Boogie Man by Brooklyn People: A Funky Time Machine Straight to 1975
Alright, let’s get into it. Boogie Man by Brooklyn People is one of those albums that feels like a secret handshake from the '70s funk scene. Released in 1975 under Cheri Records and Mediasound, this gem straddles the line between raw soul vibes and disco fever dreams. If you’re looking for something smooth but with enough edge to make your feet move without permission—this is it.
First off, kudos to the crew behind this project. You’ve got producers Bob Frazier, Jimi Smith, and Warren Daniels keeping things tight, while Thelma Daniels penned these grooves with serious swagger. And hey, how can we forget Tom Moulton? His remix magic on tracks like “Boogie Man (Part 2) (Disco Mix)” gives this record its staying power. It’s not just music; it’s an experience.
Now, let me tell ya about two tracks that stuck in my brain like gum on a hot sidewalk.
Track 1: “Boogie Man (Part 2)”
This version hits different. Like… imagine walking into a dimly lit club where everyone already knows the steps to some unspoken dance ritual. The bassline slinks around like it owns the place, and the horns punch through with all the subtlety of a glitter cannon at Studio 54. What makes this track unforgettable isn’t just the rhythm—it’s the vibe. There’s a moment near the middle when everything drops out except for the vocals, and suddenly you’re reminded why people fell in love with funk in the first place. Pure swagger. No frills. Just straight-up coolness.
Track 2: “Boogie Man (Part 2) (Disco Mix)”
Okay, so if Part 2 was the laid-back cousin chilling at the bar, this remix is the life-of-the-party type who insists on doing the Electric Slide even if they’re the only one dancing. Moulton stretches out the groove here, letting each instrument breathe before slamming you back into the pocket. The drumbeat alone could cure insomnia—or keep you up till sunrise, depending on your mood. This mix screams “dance floor filler,” and honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
---
Here’s the thing about Boogie Man: it’s not trying too hard. That’s what makes it special. In a world full of overproduced nonsense, this album reminds us that sometimes all you need is a killer beat and a little attitude. It’s imperfect in the best possible ways—like finding a scratch on your favorite vinyl and realizing it adds character instead of ruining it.
And here’s the kicker—I listened to this album while folding laundry last week, and suddenly I wasn’t folding anymore. I was spinning around my living room like John Travolta auditioning for Saturday Night Fever. True story. So yeah, maybe don’t play this one during chores unless you’re ready to turn your house into a makeshift disco. Trust me, your socks will thank you later.
