
Toria Rainey possesses the kind of hypnotic magnetism that instantly transfixes. In her latest single, Mosquito, the saturated and indie nostalgia-slicked bassline pulls you right into the atmosphere of the slow-burning sepia-hued soul. Even if she was singing acapella, her voice would leave no void to fill in a production; the honeyed warmth swarms through the groove-driven alt-indie RnB pop synthesis, which carries Rainey’s resolving harmonies and bursts of fiery conviction.
There are echoes of Y2K pop in the vein of Natasha Bedingfield reverberating through the smoky production, which uses moody nuances to balance the style with substance. Using mosquitoes as the perfect parable for how some relationships suck you dry, Rainey turns the average redemption RnB pop single that scathes in the rubble of a relationship into a cathartically empowering revolution, serving as the ultimate reminder that martyrdom has no place in relationships.
The Brooklyn-based artist writes through identity, trauma, desire, blurred boundaries, and self-reinvention without sanding down the sharp edges. As part of her forthcoming EP, Muscle Memories, Mosquito sits inside a wider exploration of autonomy, the body’s memory, and the daily decision to choose yourself after damage has tried to define you. She should be an icon in everyone’s book.
Mosquito is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.
Review by Amelia Vandergast