Mitski, Dead Oceans, 2022
“Where did Mitski go?” “Is Mitski quitting music?” “Did Mitski retire?” “Is Mitski ever coming back?”
Simply searching the Japanese-American indie artist’s name will still yield many different speculations about her’s personal opinions and emotions, even in the wake of the release of her latest album. While no Google search would truly reveal how Mitski viewed retirement, why she took a break, or if she ever intended to “come back,” there seem to be some answers in Laurel Hell.

A multi-faceted review of fame, heartbreak, and self-realization, Laurel Hell’s rich and full-bodied sound reveals Mitski’s soul to be an open book. Her sixth album explores her increasingly difficult existence as the focus of more than ten million fans, parasocial relationships, and the impact of fame on her personal life.
“Valentine, Texas” whirls up into a soaring crescendo that is just the preliminary peak of Laurel Hell. As the opening track, though, “Valentine, Texas” is an aperitif, only wetting the palate of Mitski fans that have waited eagerly for more since the resounding success of 2018’s Be The Cowboy.
The latter half of “Valentine, Texas” is familiar to an attuned fan’s ear: classical piano inspired flares, dramatic chord progressions, and continuously changing keys. The form of the first track is not new; rather, it emulates the divided bodies of Mitski songs before, such as “Geyser,” “Texas Resnikoff,” and “Carry Me Out.” Some of her most powerful songs, these tracks start quietly and subdued, then suddenly burst into a storm of piano, electric guitar, and Mitski’s vocals that truly bare her soul raw.
Honest and just as raw, “Valentine, Texas” is no less telling. As if speaking directly to her fans, Mitski invites the listener to accompany her on a journey in the opening lyrics: “Let’s step carefully into the dark.” Perhaps Mitski is referring to her own psyche.
The questions posed later in the song, asking who she will be as the night falls, suggests that in the limelight of stardom, Mitski is struggling to maintain her own identity.
Laurel Hell’s second track, “Working for the Knife” seems to continue the narration of this struggle. The first single of Mitski’s fifth studio album, is a power-tool-percussion heavy track with yawning horns and guitar. The beat is slow and laborious, as if Mitski herself has grown tired of the construction of her own music:
“I used to think I’d be done by twenty
Now at twenty-nine, the road ahead appears the same
Though maybe at thirty, I’ll see a way to change
That I’m living for the knife”
Mitski, “Working for the Knife”
Mitski’s commentary on the breadth of her own fame is presumably revealed in this brooding track; she appears critical of capitalism, or perhaps she wants to express that her job, though glamorized by fans, the media, and misconceptions of stardom, is just as draining as any other profession.
“Working for the Knife” suggests that Mitski may have never meant to be making music as a long-time profession, but as it turned into a career and fans amassed, her path through life changed.
These sentiments of change are reflected in the third track “Stay Soft.” The song’s message is somewhat contradictory to its sound. While bold and surprising in lyrical content, it is arguably the most pop-adjacent track, with its bouncy baseline and stereotypical snap as part of the percussion lineup.
However, the chord progression is undoubtedly original to Mitski’s established style. The chorus kicks off with a sudden, unexpected dissonant chord, resembling a piano keyboard smash. Unlike many pop songs, the chorus is full of minor chords, lending an ominous feel to the song, like a warning.
The seem to lyrics allude to Mitski’s career once again:
“You stay soft, get beaten
Only natural to harden up
You stay soft, get eaten
Only natural to harden up”
Mitski, “Stay Soft”
The idea of parasocial relationships, as they relate to an artist and their listeners, is that a fan creates a one-sided relationship into which the fan pours energy, emotion, time, and interest to an artist who is unaware of their existence.
While it is believed that parasocial relationships are not harmful to the fan, it can be overwhelming to the artist to receive such personalized attention. Mitski’s art is incredibly emotional, and she puts so much of herself into her music, making her seem like a very easy person to relate to.
Because so many fans see and relate to such specific feelings found in Mitski songs, their connection to her is much more intense. These fans feel a certain ownership over her music as a result, and view her as an extension of her emotions.
Mitski as a person is lost in such projection, and her ability to make music as an emotional outlet could be gone. Her music has recently been transforming into a popular brand, even a personality embellisher.
“Stay Soft” reads as almost a direct reaction to this phenomenon. Mitski’s transparency in her songwriting makes her accessible to her fans, but as a result, she feels “eaten up” by the public eye. Therefore it makes sense that it is “only natural to harden up,” and she did: her most emotional and personally revealing lyrics in Laurel Hell are far more elusive, broad, and generalized than her previous work.
“Everyone” further explores this theory, exposing the darkness and constant artist consumption of the music industry. Mitski explains that she was cautioned before she entered the industry, warned not to go down that path of life. Now, in the aftermath of her rise in popularity, she once again expresses feelings of turmoil:
And I opened my arms wide to the dark
I said, “Take it all, whatever you want”
I didn’t know that I was young
I didn’t know what it would take
I didn’t know what it would take
Sometimes I think I am free
Until I find I’m back in line again”
Mitski, “Everyone”
Laurel Hell is an exploration of what it feels like to have millions of fans amplify your deepest emotions, and it poses the big question of whether that should even be possible.

The second single off of Laurel Hell, “The Only Heartbreaker” turns the album in a different direction: the familiar subject of heartbreak.
The most energetic of Laurel Hell’s singles, it immediately takes off as an allusion of 80’s pop. Like the swelling score of a cinematic final battle of sorts, Mitski’s heartbreaking and emotionally convoluted lyrics pair beautifully with the powerful and bittersweet chord progression. Its outstanding synth beats as the undeniable heart of the third single, racing towards the ascension of the song’s instrumental bridge.
Via an interview with Apple Music, Mitski revealed that “This is the first song in my entire discography of however many albums I’ve made where I have a co-writer, and it’s because this song was this puzzle that I couldn’t solve.”
Finally reaching out for help definitely goes hand in hand with the rest of the album. “Love Me More,” “There’s Nothing Left for You,” “Should’ve Been Me,” “I Guess,” and “That’s Our Lamp” display a mature array of emotions in the wake of an ended relationship.
While earlier Mitski songs are famous for their raw anger, pain, and a decided resignation to endless sadness, Laurel Hell’s end sounds more like a resolution. Within its final five tracks, Mitski recognizes the pain of her ex-partner, acknowledges their reasons for leaving, apologizes for her shortcomings, thanks them, and finally, lets them go.
Laurel Hell is already turning out to be a huge milestone for Mitski: the album was the No. 1 best-selling album in America for a week in February, and she earned her first No. 1 song on the Billboard Charts with “The Only Heartbreaker.”
In the wake of Laurel Hell’s success, Mitski deserves every accolade and award that comes her way. However, the extremely personal struggles she bared in this record are not to be ignored. Listening to the music of such a talented artist is a privilege, not something to which we are entitled.
