Atta Boy at Smith's Olde Bar

From the venue:

Resurfacing like cicadas, L.A.-born Atta Boy has never been in a hurry. Instead, responding to some strange seasonal instinct when it comes to recording, their unique, comforting, and yet aching blend of pop-Americana seems to arrive in waves, well-formed, yet hungry and soul-searching. Navigating the emotional peaks and valleys of American adolescence, this close-knit crew shaped those experiences into a considerably mature debut, 2012’s Out of Sorts, to be released before they were old enough to order a drink. And then they disappeared. “It was almost like we were some urban legend,” muses keyboardist Dashel Thompson, ``the album existed, and we existed, but Atta Boy was hibernating.” Back-end barn-burner, BOYS, captures this catch-me-up energy. Holding court ahead of the record, Brolin brought out a notebook and asked each bandmate for five things that make them happy. “I wanted to check-in with the boys, and bring their experiences together into the album,” she explains. It’s in this spirit of entropy and negentropy that Atta Boy have once again found themselves coalescing around a shared, collective pang that drives their collaboration and their joyful celebration of all things living, dying, dissolving, and reforming– like a perennial posy pushing through the underbrush to bloom under the first shouts of springtime sunshine, beautiful and golden. Again. And again