"Thist 48" paints Boogie as a promising artist with lots of potential and a level of honesty rarely seen from his peers.
The Internet has had a huge impact on music. Gone are the days artists have to stand in front of label offices handing their demo to anyone nice enough to take it; the web provides direct access to possible fans and labels alike. Yet and still, most new artists are introduced to the masses through a larger artist and major record labels. Bloggers scour through heaps of trash links in an attempt to discover the next Chance the Rapper, and not ignore the next Odd Future. When said artist is introduced to the general public, their Internet fan base can wax about how great they were before other people knew of them. Thirst 48 could be a chance to love an artist before they receive the attention they deserve. With Thirst 48, Long Beach’s Boogie provides another portrait of what life is like on the West Coast. And while some of the colors may be familiar, the approach and style of Boogie set him apart from a lot of the other artists who came before him, and most of those currently active
Thirst 48 opens with “Save Me,” which finds Boogie singing far before you hear him rap. At first listen, it appears Boogie does have a similar voice to Chance, so comparisons between the two are understandable; however, throughout Thirst 48, Boogie does a decent job of differentiating himself. On “Let Me Rap” Boogie spits, “Now let that resonate / Same shit that got you feelin’ bomb can make you detonate, don’t hesitate / Tried to elevate her, but she gotta learn these steps / As she stares in that mirror, what the fuck you think reflect / It ain’t no real shit, never put a chain over niggas I’m in the field with / And never let a ratchet leave me whipped.” Boogie does a decent job of flexing his wordplay skills across the project.
Throughout the course of Thirst 48, Boogie frequently emotes. While Drake has often been the Internet’s whipping boy for displaying emotion, those conveyed on Thirst 48 feel less like whining and more like openness. “Bitter Raps” finds Boogie displaying his disgust with popular trends. The simplistic beat doesn’t distract from Boogie’s rhymes, yet it provides a drum kick hard enough to get heads nodding. The backdrops throughout Thirst 48 vary. While horn sample and simple drum pattern of “Let Me Rap” will remind older listeners of some mid ‘90s soundscape, while “HighSkoo Interlude” employs a bass heavy, Hyphy-inspired, Bay area sound. No matter the backdrop, Boogie adjusts effortlessly.
Comparisons are great. They allow writers the ability to throw a name out with ease, and they give the reader an ability to believe they have an understanding of an artist without reading. At first listen, comparisons between Boogie and Chance the Rapper may be understandable. However, after several solid listens to Thirst 48, a better comparison would be Thirst 48 to Kendrick Lamar’s Kendrick Lamar EP: a solid project, clearly West Coast without the over reliance on regional clichés. It paints Boogie as a promising artist who seems to have lots of potential and a level of honestly rarely seen from his peers