Adeoluwa Adebisi Unpolished Comedic Brilliance

By Michael Kolawole

Adeoluwa Adebisi, popularly known as MC Crown, created a loose, infectious moment with his Osogbo Street Jazz 7.0.

Clad in a lemon green traditional wear (Buba and Sokoto) and standing on a makeshift stage stacked with four drum sets, a keyboard, and two guitars, MC Crown paced around, working the crowd. “Do we have any okada man who can play the drum set,” he asked in Yoruba. Okada riders are the motorbike taxi riders ubiquitous across Nigerian towns and cities.

An Okada rider in the midst of the crowd raised his hand. MC Crown invited him onto the stage, locked eyes with him, and promised he could win a car if he played the drum set skillfully. The Okada rider smiled, watching as MC Crown dipped a hand into the breast pocket of his buba. He glanced around and asked, “Where is my car?” The crowd began looking, scanning the space around them, but unaware that there was no car to find. “Well, I don’t have a car. I took a bike here,” MC Crown said with a chuckle. The crowd laughed at the joke.

MC Crown pressed a crisp #500 note into the Okada rider’s hand. The man thanked him. The MC smiled but explained it was an advance payment; when the show ended, the Okada rider would take him back to the park. The crowd chuckled.

MC Crown asked the Okada rider if he could play the drum set. The man answered that he could and the MC asked him to prove himself. The Okada man sat behind the drum, anxiously waiting to play it.

MC Crown handed the drumsticks to the okada rider, who asked for a keyboardist to accompany him. “You’re holding those sticks like they are your okada handle,” the MC said in Yoruba, without dropping his gaze from the okada rider. “Please, handle them with care. Don’t break them. Mind you, the sticks have no break handles. So, don’t attempt to press it or else they will break.”

A keyboardist climbed the stage, obliged to play along with the okada rider. But the rider’s drumming was hesitant and ragged, it sounds more like a novice practising some rhythm. “It seems you’re trying to perform the drumming pattern of the National Anthem,” MC Crown said to the okada rider, who nodded his head in agreement.

The MC sang the National Anthem and the okada rider continued playing incoherently. The crowd cheered when the performance was over. “Why are you guys cheering for a bad performance?” the MC asked the audience. One of the audience members asked MC Crown to play the drums if he believed it was easy. “I can play it but I don’t like showing off my skills,” the MC shouted.

From the beginning of the show, MC Crown thrives at improving jokes while engaging with the crowd. His sighting of the okada rider and bringing him on stage shifts the energy of the show from an organised one to a community-driven spectacle. His hyping, occasionally interjected jokes, and humorous encouragement of the okada rider to play the drums keep the audience invested in the “unknown” performer.

The okada man on the stage diverts the crowd’s engagement from MC Crown. The comedic irony between his humble appearance and his unsurprisingly incompetent drumming skills makes him the centrepiece and comic charm of the event. The crowd’s enthusiastic reaction to the okada rider’s unprofessional drumming, a fish-out-of-water situation, gives the show its authentic energy that a rehearsed one often lacks.

MC Crown’s comedic improvisation and pacing, however, are at times disjointed. His reliance on filler phrases, shouting and screaming where talking would suffice, and erratic stage management distract from his comedy and the pseudo-musical rendition. These defections make the transition between acts slightly unpolished and chaotic.

The MC Crown’s ham-up stage presence lacks technical structure, though it’s entertaining. His interaction with the crowd, then the okada rider, is prolonged. It lacks a clear-cut narrative arc, which at times becomes boring. Also, the audio quality during the transition and the initial hype phase makes it hard to grasp some of the MC’s interaction with the audience and commentaries, almost watering down the impact of his jokes.

As a street entertainment, the event succeeds because it makes no pretence of polish. MC Crown’s comedy draws its strength from spontaneity and unpredictability. The okada rider is not planted as a stooge but a genuine volunteer, and the crowd knows it. Tighter transitions and clearer audio could have improved and sharpened the experience. But those irregularities are what give the production its street appeal.

What the Osogbo Street Jazz 7.0 offered, at its best, was the particular energy of a performance that could not have been rehearsed.