Vibrant ‘80s synth and dark, vulnerable lyrics about despair and heartbreak beautifully fit Mitski’s mesmerizing and aptly named sixth studio album “Laurel Hell.”
The album’s title is borrowed from an Appalachian term for disorienting laurel thickets that supposedly trap those who get lost in their twisted branches decorated with colorful umbrella-shaped flowers, Mitski said in a Nov. 9, 2021 interview on Apple Music radio program, The Zane Lowe show.
Almost four years after the 2018 release of her critically-acclaimed album “Be the Cowboy,” Mitski’s latest album encapsulates loss and disconnect from one’s self and others.
Mitski, a 31-year-old Japanese-American singer-songwriter, released her first album in 2012 while she studied at State University of New York Purchase, according to a July 1, 2019 New Yorker article.
The artist grew up with a distorted sense of self as she attended a new school almost yearly because her family traveled often and she constantly assumed a different role at each new institution, according to the same article.
She invites listeners to step “carefully into the dark” of her album with the first track, “Valentine, Texas,” which has an entrancing and heavy synth-country vibe as she sings about revealing a hidden side of herself to her sweetheart.
Drums and an energetic beat replace the once dark and heavy synth as it suddenly grows weightless, literally making the listener feel as if they’re ascending to a higher plane of existence “where clouds look like mountains” and dancing ghosts kick up sand clouds.
After the first track fades to silence, Mitski sings of a lost passion in track two, presumably for her love of creating music in “Working for the Knife.”
Mitski stepped away from the music scene in 2019 to recuperate and find her connection to her art again after almost losing herself and style from music industry and listener pressure, she said in a Wednesday BBC article.
“I used to think I would tell stories,” Mitski sings, “But nobody cared for the stories I had about / No good guys.”
The gut-wrenching heartbreak of loathing what she once loved is embodied by dark instrumentation, giving a feeling of dread. The dirge is cut by brief, hopeful piano notes leading to electrical guitar riffs signaling an eventual emotional resolution.
Working for the Knife has almost 20 million Spotify plays, the most of the eleven tracks on “Laurel Hell.”
While not all listeners understand the music industry pressure Mitski sang about, the frightful idea of losing drive for something that once brought you life is put into cathartic and eloquent verse.
The third track, “Stay Soft,” breaks the heavy, trance-like instrumentation from “Working for the Knife,” with a distinct, energetic beat and piano riff as Mitski sings of the painful physical and emotional vulnerability that comes with being in a romantic relationship.
Mitski’s smooth voice sounds defeated at points as disjointed energetic synth contrasts powerfully emotional lyrics that leave the listener tearfully head-bobbing as she sings, “You stay soft, get beaten / Only natural to harden up / You stay soft, get eaten / Only natural to harden up.”
“Everyone” builds upon this sensitive vulnerability, showing the risk of giving and doing too much despite others’ advice and losing more than anticipated.
Mitski captures insomnia sufferers’ hopelessness after laying in bed and staring at a popcorn ceiling for hours in “Heat Lightning.”
Pulsing synth and delicate piano notes play as Mitski’s voice betrays a defeated resignation that’s viscerally relatable and soul-shattering to anyone who has experienced unrequited love.
I’ve had the unfortunate experience of falling for a friend. While I knew he was very much unavailable, my mind couldn’t convince my heart to stop feeling. I knew deep inside that my love for him wouldn’t be reciprocated, but I couldn’t deny my feelings.
“There's nothing I can do / Not much I can change / I give it up to you, I surrender,” encapsulated my peaceful submission that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop loving him and my emotions couldn’t influence him to reciprocate it.
‘80s synth-pop opens Laurel Hell’s sixth track “The Only Heartbreaker.” The upbeat rhythm juxtaposes lyrics about being the problem, or “the only heartbreaker” in a romantic relationship that’s not working.
The same ‘80s energy continues with “Love Me More,” as Mitski’s dubious lyrics of needing “something more,” something to help her continue to live, is similar to the feeling of needing love to help break the monotony of day-to-day life.
Track nine’s cheerful beat doesn’t make the listener oblivious to the sadness in “Should’ve Been Me,” as Mitski sings about regret after not being enough for someone in a relationship.
While tracks eight and 10, “There’s Nothing Left Here for You” and “I Guess” weren’t my favorite songs of the album, they weren’t bad.
The lyrics are amazing, but the songs are more subdued and not that interesting stylistically.
“There’s Nothing Left Here for You” continues with the album’s lyrical depth as a lover moves on and Mitski describes the consequential heartbreak.
The synth is haunting as it gains energy, almost as if one is thinking about what was once beautiful and then snaps back to a slower, sadder present.
“I Guess” builds upon this sadness and disconnection as Mitski encapsulates the uneasy feeling of being unacquainted with oneself after a relationship’s end in her lyrics, “It's been you and me since before I was me / Without you, I don't yet know quite how to live.”
Mitski ends “Laurel Hell” with a return of funky synth-induced head-bobbing beats as she sings of a relationship on the brink of disaster. The listener is torn apart by the lyrics and put together again by groovy synth waves in “That’s Our Lamp.”
“Laurel Hell” doesn’t leave the listener feeling completely happy or completely heartbroken –– similar to life, the album is complex and intricate. It’s raw, bittersweet and encompasses the beauty and wickedness of the human experience.
