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The first single from Mitski’s previous album, “Laurel Hell” released in 2022, painted a grim picture of her future in the music industry. In the song “Working for the Knife,” she sang about her belief that she would be finished with music by the age of 20. However, at 29, she realized that her path ahead remained unchanged, but maybe by the time she turned 30, she would find a way to change it. This track was just another example of the Japanese American artist’s complicated relationship with her devoted yet intense fan base. Despite gaining unexpected popularity with some of her songs, Mitski felt like her deep and nuanced reflections were reduced to “sad girl” pop, and she began to feel dehumanized by the extreme elements of her fandom. Despite this, “Laurel Hell” took a risky turn by incorporating sharp synth-pop sounds, almost like a challenge between the artist and her fans to see who could push her into the mainstream first. As it was the final release on her record label, many believed that after the tour, Mitski would disappear from the public eye for good.
At the age of 32, Mitski appeared to have found a way to make a change. This summer, she announced that she had successfully renegotiated her contract and her relationship with her fans. In her own words, “After realizing my passion for making music, I am willing to face both the difficulties and joys that come with it – just like any job, relationship, or meaningful aspect of life.” This admission led to a surprise release of her new album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, which was a departure from her previous work. Instead of the edgy guitar pop that gained her recognition, The Land… was a deeply personal and introspective album that evoked the feeling of a dark night. It blended the haunting sound of Yo La Tengo’s And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out with the country music influences of Nashville, where Mitski currently resides. The album was like Mitski’s own version of the blues, exploring her delicate balancing act between isolation and connection through eerie and hymn-like stories featuring angels, kings, gods, bugs, dogs, and birds – all illuminated by a benevolent moon.
Mitski’s work is never straightforward. On the album “The Land…”, loss is never experienced without some form of comfort, and comfort is never present without some form of loss. The first track, “Bug Like an Angel,” sung by a self-proclaimed “drinker” protagonist, speaks to the familiar feeling of finding solace in a drink. The song’s acoustic melody is as intoxicating as the first sip, and a choir joins in to harmonize on the word “family.” In “Heaven,” a song about cherishing intimacy, the protagonist drinks from a coffee cup left behind by a lover who may have left for good. This is followed by the tonal shift of “I Don’t Like My Mind,” a comical yet knowing reflection on the struggles of being trapped with one’s own thoughts. “Star” compares the fleeting nature of new love to a distant star, while “I’m Your Man” reflects on the inevitability of fate and the deep loneliness that can come with it. The surprise hit “My Love Mine All Mine” offers a glimmer of hope as Mitski sings of leaving her love behind as a guiding light for those left on earth. The album closes with “I Love Me After You,” presenting solitude as a form of triumph, but the final stormy notes suggest a sense of isolation and desolation in one’s own kingdom.
Mitski’s writing is captivating in its simplicity and mystery – featuring a protector for a blind dog, deals made with nightjars, and “judgment by the hounds”. Her melodies weave hypnotically through the refined arrangements, occasionally blooming into devotional refrains that amplify the album’s already strong allure. The album’s self-assured pace and themes, centered around Mitski’s “witness-less me”, most closely resemble Joni Mitchell’s Hejira – a reflective exploration of the joys and pains of connection, both romantic and public, made at the same age of 32. This is no small comparison. Like Hejira, The Land… feels like a talisman that inspires introspection and vulnerability, quietly revealing its insights in its own time.
Source: theguardian.com
