Boompa cascaded into my personal stratosphere last week when my band was somehow smacked by divine providence onto a very, very sick lineup. In a scene you’ve seen before: the evening was a few acts underway, and we masses were huddled in the crisp Allston air, kissing the last of our cigarettes away and shuffling back with curiosity to the next set of performers. Upon reentry, whatever few lights were previously lighting the room had been relieved of their duty; save the glow of moonlight and streetlight peeking in through the windows, the only illumination came from the flashlights artfully placed behind a few multicolored Nalgenes nestled amidst the band. With the steady drone of one saxophone, Boompa had taken the stage for a homecoming after a tour around the northeast for the recent release of Body Cries, their new album on Odd Gift Records.
Boompa is a local five-piece that’s been together a couple years (borne of NEC with conservatory chops you can hear, smell, and taste). This is the latest we’ve heard from them since a tasty little EP in 2014, and little is more evident than how conscientiously the group utilized the past few years to hone and seamlessly sculpt a final product capable of conveying this much ethos. Body Cries is a display of transcendent and poignant musical kinship, that which could give you space on the train at rush hour, and the darker side of the emotional spectrum through both sonic lows and highs. “Framed,” the second single off Body Cries, is exemplary of Boompa’s completely immersive, tangible sound that still retains complexity and the ever-present proof of really great musicianship. “Marrow,” another personal favorite and home to the namesake lyric of the album, steeps in reflective lyrics that crest and break with agonizing beauty.
What Boompa is offering on Body Cries is more than moody songs with cool instrumentation: this is music that warrants both introspection and outrospection. Like I said, divine providence led me here; I was privileged enough to be present to experience it live, where I found myself alternating between engrossment and serenity, closed eyes. If you’re as ready as I am to feel the noise again, these busy boys have a couple more shows coming up before they take a well-deserved nap; check the internet or ask a basement dweller. Take it from someone who was there and allow yourself the gift of feeling the feelings. Close your eyes, or perhaps better yet, keep them wide open.
Enjoy and grab your own copy of Body Cries here.
