One group hails it as an unprecedented display of creative valour, making it the most iconic submission by a Ghanaian musician in a long time. A more cynical faction simply can’t fathom the fuss, and deems the work an ostentatious picture of contradictions.

Whichever standpoint you take on the Gringo debate, the attention that it has commanded since its release is massive, and seeing that it is in Wale’s nature to be controversial, more so ahead of a new album, the debate has proven wildly profitable. 'Gringo' currently sits atop both iTunes and YouTube lists.

Directed by the famed Sesan Ogunro (who also shot the singer’s 'Bulletproof' video) the seven-minute video/short film complements 'Gringo', the first single off the dancehall firebrand’s forthcoming album The Reign. It is also his first major release since joining Zylofon Music.

Clearly this wasn’t just another release, hence the pomp attending its making and eventual release.

Since the turn of the decade, Shatta Wale, known to his mother as Charles Nii Armah Mensah, has remained at the heart of Ghana's showbiz discussion. A combination of factors has ensured his perpetual residence on tabloids in these parts. For one, he has been a core contributor to what songs truly move Accra. “We dey drop hit song each and every year,” he said on ‘Don’t Try’, a scorching 2016 single.  

At the time he made that claim, he had amassed an extensive catalogue to back it up, and his infinite penchant to unleash street anthems with little effort grounded the claim. For another, he is abrasively fearless, and many of his actions have kept him in the news. Lastly, his fierce charisma has courted and won a mammoth constituency of disciples. It takes something to be Shatta Wale.

Joining Zylofon has now given Wale access to a bigger budget, and though official numbers are yet to be published, there is ample evidence in the Gringo video of heavy investment. This is the result of Zylofon's approach, which as has been pontificated to us all along, is a drive for cultural imposition. Ghana has so much wealth in terms of culture, but for a long time, the rest of the world has tasted it in little doses. With Zylofon, the world be inundated by Ghanaian culture.

And yet, it is difficult to identify anything relating to this theme in the highly-publicized work—not in the song, and not in the video, which was shot in Texas, USA. If anything at all, the reverse appears to be happening. Shatta Wale seems rather enamoured by, and is keen on perpetuating the cowboy culture. This causes great unease. But hey, he made country folk sway to dancehall music. That’s something.

In the video, El Shatta, played by the artist, having won the heart of Jasmine, the beautiful girlfriend of the dreaded sheriff Snake Eye fights to defend his love and honour. Insofar as it captures Shatta Wale’s heroism, the work is well-made. The remarkable journey of an outlier who, against all odds, swoops in fearlessly to challenge the status quo, and prevails, is rendered via a powerful narration and arresting cinematography. That it doesn’t really do justice to the song is topic for another paragraph.

The school that holds that the video conflicts with the song, presents a solid argument: the song loiters about many themes which are hard to piece together: approved apparel for a “bad man”, how far into the womb a good penis should reach, rapper Cardi B’s luscious body, why Shatta’s crew is the talk of town, who is custodian of the best marijuana, bleaching, domestic violence etc.

On the song, he hollers at one gringo; in the video, he turns out to be the gringo (which translates from Spanish as “stranger”). It sounds like Shatta was led by rhyme and not much else, for the dissonance couldn’t be more glaring, and its substance is lost on the consumer.

Typically, Shatta Wale would rather release music than publish a video because the streets don’t demand much: just provide a link to download the song. Because he’s modelled his career on street love, music videos have never been the priority. It is apparent in how many of his hits cannot boast of fitting accompanying visuals, or visuals at all. Indeed, sources close to the singer, say he only recently got purged of his ambivalence towards publishing music videos. He might even deserve some accolades for releasing as many music videos as he did last year.

In a way, Wale does have a point; a good song doesn’t need a video to sell. But when a musician gets to the heights that he has, a music video—a great music video—becomes fundamental. Backlash beckons if it arrives as anything less than the quality expected of an A-list name.

Shatta Wale hardly gets plaudits for what a self-promotion mastermind he is. And if a music video is now a prerequisite, it will be made only on his terms. More likely than not, the brouhaha surrounding the video to 'Gringo' was all deliberately planned, and in a boardroom somewhere at East Legon, a group of people are popping expensive champagne, laughing and congratulating one another.

Artistically, a video does so much for a song or album in terms of determining its overall tone, and even serving as an extension of the work. David Nicol-Sey’s first couple of videos off Sarkodie’s Highest achieved this in capturing the overall feel of the project. It is unclear that 'Gringo' will do same for The Reign, besides making it showbiz fodder.

But Gringo will fly, solely because it relates to Shatta Wale. His fans will find a way to seize mainstream buzz. But it is unconvincing, especially going by the singer’s own standards. After the Storm, his last album, followed several explosive singles, including ‘Mahama Paper’, ‘Chop Kiss’, ‘Kakai’, ‘Hol It’, ‘Kill Dem Wif Prayers’, ‘Bie Gya’, ‘If I Collect’ and ‘Dancehall King’.

Same can't be said about The Reign, which remains very much a mystery at this point. But perhaps this new approach makes all the difference, and posterity will prove the merit of 'Gringo’, and, by extension, The Reign’s.