasons, I listened again to Big Conspiracy, J Hus’ sophomore album, and sat with it, sat with it way longer than I had done when it was first released two months ago.

On Big Conspiracy, J Hus reunites with producer and his musical anchor, Jae5, and co-producers TSB and IO to create his most eclectic body of work to date.  Hus doesn’t attempt to recreate the euphoric opening he gave us on Common Sense, but instead, he opts for a more melodic and smoother approach. Producer TSB chooses a single-line ostinato which joins J Hus as he croons about finding his enemies ‘You don’t have to find me if I’m looking’ for you’. A saxophone takes over the ostinato from the guitar bringing the song to a close, so lazily and hypnotically that you forget the song is a threat. J Hus does the same thing on Must Be, the masterful production from Jae5 makes you forget that J Hus is serenading us about carving out enemy lines ‘You’re guilty by association’ he taunts on the chorus. The eery bass line, long-legato ad-libs from the saxophone and the captivating crescendo from the strings in the middle 8 make this song a stand-out on the album.

J Hus is known for his playful and charismatic lyrics. Take Cucumber, he bounces along to the beat, rhyming words that you wouldn’t naturally think to rhyme. He elongates and distorts the pronouncication of Cucumber so that it somehow rhymes with October ‘I met that girl back in October, so I gave her the Cucumber’ (Genius!). Despite all the Play Play, Juju J is just as reckless as he’s ever been and always war ready. ‘Call on all your riders/Call on all your strikers/Me, I don’t even fear death/You don’t know me, I’m fearless” he shouts on No Denying. At all points, J Hus is adamant on reminding his enemies that he’s not just fearless, but invincible.

Big Conspiracy is complex and layered, just like the man behind the matrix. J Hus navigates his Gambian identity as he attempts to find his place within diaspora. His journey mirrors the prodigal trying to return home.  ‘Me I love myself ‘cause I’m black and I’m gorgeous. Why they wanna kill us for natural resources?’ he raps on Deeper Than Rap, the most pensive track on the album. On Deeper Than Rap, he raps about colonoliasm, colourism and culture. On the final bars of the song, J Hus raps ‘Then go to Africa for spiritual cleansing’. Traditional religion seems to be Hus’ fortress and by the end of the track, a more settled and assured Hus emerges – sounding like the prodigal has made his way home.

Back in January, Big Conspiracy was somewhat gripping, but the grip wasn’t strong enough to warrant replay.  I discarded it a few days after its release and waited for the next album release which would tick all my boxes.  Big Conspiracy is a slow burner and an album that grows on you. I’m glad I came back to it and sat with it a little longer, something us music listeners can do more of in this microwave era. On Big Conspiracy, J Hus is more mellow, more measured, but just as menacing.