“Hoodie SZN” by A Boogie wit da Hoodie: The Soul Circumference of Personalized Bristly HipHop

The most laconic assertion I can make in this review is that Boogie SZN is from The Bronx, and that has labeled him a Star. Rap was born in The Bronx and so are the struggles of this young star on the rise; one of the first impressions I received from this album was its colorfully acoustic/bluesy feel it possesses; the next listening impression was how much depth and soul is encapsulated in each composition and verse of lyrical fusion of anger and confidence. Hoodie offers an abundance to his listeners: lyrical melody, soulful backgrounds and orchestrated use of acoustics and theatrical layouts of message and meaning. Key elements of surprise are his voracious arrangements of lyrical monotone, simplistic but effective use of background synchronicity and acoustics, and a lavish display of emotional realism that is not often captured in such a selected genre as Hoodie SZN is meant to stand.

In the past few years, Hip Hop stars have gained notoriety and then vanquish without a trace; they become so energized that their sun of creativity implodes on the zenith of their artistic Olympus; this will not be the case, I think, with Hoodie; there is a symmetrical imbalance that he gleefully illustrates in every composition he sets out to create. Consequently, he regales us with energized emotion and regulated passion. Such songs as ‘Voices in my Head’ give the listener a musical vision of colliding conflicts of bursting regrets and hard lessons learned; this is swiftly accompanied with thunderous piano brutality subtlety strewn along the path of musical meter of each track. There are episodic occasions where the music is purposely mismatched and uneven; there is even guitar parts that compensate for the long-lost turntable magic of the early 90’s hip hop that is long extinct or, perhaps, on the back burner of current artistry in this fabric of genre. 

At any rate, this harmonic experiment of acoustic leathery and fashionable eloquence of dynamic spirit that transcends into genuine mistrust of women has caused some of his admirers to question his artistic identity and purpose. I think this is a mistake; I believe this album to be authentic and cleverly calibrated to convince his listeners of his seriousness on developing into an artist of pure originality and vivacious conviction of conversion. But he does not accomplish this alone; his guests on this work are an integral part of this subtle process, and it is brought to perfectly ripe fruition by all the carefully arranged magic and realism that this album has accrued. No sequence suggests exaggeration. No lyric is misspelled by regret or folly; everything has happened in entire perfection. The entire mood of this project is the ethereal acquaintance of mastering discipline and externalizing integrity, even if it is grotesquely polished by misapprehension of exculpating results.

© 2024, Mark Grago. All rights reserved.