Boogie Tape Vol 1. is undeniable. That's it. And that's enough. The 2019 tape from the Virginia-based solo, pop singer and producer Shomey is her most concise statement of work as well as her most plainly infectious. This may be hard to believe, but its effect isn't owed to anything that pulls the listener in or that forces a response out of them. The music just kind of leaves you alone. It lets you be. And that's why it feels so gracious and important. It lets you come to it, allowing you to set the pace of your approach. Knowing that once you get a glimpse, it's going to be hard not to want to see more. This softly persuasive formulation to pop music is definitely unique and definitely necessary in a media environment that often feels bullying in its demand for your attention. Shomey's work is not only beautiful but softly powerful. It feels firmly empathic how both independent and complimentary the melodies and grooves of the opening tracks of the
Boogie tape are. The wavy soul of "Boogie Island," with its cozy sauna of lofi organs, playfully bats at the vocals like a cat with a silver ball of yarn, feels delightfully permissive and receptive to your mood- portraying a sense of openness that is maintained on the juicy disco fog of "Cruise!" It's all magnificent. I'm a sucker for '70s era sounds, so obviously, I love this tape. But upon reflection, I don't know that Shomey could achieve what she does on this release without pulling from the aforementioned decade. That era just had a kind of "go-your-own-way" vibe to it and its aesthetics seems to lend to her work a philosophy of personal fulfillment and satisfaction that is hard to argue with or turn down. Not that I'm inclined to, mind you.
