by Kyla Sanchez ‘22

Mitski is a true enigma to the music world. A Japanese-American indie singer and songwriter praised by critics as one of the best poets of the 21st century and by fans as an alternative goddess-like ‘mom,’ Mitski rose to new popularity with her previous album Be The Cowboy (2018). The album incorporated contemporary pop-disco along with her alternative rock sound, exciting new and old fans alike with tracks like “Nobody” and “Washing-Machine Heart” that increased in popularity recently due to TikTok. She came out of her indefinite leave from music in 2021 with an assortment of singles with an even more divergent 80s pop sound to mixed reception. Is Laurel Hell a watered-down version of Mitski’s original raw previous projects, or is it a fresh direction for the indie queen?

The opener “Valentine, Texas” invites listeners to witness a side of her that her ‘sweetheart’s never met’ over ever-glowing synths and bold, tinkling electronic piano riffs, a strong start that informs the audience of Mitski’s state of mind. As she says, she is stepping ‘carefully into the dark,’ back into her melancholic themes but this time to her past mistakes, the ‘dancing ghosts,’ hoping that by looking at them from a different angle they and her pain will ‘finally float off of [her].’ This opener stands in contrast to her other album openers that found Mitski in a place of dangerous, sometimes unhealthy devotion; “Valentine, Texas” emphasizes that Mitski is maturing and reflecting on this record in a way she never has before.

The next few tracks continue the energy and themes of the opener. “Working for the Knife” has Mitski consider her drive and place in life over cleverly appropriate metallic, monotonous claps and clangs. “Stay Soft” explores how hurt people use sex to make sense of their pain, sung over a cheery, grooving production that keeps what could have been a dreary track dynamic. “Everyone” slows the album down a bit as Mitski talks of the deep vulnerability of youth and the decisions she made in them that linger with her today. The emotive lyrics and her pained voice float over haunting synthesizers that enhance her fear and emptiness beautifully. 

The second half of the album stands as the lesser half, with much of the production blending into each other despite the stellar lyrics. Although singles “The Only Heartbreaker” and “Love Me More” are tight 80s throwback songs, next to each other they sound derivative. “There’s Nothing Left Here for You” is as the title implies about how Mitski has nothing left for a lover with apt empty sounding synth waves, but at this point, they have been similarly used already, so the production ends up sounding stale (as do the following few songs despite their strong lyrical ideas). However, the closer “That’s Our Lamp” breaks the stale production streak with bloopy piano chords and a jolting tempo that enhance lyrics describing Mitski’s uncertainty after a lover’s fight. The unsettling final line, “that’s where you loved me,” echoes into sound layers, leaving the audience in the dark of her decision and wanting more in a way Mitski only knows how to evoke.

While some production ideas feel generic in a music scene full of 80s synth-filled throwbacks, decreasing the impact of the overall album, Mitski’s Laurel Hell delivers on more fantastic, striking lyricism and intimately expressive vocals as Mitski blossoms in new shapes.

Grade: B-