Los Angeles-based R&B singer Ogi Ifediora got her start posting cover songs on Instagram as a senior at Northwestern University. After PJ Morton shared her take on his song “Alright,” producer No I.D. got in touch; a record deal and tour opening for Snoh Aalegra soon followed. On her debut EP, Monologues, Ogi wields her voice with precision and joy. Though there’s room to hone her original songwriting, the project is an impressive showcase of her technical skill and vocal prowess.
Ogi’s musical background—she sang with an a capella group in college—is apparent in her enveloping harmonies and precise vocal control. The jazzy arrangements and layered vocals are dense and complex, but her singing feels effortless. Listening to Ogi’s voice wind from a gauzy falsetto to her golden deeper register on “Let Me Go,” you feel completely immersed, as if watching a wave of fog roll in. EP highlight “Bitter” boosts the energy, with syncopated vocals skipping over snappy drums and a bubbling horn line. The arrangement conveys prickly frustration at feeling inadequate in a relationship, but Ogi’s confident delivery implies that she’s still very much in control.
She has described Monologues as her “audition into the industry,” a collection of six songs selected to showcase her range. The project feels like a sample pack, covering a variety of emotional states in broad strokes. On “Let Me Go,” Ogi cooly informs a lover that they deserve someone who cares more about them. She grapples with other people’s resentment on “Envy,” flexes on “I Got It,” and devotes a ballad to a struggling loved one on “IKYK.” Each new direction could be a viable concept for a longer project, but since it never focuses on any one mood or theme, the EP feels a bit scattered.
In part, this is because the lyrics on Monologues can be vague, gesturing at feelings and experiences with less nuance than Ogi brings to her singing. “Was the problem always me?/Or the fact you can’t believe/I have what I have and that you don’t,” she sings on “Envy,” never quite moving beyond a generic description of envy itself. At other times, the metaphors can border on corny. “All these blessings falling in my lap like I’m a grandpa/All this money I go swimming in it like a tadpole,” she sings on “I Got It,” a moment of would-be bravado that comes off stilted.
But on the effervescent “Bitter,” storytelling comes second to the restive mood Ogi establishes. “I hate that I’m not what you want,” she repeats, her voice full of frustration. But as she stacks up harmonies and maneuvers around them with the ease of water slipping through your fingers, it’s also clear she’s taking pleasure in every note she sings. Even as she parses out angst, envy, and disdain, her charisma makes these songs shine.
