<body><div><figure><img src="https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?type=thumbnail_580x000&amp;url=0rswi7_0tzDH2v200" alt="https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?url=0rswi7_0tzDH2v200" width="800" height="600" ><figcaption>Rose Hotel (Photo by Logan White)</figcaption></figure><h2>Breathers — ‘Some Kind of Fool’</h2><p>The benchmark for a quintessentially summer anthem is a simple image: Its punctuated groove should blast just as effortlessly from the deck of a pontoon boat as it should from the speakers of your favorite dive bar with $5 pitchers. </p><p>Breathers’ “Some Kind of Fool,” the synth-pop trio’s first release in three (long, tedious, desirous) years, is a solid contender for said laurels. Combining yacht-rock pop hooks with impossibly danceable funk, “Some Kind of Fool” is a day-to-night block party landing somewhere between Steely Dan and Prince. Such comparisons notwithstanding, nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake is no end goal here. With an ’80s-inspired palette that feels as transportive as it does fresh, “Some Kind of Fool” will take your sunburned legs straight to the cracked laminate cushions of your favorite booth. Another round?</p><p>Watch the video for “Some Kind of Fool” (directed by Sam Wagstaff) below. </p><div style="position:relative;width:100%; height:0; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7mL_yXpFggc?feature=oembed&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https://www.artsatl.org" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" style="width:100%; height:100%;top:0; left:0; position:absolute"></iframe></div><p><b>::</b></p><h2>Rose Hotel — ‘Fruit Tree’</h2><p>Rose Hotel’s label debut and sophomore record, <i>A Pawn Surrender,</i> arrived earlier this month via Strolling Bones Records. <i>A Pawn Surrender</i> quilts a patchwork tapestry of region-crossing, decade-spanning influences, and frontwoman Jordan Reynolds is the artist tenaciously stitching those diverse panels together. </p><p>Such tenacity is never clearer than on the third and final single, “Fruit Tree.” Here, Reynolds offers a trippy temptation of slick bass and synthesized flute that sees the dreamy shoegaze of her debut ripening into the peach skin fuzz of psychedelia: <i>“Seems like I’m a beauty, until you look a little longer,”</i> she sings, her voice pacing like that of a beckoning lotus-eater. <i>“Seems like I’m a fruit tree, and the aroma’s getting stronger,”</i> she warns, her spell crescendoing into a dissonant crash of poppy seeds and guitar distortion à la Strawberry Alarm Clock. </p><p>Its dizzying swells are fittingly abetted by umbral vignettes of voyeurism and fruit-laden metaphor in the track’s Lynchian-inspired short film (directed by Hannah Welever), which you can watch below.</p><div style="position:relative;width:100%; height:0; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7Yx4l6AwGzM?feature=oembed&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https://www.artsatl.org" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" style="width:100%; height:100%;top:0; left:0; position:absolute"></iframe></div><p><b>::</b></p><h2>Ma Rainey — <b>‘</b></h2><h2>Prove It On Me Blues’</h2><p>In 1925, Chicago police raided a party-turned-all-women-orgy hosted by Columbus, Georgia-born blues singer Gertrude “Ma” Rainey. Three years after the arrest, Rainey would go on to record “Prove It On Me Blues,” seemingly addressing the rumors of her perceived sexuality with a shameless cheekiness that only the true Mother of the Blues could muster: “<i>Went out last night with a crowd of my friends / They must’ve been women, ‘cause I don’t like no men</i>.”</p><p>Rainey never publicly identified as bisexual; crucially, she never publicly identified as <i>not</i> bisexual. Historical scholars are quick to note this distinction, and yet it is also essential to note that within queer history, and moreover within Black queer history of the Harlem Renaissance, these distinctions are made forthrightly in their own way, enabling expression while preserving safety — such is the art of flagging. Rainey’s legacy proudly embraces these signals, peppering her lyricism with homoerotic themes and feminist quips and performances with costuming that spanned both hyperfeminine sequins and androgynous drag. “<i>It’s true I wear a collar and tie,</i>” she goes on to sing. “<i>Wear my clothes just like a fan, talk to the gals just like any old man.</i>”</p><p>Rainey’s deeply energetic blend of vaudeville and Southern blues inspired singers such as Big Mama Thornton and Janis Joplin, but her commitment to challenging traditional notions of patriarchy and Black sexuality have proven time and again that the Mother of Blues was a pioneer in more ways than one. </p><div style="position:relative;width:100%; height:0; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yRyaUcVfhak?feature=oembed&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https://www.artsatl.org" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" style="width:100%; height:100%;top:0; left:0; position:absolute"></iframe></div><p><b>::</b></p><p><i>Lindsay Thomaston</i> <i>is a photographer and culture writer with a background in media and politics. Her work has appeared in</i> Paste Magazine, Rolling Stone, i-D, Dazed, Fashionista <i>and</i> Immersive Atlanta<i>, among others.</i></p></div></body>

Mountain View, CA

NewsBreak

Atlanta Soundtrack: Breathers, Rose Hotel and vintage Ma Rainey

The benchmark for a quintessentially summer anthem is a simple image: Its punctuated groove should blast just as effortlessly from the deck of a pontoon boat as it should from the speakers of your favorite dive bar with $5 pitchers. Breathers’ “Some Kind of Fool,” the synth-pop trio’s first release...