That Brunette

Madeline Mondrala of That Brunette is a Brooklyn based queer experimental pop songwriter and performer. Having written her first song at age eight, she began performing her creations for her classmates on the schoolyard. Originally from Los Angeles, Mondrala attended the Conservatory of Music at Purchase College in New York. Her first EP “Cloud” (2013) was acclaimed by taste making blogs such as The Line of Best Fit for “blending classically nuanced pop styles to hypnotic perfection”. In 2014 Madeline was sought out by BMG Chrysalis and signed as a writer/artist. During this time, she worked with producers such as Dem Jointz (Brandy, Rihanna), Larzz Principato (Dua Lipa, Halsey) and Ryan Marrone (Nicki Minaj) to name a few. Her sophomore EP “Madelin” (2017) garnered attention for its feminist anthem “Good List”, appearing in a myriad of music publications including Ladygunn and Popdust.

Soon after, Madeline set off to pursue her music independently. During this time she began to delve into the world of queer Brooklyn nightlife. She frequented iconic bars like Metropolitan and the Rosemont and began to build friendships with other the artists she met there. Her subsequent music video for her single “High School Boys” premiered on Billboard and featured prominent drag performers from the Brooklyn scene. The song and video were embraced by the local queer community, and Madeline was invited to perform at Bushwig, Brooklyn’s iconic annual drag festival. Madeline’s 7-track album “Then Her Head Fell Off” was released in 2019 completely independently. It was met with praise in the indie scene. Gabriel Akins of Substream Magazine aptly wrote “Madeline does whatever she wants to and nails all of it.”

In 2021 That Brunette is set to release her next collection of songs entitled “dark/cute”. It is a study in duality; A coming of age set to the backdrop of underground Brooklyn nightlife. 

Dark/Cute

forth coming EP

Dark/cute is the equally accidental and inevitable diary of my life as a twenty something living in Brooklyn. I wrote it on drunken late night subway rides home, in crowded bars with speakers blaring, in cozy apartments in the fall, on full moons, new moons, Capricorn moons, and in front of my piano with my cat sleeping peacefully beside me. It chronicles the evolution of my disillusionment, and how I learned to see the divinity in my generation’s collective pain through the kaleidoscopic lens of underground queer clubs and bars. It exists in a world where nightlife is therapy, reinvention of self is religion, and friendship is everything. It’s a time capsule I’ll refer to when I’m older and need to be reminded of what it was like to become myself in the haphazard years that led up to the new roaring twenties. They were dark times, that’s for sure. But damn were they cute.