The journey of life for many artists, upon success in more ways than one, is a familiar terrain they find themselves in. One that leads home. But for Llona, it’s a diary of questions; an endless unravelling of memories, experiences, places and people that leads to himself. Unlike others, home is never one place or state for him. So when he released his debut album Homeless, it’s because he has never been used to settling in one place given his nomadic life from Kano to Lagos. Not by chance or intention. But the experiences that made and scarred him — from young Michael Ajuma Attah to Tooclassiq to Llona — have always kept him at bay.

I GIVE YOU MY SECOND ALBUM- On The Road.

We were ‘Homeless’ together 2years ago, and now we are ‘On The Road’ side by side like we have always been.
These are the stories, the emotions that i felt On The Road. pic.twitter.com/d1rlA6L99W

— Llona (@Boyllona_) June 3, 2026

And despite encountering fame, success and a cult-like fan base with the critically acclaimed project, Llona is still on the road. He embarked on a nationwide tour in a bid to connect to the ones who resonate with his deeply emotional, vulnerable melodic tunes resonant to the everyday Nigerian. A successful movement that would catalyse his next project two years after his debut. It’s from this journey that he chronicles his experiences on his sophomore album On The Road.

But he’s still the same: raspy yet crispy vocals, philosophical lyricism, and emotionally dense melodies. But this time, uncovering different layers of himself across monologues. Helped by Black Sherif, Morello, and Fridayy alongside longtime producer OG Sterling, the 12-track Afropop project with Jazz influence plunges into trust, resilience and masculinity beneath his signature mellow sound.

On “Monster or Not,” he soliloquises, questioning his inner thoughts and the outer world. The soulful violin makes an entrance as he wrestles with the ruthless version of himself that he has become on the road. “I for don die if I was a weakling,” he acknowledges this version is what kept him alive. Yet, on the chorus lies a doubt from that change that has pushed him to the edge. And from stripping that dangerous masculinity is where “Anger Management” stays put. Like a therapy session, he lets out an outcry about his raging temper that he constantly wrestles with.

The vulnerability deepens with the entry of “Cry,” featuring Black Sherif. Beyond this being a collaboration where the Ghanaian act has consistently remained a pivotal element in Afro Pop, it underscores the shared weight of emotions from the duo. One where they have masked themselves under the curtains of fame. Helped by Morello’s evocative vocals, “Different Pictures” deeply introspects and reminisces on the ramifications of fame and success. Llona finds himself tracing the early days of friendship and togetherness to his loss of innocence, drifting relationships, and the loneliness of success.

“Turbulence”, marked by a hip-hop cadence and chest-thumping flow, follows closely. Upon embracing the weight of success, he shows his insatiable thirst for ambition with bravado and resilience. The rock guitar riff crowns the track’s groovy listen. But when “True Colors” seeps in, Llona alternately struggles between trust and lust despite his self-asserted militance. “Masculine Love” captures a critical narrative of love rampant in today’s society from a masculine perspective. “I want you to be proud of you / don’t want you to suffer silently…” Where women are constantly taught to hate men, he counters it with the chorus.

“Look At Me” calls Fridayy for a gospel-esque collaboration where the duo cling to survival, resilience and guiding light, as they navigate dark times. The track’s choral backdrop against their harmonising vocals begs for a repeat listen, as it underscores the cry for guidance. The weight of success is felt more deeply on the choral backup track “Pressure”, where Llona strips every restraint in vulnerability. It’s a standout track where he finds himself raw, gritty, navigating how to fulfil the expectations of others and his desires.

Through his sojourn, he is met by a staggering, harsh reality check on how unforgiving the world can be. This public scrutiny, especially for him, is what he measures this on track 10, “N****s Don’t Get Love”, using lines like “My fame is my own prison,” and “Nobody coming to save us.”

Signing out on the project, the cadence slows down with two tracks, “Won’t Die” and “What Do I Do?” Where the former sees him refusing to throw in the towel in defiance and resilience, the latter is where he chooses to make peace, not just survive but live in the moment. Glorying in his reality, he raises questions about his future as he looks ahead.

Once again, Llona proves that a deeply resonant, cohesive body of work isn’t far-fetched if the experiences that shape it are honestly told. It doesn’t come short of expectations; it hits deeply at the heart. And where his previous album saw him scavenging through his emotions, On The Road offers an extension of himself he could only see and learn while in motion.