SOMBR IS THE RISING STAR OF A GENERATION: HIS ALBUM’S HERE TO PROVE IT
Sombr, I Barely Know Her. Image credit - Bryce Glenn, Warner Records
‘Is it such a crime to care so much for another?’
Sombr’s debut album, I Barely Know Her, is a deluge of passion, talent and vulnerability. Flicking from confident to crumpled as quick as fleeting eye contact, it’s the deep sea of a young man treading through a disconnected world.
Risen from the ranks of TikTok to sweaty gigs packed with adoring teenage fans, Sombr’s current fanbase are largely of his age group. But when the music is this good, it won’t be long before his popularity spreads through broader demographics. Released on 22nd August, read our initial thoughts on each album track.
At its most reductive, I Barely Know Her sounds like falling in and out of young love in the 21st century. At its most revealing, it sounds like the best artist of the next generation knocking on the door.
“At its most reductive, ‘I Barely Know Her’ sounds like falling in and out of young love in the 21st century. At its most revealing, it sounds like the best artist of the next generation knocking on the door.”
Shane Boone, aka. Sombr. Image credit: Bryce Glenn, Warner Records
Crushing
The album opens with that distinct brand of teenage bravado. Picture yourself at a dark 80s house party, catching neon-interrupted glimpses across the room of the one person you came to see. Fast-forward, and those first glitter disco ball memories are stained with reality. Sombr reflects a kind of corrupted nostalgia brilliantly across the album, with the edge and grit of his Manhattan upbringing coming through in the prevalent bass and electric guitar, as well as distorted vocals from the very first track.
12 to 12
It’s hard not to tap something to this beat. Sombr’s sleek visuals and sharply tailored silhouette are mirrored in his crisp pronunciation, a defined contrast from the omnipresent style of cursive singing. Sombr knows how to work piano into a pop rock song, perhaps owing to his classical music education at LaGuardia (graduates include Timothée Chalamet and Nicki Minaj). The bridge doesn’t build as dramatically as the song may have you wishing for, but you’ll still be heading for the nearest chequered dancefloor, just like Addison Rae in the single’s music video.
I Wish I Knew How To Quit You
Next, a gear shift to a heavy-handed confession that sounds like it was recorded in an empty arena, perhaps to echo the void of that one person you just can’t get over. Sombr’s aching is palpable, and there’s a desperation that almost every adolescent can relate to. ‘You’re the echo in my veins / ‘You were never mine but I was always yours’. Driven by forceful drums reminiscent of Tears For Fears, this song encapsulates the borderline insanity of someone becoming so entangled in your psyche you start resenting them for it.
Sombr. Image credit: Bryce Glenn, Warner Records
Back To Friends
The album’s first single was what introduced me to Sombr — so compelled by the rolling beat and anguished vocal, I stopped walking and had a spiralling flashback on the spot. Within a few words, Boose can paint a highly specific moment in a changing dynamic. Already developing a signature sound, the blending of distorted electric guitar with piano carries the song once again. Other singles may have performed better on streaming platforms, but to me, this is the album’s equivalent of a head-turner.
Canal Street
The only ballad on I Barely Know Her, Canal Street revisits Sombr’s geographic and musical roots, building with pace and purpose. It may not have the immediate hook present across the rest of the tracklist, but plays a definitive mid-point role, perhaps where the chaos of emotion briefly finds grounding. The self-doubt, the struggle to make sense of the story, and the search for closure all bleed into one emotional bridge. By far the instrumental stand-out, this would sound great with a full orchestra at The Royal Albert Hall.
‘I Barely Know Her’ album cover. Image credit: Bryce Glenn, Warner Records
Dime
‘You’re living in the city, and I’m living in the crevices of your heart’ kicks off Dime. We’ve all watched someone we’re crushing on move away or start something up with someone else, and wondered if they’ll ever spare a thought for us again. This song captures the desperation of watching your dignity sail off into the distance with them. It’s another iteration of that all-encompassing yearning that’s so pertinent throughout I Barely Know Her, and the sense of having already lost ‘her’, but not being ready to give up just yet.
Undressed
Armed with a groovy bassline and dangerously infectious melody, the album’s second single depicts the reluctance of moving on, with a chorus destined to be belted by a room full of heartbroken souls. You’d be forgiven for thinking ‘Undressed’ wasn’t written by a 19 year old, featuring the lyrics Sombr said he’s most proud of: ‘I don’t want the children of another man to have the eyes of the girl I won’t forget’. Yet, Shane Boose retains total writing credit for Undressed, as with every other song on this 10-track debut.
Come Closer
Another first-listen highlight, Sombr compares himself to a pawn and a dog with a bone on Come Closer. It might not be award-winning lyricism, but the message is clear. Torn between desire and pride, he attempts to draw the line with his muse: ‘I can’t take loving you half-way’. Boose lays his soul bare with brutal honesty that does his street cred no favours, all while delivering a guitar-led melody that’s just too easy to dance to.
We Never Dated
This song sounds like purple lipstick and cigarette smoke in a dimly lit whisky bar. It’s sultry, angular, and would sound just as good sung by a choir in a tall, cavernous church as in a New York studio. Thick, rich earfuls of stunning harmonies showcase Sombr’s impressive vocal range in the album’s third single, sounding like it was made for an indie coming-of-age film soundtrack.
Under The Mat
The album’s closing statement sounds like wedding bells in reverse. It’s the cinematic unravelling of a first love, the police pulling up at the house party, and the slow motion car crash at the end of a film. Taking a birdseye view, Sombr reflects on the events of I Barely Know Her with subtle devastation: ‘I watched her start to hate me’. The track ends with a simple music box piano and Boose’s spoken voice, wrapping up the album with audible pride.
Sombr’s Debut Album: A Surrender To Passion
‘I Barely Know Her’ boasts maximalist production, rich in emotion and imagery, missing among many of Sombr’s male music peers. To admit to unrequited love, the fear of being forgotten, and the crushing weight of desire takes courage, but to do it so loudly and powerfully at such a young age is invigorating.
“To admit to unrequited love, the fear of being forgotten, and the crushing weight of desire takes courage, but to do it so loudly and powerfully at such a young age is invigorating.”
His current audience may not know much of The Beach Boys, but the parallels are clear, whether intentional or not. There are glimmers of songwriting to match his musical talents, with ample room to grow. More importantly, Sombr’s sound encompasses the desire for lost connection, and his ability to translate these feelings through his songs and live shows position him as a rising star of his generation.
‘I Barely Know Her’ is out on all major music platforms now.