Mitski - Laurel Hell Review
Cult indie singer-songwriter Mitski has resurfaced from her three-year hiatus with the epic album Laurel Hell.
Cult indie singer-songwriter Mitski has resurfaced from her three-year hiatus with the epic album Laurel Hell. Her break from the music industry was announced back in 2019, much to her fans’ dismay, but Mitski’s insular era has made way for one of her most exciting projects yet. Laurel Hell is out now and is an exhilarating listening experience, invoking raw emotion through vivid storytelling and visceral production.
No stranger to the malevolence of love, Mitski dances with the gothic throughout Laurel Hell. ‘Valentine, Texas’ provides a somber introduction to the dark themes of the record, with Mitski’s unmistakably haunting vocals pondering “who will I be tonight?” over powerful, emotive piano. Moving away from the guitar-heavy production of Mitski’s earlier work, piano provides the bedrock for most of the tracks on this album, signifying a descent into a softer, more vulnerable mindset.
Mitski recalls her struggles with the pressure of the music industry on ‘Working for the Knife’, the album’s first single. Presumably penned around the same time that Mitski took hiatus from her job, this track details the agony of creating things for creation’s sake, of wanting to be inspired but having to work for the man, or the knife, instead. In its own right, this is an anti-work anthem, but it’s also a sad acceptance of the truth. That, like Mitski, we're all working, living and ultimately dying by someone else’s rules.
Next up on ‘Stay Soft’, we begin to see Mitski’s foray into synth-pop which she first experimented with on the popular 2018 track ‘Nobody’. We’re seeing the resurgence of synth-pop across the board at the moment, so it’s not surprising that Mitski is feeling inspired by this. ‘Stay Soft’ asks its subject, or Mitski herself depending on how you look at it, to “open up your heart like the gates of hell”, recognising the vulnerability in herself and her counterparts.
Breaking down walls becomes a theme as we continue to ‘Everyone’. Punctuated by punchy synth to create an air of anxiety until a preppy piano melody takes the track’s leave, Mitski pleads “come in, whatever you are” to an unknown and seemingly supernatural being. If I were asked to sum up this album in two words I’d go for ‘magical realism’, and I think this song keeps this true.
‘Heat Lightning’ brings more of this; a love story for an insomniac, this atmospheric track likens a storm brewing to emotions that wash over you. An ode to the “sleeping eyelid of the sky”, ‘Heat Lightning’ delivers a sonic arrangement reliant on a soaring build-up which culminates in dancing piano work - it’s almost like we’re experiencing this emotional storm ourselves, and then letting the rain drown it out.
Now, we’re treated to more of that synth goodness on ‘The Only Heartbreaker’ where Mitski is the “bad guy in the play” reflecting on her relationship pitfalls. This track is upbeat, laden with synth (of course) and keys (double of course), with an unforgettable bridge. We’re quickly reminded that Laurel Hell is a tale of polarities - if ‘The Only Heartbreaker’ is about losing out on love, then ‘Love Me More’ is about incessantly craving more. Again, a catchy rhythm bolstered by piano leads the way, but lyrically Mitski unleashes a wanton desire to give in to the “itch [she is] not supposed to scratch”.
Mitski takes her foot off the gas on ‘There’s Nothing Left Here For You’, where spooky synth coupled with a cinematic chorus takes us to the precipice of something great, and then back down again. This mirrors the nature of the song, where Mitski is coming to terms with the loss of her lover and sitting with the grief. ‘Should’ve Been Me’ is the opposite of this then, recounting the “strange serenity” of a love lost where Mitski wasn’t fulfilling the needs of her partner. Finally, ‘I Guess’ acts as both an apology and a thank you.
Perhaps the saddest song of the record is the last track ‘That’s Our Lamp’. Before I had even listened to this, I felt a pang in my chest when I read the title. The lamp is a mundane object, but it’s a source of energy and life and light. We can compare our relationships to a lamp, as it glows or as it burns out. That’s exactly what Mitski does here - she contemplates if her partner still loves her like they used to now that they’re ending and she’s “standing in the dark”', literally and figuratively. A chattering, cacophonous outro marks the end of both the album and Mitski’s reflective healing journey.
I had high hopes for this record, and I wasn’t left unsatisfied. Long gone are Mitski’s days of indie anonymity - she’s a big name with potential beyond recognition, and Laurel Hell cements this.